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jolienjoyswriting · 2 years ago

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The Dummkopf from Distant Lands (ft. Kristhal Jonsdottir), Ch. II

Chapter 2 of 3 for "The Dummkopf from Distant Lands," a fan fiction story. Co-written by AI Dungeon (Griffin 2.0)

The Following is 100% Non-Canon to the Source Material!! While the written prose does try to keep things in line with established lore, some characters within may act slightly out-of-character at times. Additionally, it is a completely self-contained work and has no impact on any works past or future outside of its own storyline.

Kristhal leaves, satisfied she's scared her stalker into submitting. Then, one week later…

Word count: 3,260 – Character count: 19,115 Drafted: April 2nd, 2023 Revised: April 2nd, 2023 –

Kristhal Jonsdottir and related characters and concepts created by and © dayax19 Joseph Dominique and related characters and concepts created by and © Jo Li

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Joseph shouted before finally collapsing against the couch. Kristhal's strikes were becoming sharper and sharper with every word he spoke… "Ich habe dich gewarnt…" she huffed, glaring with teary eyes. "You just kept pushing me…" "Yeah." The man laughed, sounding off-kilter. "That's the kind of guy I am…" The woman's face was twisted in anger. She held her sword in both hands, practically radiating with strength. She looked scarier than she ever had… "I'll make sure you never talk about my friends ever again, Joseph…" His eyes closed and he slumped against the couch, sighing with a smile. "Whatever, Kris…" Kristhal shivered in anger… How could that man… that stalker… speak to her like that… speak of her friends… speak as if he knew her… How could he speak so casually…? Did he want to die? Did he simply not care? She clutched the hilt of her blade so tightly that her hands began to ache. She wanted to jam that sword down his throat and shut him up for good… It would be easy. He certainly wouldn't stop her. She was prone and ready. However… when she tried to bring her mind to the task, she could only stare at him. Her anger had faded and she didn't know why. With a twirl, the sword disappeared… and she just turned around, heading back to the door she had kicked open. "W-wait…" When the bleeding man spoke, she stopped. "You just don't know when to shut up, do you?" she snorted. "What do you want…?" The tension was thick in the apartment… Joseph was quiet for a long while. Then, after several moments of simply waiting… he said two words.

"I'm… sorry."

Kristhal narrowed her eyes. She snorted and spat on his carpet. Then, she continued walking away. "I just… wanted to get through to you…" Joseph sighed, clearly in pain. "Show you that… even a complete stranger… could care for someone like… like you…" She turned and looked at the man. She wanted to scream at him. She wanted to break his face. But all she did was glare… "No one asked you to." "That's the point… 'dummkopf…'" Kristhal felt a surge of anger when the man started to laugh. She knew he wasn't laughing at her. She just didn't know why he was laughing… "You're the dummkopf, dummkopf…" she whispered. "I love you, too…" Another surge of emotion shot through the woman, her face showing a little color. She quickly turned back toward the door, not daring to let the man see what he'd done to her.

"Close the door… o-on your way out…"

When Kristhal heard the man speak again, she paused at the doorway. Her hands were in her pockets and her back was turned… "Do you… want me to call someone?" she hesitantly asked. "You're staining that couch dark red with blood." Joseph laughed before it turned into a cough. "Taking pity on your stalker?" "You know what?" She looked over her shoulder. "Just die. It'll do us both a favor." "Love you, too, Kris…" She snapped, spinning around with furious eyes. "Stop saying that!!" she roared. "Hah hah," he teased with a grin. "I made you caaare." With another roar, Kristhal practically flew across his living room, throwing a heavy punch right into his face. As she withdrew her hand, she noticed that the man was completely unconscious and bleeding even harder from his face and his new broken nose. She brought her closed hand up, licking some of his spilled blood off before spitting it out. "Verrückt…" she darkly growled. "Completely mad…" She sighed… then she looked around the room. There was a cell phone on the side table. She grabbed it and dialed a number. When someone answered… "Yeah. Hey, can you send an ambulance over to…" She offered directions to the man's place, explaining that he was hurt and bleeding. When they tried to get her to stay on the line, she hung up, tossing the phone at his head. It didn't break, but he'd probably have a bruise from the impact. "Dummkopf…" With that, she finally left. –

"That person is leaving weird comments again, Kristhal…"

It had been about a week since Kristhal's mysterious trip. She wouldn't say where she'd gone or what she'd done, but none of her friends pressed her, so it worked out. On a random night after, her shorter friend – a dark-skinned girl with glasses named Jessica – was browsing over some of the more recent photos that they'd posted on their shared blog. When she mentioned "weird comments'', Kristhal stopped brushing her hair and walked over to see what was said.

"Hrm… Looks like he's going gaga over our dumb costume play pics…" Kristhal rolled her eyes and snorted. "Dummkopf…" "He makes me very uncomfortable…" Jessica said, adjusting her glasses. "There is no rational reason for him to act so 'friendly' toward you." "Could be worse!" another friend – a freckle-faced, brown-haired guy named Dylan – said as he played a video game. "Remember when he was all 'gaga' over you, Jess?" "Please…" The short girl shivered. "Do not remind me…" "Heh. Any thoughts, Jon?"

The tall, dark-haired man seated near Dylan, going by the name of Jonathan, glanced over. He looked at the trio with his usual, calm demeanor, eyes half-closed and face expressionless. "You're asking Jon for input?" Kristhal laughed. "You'd get better input from the wall!" Jonathan flinched… but only a tiny bit. He quietly returned his focus to the video game he was playing with Dylan, losing interest in what they were talking about.

"How do you handle such… free speech, Kristhal?" Kristhal was sipping some fizzy drink from a glass when Jessica prompted her. "What do you mean?" she asked the glasses girl. "Are you not… troubled… by this strange person and their unsolicited words of affection?" "Should I be?" Kristhal asked, shrugging. "Maybe…" Jessica said, folding her arms. "B-but, I do suppose the Internet is full of strange people like this." "And this one's got a li'l crush on yooou, Krissy!" "Shut up!" Dylan laughed as Kristhal came over and punched him. She was smiling, though. Clearly, she wasn't that upset. "How can a person develop feelings for another without interacting face-to-face?" Jessica asked, staring at the laptop screen on the floor. "It makes no logical sense." "Eh, love is goofy like that," was Dylan's input on the matter. "One day, you could be walkin' along the beach, mindin' your own business, then the next morning? Poof! Darn if you're not in love with a cute girl from Afghanistan!" Jessica jolted, staring at her friend with a mix of surprise and concern. "Y-you can't be serious!" she exclaimed with a start. "Is he ever serious, Jess?" Kristhal said with a smirk. When Dylan smiled a bright, friendly smile, Jessica finally relaxed and smiled with them. She rarely understood them… especially Dylan… but in her experience, friends rarely did understand each other. Dylan once said that's why their group worked so well. They were all "oddballs" who said or did weird stuff!

"So, are we gonna pop in a movie, or…?" was the next thing the freckled fellow said. "Yeah!!" Kristhal walked back over to the couch. "It's not a sleepover without a movie!" "What are we watching?" Jessica asked, closing the laptop. "I dunno!" Dylan replied. "Ask John!" All eyes turned to Johnathan. He glanced back at the trio. Then, after a long while… "Spaceballs: The Movie." He told them the movie he'd brought to watch.

"That old sci-fi comedy movie?" Dylan laughed. "Sounds good! Any objections, Kris?" "Eh, I could use a laugh," she said with a shrug. "I enjoy the special effects of old movies," Jessica added as she brought the closed laptop over to a wall charger. "The CGI of today is simply not as believable as practical effects and frame-by-frame digital enhancements." "Neerrrd!" The short girl blushed and went quiet, ducking her head as Kristhal teased her. When she saw the big grin on her friend's face, though, she started smiling again. "Well… there's only one thing left to do!" Everyone looked at Dylan as he spoke up. "I'll go make some popcorn! Hey, Jonny! Start the movie, would'ja?" Jonathan nodded. Minutes later, the gang was situated and watching the Mel Brooks classic together.

Well after the movie, everyone split off, getting ready to turn in for the night. Kristhal, in the meantime, found a spot on the couch, computer in her lap, looking at their blog and browsing photos of their various outings. When she got back to the present, she stopped to see what kind of comments that "weird guy" had left… and was unsurprised to see that he was complimenting her, in particular. I might have to pay this verrückter idiot another visit… she thought. He obviously didn't get the point the first time around. She paused, reading over his words for a second time… then a third time. He thinks I'm "cute"… Absoluter Schwachkopf… By the fourth time, her face was starting to turn a little pink… He's full of kot, she mentally sighed. I don't look cute… She looked at the picture where the comment sat. She and her friends were cosplaying as students in school uniforms. Somehow, Dylan had convinced her to wear something feminine… and she chose a short-sleeved dress shirt with a black, pleated skirt, a blue striped tie, dark stockings, and brown slip-on shoes. Though she seemed confident in the picture, she had been a little uncomfortable during the whole shooting process.

I do not look cute! she snarled in her head, blushing a little more. I'll murder him! "Kris?" She slammed the lid down on the laptop, sitting up and looking over the back of the couch in a start. Dylan was standing there in his pajamas, giving her a curious look. "Sleepin' on the couch?" he said with a smile. "Or just lookin' at funny cat videos?" She continued to blush a little before she shook her head, clearing the funny feelings. "Mind your own business, dummkopf!" she snapped with a grin. "Maybe I wanna stay up all night watching stuff on YouTube!" "Want some company?" Her smile faded… and her blush came back a little. "Tch. Do what you want, Lan…" she quietly said, looking away.

Dylan beamed, hopping over the couch and plopping down beside his friend. The two spent the next hour watching various things on YouTube. When Kristhal noticed that her companion had fallen asleep on her – quite literally – she just snickered and grinned. He always does this… The lady sighed, setting the computer aside. She scooped Dylan into her arms and carried the sleeping man to his room, placing him on his bed. As he began to snore, she took a moment to appreciate his calm, sleeping face. Somehow, just watching him sleep calmed her mind and made her happy. Sleep well, Dylan… she thought as she left his room.

Before long, the white-haired lady was back in the living room, browsing the web again. As she started to look at a medieval weapon-smithing site, she noticed a notification on another browser tab. When she went to that tab… she narrowed her eyes. That man from before… that "Joseph" person… had sent her a message. "Take a hint, dummkopf!" she texted. "I'm not interested!" "Then why do you keep responding?" he answered with a little smiley face. "Shut up!" she snapped, growing angry. "Don't make me block you!" "You're so cute when you're angry…" Seeing those words on the screen made Kristhal's blood boil. Even after she sliced him up and broke his nose, he still had the nerve to–

"Listen…" The lady narrowed her eyes, snapping out of her fury to see what he was writing. "I'm sorry for being so forward. I just… I guess I relate to you in some ways. I know you're not interested, and I wish you'd give me a chance, but I guess you can't help who you are any more than I can help who I am…" She blinked, calming down. She hadn't expected him to say anything like that. "I just want you to know that I still think you're awesome… and pretty… and really great! I'd love to take you out, sometime, even though I know that's impossible for a lot of reasons… You're just so… cool, Kris! It's hard not to admire you…" She bit her bottom lip nervously. She hated to admit it, but reading those words kind of meant something to her. "I just don't think it's a good idea," she typed back, being oddly polite. "We have too many differences. I'm dangerous. You'll only get hurt again." "I like danger…" he answered, "and I don't mind a little more pain. Plus, now I have all these cool scars I can brag about." She snickered. Again, she hated to admit it… but that was kind of funny. "Besides…" He paused. "I'd rather have scars on my body… than scars on the heart." "You sure are focused on scars, tonight…" she typed back. "Anyway, I'm not worth risking your life for. Just forget about me. Go back to your normal life." She was about to close the lid on her laptop when another message caught her attention. "You're worth it to me, Kristhal… I'd gladly let you cut me to ribbons if it meant we would spend more time together." "I'd rather we didn't." There was a long pause. Apparently, Joseph had been taken aback.

"Why?" he finally asked with a frowning emoji. "Why won't you give me a chance?" "Because I don't like you?" she coldly answered. "I have to go now. Don't message me anymore. Goodbye." "Wait! Kris!" "Don't call me that. And don't comment on my photos anymore," she added. "Just forget about me. You're better off that way." She went to close the lid again… but like before, a message gave her pause. "Fight me!" the text message said. "I… I challenge you to a duel!" Kristhal couldn't believe him. She shook her head and chuckled… "What? Are you challenging me to Daumen Krieg or something?" "A swordfight," he simply answered back. She narrowed her eyes. "There's no way you can beat me in a swordfight. I've been classically trained in the art of fencing. I've honed my skills with my zweihander. What you're suggesting would be suicide, not a proper contest of skill." "So be it." "Dude, I'm not going to help you kill yourself!" she angrily typed, noisily pounding the laptop keys. "Go jump in front of a train or something!" "What? Are you afraid I might beat you?" She growled, gritting her teeth. "That's not going to work on me." "Chicken." "Joseph… Just get lost, okay? I'm not sword-fighting you." "Wuss." "Joseph, gottverdammt!" "Coward." She had to resist every impulse in her body to keep from hurling the laptop across the room in a rage. Joseph's trick had worked. She was too angry to think straight. "OMW" she typed before slamming the laptop shut. –

It was still the middle of the night when Kristhal arrived. She had come straight from her place, not bothering to change out of her homemade cutoff shorts and old tank top. She had her sword in her hands and was ready to give that pushy asshole what he wanted: humiliating death. Joseph stood at the other end of his apartment block's parking lot. He was wearing a pair of jeans and a sweatshirt, as well as some old tennis shoes. He still had scars on his face from a week ago and his nose was still a little crooked and bruised. However… he, too, had a sword in his hands, held forward in a generic stance. "Did you learn how to swordfight from movies or something?" the woman mockingly asked. "That lazy stance leaves you wide open." The man narrowed his eyes. There was a metallic click then a clunk. Kristhal watched in surprise as the one sword became two. She then smirked as he took a defensive pose, holding one upside-down blade over his face while the other rested at his side. "Two swords aren't necessarily better than one," she chuckled. "Come at me, kind." When he didn't move, she decided to make a move, herself. Slowly, she edged forward, staying in a balanced stance with her blade raised. She knew he was waiting for an opening… and she wasn't going to give him one.

"Okay, klugscheißer," she snarled, her eyes narrowing as she drew close. "You want to play the defensive game? I'll give you something to defend against." She kept her blade raised as she ducked low, sweeping her right leg behind his. When he dodged and hopped back, she jumped up and thrust forward! He couldn't dodge it and got a small cut across his side. "I warned you," she said, stepping back and twirling her blade before holding it again. "Come at me." "What?" "Come at me again," he said, taking another defensive stance. "Unless you're scared…?" She smirked. "You're an idiot. I'll make your life miserable." "I'm not scared of you," he replied with a smirk of his own. "I'm not scared of you, either," she said, holding her sword down and still smirking. "Then I'll show you how I really play." "And I'll show you how I fight! En garde!!"

Kristhal gave the man what he wanted and charged, making quick and tactical strikes to keep him off-balance. Her blade nicked him time and time again as he hopped back, letting the woman strike as she might. For some reason, though, he wasn't using his blades to either deflect or attack… All at once, she realized what he was doing. "You're studying me," she said as she pulled back. "Heeey, you caught on," he answered, going back into a defensive pose. "You're smarter than you look." She growled and lunged forward, causing him to dodge back. "And you think studying me will help?" She gave him another few pokes before going for a lunge. To her surprise, Joseph deflected her blade and swung his other sword low. He struck her square in the right leg. "Nice one…" she growled, not letting her new injury stop her from standing. "It's only a matter of time," he told her with a smirk, "before that leg gets tired and–" She lunged forward, her sword swinging high. As she did, he stepped in and struck her in the right leg again, opening the wound wider. "That's how I'm gonna beat you," he said as she stumbled by. "You won't beat me!" she shouted, turning around and taking a wild swing at him. Joseph rolled away and slashed her in the stomach. She cried out in pain and fell to one knee, clutching her new wound. "You'll pay for that!" The woman quickly stood back up and let out a primal roar, not letting the pain get in her way. She redoubled her focus and tried another flurry of balanced strikes, keeping an eye out for those twin blades of his. "I don't think so," he said, as he stepped forward. Kristhal weaved to the side, narrowly missing his attack. "Don't you dare!" she shouted, dropping down into a defensive stance. Joseph swung both blades down. Sparks flew everywhere as his twin blades crashed into her zweihander. He was trying to push through… force her to submit. Unfortunately for him… "Rrraaaaagggh!!" She was far stronger than he was.

#fan fiction #Dummkopf From Distant Lands #original characters #dayax19 #Kristhal Jonsdottir #Jessica (dayax19)#Dylan (dayax19)#Jonathan (dayax19)#jolikmc #Joseph Dominique #drama #slice of life #action

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weirdsht · 3 years ago

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Creterion . Apus

a/n: tbh this has been on my mind since i uploaded the last chapter but i didn't have the time to even write prompts about it. also i can't seem to remember how i write befoer so i'm not sure if this is my usual writing style or at least similar to it...

Warnings: gn neutral reader (i think? i might slip tho sooo), reader is unsure of everything, and tries to see teyvat as something really good, basically gaslighting themselves lol, lore spoilers (?), possible misinformation about visions and archons and genshin's world in general, hints of imposter syndrome, hints of negative thoughts and possible mental illness (like depressive thoughts and stuff), minimal dialogue (there's only like one or two lines), just the usual of me being unable to word my thoughts properly

English isn’t my first language so there will be grammatical errors

Pls don't repost my work anywhere without my permission

If there's something missing in the warnings let me know so I can add it

Any form of interaction toward the post is appreciated <333

This is a series but it can be read as a stand alone

prev . next

masterlist

“Is Teyvat really created for me? Everything just seems so… surreal.” You’ve been pondering about that since you first came to the world. Everything just doesn’t make sense in your head.

The daughter of the Kamisato clan brings down her teacup as she stares at you worriedly. She hates seeing her deity lost and unsure. “All of us can assure you that all of this is for you. I’m sure that you can also feel how much more lively this world seems to be since you came. Not just that but it also follows and guides you and makes sure that everything is to your liking if Teyvat itself can help it. I’m sure that you only need to take a moment to hear out nature and you will know what I’m talking about your grace.”

Thoma nods enthusiastically at the things Ayaka is explaining to you. All of them can indeed feel that the world is more lively since you came home. Especially the part of Teyvat where you are. They already expected that you coming to terms to this world will be a slow progress, after all they took you home on a whim and you only ever knew of Teyvat as a fictional world in a game you love and cherish.

Your tea session with the two Inazuma residents came to a halt when Sayu informed the two about the meeting they should start preparing for.

The topic may have ended during your tea time but that doesn’t stop you from mulling over it when you were alone. Your poor brain just can’t seem to fathom how it is possible that a world was created for you, only you and no one else. You aren’t even aware of all of this until Albedo brought you here.

But then again it’s the same thing with visions. The archons don't know who has their elements visions. A person’s ambition and beliefs are the factors that make it possible for one to receive a vision. Not really necessarily an archon’s favoritism to someone.

That may be the case but of course the archons still have a contribution to giving away the visions aside from it being their element. An archon's desires, beliefs, fancy you name it, is what makes the criteria to giving visions away.

Like how Barbatos is the god of freedom and has lost someone very important to him. Factors like this about him became important in distributing anemo visions as you can notice that the people who have them lost someone dear to them, or desire to achieve freedom (even if their way of freedom is somehow unconventional as their freedom is up to their standard and ambition), or most of the time it’s both.

Wait…

Wait a minute…

It kind of makes sense now…

Of course not everything is coherent for you but thinking about what you remember about Genshin’s lore shines some light to your dilemma.

Its very possible that you manifested everything in this world. Your desires, ambitions, wants, and needs are what makes up this world.

Earth was… more or less fine. You weren't happy most of the time when you were there and there were too many things going on that you didn’t take a liking to. Teyvat seems to be the opposite though, sure there are some things that you don’t like but that can easily be outweighed by the things you love and cherish about the world. Ever since you first tried out Genshin Impact it was like someone took a look inside your brain and made a world based on what you like and cherish.

Your old world, your old life wasn’t the greatest. It manifested some severe negative thoughts, made you sick with how society worked and made you want to end it all with all the expectations. But here, here in Teyvat you’re free. Without a doubt there are still some of those things in this world but for you personally it isn't as suffocating as the one on earth.

It wasn’t so bad that you would cry yourself to sleep. Not so bad that you would have to sacrifice something in your life that you really cherish and love just to live up to other people’s expectations. It wasn’t so horrid that everyday you wish for everything to end and for you to just be gone because you’re so done with the world.

The more you cogitate on it the more you execrate your old life and wish to forget about it along with the emotional suffering it brought upon you.

Well not like all of those things matter anymore. Teyvat is your world, your home, a place where you can start anew and let go of the past as all of that doesn’t matter. A place where you can be yourself and everyone will vouch for you and the things you like.

Teyvat really is the ideal place for you. You can even go as far as to call it paradise. Hopefully you know what you signed yourself up for. After all people always say that you must be careful for what you wish for.

#Creterion . Sagau #genshin #platonic genshin #sagau #genshin sagau #cult au #genshin impact #soft yandere

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starlightkun · 3 years ago

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snowflake ; ayakashi ❧ doyoung [five]

❧ word count: 10.7k

❧ warnings: cursing, more fluff, more mutual hurt/comfort, kim doyoung is Hot but like not literally bc snow spirit but like he is extra sexy in this part merry christmas y’all

❧ extra info: heavily based off yet another otome game, ayakashi: romance reborn ; bc of this, all the lore used in here is inspired by/based on/taken from the lore of the game, not the actual lore of traditional ayakashi/yokai stories ;

there are occasional moments where the reader’s lips change colors due to being too cold and i try to avoid mentioning the specific color when i can, but when i can’t, the phrase ‘(blue/pale)’ will pop up. depending on skintone, your lips will turn different colors in the cold, so you can fill in whichever is more accurate for you at those parts!

❧ DISCLAIMER: some aspects of plot and character traits are directly lifted from the otome game ayakashi: romance reborn and utilized in the character equivalents in this story; the base lore, plot, and characters were heavily inspired by the game, but it has all been transformed into my own story. there are no spoilers for the game by reading this series

⤷ prologue* ⤷ prev. ⤷ next

*you need to read the prologue before reading any of the individual routes

Waking up in the morning, you found yourself still wrapped up in your cocoon, not cold at all. You’d slept through the night peacefully, not being woken up by shivers or shakes. You could feel all your fingers and toes. In fact, you were just a little too warm. Sunlight streamed in through the window, hitting the form of the still sleeping Doyoung in such a way that he seemed to be glowing. He was still on his side, facing you, the arm on the bottom stretched out towards you, the other tucked into his chest.

An idea popped into your mind, and you eagerly went to follow through with it. Tearing away some of your blankets, you freed yourself up to sit up against your pillow, grabbing your emergency hoodie from the nightstand. You tugged it over your head, surely messing up your hair even more than sleep had. Bringing a couple of blankets with you, you inched across the bed to Doyoung’s side. More specifically, into his arms. Lifting his top arm up, you draped it over you as you tucked yourself under his chin.

A squeal escaped your mouth when his arms suddenly tightened around you and he rolled over, jerking you on top of him.

“Sneaky, hm?” Doyoung questioned you teasingly, voice thick with sleep.

“You were awake?” You squeaked out as your legs got tangled with his as well as the various blankets and sheets.

“Dozing,” he corrected you, the word punctuated by a yawn. “Warm?”

“Very,” you assured him.

“Good, then you can doze with me. Just for a bit.”

His eyes had remained shut the entire time, and at his offer, you eagerly closed your own, settling into your position. You were going to fully enjoy this moment while you could. Before either you got too cold or had to leave for breakfast.

As you laid there, feeling Doyoung’s chest rising up and down, his arms securely around you, legs laced with yours, there was an insurmountable, all-consuming feeling bubbling up within you. This one didn’t scare you, however, it thrilled you. It was definitely love, love for Kim Doyoung. But you couldn’t tell him that yet, not until you got something else off your chest first.

“Doyoung.”

“Yes?” His chest vibrated against yours.

“I have two things to tell you.”

“I’m listening.”

“One’s really, really good, the other is… questionable.”

You had been craning your neck to look up at him, and one of his eyes finally opened, looking at you questioningly.

“Okay…”

“I’ve got to tell you the questionable thing first then the good thing.”

“Okay…”

“Alright, so, it’s kind of a long story. Well, maybe it’s—no, it’s kind of long.”

“You’re stalling.”

“Yeah,” you confirmed, letting out a shaky breath as you steeled your nerves. “Okay, so you know how my best friend Jaemin is Kun’s personal shopper?”

“Yes.”

“Back when you and I had just gone on a few dates and I didn’t really know about the cold thing, I was really concerned about why you didn’t want to touch me. Jaemin offered to tell me anything you said about me when you came into the shop. I knew you were too professional for that, but I told him to tell me anyway if anything happened to be said.”

“What did he tell you?”

“Nothing.”

“Oh, good.”

“He called me and let me listen in on your conversation with Kun,” you blurted out in one breath, guilt swimming in your gut. Doyoung tensed up underneath you at this revelation, and you pushed forward in the story, needing to be absolutely truthful, “The day that he came in for a suit fitting, and he was talking about asking me to be his date to that gala.”

“How much did you hear?”

“Up until Kun asked Jaemin for a purple tie.”

Three entire seconds passed before your boyfriend said anything, and you were holding your breath the whole time.

“So you heard me lose my temper with Mr. Qian.”

“And that you were into me.”

“Well, that’s an understatement now,” he mused aloud, and you could feel the tension leave his muscles again.

“Are you mad?”

Doyoung gently caressed your cheek, his fingers leaving chills in their wake, “No, Y/N, I’m not mad. It must have been so frustrating for you, hearing me say that but then still being so distant with you on our dates.”

“It was,” you admitted, preening into his touch.

“So what’s the really, really good thing, then?”

Firmly planting a hand on either side of Doyoung’s head, you propped yourself up to be able to look him in the eye. He raised his eyebrows at this, amusement on his features as he patiently waited for you to speak.

“I love you, Kim Doyoung,” you declared softly.

“I love you, Y/L/N Y/N.” His cheeks flushed baby blue as he looked up at you, gaze filled with nothing but absolute adoration. “Warm?”

Knowing where this was going, you nodded, “Warm.”

Doyoung’s hand came up to cradle the back of your head, guiding your face closer to his until your lips met. It was a slow, soft, and sweet kiss, reaffirming what the two of you had just said.

You reluctantly drew back when you felt the chill of the Erethulian beneath you finally seep through your blankets. Dropping a final peck to the corner of his mouth, you rolled off of him and back to your side.

“Cold.”

Doyoung nodded, sitting up and reaching over to help pull all your quilts and blankets back onto you, careful to only touch the bedding. “Get as warm as you can now, it’ll be easier to stay warm.”

You just looked up at him fondly as you watched him tuck the edges underneath you and around your head, leaving just your eyes and the tip of your nose visible. Seeming satisfied with his handiwork, his eyes finally caught yours, and a fond little smile tugged at his lips.

“What?” You asked, the word slightly muffled by the red fluffy blanket over your mouth.

“Nothing,” he shook his head, the expression never leaving his features. “I just… love you.”

An absolutely smitten grin overtook your face, definitely visible in your cheeks and eyes that were visible to him, “I love you too.”

A quiet moment passed by as you reveled in the warming feeling of loving and being loved.

“That was the first time you’d ever called me a term of endearment,” you said matter-of-factly, entirely out of the blue.

“I didn’t say anything?”

“In the Lady’s Spring, when you called me love,” you clarified, giddiness bubbling up in your chest as you said it.

“Ah,” he clicked his tongue against his teeth with the revelation. “It was, wasn’t it?”

“Mhm.”

“Do you want me to keep calling you that?”

“Please.”

“Okay, love.”

Your face got hot for a moment as an absolutely lovestruck grin came to your lips. It was covered by the blankets, but you were sure he could see the crinkles around your eyes that accompanied the smile.

There was another stretch of silence as the two of you just kept looking at each other lovingly, you in your cocoon of blankets and Doyoung sitting a few inches away on the bed. He patted your legs through the blanket before moving his gaze to the window, a wordless ending of that moment.

“We have twenty minutes before breakfast. How’s your temperature?”

“Definitely warming up again. I’ll probably be good to start getting ready in ten or so.”

Your boyfriend moved back to the other side of the bed to swing his legs over the side and stand up. He took a second to stretch before walking over to the dresser.

“What do you want to wear, love? I’ll go ahead and get it out for you to minimize the amount of time that you’re without layers.”

Doyoung truly would never cease to amaze you in how thoughtful he was of you. So considerate, in his own analytic way of viewing things. You took a moment to contemplate his question before answering.

“Top drawer, fuzzy socks, the blue ones,” you instructed, and he immediately complied. Upon seizing the pair of socks in question, he turned to you with a single raised eyebrow.

“Snowflakes?”

“Wish I could say that was intentional, but all the fuzzy socks were winter-themed, so it’s just a big coincidence,” you admitted.

Doyoung’s face betrayed that he didn’t quite believe you, but he moved on nevertheless, “Okay, next?”

Finally, Doyoung had acquired and laid out your outfit for the day in such a manner that would streamline the process of getting dressed as much as possible. When he had explained it that way to you, you couldn’t help but be absolutely stricken with affection for this man. Doing something so sweet for you, but still in the way that he’d approach any task that he was given at his job: extremely organized, carefully planned, and with peak efficiency. It was so… him, and you were truly in love with him, everything about him.

“Alright, time to emerge from my cocoon,” you announced, mentally preparing yourself for the sudden surge of cold air that would be greeting you when you did so. You were going to do it as fast as possible, throwing all your covers off and exposing yourself to the cold. Like ripping off a bandaid.

“I’m going to the restroom for a moment, will you be okay out here?”

“I’m not a child, Doyoung, I can dress myself.”

“Of course. I’ll be just a few minutes.”

Your eyes followed his figure until he disappeared into the bathroom. Refocusing yourself, you steeled your nerves. One, two, three.

Fuck! That’s cold.

Doyoung’s system was rather efficient, but it was hard to appreciate it in the moment as you rushed and bumbled through all the steps with great haste. It was when you had everything on except footwear that you realized a failure in how you dictated to Doyoung, and in his process. The two of you hadn’t accounted for your lack of flexibility with all of the layers on. You couldn’t put your boots on like this. Sure, you could probably shove your feet in them standing up but tying them would be an impossible task.

With some humor and some shame in your voice, you called out, “Doyoung?”

“Yes?” His voice floated through the door.

“When you get out here, I need your help. I can’t bend over to get my boots on,” you admitted sullenly.

He sounded somewhat amused as he replied, “I’ll be out soon, love.”

“Okay.”

You sat down on the edge of the bed for one more failed attempt at doing it yourself before giving up and deciding to just patiently wait for him like that. The sound of the bathroom door opening and Doyoung’s quiet footsteps alerted you to him being back in the same room as you. Not even bothering to turn around, you joked, “It’s like I’m eight months pregnant or something, can’t even tie my own shoes.”

As his figure appeared in your peripheral vision, you looked up from your swinging feet only to immediately have your breath taken away. Doyoung was wearing an outfit just like you had seen all the other Erethulians in, but somehow even more beautiful. His was white with fine silver and gold detailing throughout that shined as brilliantly as the ice crystals that comprised the rest of it. The cloth elegantly draped over his form and as he got closer you could see the fine detail of the ice crystals, how the varying sizes were all woven together to create intricate designs along the cuffs of the long sleeves, the shoulders, and the torso, all accented with silver and gold. They reminded you of clouds, or the swirls of wind in a painting. A belt was around his waist, and the patterning on that was all sharp angles, triangles forming hexagons, all varying shades of blue.

He dropped to one knee in front of you and grabbed the first boot, holding it out expectantly. You lamely stuck out your foot for him, still taking in just how… beautiful he was.

“Wrong foot.”

Heat flushed your cheeks as you stuck your other foot out. Doyoung tugged it on, eyes focused on the task but voice teasing as he said, “You’re staring.”

“So?” You shot back, now beginning to come back to your senses.

He gave a single shake of his head and remained quiet as he laced up your boot and tied it tightly for you, then did the same with the other one.

“There,” he stood up right as there was two distinct knocks at the door. “Breakfast time. Ready to go, Y/N?”

“Yep,” you rose as well, stuffing your gloved hands into the pockets of your jacket. “So where’d you get the new clothes?”

“They’re not new,” he informed you, a tinge of sadness in his tone. “They’re the clothes I left Erethulia in. I just made them a bit bigger.”

Your heart hurt as you understood what had happened: he’d kept the clothes he’d run away in all these years, never quite letting go of where he had come from, who he had been. And he’d put them back on.

“Well, they look very nice on you.”

“Thanks, love. You look good too.”

“Right, thanks, snowflake.”

As you walked down the hallway beside Doyoung, you thought about how ridiculous the two of you must look as a pair. Doyoung donning a beautifully crafted, absolutely elegant robe made of millions of tiny ice crystals that glittered like it was made of diamonds, next to you, a vaguely human-shaped blob with more layers than a Jawbreaker.

“Great, you look all handsome and royal and ethereal meanwhile I’m a freaking marshmallow,” you grumbled sarcastically.

“If it makes you feel any better, I think you’re a very cute marshmallow,” Doyoung replied simply, as blunt as ever.

“Makes me feel a little better, I guess.”

There was a gentle patting of your head, minute through your hoods, and you looked over at Doyoung through slit eyes, well aware that he was teasing you now.

The two of you left the green hall and turned into the orange hall, where you had seen Minhee, Chanshik, and Chaewon go into last night to eat. There was a doorway just past the entrance, completely open for you to walk in. Within wasn’t some grand dining hall like you had imagined. Sure, it was nice—a rather long table carved of light grey stone with a tablecloth that glittered just like Doyoung’s clothes, twenty matching chairs all around it—but not quite as royal as your brain had been hyping up. You liked this better though, humble, aside from the scale.

“Big table,” you mumbled under your breath, only then noticing the other three people that were there: Chanshik, Chaewon, and Minhee.

“Well it has to fit the entire staff and Royal Family,” Doyoung said, as if that was obvious. “Everyone in the castle dines together.”

Every detail you learned about the royalty of Erethulia painted a picture of very kind, compassionate people who were truly concerned with the wellbeing of their people, and who saw themselves as no better than anybody else. Wholly good people.

There were two empty seats at the head of the table, Chanshik caddy-corner to one, Chaewon beside him, and Minhee across from them. You figured those seats might for you and Doyoung, but still looked to your boyfriend to see what he was going to do. You weren’t about to make any sort of assumptions. With a slight grimace, he led you to that end of the table, then gestured for you to sit in the seat beside Minhee. Next, he took the other one, beside Chanshik.

“Did you sleep well last night?” Chanshik asked as more Erethulians came from an entrance off to the side, carrying dishes and cups.

“In the Yearling Quarters,” Chaewon grumbled under her breath, disapproving.

Doyoung looked at the older woman sharply, but didn’t acknowledge her and instead answered Chanshik’s question, “Yes, I slept fine. Y/N?”

“Great, I was a lot more tired from the trip here than I thought I’d be,” you replied brightly, eyes taking in all the plates being set down in front of you and the others.

“Good, good.”

The Erethulians whom you had presumed to be the kitchen staff had finished setting your five spots, as well as an additional five on the other side of Chaewon and Minhee. As they took their own seats, you realized sadly how empty the table seemed. You kept your hands firmly in your lap, hesitant to begin eating or even pick up a utensil, instead watching the others for cues about any sort of pre-meal ritual or another relevant custom.

But everybody was staring right back, looking at you almost expectantly. You looked to Doyoung for help, but it was Chaewon who answered your unspoken question.

“You are at the head of the table,” she stated, eyes boring into Doyoung.

As if he had suddenly remembered something, your boyfriend straightened up and grabbed his fork, then nudged your elbow, “Once we take a bite everyone else can eat.”

“Oh!” You rushed to pick up your own fork, fumbling for an awkward amount of time with your reduced dexterity thanks to your gloves. Looking over the options on your plate, you decided upon stabbing a slice of pear to pop into your mouth. As soon as both you and Doyoung had started chewing, conversation immediately erupted around the table as everyone began eating.

Realizing that you hadn’t properly been introduced to the girl beside you, who Doyoung wanted you to spend the morning with, you quickly swallowed your bite then turned to her.

“I’m Y/N, by the way,” you said.

“Minhee,” she placed a delicate hand over her chest as she said her name. “It’s nice to meet you, Onmyoji.”

“So, do you work here? In the castle?”

“Yes, I do.”

“And what exactly do you do?”

“Whatever’s asked of me,” she shrugged, taking a bite before continuing. “It’s different every day. Yesterday I prepared the Evergreen Quarters. Today I’ll probably be helping Taekwoon with inventory in the kitchens.”

Minhee jabbed a thumb at the man beside her, whose attention whipped to the two of you upon hearing his name. “Hm?”

“Is it inventory day, Taekwoon?”

“Oh, yes,” he nodded before returning back to whoever he had been talking to previously.

You felt both your eyebrows raise in interest, “That takes all day?”

“Oh, no, should just be a few hours,” she shook her head. “I’m only working the morning today.”

“Ah, got it, got it. That’s nice. What are you going to do for the rest of the day, then?”

“Not sure yet. Might take a nap… or go down to the valley and draw. Or both.”

Minhee was unlike any Erethulian that you had met so far. You’d only met three, admittedly, but they had all been rather focused. Even Chanshik, who had been the brightest out of all of them. But Minhee seemed much more flexible, and altogether aimless. Very go-with-the-flow.

You were about to ask about her drawings when she spoke again.

“You should eat, Onmyoji.”

It was then that you realized you hadn’t taken a single bite since your initial one, too focused on your conversation with Minhee.

“Oh, right!”

The conclusion of breakfast was something your butt was very much looking forward to. The coolness of the stone chairs had seeped through your pants fairly early into the meal, and you made a mental note to bring a blanket to sit on next time. Minhee had just begun picking up plates and cups along with the kitchen staff when Doyoung stopped her.

“Minhee, I have a special request for you.”

She looked up curiously, handing the dinnerware to Taekwoon instead, “Yes?”

“I’d like for you to show Y/N around the castle while I attend to other matters,” he continued. “Just for the morning, you’ll still be let off at lunchtime.”

“Okay!” Her tone had some pep in it as she agreed.

“Great,” his eyes flicked over to where Chaewon and Chanshik had started walking over to the doorway that you’d used earlier before focusing them back on the younger attendant. “I need you to listen very carefully to what I’m about to say.”

“Of course.”

“Minhee, she isn’t like you and I; her natural body temperature is much higher than ours. You have to make sure she stays warm. And if her lips turn (blue/pale), or any part of her turns (blue/pale), that’s very dangerous. If that happens, or she starts shivering, or her teeth start chattering, you take her to the Lady’s Spring. Do you understand? She can die if she gets too cold.”

“Doyoung, I’m not going to die from a shiver,” you finally interrupted his speech. “You’re scaring the poor girl. And making me sound like some delicate flower that can wilt away at any second.”

“She’s never been around anything but Erethulians before, she doesn’t know what to look for like I do. Doesn’t know how dire hypothermia is. And apparently neither do you.”

“I’ll self-regulate like normal, Doyoung,” you assured him, bringing your hands up to rub at his furrowed brow with your thumbs. It was a little awkward with the thick gloves on, but he seemed to get the point, relaxing his frown just a little bit.

“Promise?”

“I promise.”

He took your hands in his, bringing them up to kiss your knuckles, something you could barely feel through the material.

“Be safe, have fun. I’ll see you for lunch, okay?”

“Okay,” you smiled at him. “Have fun doing important things.”

“I have a feeling it won’t be very fun.”

“Well then I’ll just make sure lunch will be fun. I’ll brush up on my knock-knock jokes.”

Finally, a hint of a smile flickered across his lips, “Please don’t.”

You shoved on his shoulder playfully, “Rude.”

“Bye, Y/N,” Doyoung pressed a final kiss to your gloves before dropping your hands.

“Bye, snowflake,” you responded quietly, watching as he met the two at the doorway, giving you one last glance before the three of them took leave of the room. Your eyes did a double-take on a strange grey mark on the back of Chanshik and Chaewon’s necks, an inverted triangle with some kind of flower within it. They were too far away and left your vision far too quickly for you to get a better look than that. But you were pretty sure you hadn’t noticed that before.

As soon as Doyoung disappeared from your view, you shook your momentary confusion away and turned to Minhee, a mission in your mind. Doyoung had been so sure that the Chancellor had destroyed every picture of his family without even looking. You weren’t going to give up so easy. He deserves to be able to remember what his own parents look like. He deserves some kind of connection to them and to his past.

“Should we just start at the red hall and go from there?” You suggested as the two of you began your own path from the dining hall.

“The red…?” Minhee seemed confused by your phrasing for a split second before she seemed to understand what you meant. “Oh, you mean the Mono Wing?”

“Ah, so that’s what it’s called, my bad.”

“We shouldn’t go there now. That’s where the government center is located.”

“The what?”

“Where the Royal Family makes important decisions, where town halls happen, any criminal trials happen, things like that.”

“Why shouldn’t we go there now?”

“Prince Doyoung will be discussing our situation with the townspeople in there.”

As much as you didn’t want to be ignorant of the issue plaguing Erethulia and your boyfriend’s people, it didn’t sound like the kind of place that would aid in your search. So you nodded in understanding.

“Oh, and we’re in the… orange…”

“Di Wing,” Minhee corrected you at your prompting.

“Di Wing,” you repeated to commit it to memory. “I’ve seen the dining hall, could I see the kitchens? And is there anything else in this wing?”

“Just the kitchens. Come, Onmyoji, I’m sure the rest of the staff will be delighted to meet you.”

Delighted? You weren’t sure if you knew what Erethulian delight even looked like. It was an entire new culture and society for you to get used to. While Doyoung was Erethulian and had initially been cold and unemotional to you, it had faded as you got to know him better, and he was definitely the most emotionally expressive out of all of the ones you’d met: Chaewon, Chanshik, Minhee, even the brief split-second impression of Taekwoon that you’d gotten seemed to line up with them as well. He would still easily be considered reserved by human standards, but here it seemed that he was incredibly emotive in comparison. Doyoung had spent his early years in Erethulia, enough of it that he could remember some customs, but most of his formative years and most of his life had been in the human world, around humans and other Ayakashi that weren’t snow spirits. Surely that must be why he stuck out here.

You continued ruminating on this as Minhee led the way towards the kitchens.

In the yellow hall—the Tri Wing—you and Minhee took the left at the fork instead of the right, and found that it contained a large amphitheater. You had hoped that maybe the backstage area for the cast and crew would have some random nook or cranny that could have a picture of Doyoung’s family in it. No such luck.

The green hall—the Tetra Wing—was the residential wing. Some of it was already familiar to you from last night, but further down the hall also had a few guest rooms, rooms for staff members who wished to either live in the castle or needed to sleep there for some other reason, and of course the Evergreen Quarters. It was in here that you hoped some depiction of the King and Queen would have survived. No such luck, it was the most impersonal of all of the places you’d been in. Minhee explained that the Chancellor had lived here after he took over and had entirely redesigned it from when the King and Queen had been there. No way he would have left a picture of the Royal Family here.

Back in the foyer, you turned towards the next hall, the one with the sheet over it.

“That’s the Penta Wing, Onmyoji. You shouldn’t go in there,” Minhee warned you.

“Why not?”

“The Chancellor started renovating it but never finished. It’s been under construction for nearly two decades now, there’s no telling what sort of precarious state it’s in. Unstable pillars, unfinished paving, it’s hazardous.”

Under construction for two decades, seemingly abandoned for a similar amount of time. Seems like possibly the most untouched place in the castle. Perhaps your best bet. You ducked under the sheet into the hall.

The hall was as grand as every other one you had been in, despite the state of disarray of the construction equipment held within. Elaborate pillars of rock and crystal and ice loomed far above you, all in different shades of blue, from baby blue to true blue to cerulean to a deep ocean blue that you imagined could only be found elsewhere at the bottom of the sea. Ladders leaned up against many of them and some had large chunks missing. Motifs of snowflakes were carved into the parts of the walls and floors that were still intact. But these weren’t the delicate, fancy snowflakes that were typically depicted. These were all sharp angles, ending in six points that would be razor sharp if not for them being simple carvings. Dangerous but ethereal nonetheless.

“Onmyoji!” Minhee called after you. “Please, don’t go any further.”

“Sorry, Minhee,” you replied over your shoulder, sidestepping a random hole in the flooring. “Stay there if you’re worried for your safety, I don’t mind.”

“I’m worried for your safety. I was put in charge of you.”

“Then come with me!” You turned your focus upwards, taking in the beauty of the vaulted ceilings. There was another hole up there, interrupting the elaborate paintings that adorned the entirety of the surface. Light streamed in from the hole, a spotlight on you as you stood below it. A cloud passed by briefly, white and puffy. The paintings were also blue toned, reminding you of cubism in a sense. It was all angles and strong lines, continuing on with the snowflakes from the walls and floors, now given depth and contrast.

It was all so beautiful. But extrapolating from the destruction, the construction that was being done here wasn’t creating the art all around you but destroying it. You were glad that it had been halted, for whatever reason.

A stone from the mouth of the hole suddenly lost its grip and fell. Thankfully, you had been looking right as it happened, and were able to back out of the way with plenty of time. It struck the floor with a solid thud and crack. The chunk was about half your height and at least triple your width. That wouldn’t have felt nice if it had hit you.

“Onmyoji!” Minhee’s yell was followed by the sound of shoes slapping against the floor as she ran towards you.

“I’m alright, Minhee,” you announced as she skidded around another sheet to finally have you in her sight.

The girl was breathing heavily, eyes wide with concern as she rushed up to you, looking between you and the large rock almost comically. She began visibly checking you over for wounds, as if she didn’t believe you.

“I’m okay,” you reassured her once more, standing still for her to inspect you.

Her cold fingers pressed into your skin as she knocked your hoods off and tilted your head this way and that way, then grabbed your bundled-up arms and shoved your many sleeves up as far as she could to look over the skin there as well. Finally, she seemed satisfied enough to let you go, and quickly pulled your sleeves back down and your hoods back up, presumably with Doyoung’s warning about your body temperature playing in her mind.

Once she had let go of you, you continued further into the hall.

“Onmyoji, please.”

“Sorry, Minhee, but I’m looking for something.”

“What?”

You let out a short sigh, “A picture of Doyoung’s family. He has none, and he can’t remember what they look like. Nobody deserves to lose their family once to death and again to faded memories.”

“Very well,” Minhee relented, walking along with you. “I do hope you know that this may be a futile quest, Onmyoji. The Chancellor got rid of all the pictures of the Royal Family after he took over.”

“I know. But I have to try.”

Continuing down the hall, you tried to figure out what this wing’s purpose was before the Chancellor’s destruction took it out of commission. After wracking your brain, you came up with nothing.

“Do you know what this wing used to be for?” You asked Minhee, eyes scrutinizing from the floor to the ceiling, still searching.

Minhee answered almost immediately, “The arts. Drawing, painting, sculpting, carving, any fine arts that wouldn’t use the Tri Wing. It’s where I would have worked, hopefully.”

A frown came to your face at the loss of their arts center, but before you could comment on it, you spotted a door. You darted over to it, narrowly sidestepping a patch of ice. No Doyoung here to stabilize you, you had to protect yourself. The door was easy to pull open, and you found yourself in something resembling your high school art classroom. There wasn’t much left aside from the basic layout, and you hurried over to another open door that was within it, probably the supply closet. Nothing. Drawers? Nothing. Cabinets? Nothing. Everything was empty.

The next few rooms you encountered were classrooms, and just as bare as the first one.

With a hunch, you skipped over the rest of the doors, going for the very last one at the end of the hall, on your left. Inside, you felt your hope spike as you realized that this wasn’t a classroom, it was—

“A private studio,” Minhee breathed out in awe as she looked around the room.

A few random supplies were scattered around, the odd paintbrush, small tube of paint, a rag. Walking the perimeter, you stopped when you heard a hollow sound rather than the solid thump of your heavy boots on stone. Tapping it again, you looked at it closer. It was a section of floor no bigger than your hand, revealed by edges of a rug being flipped up. Except it wasn’t stone like everything else, this was ice.

“Minhee!” You called her over, kneeling down beside it. It felt sturdy when you tapped it, and there was no way you were going to be able to get this open yourself.

The girl joined you, eyebrows raising at the sight of the hidden panel, “Do you want me to remove the ice, Onmyoji?”

“Please.”

Placing her hand over it, you were amazed to see a handle materializing in her hand, firmly attached to the sheet of ice. She pulled it up with a swift motion, revealing a small storage space. And placed within that space was a small canvas, fit in at an angle. Exerting as much caution as possible, you reached in and daintily grabbed the very edge of it to bring it out. It was longer than you had anticipated, a wide rectangle. Turning it over so you could see the front, you let out a gasp.

It was a painting of three people: a man with dark black hair and stormy grey eyes that matched his salt and pepper stubble, a softness around his eyes as he looked at the two people with him; a woman with brown hair but piercing black eyes, the very corner of her mouth quirked up as she gazed at the smaller form sitting on her lap; a child, no older than primary school age, with dark black hair like his father and dark black eyes like his mother, smiling up at his father. They were all wearing white Erethulian robes, with fine detailing in silver and gold. You couldn’t even marvel at how the artist had gotten such minute detail and precision in the piece as tears brimmed in your eyes.

This was Doyoung’s family. Together, happy, in their own Erethulian way. Doyoung must have been overjoyed, to have been fully smiling. You wondered what had happened to make him that jubilant, or if it was artistic discretion.

A sudden pang of guilt formed in the pit of your stomach. You’d seen this before Doyoung had. You saw his parents before he had, you knew what they looked like before he could.

“Good thing you were persistent,” Minhee patted your shoulder, and you were surprised at the contact. You’d forgotten that she was there, honestly.

Blinking a few times to clear your eyes of your tears and your mind of your guilt, you nodded, smiling down at the painting, “Yeah. I can’t wait to give this to him.”

“It’s unfinished, though.”

“What do you mean?” The entire canvas was covered, none of them were missing any body parts, it seemed rather whole to you.

“The painter didn’t finish adding highlights. They started over here with the King, do you see?” Minhee gestured to a lock of the King's hair, then his robes, where there certainly were lighter strokes. She then pointed at Doyoung's mother, “They finished most of the highlights on the Queen, but there's none on the Prince.”

Looking at Doyoung in the painting, you saw the lack of shine on his hair like there was on his dad's, or on the tip of his nose like his mother's.

“Could you finish it?” You asked her, making her eyes widen.

“Oh no, Onmyoji, I don’t have nearly enough skill, and I’d be much too afraid of messing up such a wonderful piece. I’m sorry.”

“That’s fine, Minhee,” you reassured her, gaze turning fond as you looked down at the painting once more. “I’m sure Doyoung won’t care about a few missing brushstrokes.”

Right as you and Minhee emerged from the Hexa Wing—the final hall, washed with purple, and their economic center—into the main foyer, your stomach growled. You were pretty sure that you were wearing too many layers for it to have been audible to the girl with you, but you still stole a glance at her face to look for any indication that you were wrong. Then you realized how foolish you were being—she was an Erethulian.

The portrait of Doyoung’s family was tucked into the inside of your outer parka, and you patted that area to double check that it was still there.

A group of people emerging from one of the halls on your left caught your attention, and you couldn’t keep your giddy grin under control when you saw Doyoung at the front of them. Oddly, it was from the Di Wing and not the Mono Wing, where you had been told his meetings were, and he had a bag in his hand that you knew he didn’t have when the two of you split after breakfast. He met gazes with you, letting you know that he had seen you but couldn’t join you right then and there. The prince exchanged a few more words with the man he had been speaking to, both of their faces so neutral that you couldn’t tell anything about the tone of the conversation. With a final nod to each other, the man headed towards the large doorway between the Mono and Hexa Wings, only affording you a sharp side eye as he did so. You reminded yourself not to be miffed over it, he was probably just taking in your attire.

Doyoung was left talking to only two people, Chaewon and Chanshik. You’d never been given their official roles in the castle, but you could make an educated guess that they were some sort of advisors to the Royal Family. Finally, he split apart from the older Erethulians, features softening and turning relieved as he focused in on you.

“Hi,” you chirped brightly, holding one of your gloved hands out towards him.

He gladly took it in his free hand, pressing a kiss to your knuckles, “Hi.”

There was a beat before he turned his attention to Minhee, “You’re free to go, Minhee, thank you.”

“Of course,” she nodded first to Doyoung, then to you. “I’d also like to request any future assignments like this, if Onmyoji doesn’t have any objections.”

“Of course I don’t!” You replied, truly thrilled at this apparent seal of approval from her. “I had a great time with you, I’d love to hang out again.”

The very corner of the girl’s mouth twitched for a moment, “I’m glad.”

“I’ll make sure you accompany Y/N when I can’t,” Doyoung assured her, and you felt his grip on your hand tighten minutely.

“Thank you. I’ll see the both of you tomorrow, Onmyoji, Prince.”

With that, she too took leave of the castle, leaving you only with your boyfriend now.

“You’re just making so many friends here, Y/N,” he mused, leading you towards the Tri Wing. “Only been a day and you have Minhee and the kitchen staff in your lovely, friendly, personable clutches.”

“The kitchen staff?” You questioned, taking a right at the fork with him.

“When I went in to request that they pack our lunch, they all couldn’t stop talking about you. They think you’re very cute.”

“I’m guessing in the ‘oh look at that fluffy puppy it’s so cute’ kind of way.”

“Yes, they’re all very charmed by the cute, clumsy, warm human all bundled up.”

“Glad I made a good impression. They mentioned me knocking over the jug, didn’t they?”

“They were endeared.”

“Really? Taekwoon looked like he was going to kill me.”

“Erethulians, love, we always kind of look like that.”

You studied Doyoung’s face for a moment, catching onto the smile on his lips, “You don’t.”

“I know, the human world made me all soft,” he sighed in mock wistfulness.

“You, soft? Never,” you snorted, bumping your thick shoulder against his. “By human standards at least.”

As soon as you stepped foot into the Lady’s Spring, you tensed up momentarily, all the terrible, horrible memories from yesterday washing over you again.

“It’s okay, love, I’m here,” Doyoung murmured to you as he began unzipping your outer parka for you.

The action made you let out a squeak, and you rushed to shut your parka again, “Hold on!”

“Are you not getting warm?”

“No, I am,” you shook your head, feeling sweat starting to gather under your layers. “Just… go sit down and get the food out. Don’t look over here though, okay?”

“Is everything alright, Y/N?”

“Yeah, I just have a surprise for you.”

He crooked an eyebrow up but didn’t resist further, turning away from you to walk closer to the pond. With a breath of relief, you tugged off your gloves in order to properly get at the zipper of your top layer. Gingerly, you took the small canvas out of it, eyes scanning to make sure nothing had gotten messed up since you tucked it in there. It was just like before. With it set on the soft grass at your feet, you took off layer after layer until you were finally in just your pants and longsleeve. You hid the canvas behind your back as you approached Doyoung.

He was a few feet from the edge of the pond, a small assortment of food laid out in front of him.

“Can I look?” He asked, not taking his eyes away from the water as you went to stand next to him.

“Hold on,” you dropped down beside him, then leaned your cheek against his right shoulder. “Okay, you can look.”

Doyoung’s head turned so he could see you, features immediately turning tender as he went to press a kiss to your forehead.

“So what’s the surprise?”

Your heartrate rose as you sat up a little straighter, shoulder-to-shoulder with him now. Bringing the picture around to your front, you held it out above his lap, the portrait visible. You could hear his breath hitch in his throat as he realized what it was, taking it with both of his hands. His right thumb traced over his mother’s cheek, and you shifted to press even closer to him.

Stroking the back of his head with a gentle hand, you murmured, “You look like your mother.”

His mouth was parted in awe, and for the first time in your life, you saw Kim Doyoung shed a tear. The glassy drop rolled down his cheek and dripped onto his forearm below. Another first, he was speechless. Not just remaining quiet purposefully, but genuinely at a loss for words. Your chest clenched as you looked at him, his dark eyes transfixed on his family. A pointer finger followed the outline of his father’s beard, thumb of the other hand still resting on his mother’s cheek.

“They’re your memories, Doyoung, your feelings, your parents,” you reassured him firmly but quietly, left hand resting on the crook between his neck and shoulder. “And they’re deserving of your grief and love.”

“Thank you,” he finally croaked out, another tear slipping down his face. “I—I want to hold your hand but…”

“You don’t want to let go of them yet, I understand,” you stated before moving your right hand to rest gently on his forearm. “How old were you in this?”

“Eight. I remember sitting for this portrait, it was just before…” he trailed off, and your chest squeezed painfully as your mind filled in the blanks. After a heavy swallow, Doyoung changed his train of thought, “I sat on my mother’s lap at my own insistence that I wasn’t too big for it yet.”

“You all look so happy, especially the little Prince with such a big smile.”

He let out a short chuckle at your observation, “Seems I’ve always been soft and expressive. I suppose it was the human world that made me lose that, then.”

“You’re in Erethulia again, do you feel it coming back to you?”

“No,” he responded quietly, setting the canvas down on his lap. After another fond stroke to his father’s visage, he took his left hand from the painting to cup your cheek with it. With your head tilted so that you couldn’t look anywhere but into Doyoung’s eyes—his dark eyes, his mother’s eyes—your next question dropped from your mind. “I was soft before I came back.”

The sympathetic tears that had been threatening to make an appearance before now fully welled up, and you clasped your hand over his on your cheek. You tried to say ‘I love you’ but no words came out, so you only mouthed it to him.

“I love you too,” he whispered, pressing a long kiss to your forehead.

Lunch was a rather quiet affair, but you didn’t mind. When you had finally finished the food and let it settle, you felt the meal coming to a close. Time to put back on all your layers and return to the cold. With a sigh you began pulling on your multitude of clothes as Doyoung packed up the picnic things.

The bag was dropped back off at the kitchens, then the two of you were off into the city.

“So, any pressing questions about Erethulia?” Doyoung asked as the two of you began your descent.

“Uh, I think I saw something this morning, on Chaewon and Chanshik’s necks. It was this grey triangle with a flower in it, on the back of their necks. I don’t remember it being there before, but I could’ve just missed it.”

“No, you wouldn’t have been able to see it before. Those are their bond marks, their connection to their Onmyoji. Only other Ayakashi and Onmyoji with their powers can see them most of the time.”

“Bond marks?”

“Every Onmyoji, like yourself, will have five True Ayakashi—the people whose souls you are most connected to in this world—and the connection manifests in a mark on the back of your neck. The Onmyoji and their five True Ayakashi all have the same mark.”

“So Chaewon and Chanshik have the same Onmyoji.”

You hit the beginnings of the dwellings then, and felt eyes following your slow descent, but nobody made a move to approach you, and Doyoung made no move to address them either.

“Had,” he corrected you. “Bond marks are typically black; they turn grey when the Onmyoji passes and the bond between the souls is broken. My parents had the same marks, too, and a Satori as well. The six of them were the best of friends… I suppose Jiwon and Ren left when the Chancellor took over, and at some point Jiwon must have passed.”

You squeezed his arm to show your support, these sounded like people who he all knew in his childhood and were his parents’ best friends. Chaewon and Chanshik had bond marks, but you couldn’t remember there being anything on Minhee’s neck, or some of the other Erethulians you had seen briefly.

“Does every Ayakashi have an Onmyoji?”

“Yes.”

“But some of the Erethulians here don’t have bond marks.”

“Their Onmyoji doesn’t have their powers yet. Your True Ayakashi must have just gotten their own marks yesterday, you as well.”

“Really? What’s mine?”

“A lotus blossom. Very pretty, very striking.”

You leaned back slightly then frowned, “You don’t have a mark. I thought you said my True Ayakashi are the people whose souls I’m most connected to.”

“Yes.”

“Then why aren’t you one of my True Ayakashi?”

Doyoung’s face broke out into a fond smile, “I don’t know. Chaewon would say that would be a question for arwel, not me.”

The mention of ‘arwel’ caught your attention, “That brings me to my next question: Who, or what, is arwel?”

Doyoung took a moment to narrowly dodge a gaggle of Erethulian children of various ages running by before answering, “The will of nature. Sort of like the human idea of fate, but stronger, more deliberate and slightly less vague. Not any easier to predict, but more meaningful, more purposeful. It’s the closest thing we have to religion aside from Erethulia herself.”

“And who is Erethulia to you all, then? Sicheng thought she was a goddess of some kind.”

“Erethulia isn’t a goddess or deity to us, just someone whom we revere and thank.”

“So Erethulians are more spiritual than religious,” you paraphrased to check your understanding.

“Yes. I haven’t told you the story of Erethulia yet, have I?”

“No. I’d like to hear it.”

“It was her love for us that led her to become the very cave that your powers were awakened in. The Erethulians were suffering, much like they are now. She realized that the only way to help her people, to save their land, was to become part of the kingdom, part of the land, part of each and every Erethulian. It’s her love that exists within me, ties me to this kingdom, this land, and to my people.”

Your mouth had parted, and eyes widened in absolute awe at the beautiful story and words coming from Doyoung’s mouth. He slowed to a stop by the balcony that he had given his speech at the day before, and at your silence, looked at you with a raised eyebrow.

“What’s that look for?”

You were finally broken from your spell and squeezed his arm again, “Never thought I’d hear my stone cold super serious personal assistant businessman boyfriend talk like a nineteenth century Romantic.”

Your boyfriend chuckled, pulling you closer to the balcony to be able to gaze out over the rest of the town and valley below. He pressed a kiss to your head through your hoods, “Like I said, I’ve gone all soft again, love.”

Erethulia was even prettier in full daylight, the bright rays of the sun reflecting off the ice crystals and dimmed iridia crystals in the most dazzling ways. It was livelier, and you weren’t sure if it was because of the time of day or a morale boost from Doyoung’s return. The base of the valley was a rich, earthy green, and you saw glints of something down there among the rippling flora.

“So you already have flowers that don’t exist in the human world,” you prefaced your next question. “Any fauna that I don’t know about?”

“Blue cardinals. Ice doves.”

You looked over at him with skepticism, unable to tell if he was messing with you in that moment. It didn’t sound like when his dry humor would come through before, but he also sounded almost too serious.

“I can’t tell if you’re fucking with me or not.”

“One is real, one is fake. I’ll let you guess which is which.”

“You’re mean,” you scoffed, elbowing him with your heavily padded arm.

“Well? What’s your guess?”

“Are the blue cardinals fake?”

“Ah,” he clicked his tongue against his teeth. “Correct, I was too obvious with that one.”

“Ha!” You shot back victoriously. “Will I be able to see an ice dove while I’m here?”

Doyoung resumed your descent, “Probably. It’s around hatching time. Keep an eye out, they like to make their nests in any nook or cranny they can find.”

When you finally reached the bottom of the city, the paved path became just a dirt trail leading directly into the shin-high grass. The sparkling that you had seen from the balcony was coming from what looked to be orchids made entirely of ice. The crystals reflected just like glass, casting rainbows on anything nearby.

You breathed out as a tentative finger touched the petal of one, “They’re so beautiful.”

“I’m glad you could come while they were blooming still,” Doyoung said. “The warmer weather melts them until the fall.”

“Warmer? It’s below freezing still.”

“They’re very particular about the conditions they’ll grow in.”

The knowledge that they’d be disappearing soon prompted you to bring your phone out of your pocket. You hadn’t turned it on since you’d left your own city, but you wanted to take a picture of these. As soon as you opened your camera, you were reminded of other pictures you would have to take.

“We need some pictures together,” you informed him as you snapped a couple of the flower from different angles, trying to do its beauty justice. “For my parents. Oh, and you need to take a picture of me making a snow angel at some point for Johnny.”

Doyoung made a noise of acknowledgement before actually speaking, “Any distressed texts and calls from or about Taeyong and Yuta?”

Your eyes scanned your notifications intrepidly. You had some service, enough for texts to come streaming in, but judging by the singular bar of reception, you guessed that sending some back would take quite a while. You must be at the very edge of the range of the cell phone tower by the ski resort.

“Surprisingly no,” you informed him with a breath of relief. “Now come here, a couple pictures.”

Pulling up your front camera, you were able to see just how ridiculous you looked all bundled up. Just your eyes, mouth, and nose poking out from under all your hoods. You struggled with angling the picture just right so that Doyoung’s lack of winter clothes and single strange robe would be mostly covered up by your own clothing. Finally, you had a good framing with Doyoung mostly behind you, resting his head against yours. As you took a couple more, he once more kissed your head through your hood, making your smile increase tenfold.

“Okay, where’s the closest patch of snow?”

It was the last full day you were spending in Erethulia. The next day was Sunday, and you’d have to leave fairly early in the morning to make sure you were back home at a reasonable time. Breakfast that morning was buzzing with excitement—well, by Erethulian standards, which meant there was a mild uptick in their pitch—over what was going to be happening after lunch. A hockey game.

Of course the snow kingdom full of snow spirits would have their primary form of entertainment be hockey. From what you could tell, a hockey game hadn’t happened in a rather long time, the populace too weak and too hopeless to want to play. But the return of Doyoung changed that. You could see it, even in your short week there, how the city itself seemed to be growing stronger, they all seemed to be brighter. Well, as bright as Erethulians could get. Children had more energy to play, their parents often times joining in as well. It warmed your heart to see, and you could only imagine how lovely the kingdom would be as it continued healing.

Except the chatter suddenly soured as Younghoon, a staff member in the kitchen, bemoaned, “Daesung was out past his curfew last night and now his mom won’t let him play.”

“Shit, and you don’t have seconds, do you?” Minhee breathed out.

“No, practically every young adult and teenager in Erethulia is already on one of the two teams. Except you, Minhee.”

“No.”

Younghoon’s sharp eyes suddenly focused on Doyoung, “How old are you, Prince Doyoung?”

“Twenty-six.”

The younger boy’s eyes lit up just the slightest, “Still young enough!”

“What—”

“You’ll be playing, correct, Prince?” Chaewon asked, and your head was spinning from how quickly the conversation had changed.

You looked to your boyfriend for his answer, as he had never previously expressed any interest in hockey. Unless him taking you to the skating rink for your first date counted.

Doyoung nibbled on his food for a moment, thinking it over.

“It’ll be a big morale booster, Prince Doyoung,” Chanshik added hopefully.

The Prince looked to you for a moment, and you understood that he was silently asking for your opinion as well.

“It sounds like if you don’t play, there won’t be a game,” you pointed out. “You don’t want to spoil the kids’ day, do you?”

“Of course, yes, I’ll play too.”

Younghoon broke out into a small smile, “Thank you, Prince!”

The game was to be taking place down in the valley, where a large patch of ice had suddenly appeared. You imagined any one of the numerous snow spirit inhabitants had set it up preemptively. Complete with bleachers of ice. Thankfully you’d been forward thinking enough to bring the blanket you sat on at the dining table.

You’d sent Doyoung off to get ready with his team with a good luck kiss on the cheek, and you were now settled in beside Minhee front and center. It seemed that every Erethulian was either in the stands or on one of the two teams. Despite their usual monotonous affect, you could still feel their excitement electrifying the air around you.

When the teams finally began walking onto the rink, your eyes widened. In their hands were glimmering hockey sticks presumably made out of ice, which wasn’t surprising, but it was the lack of another key piece of equipment that concerned you.

“Uh, where’s their padding? And helmets?”

“Their what?” Minhee questioned, eyes focused on the athletes.

Or maybe one athlete in particular, you thought to yourself as you saw a tall woman wave in your direction, and Minhee immediately divert her eyes to her lap, cheeks flushing a baby blue.

“Oh, and who’s that, Minhee?” You elbowed her playfully.

“Jaewoon. She— oh she’s coming over here!” Her voice squeaked with genuine panic as the rather built Erethulian was indeed making her way over to the stands.

“Hey, MinMin!” The player called out as she slowed her pace down to stop in front of your friend.

“Hi, Jaewoon…”

“I thought you didn’t like watching hockey,” Jaewoon questioned knowingly.

“Onmyoji is here to watch Prince Doyoung play, and I’m kind of her guide, so…”

You sat up a bit straighter at being mentioned but didn’t make any move to help or hurt your friend.

“Oh, I see. Well, since you’re here, you might as well cheer me on, hm?” The other woman teased, cocky smirk on her lips.

“I-I—”

“I’ll be listening for you, MinMin.”

And with that, Jaewoon skated away as smoothly as she had approached, back to her team, which included Doyoung. Looking over at Minhee again, you saw that her face was now a deep cerulean blue, an even more intense blush than you had ever seen on your boyfriend.

“Anything you want to tell me, Minhee?” You prompted her, trying to keep your tone light.

“No, Onmyoji—”

“Because I personally think I’m an excellent wingman.”

“No!” She nearly shrieked, and you almost bust a lung laughing.

“I’m kidding, I’m kidding, sorry Minhee,” you apologized between laughs. “Well, only sort of kidding. But I’ll leave it be, promise.”

“Thank you.”

“But what did she mean by saying you don’t like watching hockey? I thought there hasn’t been a game for a while.”

“There hasn’t been one like this, but sometimes a pick-up game will happen. Jaewoon has invited me to watch them before.”

“And you told her you didn’t like watching hockey?”

“I panicked.”

The referee then stepped onto the ice, halting your conversation. Chanshik smiled at the audience, gliding across the ice on his skates as if it were second nature to him. It pretty much was for every Erethulian around you. Unlike yourself, who needed a few minutes each time to get used to the different terrain.

While their sticks were made of ice, the goals were made of metal like the blades of their skates, and the puck was a dark wood that you imagined was rather sturdy to be used in such a game. Doyoung and Jaewoon’s team were wearing white uniforms, made of the same material as their other clothes but this time in cuts similar to traditional hockey uniforms. They weren’t as bulky as human uniforms, presumably due to the lack of padding. The other team was wearing blue uniforms just like theirs. You figured the seamstresses and seamsters had been creating them in preparation for the past few days, ever since Doyoung had granted the request of the excited group of Erethulian teenagers who approached the two of you in town.

Before you knew it, the game had started, and you desperately wracked your brain to remember the rules of Erethulian hockey that Doyoung had told you about at lunch. Players were allowed to alter the ice under their own skates but not their opponents’. They weren’t allowed to manipulate their opponents' sticks either. Scorekeeping seemed similar enough, and while it was technically allowed to be as rough as regular human hockey, you were finding out that it didn’t seem necessary at all. Each player moved with the fluidity and grace of an ice skater, but with the brute power of a hockey player. They could easily dodge each other with spins and twirls at speeds that would have made you dizzy if you’d been the one executing them.

Doyoung was incredible. For having not played against other Erethulians in almost twenty years, he moved like he’d been playing like this for his whole life. You felt yourself get a little light-headed at the absolute concentration in his features, the hard set of his brow and clench of his jaw as he effortlessly ducked around another Erethulian, passed the puck to Jaewoon, then received it back to score in a single smooth shot. Yeah, you knew your boyfriend was hot, but seeing him like this was truly something else. A religious experience, one might say.

As the teams moved to reset their positions, you saw a single drop of sweat roll from Doyoung’s temple to chin, and nearly passed out. Then he caught your gaze, sharp eyes softening for that moment as you fumbled to give him a shaky thumbs-up.

You half expected a teasing remark from Minhee, but then you saw Jaewoon shoot her a wave and a wink and knew that the two of you were in pretty much the same boat. Except you were actually dating your hot athletic love interest, she wasn’t. If you were a lesser person you would be scheming about it, but you weren’t Na Jaemin. That didn’t mean you couldn’t absentmindedly ruminate on it while you watched the rest of the game, though.

At the conclusion of the game, Doyoung’s team had won, and you were pleasantly surprised about the lack of injuries. Human hockey always seemed so violent, and you really didn’t want your boyfriend to get hurt. While the Erethulians around you ran onto the rink to greet their friends and family, you waited patiently on the snowy ground in front of the bleachers, not even wanting to tempt fate with the slippery ice and your lack of snow powers like the others. Doyoung ducked around some of his more excited, younger teammates before approaching you.

“You were awesome, Doyoung!” You exclaimed, still with wide, awe-struck eyes.

He wiped at his brow with the sleeve of his jersey, and you briefly wondered if clothes made of ice were able to absorb anything, but his skin did look drier after. There was a smile on his face, victorious, relieved, and elated, that you only got to see for a moment before he swooped down, and the breath was stolen from your lungs. His lips stopped just a centimeter from yours, his cool breath fanning over your mouth as he asked, “Warm?”

“Plenty,” you whispered back, almost immediately having your lips captured by his.

Your gloved hands clumsily grabbed at the back of his head to pull him closer and give yourself something to anchor onto. The kiss didn’t last for too long, but in those few moments you were almost able to forget about all the other Erethulians around you.

⤷ prev. ⤷ next ⤷ masterlist

#s: ayakashi #a: snowflake #a: doyoung #doyoung #kim doyoung #nct #nct 127 #doyoung imagine #doyoung imagines #nct imagine #nct imagines #nct 127 imagine #nct 127 imagines #text #mine #writing #ge: fluff

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kats-comfort-corner · 3 years ago

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Self Insert Ask Game: Haiji

I have decided I'm going to answer ask game questions because I want to draw more about Haiji, so enjoy!

No one asked for this but it shall be nonetheless

From @inserthaven’s Self Insert Lore Ask Game!

1. What are the basics of your self insert? Name, date of birth, height, etc.?

Name: Haiji (prev. Haine)

Nickname: Hai

Pronouns: They/Them

Birthday: 05/08

Part I

Age: 11-12

Height: 150-153 cm

Part II

Age: 14-16

Height: 171-174 cm

Blank Period

Age: 17-19

Height: 176-177 cm

Hai’s Story

Age: 24-27

Height: 179 cm

2. When in canon does your self insert come in? Do you have a scene in mind for your entrance?

I don’t have a scene in mind in particular, aside from what I have written in a universe-adjacent fanfiction I’m writing (at the same time I’m writing their main story...I don’t know why I do this).

But they were moved around a lot and didn’t really get to spend time with other kids. They were in Konoha on and off, but never really planted any roots. Kinda got dragged around the continent at the whims of their parents.

Around when they turn 13, they get pulled into Anbu work. It’s not, like. Direct work at first. Because they are too young and inexperienced for it. They primarily help with mid- to long-distance reconaissance and information gathering using Sensory techniques they developed both on their own as a kid and with their teacher over the last few years. It’s also a way for the village authorities to monitor them constantly.

A lot of things happen, but eventually their siblings - who were left at the orphanage by their parents before some wild stuff went down - ask them to actually stay in one place and spend time with them. So, around when they turn 24, they settle down in a rundown cabin on the outskirts of the village near the Forest of Death. Near it, not in it. They just wanted to be close enough to be able to forage relatively easily and to have enough space to grow a garden, etc.

3. How do other characters generally feel about your self insert?

Weird, lol.

But mostly in a “can’t seem to pick up on basic social cues and speaks very bluntly and overexplains often” kind of way. You know, because of the neurodivergence. And also just not really getting to interact with many of their peers when they were growing up.

But they also just go around and help people with stuff throughout the day, and if someone needs fresh herbs or some kind of baked item with healing properties, they’ll do what they can to provide, no questions or compensation asked.

They just also expect people to respect when they say “no”.

4. Would you be considered a main character, side character, villain, or something else?

Thinkin’ the Rock Lee treatment, know what I mean?

5. Does your self insert have any special powers or abilities?

Yes, but they aren’t particularly thrilled about them.

Their family initially settled in Yugakure, arriving by boat from an island that their parents, particularly their mom, never really wanted to talk about. It was just them, their mom, dad, and sister at the time. They had to move because of some threat that, again, their parents wouldn’t talk to them about.

Eventually, they learned that their mom is from somewhere completely different from the continent their on now. A place with fairies and forest spirits and what people seem to dismissively call “magic” - even though it’s pretty similar to how chakra and energy flow function. So, they had to learn how to use their abilities slightly differently. They have a natural affinity for most sensory-related skills, like recognizing someone’s energy, analyzing a technique’s energetic components, and reading their emotional state. Their abilities can sometimes bring to mind the dōjutsu of the Chinoike clan, but they haven’t pursued any attempts to activate and investigate that possibility, so they wouldn’t claim to have it.

One of those differences is that they have the ability to shapeshift at will. It’s not something they utilize very often, mostly because they don’t see the need to and it messes with their sense of perception and reality to do so. When they get emotionally charged, though, they kind of...Well, it used to be an issue, but their teacher helped them develop some coping mechanisms.

It’s probably fine.

Wouldn’t worry about it.

6. Does your self insert have any pets?

They prefer to call animal housemates “companions”. And yes!

Permanent house resident pictured above is Ginger! Have you read Clifford the Big Red Dog? Her situation was kind of like that, where Hai found her and took care of her since she was a tiny noodle. They gave her so much love that now she’s a 7 foot long python that wouldn’t hurt a fly.

She’ll eat a rat, though.

She’s still a snake.

That’s all I have the energy for for now! Might do some more later at some point. c: This was fun! Highly recommend answering these asks games of your own accord if you just feel inspired and...want to, lol.

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volperion-moved · 4 years ago

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okay i had a nap heeeere's what i didn't like about the NY special, some of it is stuff covered by other people but whatevs ykno

so like I said before, I feel like the ways marinette and adrien were interacting physically, mostly at the start of the special, were weirdly sexual, not appropriate for their ages. if they're supposed to be a little older here, it doesn't look like it from their character models. watching them fall into each other in different ways would be fine in a romcom with adult actors but these guys are still young teenagers so I just found it really uncomfortable.

I actually really hated alya in this special. i hate that she wasn't given a subplot of her own, neither was nino, she just obsessed over adrien and marinette the whole time. she brings the teen ny heroes into it, because why should and nonwhite characters get to stand on their own instead of being obsessed with these two?

the villain, and the entire plot around them, I barely even remember it because the show introduced this guy in the laziest way - literally having alya say "hey, look, it's ny's tech-themed villain!' - and his character and story gets drowned out by the lovesquare drama.

basically, this special has a ton of stuff happen that I can't even keep up with because it isn't given room to breathe or be explored properly, because the lovesquare drama takes up the majority of the show. it's a little frustrating in the normal episodes, BUT I have had a bit of understanding since it is the main plot, even though I find most of the side plots a lot more interesting. here this special takes that idea and cranks it up to the max, it's like all of the main series comes with a bit of frustration while this special takes all three seasons of frustration and injects it directly into you, kicks you in the face and gives you lesbians at the very end so you should be grateful, dammit. I'm not done yet but yeah that's what's really annoying about the whole thing

chloe gets a kind of subplot where she doesn't want to go to new york, she's forced to go anyway, and she's just upset the whole time with no resolution? that's really annoying lol?? sabrina at one point ditches her to hang out with the others at a party, blushing at this random guy who shows up to take her to it, and it's like? good for her but this is out of character, there wasn't any buildup for her undying loyalty to chloe to be undone like this?? what was the point of bringing chloe to new york? if they wanted to have sabrina get development like this, it would have made a lot more sense if she was the one forced to go and was obsessively checking her phone to help chloe, and then this guy helps her set it aside so she can have fun at the party idk.

kagami and adrien kiss on the lips at the start of the episode, like that's just a thing they're doing now, which makes all of this lovesquare stuff cheating, doesn't it?? that leaves a bad taste in my mouth

new york has a "superhero for everything" which is a really interesting concept that they really don't use. the idea that this is a city overpopulated by heroes could have been really cool if they actually involved the fact that marinette is the guardian of the miraculous now and needs to decide who to make into superheroes, she could be looking at all these heroes and consider why they're fit for the job etc.? she could get bummed out over how she needs to retire a bunch of the heroes because their identities got revealed to hawkmoth in the finale?? but no it's just this weird thing that new york has been like sky high this entire time. i HATE that the fact that these heroes don't even need secret identities is just casually stated as well, because it invalidates all of the annoying drama we've had to sit through about how chloe is terrible and irresponsible for not having a secret identity as queen bee, and how adrien and marinette can't know each others secret identities.

chat noir literally kills someone and the narrative focuses on his man pain and has ladybug have to be the one to apologise to him. people have covered this in other posts but yeah, it fucking sucks

there's so much new lore thrown at this special that i dont even remember all of it and some of it contradicts prev. canon but yknow. it's not the priority lol it's marinette and adrien's romance!! i thought teen titans trouble in tokyo was bad for having it's romance overshadow things but at least the other characters had their own subplots and it didn't try to introduce a billion new lore elements to the story

and finallyy, at the end of the episode we get a superhero team with two moms. that's really nice and all, but i can't help feeling like it's a slap in the face. these characters dont properly get their stories explored, it's all so hamfisted. personally i really hate this kind of representation where it feels like it's just thrown in at the last second and it's really ambiguous. all the power to you if you feel empowered by it but i just feel like ive been thrown table scraps and told it's a meal considering how heteronormative this show is.

also-- the lovesquare stuff, that took up so much of the episode, barely even feels resolved by the end of it?? i dont know if i was so confused by this point i missed it but they're just back to where they started i think..?????

it genuinely exceeded by expectations on how bad it was going to be and i already knew i was in for adrien man pain and some racism because i read other posts about it. it was the most frustrating experience, i didnt know i could get this mad over a cartoon i already KNEW was going to be bad vkehvkbekcuejbckhem

#miraculous new york spoilers #ml salt #long post #its like astruc read my blog and was like 'oh you dont like chat blanc? thats cute.'

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theriverpersonshadow · 4 years ago

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Lamia Drama Part 5

It’s ya boi Oozy. Apparently my brain deeply desires to touch on some potentially uncomfortable subjects today. Warnings for a completely made up medical condition - that is NOT meant to depict anything irl and any similarity to such is completely unintentional on my part - being treated with some seriousness as a chronic condition that does impact Oozy’s life.

Also skirts the line a bit between Corny laziness, general Sansitude, and feelings of guilt and depression. And touch starvation. But thankfully the snake DOES get pet in this and he ends the chapter happy ^u^

The Corny species of lamia belongs to @vex-bittys

< PREV | BEGINNING | NEXT >

Oozy was laying in his hammock, a thing patched together from whatever they make raincoats from, as almost always. He could get down, but then someone would have to deal with the mess. Besides, one of the staff had gotten him a waterproof phone long ago. The hammock was coated in a layer of slime… as was he. As always. Most people found it gross, but he’d been born with it.

Despite what some might think, snakes aren’t slimy… usually. He was a rare exception to that. No one could figure out why, it wasn’t anything wrong with him physically… So far as they could tell his soul just thought he was an amphibian or something. Maybe he should join the Kraits, but they didn’t seem overly fond of his weird magic-mucus either (not that they’d ever say it). Heh. But for real, the best theory anyone had was either that he did have some kind of amphibian magic-gene that wasn’t working right, or that for some reason his soul couldn’t process magic quite right, making a sort of buildup of inert magical sludge. Possibly both. So yeah, he was a slimy boy.

If he showered more often it’d probably be manageable, but then some worker would have to clean up after him on the way to the shower and they’d have to rinse the hammock off too or else there’d be little point in showering in the first place, and if he was taking two or three showers a day, when would anyone else? Plus that’s just a lot of showers. Nah, it’s easier for everyone to just not. Or maybe those are just excuses, but hey, he’s a lazybones, born and bred.

Oozy sits there in a half-daze, only partly awake as his hammock slowly sways. There was a podcast going on in his ears but he was only half-listening. Somehow he’d gotten from DnD advice to doctors? More likely he just hit a button by accident. Regardless of how he got here, her voice is soothing, even if he probably doesn’t need to know much about orthopedics. It’s enough to make him want to nap…

Until footsteps come by. He waits for them to pass, but they don’t. He peaks an eye open to see a girl pacing back and forth, occasionally stealing glances at the nursery. Looks like they’ve got a new volunteer. Well, he should introduce himself then.

“Yo, sup,” Oozy says. He stretches his arms and neck, joints popping, and pushes his upper body up onto the fake-trees holding his hammock up so he can get a better view of her. His nose flicks and he impulsively says, “Ya smell like dirt.”

“Hmm? Oh, yeah, I work in a greenhouse.” Dear lord she was loud. Not upset or yelling or anything, but she could rival a full grown Papython.

“Ah, they bring you in to get us more real plants or something? I don’t know if they can have indoor trees though.”

“Probably not. Most trees aren’t really shade-plants anyways, and even if they were, they can’t grow strong enough without wind.”

“Really? Huh, weird. But I’ll take your word for it,” Oozy says. He removes a little more of himself from the slimy confines of his hammock, draping himself over the tree and leaning his upper body down so he’s closer to her level. “So, why are you here then? Looking to adopt? I think you’ve gone too far then.” There weren’t many to adopt this far back. There wasn’t officially a “permanent residency” ward or anything, and theoretically anyone could get adopted, but let’s face it, they weren’t going to. They were hidden in the back for a reason, you’d have to be looking for a special case to even reach him.

“I heard there’s DnD.”

Oozy blinks a few times, then chuckles, “Well alright then!” Not the answer he expected, but okay. “They advertising it now?”

“I mean, apparently yeah! Though in retrospect, I think you were expected to come with a lamia…” The girl looked down,

Oozy shrugged, “Maybe. They have community events now and then and stuff.” Or maybe they were trying to get some of them out of there. No reason it couldn’t be both.

The girl nodded. “So, uh… I followed someone, they had gold teeth? The DM. Then one of the cobra ones wanted me to leave, and, uh… Should I go?”

Keith had taken her to the nursery, hadn’t he? “Nah, Keith just did something dumb. Whatcha thinking of playing?” He was curious how she was going to be worked in. They pretty well had their bases covered already. Red was the Tank and melee fighter, Trousle was the party face, Nikolai had healing and support covered, Liam was the other party face who really liked fireballs (freaking sorcerers), and… Well, Oozy himself was mostly just there to goof around. He’d made a ranger and had an Giant Owl (maybe not on the list, but Keith was nice enough to give him an upgrade since rangers were kinda bad in 5e) as his animal companion. The “hoo” jokes flew left and right! What could he say, him and his Giant Owl, Hoodini, were birds of a feather.

“I mean, I figured I’d see what you guys already have? Warlocks are one of my favorites – patrons are basically built in lore – but Druids are a mood and Martials can be fun too. Sometimes you just wanna smash stuff with a big hammer, y’know?”

“Mood.” Oozy said. “Well, we could probably use another full martial, but ask Hux, that’s sorta his thing, y’know?”

The girl nodded. “Sounds good.”

“Heh, yeah. Name’s Oozy by the way. Who are you?”

“Alex.”

“Nice to meet ya Alex. I’d shake your hand, but, well…” He held his hands up, shrugging. A drop of slime hit the floor.

“Are you okay by the way? You’re kinda…” She made a vague hand motion, squirming in place.

“Eh, I live with it. Called Oozy for a reason, y’know?” Oozy said.

“… can I touch it? Or you? Both?”

Oozy blinked a few times, surprised. “Uh… sure? If ya want?” He crawled a little further down, looping around the tree to keep himself stable. The girl’s hand reached out and touched his head. It was rather nice, actually. He found himself leaning into it, the gentle strokes feeling warm and tingly despite her hands being cold. Might as well enjoy it while it lasts, right? His tail relaxes some as he sinks into the feeling, eyes shutting.

…

Well, if she wants to keep petting him, he’s not going to stop her. This feels great. Hopefully she’s not just trying to be nice, but she seems pretty wrapped up in it herself, running her fingers through the layer of goo that had built up and down to the bone below. Oozy was vaguely aware that he was dripping all over the floor (and probably on her shoes, but they were caked in dirt and scuffs anyways), but y’know what, it was someone else’s problem. He started to reach out instinctively, wanting to wrap around her and cuddle, but she drew back.

“Uh… sorry. I don’t really like my clothes getting wet… It’s really uncomfortable.”

Something in him deflated, soul feeling heavy, but he put on a lax smile and nodded, “Eh, don’t worry about it.” Just keep petting him, please…

“It’s alright. Heh, it feels kinda cool, y’know? Maybe not exactly like slime, but, like… It’s fun to play with.” Pause. “That’s a weird thing to say, huh?”

Oozy snorted, “A little, but I ain’t gonna complain.”

“Can I…?” She pointed to his tail.

“Go for it.”

Her fingers stroked down the length of his scales and he shuddered. It didn’t feel bad or sexual or anything, but it’d been a while since anyone had stroked him. Dear lord how did he go so long without this? He wanted nothing more than to wrap around her in a full body cuddle, to just run fingers through her hair and vice versa, to just get any kind of physical contact from someone. He was starving for it. Tears sprung to his eyesockets but he blinked them away before she could see. It was just so nice…

“Thank ya,” he whispered, voice coming out choked.

“Are you alright?”

“Yeah… Yeah.” His soul felt a little lighter and he smiled in earnest, “Heh, feels good to get some of this off me.” Maybe he should take a shower today… The floor was a mess anyways after all. But it’s fine, it’s tile. It’d mop up. “Thanks.”

“No problem. I think you feel cool.”

“I mean, I am a reptile.” He snorted at himself, finally just saying fuck it and crawling down to sprawl on the floor like a limp, happy noodle. “I mean, probably.” There was a slight chance he was an amphibian after all.

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ft-dads-au · 5 years ago

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Once Upon A Nightmare - Chapter 5

Shadowlight Week 2020 Pairing(s): Sting x Rogue, Orga x Rufus Prompt: Free (Rain)

A Collaboration by @mdelpin and @oryu404

AO3 | Prev: Ch 4

Summary: Rogue does his best to get better, but setbacks have him losing his confidence. A night out with some friends gives him hope that things are improving, but when he tries to act on his feelings, it's too much, too fast. Frustrated with his progress, he makes an important decision.

Chapter 5: Rain

July 10, 2014

The following weeks were difficult for Rogue, full of successes but also setbacks. Overall he had kept to his promise to take better care of himself, even though there were some days when it was a fight just to get out of bed.

But the nightmares kept coming no matter what he did to try to tire himself out, and every time he had one, it took every bit of willpower he possessed not to fall apart all over again. It was so frustrating to fight the same battle day after day. To have to force himself to perform simple tasks when he knew that he’d be paying the price for the victory of success with his energy.

And yet, no matter how hard he fought, it never seemed to be enough. Just one bad day could easily outweigh all the good ones that preceded it, and what progress did he have to be proud of anyway? He felt like he was going nowhere fast, running himself ragged but barely moving forward.

In contrast, Sting seemed to be doing better every day, miles ahead, out of reach. It was hard not to feel resentment sometimes. Even though Rogue was well aware it was only his own stubbornness that kept him from experiencing the same.

He did appreciate that Sting had given him room to handle things his own way, only really giving him a hard time if he wasn’t eating. Merely knowing that there wasn’t any pressure put on him returned a sense of control, something he’d lost in so many ways already, but that did nothing to exempt him from the pressure he was putting on himself.

Sting had always been the brighter one between the two of them, facing the world with his chin held high, and his teeth bared in a blinding smile, never letting any hardships bring him down for long. Out of the many reasons why Rogue had fallen for him, this was perhaps the biggest one. Their attitudes used to balance each other out, but now that Sting was so close to being himself again, the difference between them was merely a harsh reminder of reality. He seemed unbreakable, while Rogue had no choice but to admit what he’d wanted to deny all this time- he was broken.

And broken things that couldn’t be fixed would eventually be replaced.

That thought was the whip on his back. No amount of well-meant compliments or I love yous were able to convince him that that wasn’t happening.

No matter what, he had to keep trying, so he forced himself to get out of bed despite his crippling exhaustion and made himself as presentable as he could before leaving the bedroom.

He paused in the doorway, noticing that Sting was talking to someone on the phone.

“A concert? I don’t know, I don’t think Rogue would be up for it. Maybe we can get together another time,” Rogue could hear the disappointment in Sting’s voice, and it was enough for him to completely ignore the little voice that was trying to tell him Sting was probably right.

He waltzed into the room and asked in as even a voice as he could manage, “What wouldn’t I be up for?”

“Oh, hey,” Sting smiled at him in greeting, but Rogue could tell he seemed uncomfortable, and he couldn’t help but wonder just how many invitations Sting had already said no to because of him.

“Uhm, Orga wants us to meet his new boyfriend,” Sting explained, “They’re having a picnic at the park tonight, you know, one of those free concert things.”

“That sounds great, let’s go,” Rogue did his best to sound enthused, but even he could hear how shaky his voice sounded.

“I don’t know,” Sting hedged, putting on a smile that didn’t fool Rogue one bit. “Are you sure? I was kind of looking forward to watching more of that anime we started last night.”

Rogue glared defiantly, knowing this was Sting's attempt at giving him an out, and while he appreciated it, he was no less determined to go. Sting finally looked away with a worried frown, but to his credit, he didn’t argue. Instead, he turned back to his phone, “Okay, we’ll be there. What time should we meet you guys?”

As Sting continued to talk for a few more minutes, getting the details for their outing Rogue tried to quell the doubts that immediately followed now that the outing was a done deal. It was no big deal, they were going to go have a nice night out with friends. The type of thing they should have been doing all along. That they used to do all the time.

And despite how loud and obnoxious he could be, Rogue liked Orga. He’d always been a good friend to Sting, and they’d had fun when he came over. They'd even hung out a few times after Sting had left, bonded in their love of music while missing the same person. He was one of the many people Rogue had avoided or lost touch with after the attack.

He left the room, searching for his cigarettes and heading for the backyard, trying not to think about how many people would be at the park. Or the guitar that was stored in Cana’s old room, along with all the other things his family had discarded but couldn’t bear to get rid of.

How long had it been since he’d put it there? Had he even touched it again since Gajeel had dropped it off?

He lit his cigarette before he could think of the answer. A few moments later, he heard the sliding door open behind him and turned to see Sting step onto the deck, a glass of orange juice in his hand.

Rogue tensed in wait, expecting him to say something about his decision to go out that evening, but Sting only gave him a quick once over before sitting on one of the chairs.

“Can’t believe Orga found someone that actually agreed to date him,” Sting grinned, “ Not gonna lie, I’m pretty curious.”

Rogue snorted in agreement. “Remember the last one?”

“Actually, there was another one after that guy, equally disastrous.” Sting informed him, “He called me last Spring to tell me about it. You know how he is -”

“Go big or go home,” they chorused, trying to imitate Orga’s booming voice, and realizing Sting wasn’t going to say anything, Rogue relaxed, taking a seat next to him.

“Should we bring something?” he asked.

“Orga said Rufus, that’s the guy’s name, was gonna take care of everything, but maybe we could bring a bottle of wine or something?”

“We could stop at the liquor store on the way there, pick up a couple of bottles,” Rogue suggested, and now that he wasn’t worried about Sting’s reaction, he began to feel a small surge of excitement and pride.

He was moving outside his comfort zone, trying to go do something with friends as a couple, and it went well, it could be the beginning of better things.

“I’d have been fine with staying home, you know,” Sting’s voice broke into his thoughts, bringing him back down to reality.

“I’m tired of holing up at home,” Rogue said stiffly.

“Okay,” Sting said softly, grabbing Rogue’s hand and kissing his knuckles gently, “We’ll have fun.”

0-0

By the time they arrived at the park, it was already seven o’clock. Their arms were full of bags from both the liquor store and the bakery, Sting’s sweet tooth as insatiable as always. When they had walked past it, he hadn’t been able to resist the temptation to bring a few dozen treats, just in case Rufus hadn’t packed enough desserts.

Even though the music wasn’t scheduled to begin for another hour, there was very little available space left on the grassy areas. Couples, families, and groups of friends sat on blankets, talking, cuddling, or playing games. Young children ran around with sparklers, but Sting’s attention was fixed on the food carts that were lined up near the stage.

Rogue chuckled, seeing the childish anticipation in his boyfriend’s eyes, “We’re supposed to be having a picnic, remember?”

Sting pouted briefly but immediately smiled, leaning his head on Rogue’s shoulder in a sort of head hug.

“Alright, how hard can it be to find a green-haired giant in this mess?”

Rogue shrugged helplessly, trying not to focus on how many people there were and how hard it was to move around, or on the images that his mind was determined to show him, of how this park had looked on a particular rainy day.

He could feel sweat that had nothing to do with the temperature dripping down his neck as they searched, and he knew he should ask to go home or at the very least stop for a moment, but before Rogue could do either of those things he felt something hard slam into him.

It wrapped himself around him and picked him up in the air, spinning him. His breathing sped up, and a scream lodged in his throat until Rogue heard Sting yelling.

“Damn it, Orga, put him down for fuck’s sake!”

The urgency in his voice was unmistakable, and Rogue was soon placed back down on the ground gently.

Orga stood before him, looking contrite. “I’m sorry, Rogue, I didn’t know you spooked so easy. I was just happy to see you.”

“It’s alright,” he managed through closed eyes and clenched teeth. Everything seemed too loud, but he was determined to stay. It had been an unexpected scare, but it was just Orga. He was safe, and honestly, he should have expected it.

“Are you alright?” The voice was unfamiliar, but the tone was kind, and he opened his eyes slowly, curious as to who it belonged to.

A man stood in front of him, holding a humongous basket which he shoved at Orga, “Carry that.”

He was fair-skinned with long blond hair that was tied back in a low ponytail, his green eyes peering at Orga fondly before turning back to Rogue, “He means well, but he’s an idiot.”

Rogue snorted at the comment.

The man smiled at Rogue’s response and introduced himself, “I’m Rufus Lore.”

“Hey!” Orga complained, looking to Sting for support, seeming surprised when Sting appeared to be watching Rogue intently.

Rogue ignored Orga as well, not wanting him to see how his greeting had affected him. He attempted a smile and managed it even if it was a bit forced. “Rogue Fullbuster.”

“Happy to make your acquaintance,” Rufus bowed his head in what his mother would have called old world charm, and they began to walk behind their boyfriends.

“Uhm, same.”

Although Rufus was incredibly handsome, Rogue was surprised Orga would be interested in someone who was clearly so different from him.

“Have you known Orga long?” Rogue couldn’t help but ask, smiling when Rufus only chuckled.

“I know, we don’t seem like we’d make a good match, but there’s something about him that intrigued me. Even though he was incredibly persistent, I finally realized if I kept saying no to his advances, he would eventually stop asking me out. The thought made me kind of sad, so I figured, what did I have to lose by giving him a chance?”

“He’s a good guy and a great friend.”

“Yes, he is,” Rufus agreed, “He thinks very highly of your boyfriend and of you as well. It made me a little nervous about meeting you, actually.”

“No need to be nervous, I’m more concerned about whether you’ll still want to date him after seeing him with my idiot. Do you go to MU?”

“I did, I graduated last year. I actually work as a research assistant in the building where Orga works as a security guard.”

“Let me guess, he took all his breaks near you, serenading you while flexing his muscles.”

Rufus' laugh was melodious and very contagious, “Something like that. Subtlety isn’t exactly his strongest suit.”

“Are you talking about me, Babe?” Orga slowed down, waiting for them to catch up, and Rogue searched his face to see if Sting had told him anything but didn’t see any change from Orga’s usual expression.

“Of course,” Rufus winked, and they both stopped for a quick kiss. It was adorable, and Rogue felt a pang, remembering a time when that had been him and Sting.

He looked towards his boyfriend, not wanting to openly stare at the couple, and they shared a shy smile.

“Do you have any idea where we’re going to sit? This place is packed.” Sting complained.

“Relax. Dobengal saved us a spot, he’s been here for hours,” Orga declared smugly.

“Dobengal?” Sting groaned, “You didn’t tell me he was coming.”

“Well, duh, then you wouldn’t have come,” Orga pointed out, “You’re already coming up with lame excuses all the time. I was beginning to think you didn’t want to be friends anymore.”

“Hey, isn’t that him over there?” Sting hurried, and Orga chased after him yelling, “Hey, slow down, this basket is heavy!”

“And they’re off,” Rufus chuckled. “So, Orga tells me you’re a writer. I’ve tried my hand at it, but I have to admit I prefer reading.”

“Oh, really? What kinds of books do you like?” Rogue asked, delighted to find some common ground. They continued to talk about their favorite books and authors until they finally found the spot Dobengal had been holding for them.

It was a great location, close enough to the stage to be able to see everything, but far enough away to not be overwhelmed by the massive speakers. Orga had already stretched out the large blanket Rufus had packed on the grass. Both he and Sting were stuffing their faces with the pastries Sting had brought, keeping them away from Dobengal, who was whining childishly and lunging at them.

“There they are. Our lovers,” Rufus remarked loudly, his voice full of barely concealed sarcasm, “Aren’t we lucky?”

Rogue couldn’t help but snort at the embarrassed looks on all three men, although Orga recovered quite nicely, a mischievous grin curling on his lips. “You know you love me, at least that’s what you were yelling last night when-”

“Don’t you dare finish that sentence Orga Nanagear,” Rufus threatened, but Orga only laughed.

“Fine, I’ll behave. For now,” Orga disentangled himself from his two ex-roommates and walked over to Rufus, leaning in to whisper something in his ear that made Rufus blush and swat the larger man away. Still, Rogue could see something akin to anticipation in Rufus' expression.

It was a look he had seen on Sting often, but not lately. He left them to have their moment and walked over to the blanket, handing Sting the wine bottles he’d been carrying before sitting down.

“Did you leave me any?” he teased, noticing the crumbs that were littered all over the blanket, the only visible reminder from their battle.

“Lots,” Sting grinned proudly, offering him one of the bags. On impulse, Rogue leaned into Sting and kissed him, grabbing the bag and handing it to Dobengal as he did so.

“Thanks, Rogue!” Dobengal cheered, opening the bag and digging in.

“That was a dirty trick,” Sting murmured, eyes crinkling in amusement.

“So’s ganging up on Dobengal, I thought you two had outgrown that,” Rogue chided as Dobengal tossed him a pastry.

He bit into it, moaning at the taste, and when he looked up, he noticed Sting gazing at his mouth.

“You’ve got a little something there,” Sting leaned in, lips moving ever closer and Rogue didn’t wait, he leaned in as well, meeting Sting halfway, feeling the soft brush of Sting’s lips on his and sucking on them.

Sting’s hands moved to Rogue’s head, tugging at his hair with long fingers, their kiss deepening as weeks of pent up need rose to the surface.

“Geez, get a room you guys,” Dobengal whined, “Have a heart will ya, I can’t fucking look anywhere without being reminded I’m alone again.”

Rogue felt that kiss flow through his entire body, awakening a desire that had been lying dormant for so long, and the last thing he wanted at that moment was to be at the park surrounded by people. He wanted to go home to continue what they had started, but that would be rude, and looking at the vast amounts of food packed into the basket, he could see Rufus had put a lot of work into it.

Sting didn’t seem much better, and when Rogue whispered To be continued, he looked just as impatient as Rogue felt.

“You guys brought wine, that’s great!” Orga commented, grabbing a bottle and looking at it, “I hope you also brought an opener cause these do not twist off.”

Sting and Rogue looked at each other in consternation, neither one of them had thought of that.

“Don’t look so glum, this basket came with one,” Rufus announced, unclipping the device from the lid amidst cheers from the others. “You guys sure brought a lot of bottles with you.”

“It was on sale,” Sting admitted, adding cheerfully, “We did bring cups though!”

Rufus set about opening the first bottle, which was quickly divided between the five men, immediately followed by three others. Dobengal sat next to Orga, having given up his space to a group of his friends from the University.

They were already pleasantly buzzed when Rufus began pulling out wrapped sandwiches from his basket, followed by some trays filled with raw vegetables and fresh fruit cut up into bite-sized pieces. Another dish contained cheese and crackers, which were devoured almost as soon as they touched the ground, giving him no chance to distribute the cutlery and napkins he’d brought.

Rogue felt kind of bad, the man had obviously put a lot of work into the presentation, and it was utterly wasted on them, but as much as he wanted to say something nice, he was too busy digging in at the same pace as the others. Both he and Dobengal had learned from experience that you couldn’t fool around when it came to Sting and Orga and food.

“This is delicious,” Rogue managed in between bites.

“How can you tell?” Rufus asked, peering at all of them in horror.

Sting looked embarrassed, and Rogue snickered, knowing his boyfriend was likely hearing his parents yell at him in his head, “Thank you so much, this is all really good.” Sting said politely, having the grace to wipe his mouth with his hand before elbowing Orga.

“Oh yeah, Babe, it’s great!” Orga mumbled while opening another bottle and pouring some into everyone’s cups. “The wine is great too. This whole thing is…. great!”

Sting shook his head at Orga, moving away from him to sit behind Rogue and whispering, “He’s so not getting laid tonight.”

Rogue giggled, the words but you might flitting through his mind before he could stop them, although thankfully, he didn’t say them out loud. He drank the rest of his wine, and when Sting wrapped himself around him, surrounding him in a cocoon of warmth and that cologne he always wore, he was overwhelmed with need.

Fuck the concert, he wanted to go home and well … fuck.

Maybe.

Definitely.

His thoughts blurred more and more as his senses became overloaded, and all there was was Sting. His head resting on Rogue’s shoulder, his arms wrapped around his middle, his legs on either side of him. Rogue felt Sting's breath, slightly heavier than usual, tickling just below his ear, his cock coming to life between them, pressing into his back and letting him know he wasn’t the only one affected.

“How long do you think we need to stay?” Rogue asked Sting in what he thought was a quiet voice, but from the amused looks he was getting from the others, it seemed it might have been louder than he thought.

“Oh my God, you two haven’t changed one bit,” Orga exclaimed, rolling his eyes at them, “No wonder Sting never wants to go anywhere, I wouldn’t either. Go, get out of here, we’ll get together another time.”

Rogue expected Sting to protest, but instead, he’d already gotten up and was grabbing him by the hand, tugging gently.

“It was great to see everyone, uhm bye,” Rogue tried his best to be polite, but all he could think of was getting home.

They left quickly, and as they reached the entrance, the park lights went out, replaced by the stage lights, signaling the beginning of the performance. The music soon began, but neither of them even stopped to peek, both intent on reaching home as quickly as possible.

0-0

They stumbled through the front door, hanging on to each other, breathless from walking so fast and locking lips the second Rogue had stopped to get his key. What little of a shirt Sting was wearing still managed to offend Rogue, and he nearly ripped it in his hurried attempt of getting it off.

"What was in that wine?" Sting chuckled as he raised his arms above his head to allow his top to be pulled over his head easier.

"Don't know, don't care," Rogue shrugged, wasting no time in attacking the newly exposed skin with his mouth.

The force behind the action caused him to tilt forward a bit too quickly. The combined rush of alcohol and his almost feral arousal made everything around Rogue spin for a few seconds before they bumped into something, tipping them over until he had Sting pinned against the hallway closet. He couldn’t say he minded.

A loud crash echoed through the room, the sound of wood hitting the floor and shattering ceramics prompting them to stop and look at the damage. The end table that had held one of his mother's plants had been knocked over, leaving the floor covered in dirt and shattered pieces of pottery.

Sting observed the mess with a sheepish smile. "How is it that we're always this destructive?" he laughed, the sound blending into a moan when Rogue ground against him and sucked a love bite into his neck.

Rogue snorted, he'd never liked that plant anyway, and even if he did, he was too caught up in the way Sting made him feel. The last time they'd done anything more than innocently kissing and cuddling had been in the first week after Sting had arrived, but it felt like so much longer. And even then, Rogue had lacked the eagerness he'd had before Sting left and during his Christmas visit to Edolas, the same one he had now.

He didn't answer the question, too lost in the sounds he was able to coax from Sting, wanting to hear them more, louder.

They somehow made it to the bedroom without causing any more damage, ditching Rogue's shirt along the way. As they fell onto the mattress, the sensation of falling lasted longer than it should have, making Rogue's head spin once again, but he ignored the little voice at the back of his mind that reminded him of how much he'd had to drink.

Sting, however, seemed more concerned about it. He slowed them down to ask, "Hey, are you sure this is okay?" He cupped Rogue's cheeks, a trace of worry shining in his eyes, the beautiful blue just a thin circle outlining his blown pupils.

"Yeah," Rogue kissed him again, unbuttoning his jeans and kicking them off the bed. "Fuck, I want you…"

It wasn’t enough, not when Sting’ s body was still half covered. With a grunt of frustration, his hands moved to the offending button that was keeping him from what he wanted. He could feel Sting’s eyes on him, but he didn’t want to meet them just yet. Instead, he continued to fumble until he got it open.

Feeling victorious, he lowered the zipper, and when Sting didn’t lift his hips right away to help, he pouted. Not to be deterred, he moved the metallic teeth out of the way giving him access to Sting’s underwear.

With a wicked grin, he grabbed the waistband with his teeth, tugging at it until Sting relented, lifting his hips slowly.

Rogue let go gazing at Sting and purring, “Good boy,” before pulling his pants down slowly, eyes never leaving his boyfriends until they were entirely off. For once, he felt very much in control, and that was almost as intoxicating as the wine.

He noticed Sting gulp as he watched him, and the responsive twitch in his tented underwear. God Sting was beautiful, especially when he was like this. Rogue traced a path up Sting’s leg with his finger, moving ever so slowly, enjoying how Sting was trying so hard to stay still for him, even though it was obvious that he wanted to touch.

When he got as high up as his thighs, he started adding soft puffs of warm air, which made Sting squirm. Rogue licked his lips in anticipation at seeing the wet spot on Sting’s underwear, once again keeping their eyes locked as he continued to trail his finger up until he could trace the outline of Sting’s cock, giving him the barest of touches.

Sting’s wanton moan made him pause a moment, the sound the only music he ever wanted to hear. And when Sting called out for him, he moved the underwear out of the way to blow against the flushed skin of the head of his cock, just short of pressing a kiss on top of it.

"Roooogue," Sting whined again, trying to laugh off his frustration. Rogue smiled back at him innocently until he couldn't smile anymore, his lips wrapping around Sting's cock, taking him in slowly, inch by torturous inch.

He watched transfixed, following every sign of satisfaction that graced Sting's face, feeling more turned on by the second by the effects his efforts were having. Like the rest of his personality, Sting wasn't the timid type, and Rogue knew him well enough to know how to get the reactions he wanted.

But as much as he liked teasing, his patience was running thin. He'd been hard since they'd been at the park, and though he'd been distracted by dirty thoughts, now he was aching for relief.

With that in mind, he took in as much of Sting’s cock as he could manage, moving slowly back up and giving one last hard suck before letting go. Ignoring Sting’s protests at his absence, Rogue removed his underwear. He was done with playing, and he could only snort when he saw that Sting had already removed his as well.

“You really want this, huh?” Sting’s eyes were half-lidded, his voice sultry.

Rogue paused for a moment, the words loosening something, but once again, he ignored it, too full of the vision of Sting’s gloriously naked body underneath him to pay attention to anything else.

Instead of a coherent vocal answer, he straddled Sting's hips and rubbed their cocks together, moaning low in his throat at the sensation he'd been craving. Fuck, he probably wasn't going to last long.

He closed his eyes and enjoyed the feeling building up inside him, trying his best to hold off and go slow, denying his body's persistent demand for more. Rogue felt a slight tickle as Sting ran his hand up to his thigh before wrapping it around both of them and tugging along with his rhythm, groaning at the increased friction.

Rogue was getting close, but along with the climbing tension, he could feel the panic rising within him and begged internally, please, not now.

It did nothing to calm him down, though. He broke his rhythm, feeling suddenly unable to breathe.

He opened his eyes again to reassure himself that he was safe at home with Sting, but when Rogue searched for the well-loved features, he only saw Maru grinning back at him.

See? I knew you wanted it...Doesn’t that feel good?

The feeling of having his cock jerked was already too much, but the added vision, combined with the voice in his head, was enough for him to scramble back in response. He managed to catch himself before he fell off the edge of the bed, but he still couldn’t breathe, and his hand immediately moved to his throat.

“Rogue, are you okay?” He could hear the fear in Sting’s voice, and he wanted to answer, but all he could do was wave him off.

“Just give me a minute,” Rogue pleaded.

“A minute? What just happened?” Sting had already moved off the bed, his forehead creased, and every vestige of his desire gone, replaced by a concern that pissed Rogue off.

“I said to give me a goddamn minute, “ Rogue snapped, surprising both of them.

“Please,” he amended, even though he knew it was too little too late.

No, no, no, this wasn’t how it was supposed to go!

"Okay," Sting conceded, calmly putting his boxers back on and sitting back on the bed, resting against the headboard. As if they weren't just brutally ripped out of a heated moment.

Rogue knew he was waiting for him to say or do something, and with every passing second, he grew more stressed. He felt cornered, unable to be honest about what had just happened, although he was reasonably sure Sting already knew.

A part of him just wanted Sting to make this decision for him, tell him to get a fucking grip already, but he didn't even know what he really wanted anymore. Continuing where they'd left off or even starting over was hardly an option, but so was stopping. That would only drive home everything Rogue didn't want to acknowledge.

"Hey…" Sting softly called him out of his thoughts, "don't beat yourself up over this, we can always try again another time."

There it was again, the gap between them, seeming more significant than ever. A dark abyss that would swallow Rogue whole if he dared to try to cross it.

"That's easy to say for you, isn't it?" Rogue scoffed, "Because you're not fucked up like I am?"

It flew out before he knew it, no matter how much it frightened him to feel this much anger towards Sting for no rationally explainable reason. He had given in to the darkness, and it was feeding off his turmoil.

"I didn't-"

"Oh, I'm sure you didn't! So you're just going to lie to me then?! Pretend that I'm not the cause of all of our fucking problems?!"

Whatever reaction Rogue was hoping for, he didn't get it. Sting didn't confirm nor deny his words, he didn't get angry for being yelled at when he did nothing wrong. The expression Rogue found on his face he could only guess was pity, and it managed to piss him off even more.

"Fine," Rogue got dressed again, choosing to leave before he'd say or do something worse than he already had, "Just leave me alone."

As soon as he'd slammed the door behind him, the devastation of silence and solitude hit him, making him regret every word he'd said. Needless to say, he was too stubborn to go back and apologize, so instead, he curled up on the sofa and tried to get some sleep hoping things would be clearer in the morning.

But sleep wouldn't come, even though he was exhausted from everything the day had brought. He was forced to relive the disaster he'd just caused word for word, the only respite he was given being more flashbacks from the attack. Now that the anger had ebbed away, he was able to reevaluate the situation, and it dawned on him that what he'd seen in Sting's eyes had been repressed hurt. Pity was just what his inner demons had wanted him to believe.

He'd done it again, and he was terrified that he might not be able to come back from it this time.

Rogue tried his best to breathe through it as he felt the cold sweat rising and his mouth watering, but his stomach was already feeling tense. He got up fast, getting lightheaded from the sudden movement, and he thanked his lucky stars that he knew his house like the back of his hand. He made it to the half bath just in time to bend over the toilet and violently expel everything he'd had at the picnic.

It burned, the tears in his eyes and the acid in his throat. His head was spinning again, but not in the pleasant way it had before. A sharp jabbing pain came with it, and the spots dancing in front of his eyes made him heave again.

He'd pushed himself too far today, made all the wrong choices, and now it was time to pay the price.

0-0

The alarm went off, but as soon as Sting reached for his phone on the nightstand, he recognized the sound of rain pelting the house’s aluminum siding, mirroring the throbbing in his head. He quickly decided that he wouldn’t be getting up anytime soon. While he loved the sound of rain, he didn’t particularly enjoy running in it, especially with a hangover.

Eyes still closed he stretched out his arm reaching for Rogue, hoping that despite how the night had gone, he would have returned to bed. He was disappointed to find that side of the bed was not only empty but cold.

Sting was determined not to get discouraged by the relapse. He’d noticed little changes over the last few weeks even if he hadn’t said anything, afraid that if he brought attention to them, it would make Rogue self-conscious.

He must’ve fallen back to sleep at some point because the next thing he knew, he woke up to the smell of something burning and the sound of Rogue cursing up a storm. Soon he understood why: the fire alarm started going off.

“Everything okay?” he called out, clutching his head miserably as the noise pierced through it and added to the headache he was already experiencing. Still, he was determined not to get up unless the house was actually on fire, but the sound of a chair scraping across the floor told him that wasn't likely.

“Yeah, I just- Ah, fuck, hold on!” Praise the heavens, the beeping sound stopped, only to be immediately followed by the ringing of Rogue’s cell phone.

Sting could hear his boyfriend talking to someone, and he sympathized with him deeply, especially as Rogue’s tone became more and more exasperated with every incoming call.

“Hello? No, there is no emergency, just trying to cook breakfast. What? This is Rogue Fullbuster, yes, thank you.”

Sting stretched and yawned at hearing Rogue's end of the phone call, "Cooking breakfast, huh? I'll be right there, just gotta untangle myself from the sheets... and hope my body won't stay down as my soul ascends when I try to get up.”

"Just stay put,” Rogue ordered, “I’ll come to you.”

A few minutes later, Rogue entered the room, holding a tray Sting had never seen before. It was laden with all sorts of food items, including pieces of burnt toast, even more burnt bacon, as well as some overly runny eggs.

Rogue waited for Sting to sit up before handing him the tray, which also contained a bowl of sugary cereal and some fruit along with a glass of milk.

“I’m sorry, I tried to multitask,” Rogue rubbed the back of his neck with one hand while peering down at Sting through his bangs.

“No, it looks great!” Sting was quick to reassure him, surprised that he had put so much effort into making him breakfast after the sounds he’d heard coming from the bathroom the night before.

He began picking at the fruit, not wanting to bring attention yet to what had happened. “Thank you.”

Rogue snorted, “It does not, but you’re welcome.” He left the room, returning a few minutes later with two large mugs of coffee.

“Aren’t you going to eat?” Sting asked, eyeing the eggs warily, trying to ignore the queasiness in his stomach as he willed himself to eat them, but before he could make a move, they had already been taken away.

“Don’t eat those,” Rogue paled just looking at them and gagged when he took them to the bathroom to flush them down the toilet. “No, I ate already. This wasn’t my first attempt,” he admitted when he came back, looking rather sheepish when he had to add, “we, uhm, need to go to the grocery store.”

“Maybe after the rain clears?” Sting suggested, not really expecting him to agree but wanting to act normal. He felt a surge of relief when Rogue just nodded in reply.

Like he’d thought earlier, last night had just been a relapse. One that had been both terrifying and frustrating, but not the end of the world. Things were still changing for the better, it was just slow going. He finished his breakfast as best he could, and despite Rogue’s protests got up and helped clean up the mess in the kitchen. Unsurprisingly, there wasn’t a trace left of the havoc they’d wreaked in the hallway the night before.

“Want to go sit on the front porch?” Sting asked. Now that he was up, he was in the mood to sit and watch the rain. The fresh air would probably do them good.

Rogue stared at the door wordlessly but eventually replied, “Yeah, okay, I have a book I want to finish.”

It wasn’t excitement, but it was something, and Sting liked watching Rogue read his books, it was one of the few times when he was truly relaxed. He hurried to their room to change into a pair of shorts and a t-shirt, deciding to remain barefoot. He grabbed his phone and headed outside, finding Rogue already sitting down with his book on his lap, although his gaze seemed a million miles away.

Not wanting to disturb him, Sting sat down and poked around on his phone, finding a text from Yukino, asking how they were doing and telling him that she missed having him around. He’d started swiping a response when Rogue broke the comfortable silence.

“I used to love the rain,” he announced, “just everything about it, the smell, the way it felt on my body on a hot summer day, and the rainbows that came after.”

Sting didn’t quite know how to respond, so he remained silent and let Rogue talk.

“Cana, Gray and I would chase each other and jump in puddles, even though we’d promised my mom we wouldn’t. And on good days, when Dad and Gildarts were both around, they’d join in. We’d play tag and just laugh ourselves silly.”

Rogue chuckled softly, “Sometimes those two were bigger kids than we were.”

Sting put his arm around him, urging him closer, as he could see that even though Rogue seemed to be having a pleasant memory, there was something ugly lurking underneath, and he was sure he knew exactly what it was.

“We’d all come home covered in mud, and Mom would give us that look of horror when she scolded us for all the mopping and laundry she’d have to do, but then once we were all showered there was always hot chocolate with tiny marshmallows waiting for us."

“Now, I have a whole new set of memories that resurfaces whenever it rains, and the good ones have all been overridden.” Rogue closed the book on his lap without looking, continuing to stare blankly at the driveway, which was as good as flooded. “And all it took was no more than five minutes. I know, because if it had lasted any longer than that, I probably wouldn’t be sitting here right now.”

“Someone would’ve found me, lying in that alley, cold and soaked, with mud in my hair and my pants pulled down.” The hairs on Rogue’s arms stood on end and goosebumps formed on his skin, Sting could feel it underneath his fingertips as he brushed his thumb up and down to offer some sort of consolation. “I’ve seen that outcome too, in one of my nightmares,” Rogue spilled.

Sting held his breath, entirely overwhelmed by conflicting emotions. He was both glad and surprised to finally hear Rogue disclose some of his feelings about what had happened, but the fact that he could’ve died that day, even by accident, sent chills down his spine every time it came to Sting’s mind. The mental imagery of the nightmare made his gut scrunch up in revolt.

“I don’t like to think about that,” he admitted, resting his head on Rogue’s shoulder.

“I...There have been times when I thought it would’ve been better if-” Rogue stopped, swallowing back the words that didn’t need to be said, “But that's not how I really feel. Some amazing things happened that I'm glad I didn't miss out on, and I like to think that there will be many more in the future.”

"There will be," Sting said confidently, wanting to cement that positive outlook more than anything in the world. “It just takes-”

“Time, I know, but how much time has already passed? How much time will it take? How many times will I bring myself down, possibly taking you with me, and how long before one of us doesn’t want to get back up again?”

“I don’t have the answer to that, no one does,” Sting ran his fingers through his hair, “I’m going to tell you the same thing Bob told me. You can’t do this for me, or even for us, you have to do it for you. I will still be here, for as long as it takes.”

“And I don’t care about last night, or any other nights like it, because I know you will get past this.”

“I do care about last night,” Rogue countered, “I’ve felt so distant from myself and from you, and then suddenly, I didn’t, and I desperately wanted to chase that.”

He chuckled bitterly, sucking in his bottom lip when it began to quiver. His voice was watery and cracked halfway through as he added, “But the truth is, I have no control over anything, not the way my body responds or the thoughts and images my mind feeds me. So no matter how much I missed it and wanted it, I couldn’t.”

Sting had heard him cry only once, caught a few sniffles when they’d curled up on the couch together after Rogue had shown him the journal. He’d had no idea what to do or say then, and he didn’t now, either. His chest felt tight, and tears began to well in the corners of his eyes as he witnessed Rogue breaking down in front of him, little by little, shattering Sting’s heart.

“That might be okay for you, but it’s not for me-” Rogue wiped his tears, but it was pointless, there was no stopping the grief that spilled, and all he managed to do was turn his skin red and raw. “This has taken so many things from me already. All the things I used to love and enjoy have been tainted, yesterday was just another cruel reminder of that.”

“And I’m so sorry,” his voice quavered through his hands, interrupted by the spasms of sobs and hiccups, “I should’ve been grateful that you were so understanding instead of giving you shit because I couldn’t cope with the fact that I’m so far from your level. I was frustrated and disappointed, and I took it out on you.”

Sting let him pour it all out, shifting their positions so he could wrap both arms around Rogue and let him cry on his shoulder. Neither of them seemed to notice Rogue’s book falling to the ground.

It killed him inside, knowing that the one he loved so dearly was in so much pain, but Sting was happy to offer the comfort he could tell Rogue needed from the way he clung on to him.

“You know, there’s no such thing as your level or my level...” He stroked through Rogue’s hair, thinking about the guilt he still felt for not being there right after the attack, or during the difficult moments that followed after, when there was no one Rogue trusted and felt comfortable enough with to be this vulnerable. This was, in some way, healing to Sting as well, to be able to offer that comfort even though it was long overdue.

“My troubles cannot be compared to what you’re going through, and even if it could, we’re two very different people. We have different personalities, different beliefs, different cultures, and upbringing. All of that defines what does and doesn’t work for us, how we react and deal with things."

Rogue was slowly calming down again, releasing his tight grip on Sting’s shirt. He spoke softly, almost whispering, his voice barely reaching above the rain that clattered down on the overhang above them. “Your therapist...Do you think he’d want to see me?”

Sting pulled back from their embrace, surprised by Rogue’s words. He studied his tear-stricken features for a hint of confirmation that he’d heard that right.

“I’m so sick of it, Sting, I want me to define me again.” Rogue got up and moved to the edge of the overhang, leaning against the wooden railing. Reaching out a hand, palm side up, he let the rain coat his fingers. A shiver went through him that was unlikely to have been caused by the chilly weather, but he didn’t retract his hand.

“I’m tired of doing the same thing over and over again, expecting a different outcome and still being let down when it doesn’t happen,” He sniffed, staring at his bare feet and wiggling his toes in the shallow pool of water he was standing in.

“And I’m terrified- the admission made him choke on the word, “but I know I can’t do this on my own anymore, I’ve tried that.”

Sting walked up to him, making sure to give him some space first and asking, “Can I hold you?” wrapping his arms around Rogue again when he nodded his consent.

“You don’t have to do this alone, I’ll be there whenever you need me,” he promised, “And of course Bob would want to see you, he told me he’d gladly make time for you if it was something you ever wanted.”

“I want to,” Rogue confirmed, sliding the raindrops around between his fingertips, “I want the rain back, I want my music back, I want my writing focus back, I want us back…”

“But most of all, I really want myself back. I miss the person I used to be.”

“Then I’ll text him right now,” Sting said, his fingers already flying across the screen of his phone as he sent a message to Bob, asking if he could see Rogue over the weekend.

He went back to holding Rogue close, nudging them back to the bench where they could sit comfortably. Rogue was limp, obviously exhausted from his outburst, and Sting could see his eyes were fixed on his phone, so he gave it to him to hold.

“Everything’s going to be alright,” Sting murmured into Rogue's hair, rubbing his arm gently when he noticed that he was shivering, “and I know it’s frustrating, but we’re gonna get through this together. I wasn’t joking when I said you were stuck with me, you know.”

“There’s no one for me but you,” Sting continued reassuring Rogue as best he could, “I know that just as my dad knew when he met my Mom.”

Rogue wasn’t sure how much time they sat like that, him holding on to Sting as he kept talking, both waiting for the tone that would alert them to Bob’s response. When it finally came, Rogue had almost fallen asleep, lulled by Sting’s words and the sound of his heartbeat. He looked down in slight trepidation, almost sobbing with relief when he saw the words light up the screen.

How does tomorrow at 3 sound?

#fairy tail #ftdadsau #shadowlightweek2020 #stingue #orfus #fics #update #prompt: free (rain)

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wavemaker9 · 5 years ago

Text

Was thinking about spn au again, specifically soulless kyle + the doug thing, and ya’ll want a thought?

So I already suggested the bit of Kyle trying to explain to Gil and Ivan like. Hey this soulless thing is actually working out really well for me and it baffles me that you don’t see it the same way too, i’m /not/ looking to get my soul back, no thank you. But then him later admitting to ludwig (matt? we had suggested the swap to matt recently after the prev posts so I’ll swap to matt too I guess) that he doesn’t think any of it got through and he still thinks they’re going to try something so him thinking he needs to try something first + his referring to soul!kyle as “him” instead of even the “old me” he’d probably been using for a while after the soulless thing first came out, fully solidifying okay he has completely distanced himself which isn’t good. Matt tells gil and ivan like hey we should work on fixing this soon since he didn’t specify an option but he seems like he’ll at least be looking for a way to prevent his soul coming back so like.

Another point I had suggested in another post though was soulless!Kyle getting to meet Doug again, via some bullshit flashback showing that doug wasn’t killed by the three during the first encounter and managed to get his old body back or whatever. Honestly, could get a new one, that’d probably be fine. God, imagine if I introduced jodie into this AU by having her be the next body Doug takes on. Anyway anyway, whether he looks like himself or not, him having a major grudge against the group, mainly gil, ivan, and matt. Kyle’s a nuisance and it sucked having to pretend to give a shit about him, but he was easy to play and he ultimately wasn’t the one who ruined doug’s plans. So Doug lowkey looking for revenge and when he finds the gang again, starts to make plans in the bg. Except at one point, him and Kyle running into each other when it’s just Kyle, and at first Doug thinks he’s fucked on this plan, but tries to do damage control until he realizes something’s clearly off with Kyle. Doug tells him to spill on what’s up with him (i don’t think demons can tell if a person is missing a soul but if so he auto knows from that) and while Kyle argues against it at first because he doesn’t owe doug anything let alone telling him this, he’s eventually either talked into telling him or just lets slip enough clues + doug realizing what kyle’s snuck away to try and research for so that doug can guess at it, which kyle confirms and starts to try and focus on the ‘i’m going to exorcise you so i can get back to work’ thing since having doug here is way more of a hinderance than a help. Except Doug offers yknow, he /could/ help here, if Kyle were interested. At the confirmation that Kyle doesn’t want his soul back and is looking for a way to stop it, but can’t find anything, Doug like oh /mate/ it sure is your lucky day. Doug directing him to some other source of lore in the area to show him there IS actually a spell you can do that’ll make it impossible to put your soul back, scars the vessel so the soul can’t return and all that. All you need is x, y, z, and ‘the blood of the father’ (i really should put the effort into looking up the wording but like. Yknow, idc). Kyle offering his dad’s dead so thanks for nothing, but Doug cutting him off like ‘you know that old magic, lots of wiggle room’ and explains it really only has to be anyone who was a father figure or guardian really, like say, an older brother kyle /used/ to look up to and who hangs over him like a watchful parent a lotta the time, for instance?

Kyle suspicious, knowing that doug can’t really be trusted but also given that doug was able to provide a bit more concrete evidence of this physical piece of lore backing it up, he’s not completely dismissing it. Asks why Doug would want to help him again and Doug waving off oh he’s not, he’s helping himself. Given how their last encounter went + how Kyle is now, Doug knows he doesn’t have to sugar coat anything or bullshit the kid, and that it’s frankly better if he doesn’t. He can just walk kyle through the steps to explain why this is good for both of them. Doug laying out that he’s more mad at the others than Kyle. He’s still fucking annoyed as shit by Kyle- though admittedly less by this version of him than the old kid, and either way, he can pick his battles. But, and Doug brings up three fingers at this: kyle kills Gil for the spell, that’s one down, and he folds one finger over. He says he’s hoping Kyle has to kill at least one of the other two to get away with it, but let’s say that he doesn’t. Kyle thinks Matt’s going to hang around once Gil’s dead? Absolutely not, so he’ll be on his own, easy for him to handle, fold another finger down. And finally Ivan? Without the chance of getting his old boyfriend back? Doug’s sure Ivan’s been putting up with a lotta shit for Kyle to hold onto the idea of this all returning to normal, but once that’s done, once he physically /can’t/ get Kyle back, Ivan’ll spiral and probably drop off from the group too. If another hunter doesn’t finish him off, Doug will easily, and there folds the final finger.

Kyle clearly considering, but finally frowns and shakes his head. He’s not looking to get them all killed exactly, he just needs them off his back. Working with them has its benefits, he just doesn’t want them wasting time and energy trying to “fix” him when he’s not broken. Doug countering back that Kyle’s really going to let /that/ stop him? Don’t tell him that Kyle’s really going to put the others’ lives over his own when they clearly won’t do the same for him if he’s pushed to these extremes to get them to stop from overwriting /his/ existence with this shittier version of him. Not to mention how long until they actually find a way to force his soul back in? You think they’re gonna give him the same courtesy of second guessing and giving him more time to find a way to stop it, if there even is another way which doug doesn’t think there is? Kyle offering he could try running if it came down to it but Doug just laughing at that. You’re gonna escape all three of them after waiting for a point when they’ll /know/ he’ll be ready to leave. Plus, /please/ tell me how well trying to run from a stubborn vampire who’s faster, stronger, and tougher than you goes when the vampire still thinks there’s a chance to fix this boyfriend he’s sunk so much energy into. The only way to be /certain/ is to scar the vessel and make it /physically impossible/ to stick the soul back in. otherwise, the others will find a way and kyle knows it.

Kyle finally reluctantly sighing, admitting those are all good points. He hates to agree, but doug’s not wrong here. Doug adding on, too, that the only one Kyle’d /really/ be killing is Gil, anyway, he doesn’t have to hurt either of the other two if he’s careful. Doug can also promise as needed not to go after the other two or whatever, but does reiterate that a rogue vampire or an inexperienced hunter don’t have great odds (because he can just go kill them anyway and kyle won’t know for sure if it was him or not. Plus like. Doug can say “I don’t care about killing you as much as the others” but if Kyle’s all alone too, he’ll be easier to take out too, so who really cares?).

And all those points finally being what flips Kyle over to agreeing it’s the most logical option and thus, trying to put the plan into action. I dunno if I want Doug to slip back into the BG after that or have Kyle try to get his help since it’ll be easier to overpower gil enough to tie him up for the sacrifice with a demon’s help. I do think it’d be kind of a shame to introduce doug just for this bit and not have him stick around as an extra threat. Plus, Gil finding out what Kyle’s planning when kyle puts the action into place + finding out kyle found out from doug’s suggestion & is working with him ///again///??? just ???? kyle what the FUCK??? Trying to kill your BROTHER is bad enough but trying to kill YOUR BROTHER because that shitty DEMON we all HATE who is a KNOWN LIAR told you it’d make it so you couldn’t get your soul back is FUCKED UP how do you NOT see the issue in you not having a soul, soul!you would know now not to listen to doug, what the FUCK? With kyle then having to present his counters of ‘you all won’t give up and I can’t avoid or run forever, what do you want me to do????’

Also almost forgot but i remember seeing talk of ludwig punching kyle in the face to stop him in the prev post so now matt gets to do that instead. matt seeing kyle has tied up gilbert to sacrifice him and possibly has doug there with him and just first order of business is punch kyle out before they turn on doug as needed. if doug is there, him probably smoking out real fast if able, this was fun bye nerds

#ignore this #the thief kid #amusing muse musings #hey you au #au supernatural edition

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starlightkun · 3 years ago

Text

snowflake ; ayakashi ❧ doyoung [four]

❧ word count: 9.1k

❧ warnings: cursing, mutual hurt/comfort

⤷ prologue* ⤷ prev. ⤷ next

*you need to read the prologue before reading any of the individual routes

On the same street that you had first encountered Chaewon on, just as empty and dark as before, you stood beside Doyoung nervously. Waiting around always made anxiety bubble up within you. You couldn’t tell if you were sweating from that or from the several layers that your snow spirit boyfriend made you adorn. It wasn’t nearly cold enough for it, but he insisted that you’d need them fairly soon into your journey to Erethulia.

You lacing your bare fingers with Doyoung’s earned you an inquisitive frown. Before he could check in on your temperature, you gave it to him unprompted and with a pointed tone, “Warm. Very warm. Hot, actually.”

“Sorry,” he replied, bringing his other hand up to press the back against your forehead. “Oh, you are warm. This isn’t a problem we’ve encountered yet.”

“Either let me take the jacket off or keep your hands,” you unlaced your hand that was holding his and instead yanked it up to cup your cheek, “right there.”

With amusement in his features, he moved the one on your forehead to cup your other cheek, “How’s that?”

“Well now my forehead’s hot.”

Snickering for a moment, Doyoung then pulled you closer, pressing his lips to your forehead. Your eyes fluttered shut as you reveled in the tender moment. When he pulled his lips back, he replaced them with his forehead.

“Thank you for doing this, Y/N. It means so much to me,” he murmured, cool breath fanning over your face with his words. You placed your hands over his, getting too choked up to reply verbally in that moment.

“You mean so much to me,” he continued softly. You nuzzled your nose forward to bump against his affectionately, hoping he understood all the emotions you couldn’t put into words. Just in case, you changed the angle of your head to kiss him, slowly and sweetly.

You’d just broken the kiss when a throat was cleared, nearly making you jump out of your skin. Chaewon was crossing the street, hands tucked into the sleeves of her flowing robes. Her hair was done up similarly to how it was last time, silver catching in the faint light from the streetlights and shining like it was made of moonlight itself. And of course the material of her clothes—millions of tiny ice crystals—was shimmering like diamonds. Her features told of a beauty in her youth that had aged along with her but never faded. If you didn’t know better, you would’ve thought she was some kind of divine being herself.

“Good to see that the Prince has found a Queen to bring with him,” she said, voice not betraying if she felt pleased or not about this.

You choked on your own throat at that, caught way off guard. Marriage wasn’t even a glimmer in your eyes at this point in your life, nor were you anywhere near any sort of discussion like that with Doyoung, not this soon into your relationship. Neither of you had even said you loved each other yet.

“Chaewon,” Doyoung’s voice was icy, a layer of chastising in it as he dropped his hands from your face and placed one on the small of your back.

“I tease, I tease,” the woman assured you, voice not changing very much. Her teasing tone sounded an awful lot like her normal tone. So monotonousness was an Erethulian thing, not just a Doyoung thing.

“Sorry,” your boyfriend apologized to you quietly, rubbing his hand up and down your back for a moment.

“So you’re coming with us, Onmyoji?”

“My name’s Y/N,” you introduced yourself, pushing past the crack in your voice leftover from your panic at her mention of marriage. “And yes, I’ll be coming too.”

“Wonderful. We should depart now if we wish to arrive before the gates close.”

“Before the gates close?” Doyoung questioned, grabbing his singular bag and your duffel bag. You shouldered your backpack and grabbed your suitcase to start wheeling behind you.

Chaewon led the way down the streets, filling both you and the other snow spirit in on the state of Erethulia, “Wraiths have been roaming the valley in hordes, many close to the city. It’s a precaution.”

Then, her sharp eyes focused on you, “You should meet Chanshik when we arrive, he’ll be ecstatic about having an Onmyoji in Erethulia again.”

“Why have the Wraiths been able to come so close to the city that you must close the gates?” Doyoung’s brow furrowed as a frown returned to his features, “Are there no Onmyoji in Erethulia anymore?”

“The Chancellor threw them out,” Chaewon confirmed. “He wanted to ‘purify’ Erethulia. Many Erethulians left with their Onmyoji, and more when conditions began to worsen.”

“You’ve suffered a diaspora,” you breathed out solemnly, feeling your chest ache for these people.

“Yes, Erethulia grew weak so its people started leaving, and their departure weakened the lands even more, causing more Erethulians to leave. A nasty cycle. But some are returning, now that they’ve heard their King is.”

Doyoung shook his head, “I’m no King.”

“I suppose you’ve taken a liking to human democracy. Elections, term limits.”

“It’s more ethical than nepotism.”

“But no humans are born with an innate link to their land and the collective spirit of their people. Early human kings claimed the divine right to rule, given to them from their God. They of course had no such thing. But you, Prince Doyoung, have the duty to rule, given to you from the lands of Erethulia itself. If you weren’t meant to be King, you would not have been born into the Royal Family. Arwel is absolute.”

Doyoung didn’t reply to this, and you looked over to him, trying to gauge how he was feeling from his features. They were hard, but you were able to pick up on the subtle signs. He clenched and unclenched his jaw a couple times, and pursed his lips for just a moment before they settled back into a frown. He didn’t agree with what Chaewon was saying, but apparently had too much respect for her to vocalize his thoughts—something he never had an issue with typically, unless it came to Kun. Chaewon was the only other person you’d seen Doyoung have such reverence for. They definitely had a deeper past than you had first imagined.

At his silence, the older woman’s voice turned colder than before, “You don’t trust in arwel, do you Prince?”

“No, I don’t,” he retorted, hand smoothing over his chest as if he were fixing the lapel of a suit jacket, which he wasn’t wearing in that moment. A habit of his.

“It is worse than I feared. Democracy. No arwel. You’ve been away for far too long indeed.”

“I was eight when I left, you can’t expect me to have kept up Erethulian ways.”

“I never imagined you would have forsaken arwel.”

“Wasn’t it arwel that allowed my parents to be killed?” Doyoung’s voice was still cold, sending a shiver down your spine at how he could say such a thing with no emotion.

You grabbed his hand apprehensively, in part to comfort him, and in part to comfort you, remind yourself that your boyfriend wasn’t such a cold-hearted person as to disregard his parents’ murder in such a way, to use it as a pawn in a philosophical argument. The gentle squeezing of your hand soothed your worries.

Chaewon was quiet for a moment, seemingly at a loss for words.

The silence that settled over the group was tense, thick, and you dared not to break it to ask for clarification as to who or what ‘arwel’ was. Neither Erethulian offered it up to you.

“Where’s the Chancellor now?” Doyoung changed the subject. “Will I have to worry about another assassination plot?”

“He passed the morning before I left to retrieve you.” The emotionlessness of Chaewon’s voice made it difficult to know her thoughts or feelings on anything unless she expressed them in explicit words. She didn’t sound broken up about the Chancellor’s death—and you couldn’t imagine why she would be, if he really had run Erethulia into the ground—but there was no way you could tell for sure.

“His supporters? He didn’t execute such a scheme by himself.”

“Bullies and cowards. They were run out of town soon after,” the older snow spirit’s voice actually held a hint of malice as she spoke of them. “Everyone remaining is loyal to you, to your parents.”

You watched your boyfriend’s Adam’s apple bob up and down as he swallowed. He remained quiet, apparently having nothing more to say to that. Chaewon took the ceasing of the conversation in stride, becoming silent as well.

Doyoung was right about you needing the jacket fairly soon into your journey. It was only fifteen minutes later that Chaewon led you into a cave on the side of the mountain that held the shrine, the air temperature immediately dropping to a chilling degree. The older snow spirit was ahead of you and Doyoung, a light emanating from her front somehow. You tried to peer around her shoulder to see where the light was coming from, but all you could tell was that it was originating from her chest.

“How are you doing that? Lighting up the tunnel?” You asked her curiously, taking in your surroundings. The floor beneath you was flat and firm, the walls around you a simple grey rock, carved into a smooth arch over your head, a comfortable width across for you and Doyoung to walk side by side with your luggage.

“Iridia crystal necklace,” she answered plainly.

“Light-sensitive crystal,” Doyoung explained further for you. “Sort of like those glow in the dark stars you stick on ceilings except way brighter.”

“Oh! I know how those work!” You exclaimed, happy to finally have something that you actually knew about. “Valence electrons in the atoms of the material absorb energy from light and jump to higher energy levels. When the light disappears, the electrons are forced to release the energy in the form of visible light, as they fall back to their natural energy levels.”

Chaewon was silent, keeping her eyes forward on the tunnel ahead.

“So your Chem midterm went well?” Your boyfriend surmised, fondness in his tone.

“Yeah, I got a ninety-five before the curve,” you said quietly, face heating up at the apparent rejection from Chaewon.

Doyoung dropped a peck to the crown of your head, “Good job, genius.”

The further you went into the tunnel, the cooler it got. At the first hint of a shiver from you, Doyoung made your small group halt so you could get another jacket, thick parka, and gloves from your bags. He pulled the hood up for you, holding eye contact with you while he did so. Even this far into your relationship, you still found it so easy to be swept away into his dark eyes, mouth falling open just slightly. In the light afforded by the iridia crystal, you could see the dusting of baby blue rising up on his cheeks as you continued staring at him, mesmerized.

“Warm, Onmyoji?” Chaewon’s question snapped your focus away from your boyfriend, pushing the three of you to continue your journey.

“Yes,” you confirmed, feeling your agility starting to dwindle. So far the path had been an easy one, and you hoped that it’d stay like this. One unexpected rock and you’d surely go down.

“We’re almost there, Y/N,” Doyoung assured you. “See the pink light coming in? That’s the sunset, we’re close to the exit.”

And sure enough, there was pink beginning to paint the walls of the tunnel, Chaewon’s iridia crystal dimming in response. It was the mention of a sunset that intrigued you. It was well after dark when you left the city, you were curious as to how the sun was just beginning to set on the other side. Must be some kind of magic. You filed that away under your mental list of things to ask for clarification for later. When the time seemed appropriate. In addition to how that tunnel got you to a location that was supposed to be hundreds of miles away in just about an hour. Presumably more magic.

“Perfect timing,” Chaewon commented. “The gates close at twilight. Come, we’re near.”

Just a few more steps around a curve in the tunnel, and you could see the exit. It was a gradual slope down onto a trail, but that was just in your periphery. As the tunnel walls gave way to open air around you, your eyes were immediately caught on the sight at the end of the path.

Just as Doyoung had said, the kingdom of Erethulia was carved right into the mountainside. Terraced houses and buildings made distinct by great arches acting as windows and pillars holding up the story above it, with a singular large doorway at the top. It was all carved of the same grey stone as the tunnels and the rest of the mountain, but covered in white snow turned peony pink and sherbet orange by the setting sun. You could see Erethulians milling about, dots of blue, teal, purple, and white. Below it was a green valley that seemed more like an ocean of grass rippling like waves with the wind that cascaded down from the snowy peak and over the city that was along the face.

“Come on, Y/N,” Doyoung ushered you down the trail.

You realized that it wasn’t quite a trail as you had first thought but was actually a paved road. Along the edges were more iridia crystals, soft glow growing in strength the further down the sun sank, lighting your way clearly. The mountainside was on your right, iridia crystals placed in the face of it to cast light from above you as well. What would have been a precariously sharp drop on your left was made safe by a tall mesh fence that reached well above your head. Upon closer inspection, you realized it was made of ice, solid and sturdy, but woven to be yielding enough that if someone were to be pushed into or fall into it, it wouldn’t hurt them. No way anybody could go over, intentionally or unintentionally.

The gates into Erethulia were grand, just like the kingdom itself, looming over you almost ominously. The top of it had larger versions of the tip of Chaewon’s spear, probably half your height, but just as razor sharp. It sent a chill down your spine, and you pressed closer to Doyoung instinctually.

Chaewon nodded to the two Erethulians standing at the gate, two women. Over their teal robes were delicately crafted blue breastplates and shoulder pieces. Despite the armor's elegant appearance, you were sure they were as sturdy as the ice fence along the trail. In their hands were spears as well, the leather looking quite a bit newer than Chaewon’s had. They seemed to be much younger than her, probably around Doyoung’s age if you had to guess.

They bowed to Doyoung, and he turned his gaze away, discomfort at their actions evident in the pained look on his face.

“Please, stand,” he said as he slowed to a stop, and they immediately obeyed.

One spoke, her voice deep, “Welcome back, my K—”

“Don’t,” he cut her off harshly. His voice was soft and much more strained as he tried to take the edge out of it with his next words, “Please… I’m not your King.”

“I apologize.”

“It’s fine. Resume your duties, please.”

“Of course.”

The two guards’ eyes followed you, nothing but curiosity in their gazes. You hurried to stay at Doyoung’s side as you made your way into the city, your skin beginning to crawl at all the staring. Clutching his arm with your free hand, you desperately tried to keep your breathing under control. Nobody was daring to speak to Doyoung, probably overhearing his short outburst at the guard earlier.

His mouth was suddenly right beside your ear, his voice dropping to a whisper to ask, “That wasn’t a good first impression, was it?”

“Not really,” you answered just as quietly. “Maybe you should say something to them? A little less scary, preferably.”

Then his mouth disappeared from the shell of your ear as he straightened up. You looked up at him as he cleared his throat once, twice. Chaewon came to a stop as you had reached the main floor of the town, the central level, a crowd gathering above, below, and beside you. Despite the grandiose appearance of the architecture, the actual town held within the stone was lackluster. Every person you passed by had bags under their eyes, cheeks beginning to hollow that foretold of a lack of proper nutrition. But it was their eyes that haunted you. No light in their eyes, they were all dull, hopeless and forlorn. There were very few children, you noted, and wondered if that was due to curfew or a much more sinister reason. The youngest person you could spot was a teenager, his eyes narrowed into slits as they focused on Doyoung. There were no stalls along what you had assumed to have once been a bustling marketplace, and many buildings were empty right alongside the few that were occupied. It was a zombie city, half dead and half alive.

“Erethulia, for too long you have suffered due to the ineptitude of those who were supposed to provide for you,” Doyoung enunciated clearly, projecting his voice rather well to the large space. “And I’m not returning to pretend that I have suffered along with you, that I understand your pain, your loss. Many of you know who I am, Doyoung, the lost son of the last King and Queen, but you don’t know me, and I don’t know you. I haven’t served you as I should have, and for that I’m deeply sorry. But I’m returning with a promise, that I will do everything I possibly can to help you all, to serve you all as you deserve. As always, the doors to the castle will be open to all. The Royal Family has never shut its doors to you, and there is no reason for that to start now. I am here for you, not myself. Tonight we should all rest, but tomorrow I request that those with concerns, questions, or information that can aide me in helping you all come to the castle to share your thoughts with me. Thank you, and once again, I am deeply sorry.”

He had just turned from where he had been speaking when a whistle rang out. It grew louder, and you realized that it was coming from the Erethulians around you. It was a single note, light and bright. You looked around at the people all around you, each of them contributing to the sound. Even the scowling teenage boy from earlier had joined in. At the look of pained awe on Doyoung’s features, you grabbed his hand again. None of the snow spirits around you looked angry, many had a single tear slipping down their stony faces, and others had just the faintest of smiles on their lips. It was something good, then. A show of appreciation, perhaps.

Doyoung nodded once before adjusting his hold on the bags he’d been carrying this whole time and looking to Chaewon expectantly. As the three of you resumed your journey through the town, the tone gradually faded out until the sounds reaching your ears were the quiet murmurs of the townsfolk. You were heading away from the balcony that overlooked the valley and further into the mountain.

You were still holding Doyoung’s hand, eyes flicking between the ground beneath your feet—it’d be just your luck to trip with an entire population of snow spirits watching—and his face. He’d never been one to be terribly expressive, it was usually the smallest details that gave it away to you. But there was something about being back in Erethulia that left a permanent mask of pain over his features, making it harder to read any other underlying emotions. You were worried about him, of course.

At the base of a set of stairs, Doyoung finally said something to you, “Here, I’ll take the suitcase.”

Your boyfriend moved your duffel bag, made much heavier by the thick blankets and quilts inside it, to his shoulders before taking the handle of your suitcase and collapsing it back into itself. He took his duffel bag off from where it had been slung over his shoulder to put the strap over your own head and pick up your suitcase with one hand. The duffel bag was surprisingly light, and you wondered to yourself what he had actually packed. Both the bags he was carrying were on his right, freeing up his left hand to rest at the small of your back, extra stability.

“Keep a hand on the railing, Y/N,” Doyoung murmured to you as you eyed the steps cautiously.

Smooth stone in a snow kingdom, it was bound to be icy and slippery. But as soon as you went to hesitantly place a foot on the first step, you watched the ice shift to a much rougher texture. Your shoe felt secure on it, and you were able to take the next step with ease. You still kept your gloved left hand clutching at the railing as Doyoung had instructed, just in case. Catching his eye, you hoped to have conveyed your appreciation for his attentiveness in that brief moment. Just like when he had smoothed up the ice at the skating rink for you, he was making this ice rough for your safety.

The flight of stairs required more exertion from you than the entire nearly hour walk had. Beneath all your layers, the extra body heat being generated from the exercise was trapped, only building and making you sweat. Great, as soon as you cooled back down that sweat would practically turn to icicles on your skin. You used your spare right hand to wipe at your forehead. What a sight you surely were to the Erethulians: a human—or Onmyoji, depending on how old they were—that they could barely see under all your layers, puffing and sweating from a flight of stairs you imagined they took multiple times a day.

Finally, you reached the very top level, everything up there dusted with a layer of snow. Johnny’s request for you to make a snow angel for him popped up in your mind, and a hint of a smile tugged at the corner of your lips. You’d have to fulfill that task later. Tomorrow, maybe.

The face of the peak contained a single grand doorway, glowing from within under the power of a multitude of iridia crystals. It was once again carved into the mountain, but this time the architecture was covered in elegantly crafted ice. The top of the doorway seemed to jut out from the face quite a bit, the opposing walls seeming as if they would converge right around where you were standing if they were to continue. You had just sucked in a deep breath—both in awe and still recovering from the climb—when a great rumbling made you jump. It faded out as you whipped around, looking for the source of it.

“The gates.”

You had spotted them as soon as Doyoung said the words. The gates had been shut, the sound that had startled you caused by the large blocks of ice locking into place with each other. They still looked so enormous, even from the surely hundreds of feet above them that you were.

Passing under the arch of the doorway, you craned your neck up to look at it. You had entered into what seemed to be a foyer with six sides total, a regular hexagon. The doorway appeared to have been in a corner where two sides met, and you looked behind you at the doors. They were large and imposing stone once more decorated with ice, folded against the two walls they were attached to. If they were to be closed, the hexagon would be completed perfectly.

Each side of the hexagon had its own imposing arch leading away from the foyer. Those drew your eyes upwards, to the ceilings. It reminded you of the Sistine Chapel, intricate paintings of vivid scenes. Figures whom you had no knowledge of, but felt moved by nonetheless. A woman with jet black hair opening her arms wide, clothed much like the Erethulians around you, except her robes were of the purest white, the light being reflected from it casting directly onto the room that you were standing on. Every color of the rainbow, red landing on the hall furthest to your left, and purple on the one furthest to your right, the others all falling into place on the four between them. At the very top of the vaulted ceiling was a large cluster of iridia crystals, providing just enough light to see, but not so much that it overwhelmed the rainbow that was being projected all around you.

As your eyes followed the colors, they were drawn to the floor beneath you. It was a crisp mosaic embedded into the stone, a repeated pattern of colored triangles arranged in such a way that they created hexagons, those hexagons incorporated into the greater shape of the floor.

You finally looked over at Doyoung, curious as to what his reaction would be to being back here, his childhood home that he hadn’t been in since he was eight. Relief? Wistfulness? Hurt? His eyes were stuck on the fifth hall from your left, the only one covered by what looked like a sheet that you’d find at construction sites to protect spaces from dust or paint or the like. You imagined it was some sort of snow spirit equivalent, but it still blocked that hall from your vision.

A figure emerging from the second hall from your left, the one that had orange light shining over it, drew both yours and Doyoung’s attention. He was older, similar in age to Chaewon, if you had to guess, the same weathering on his face and silvering of his hair. And he had a full smile on his face. Not a grin, just a normal smile. To the Erethulians with you, he was probably absolutely beaming, looking ecstatic. If he had been a typical human, you’d interpret it as just a simple and polite smile of greeting, however.

“Oh… look at you,” he said wistfully as he approached Doyoung.

He withdrew his hands from his sleeves to hold one out to Doyoung, arm bent at a ninety-degree angle so that his fingertips were pointing upwards. You watched with interest as Doyoung mirrored the gesture, placing their palms together. Doyoung closed his eyes and bowed his head, the older man doing so just a moment later. Chaewon and Doyoung hadn’t done this, so it must be how male Erethulians greeted each other, not a cross-gender gesture. Your boyfriend didn’t drop his hand until after the other man had.

It was then that the newcomer finally turned his attention to you, the same smile returning to his features, “An Onmyoji in Erethulia. It’s been far too long. I’m Chanshik, Onmyoji.”

“It’s nice to meet you, I’m Y/N,” you offered up your name, wondering if he would actually use it. Chaewon had yet to.

You’d heard his name before, he was who Chaewon had recommended you meet. Her prediction had been spot on. He rushed towards you, hand extended as if he were going to grab your face for some reason.

“Chanshik,” Doyoung said his name coolly, stepping between the two of you. He tugged at your hood that was already over your head, as if making sure that it was secure before turning on the other man. “Surely you haven’t gone so senile that you can’t tell that she doesn’t have her powers. You’ll freeze her to death.”

“Oh,” Chanshik dropped his hand, his smile dulling just a bit. “I apologize, Onmyoji.”

“What was he going to do?” You asked Doyoung, head tilted curiously.

“The typical greeting between Erethulian and Onmyoji, placing his hand on the back of your neck. But you don’t have your powers, his grip would’ve been much too cold for you.”

“I can’t really feel my face anyway,” you admitted with a chuckle, watching the air fog up in front of your mouth along with your words. “Don’t think it would’ve made too much of a difference.”

Doyoung’s eyes suddenly widened as he looked at you, “Shit, Y/N, you’re not wearing enough layers. Your lips are changing color.”

“Uh, I think I have another parka in my suitcase?”

“Too late,” he murmured, dropping your duffel bag on the ground beside your suitcase, taking his off your shoulders, and pulling your backpack off before latching a hand onto your arm. He raised his voice to address the other two in the foyer with you, “We’re going to the Lady’s Spring.”

Chanshik lit up at this. And by lit up, you meant that his smile actually reached his eyes. Chaewon simply kept observing the two of you with her same neutral expression.

“We’ll accompany you.”

Doyoung either didn’t want to or didn’t have the time or energy to argue with this as he took off down the yellow passageway with you in tow. You held a gloved hand over your mouth, breathing out into it, hoping the trapped warm air would do something to alleviate the coldness that had overtaken your lips without you even realizing it. You’d been too focused on taking in everything around you that you hadn’t been self-regulating. The hall around you turned into a fork, and Doyoung diverged to the right, walking as fast he dared without having you trip on your own feet.

The ornate hall abruptly turned into a tunnel much like the one you had used to travel to Erethulia in the first place. The iridia crystals in this one exuded yellow light, pale but warm.

The end of the tunnel opened up into a large cave. Another cluster of yellow iridia crystals was at the top, illuminating a small pond. To your surprise, there was grass under your feet, soft instead of the hard stone and ice that you’d been on before. The pond was utterly still, wildflowers of every color adorning the edge of it, a random rainbow wreath around the water.

“It’s beautiful,” you breathed out in awe, eyes transfixed on the small body of water.

You barely registered the jostling of your body from Doyoung removing your seemingly endless amount of layers. You should have been wondering why the hell he’d be doing that if he had been worried about you getting cold, but you weren’t. There was a feeling swelling up within you, overwhelming your mind, senses, and body. There was no word to describe it, but the closest one you could find was love. But it was so much more than that.

Tears cascaded down your face, obstructing your view of the water, but your eyes never drifted from it nevertheless. Your chest hurt but you paid it no mind, your head hurt but you paid it no mind.

You were warm, the very idea of coldness seemingly wiped from your breadth of knowledge.

“Y/N.”

The sound of your name broke through it all, and your chin twitched in the direction of it, but you still couldn’t draw your gaze from the pond. The water glistened as it now rippled, seemingly winking at you, reassuring you and beckoning you to it.

“Y/N.”

The voice sounded familiar, and you finally blinked. The split second of broken eye contact with the pond was enough time for the name to spill off your tongue.

“Doyoung.” Doyoung.

“Y/N!”

He wasn’t just saying your name, he was yelling it. The idea of him in distress made your eyes snap away from the pond, frantically looking around for him. He wasn’t beside you anymore, and you whipped around desperately. He was behind you, back at the entrance of the cave.

You willed your legs to move, and they finally did, stiff under you as you ran towards him. Doyoung surged forward as if he had broken through some kind of barrier, and met you halfway, immediately enveloping you in his arms. You clung onto him, trembling, but not from any sort of temperature shock. For once, he didn’t feel cold. It was your own fear making you shake. You were terrified.

“What just happened?” You whispered, voice sounding hoarse and foreign, as if you’d been screaming and sobbing for hours.

Doyoung’s chest shuddered as he let out a deep breath, holding you tightly to him, “The Lady’s Spring is one of the most powerful places in Erethulia. It drew out your powers. You have them now, Y/N, your Onmyoji powers.”

You pulled your face out of the crook of his neck where you had hid it, locking your eyes with his. Both disbelief and fear still coursed through your system side-by-side. He wiped at your under-eyes, and you suddenly remembered that you had been crying. At first they had been those of overwhelming love and joy, but now the ones that were eked out were brought on by fright, hurting your eyes.

“I didn’t like that, Doyoung,” you blubbered out between gasps, eyes still locked on his face as if they were too afraid to look anywhere else. “It was so… much.”

Distress was painted over his features as clear as day as he seemed to be at an utter loss for what to say or do other than cleave you to him once more, his grip on you tight, as if he was afraid you might dissipate if he wasn’t holding onto you. You were glad for it, fearing the very same thing. The longer that Doyoung held you the more you calmed down, your tremors receding and breathing beginning to even out.

“I’ve never seen such a strong reaction to the Lady’s Spring,” a deep voice that wasn’t Doyoung’s remarked. Chanshik. “Pushing him back like that… you must truly be a powerful Onmyoji.”

“You’ll have fun training her, Chanshik,” Chaewon mused aloud. “Elemental manipulation seems right around the corner for her.”

You were shaking in Doyoung’s arms again, panic crashing down over you like a tidal wave at their words. “D-Do— Do-D-D-D,” you couldn’t even say his name through the painful hyperventilation.

“Quiet, you two,” he snapped at them with pure venom in his tone. His tone was much softer as he addressed you quietly and gently, “You’re okay, Y/N. You don’t have to go through that again, okay? You don’t have to train with him or anything, okay? You’re okay, I’m right here.”

You could barely breathe but you were locked in that position by painfully tense muscles, arms hooked around Doyoung and face buried in his neck. His words calmed you in just the slightest, but as soon as he wasn’t talking, that same fear seized you once more and the hyperventilating began again, mind running amok with panic.

Doyoung’s voice provided the smallest amount of clarity, “Y/N, I’m going to bring you to the edge of the pond.”

“No!” Your shriek was muffled by his body, tears gushing out with renewed vigor, more intense than their previous constant stream. Terror had a tighter grip on you than Doyoung, squeezing painfully at your lungs and chest.

“Y/N, please trust me, love, please. You trust me, don’t you? I’m not going to hurt you, I want to help you. I’m trying to help you. Please let me help you. Please.” His voice cracked over the final word, betraying just how much seeing you in this state was affecting him. It grounded you, toning your sobs down to whimpers. You could only nod your assent, not trusting yourself to say anything whatsoever.

Remaining in the same position, Doyoung gently encouraged you to turn around so that your back was to the entrance instead of his. With the same slow, deliberate movements, he began walking backwards, pulling you forward along with him. Your lame feet numbly shuffled across the ground. Step by grueling step you neared the pond once more.

“We’re going to sit down, okay?” Doyoung’s smooth voice was right beside your ear again. “Do you want to stay like this? Sit in my lap?”

You nodded, still mute.

“Alright, might be a little awkward on the way down. Apologies for any bumped limbs.”

Just as he had said, it was an uncomfortable and awkward effort to sit down like that, but somehow the two of you finally managed that. Him cross-legged on the ground and you squarely on his lap, both your legs on one side of his hips, arms still wrapped around his neck in practically a death-grip. You were still trembling, painfully aware of your proximity to the pond. The sound of the water lapping at the edge made a few larger tears well up and spill over.

“Do you want me to tell you about this place?” Doyoung offered, beginning to rub a hand up and down your back. “Would that make it less scary?”

You nodded.

“Okay. This is the Lady’s Spring, a more concentrated area of power in Erethulia. It’s one of our most sacred and spiritual places. It changes and adapts to the needs of whoever comes in. I brought you here to warm you up. I thought it might awaken your powers, but if I had known that it was going to be anything like this, I wouldn’t have brought you here, Y/N. I’m sorry this happened.”

His apology made you remember the entirely overwhelming experience, and you started panicking once more.

Presumably noticing the quickening of your breath again, Doyoung quickly veered back to the more neutral topic, “The water doesn’t freeze here, the only liquid water available in Erethulia. And the flowers, do you smell them, Y/N?”

His words prompted you to breathe in deeply. A refreshing scent wafted up to your nose, wintery. Fresh snow now tinged with evergreen, the latter note being the only indicator that it wasn’t just Doyoung that you were breathing in. With your eyes squeezed shut, you could almost imagine that you were back home, in Doyoung’s bed curled up beside him in his hoodie. The image calmed you even further, your tears turning from rivers to individual drops once more.

“They smell different to everyone,” he continued speaking in that same soothing tone. “What does it smell like to you?”

“You… and Christmas trees,” you mumbled into him. You’d be amazed if he could understand what you actually said.

Doyoung hummed, the sound vibrating against you clearly since you didn’t have a million layers between the two of you. It was a light tune, a familiar one.

“It’s March and you’re humming Christmas carols?” You retorted into him quietly.

“You’re the one who brought up Christmas trees,” he pointed out. “‘O, Christmas Tree’ was the next logical progression.”

With a sniffle, you realized that you had stopped shaking finally. Slowly, you pulled your face out of the crook of Doyoung’s neck, leaving behind a mess of tears, snot, and drool on his skin and collar that made your nose wrinkle. Gross. Clumsily, you wiped at his skin with the dry parts of his collar, knowing that you weren’t actually doing much to help. Doyoung paid it no mind, looking up at you with worried eyes.

“What does it smell like to you?” You murmured, still having little faith in the strength of your voice.

Doyoung reached up a tender hand to brush some of your hair away from your face, “Old books and you.”

Your lower lip quivered at his sweet words, nothing but honestly held within them as you grabbed his hand to press it to your cheek.

“There’s one more thing I want you to do, then we’ll go, okay?” He spoke, watching you fondly as you practically burrowed into his touch. “Do you trust me?”

“Yes,” you whispered and nodded.

Doyoung maneuvered you around so that you were settled between his legs, facing the pond. His chest was pressed to your back, and he laid his right hand over yours.

“I want you to touch the water, Y/N.”

His request made your body freeze for a moment.

“I’m right here with you. You’ll be okay. Remember, the Lady’s Spring adapts to needs of the person within it. It wants to help you.”

“Why did it do that to me earlier then?” You asked with a wavering voice.

Doyoung sighed, “I don’t know. But I want you to trust me now, please. I don’t want you to fear this place.”

“Okay…”

Doyoung began lowering your hands towards the surface of the pond. You fought the instinct to flinch back away from it, forcing yourself to take a deep breath. You trusted Doyoung.

When your palm met the surface of the water, you were surprised by the temperature. It wasn’t cold like you had expected. Cool, yes, but the kind of cool that would be refreshing to jump into on a hot summer’s day. A calmness settled over you, drying your eyes, relaxing your muscles, stilling your heart, and chasing fear from your mind. It was utter peace and tranquility, to an extent that you had never felt before in your life.

Some time later, you withdrew your hand, Doyoung allowing you to do so.

“Thank you, Doyoung,” you turned until you could comfortably press your forehead to his.

“You’re welcome, Y/N,” he whispered, sealing his lips over yours.

The four of you emerged from the yellow hall back into the main room to find a girl in a lilac robe was standing there, maybe around your age. She perked up upon spotting your small group. You were once more bundled back up, and self-consciously pressed a hand to one of your eyes. Doyoung had reassured you that the Lady’s Spring had erased any evidence of you crying from your features, but the girl’s gaze still made you shift uncomfortably.

Your boyfriend brushed right by her, making a beeline for your suitcase, acquiring the parka you had mentioned earlier. You stuck your arms out, letting him pull the sleeves over you and flip the hood up on top of the one you already had on. Content that you weren’t going to get cyanosis again, Doyoung collected all your luggage before he finally turned to face the girl that had been watching the whole scene in front of her with interest.

Upon seeing that he was actually acknowledging her existence, she blurted out, “I’m Minhee, one of the attendants. Um, dinner is prepared in the dining hall.”

“It’s the same food that the poorest citizen of Erethulia has on their table, correct?” Doyoung queried, helping you put on your backpack once more.

“Every citizen is the poorest citizen,” Minhee informed him, some bitterness in her tone.

“You aren’t serving me anything better than what they eat, correct?” He asked sternly.

“Correct.”

“Good,” he nodded, pleased with her answer. “Y/N and I have eaten, dinner already happened on the other side of the tunnel before we departed. Dine without us, we’ll settle into our room.”

“We’ve prepared the Evergreen Quarters for you.”

Doyoung tensed beside you, “That’s not where the Prince stays.”

“Well you’re not—”

“I am. We’re not staying in the Evergreen Quarters. I’ll show us to the Yearling Quarters. Go dine with Chaewon and Chanshik, Minhee.”

Minhee opened her mouth as if she were about to argue, but relented, “Very well.”

Doyoung didn’t move a muscle until the three of them had started down the orange hall. Once you could no longer see them, he guided you a couple archways over, to the green hall.

“The Evergreen Quarters…” You tried to keep your tone light.

“Is the area intended for the King and Queen,” he informed you.

“Your parents’ rooms.”

“Yes. Sleeping in their bed would’ve felt… wrong.”

“I understand, Doyoung,” you reassured him, squeezing his forearm. “I’m going wherever you are.”

“I know,” a smile tugged at the corner of his lips, and he dropped a peck on the crown of your head through your two hoods. “Thank you for that.”

“So the Yearling Quarters are your rooms then? For the little Prince?”

“Yes…” he confirmed, tone turning musing as he continued, “I wonder if it’s changed as much as the rest of Erethulia since I left.”

The two of you had hit a lull in your conversation, so you backtracked to his exchange with Minhee.

“That thing about the food…”

“The Royal Family lives no differently than the rest of its people. We eat as well as they do, work as much as they do, and live as comfortably as they do. The castle is only this large because it serves as the government and economic center of Erethulia. The actual part that the Royal Family lives in is quite a small portion of it.”

“That’s wonderful. Nothing like all the human royalty that’s existed.”

“Like I said before, we exist to serve Erethulia and its people, not the other way around.”

It was then that you had apparently reached your destination, as he slowed to a stop in front of a door. It was closer in size to the ones you were accustomed to in your day-to-day human life. Still made of stone and ice and embedded with green iridia crystals, though. He grabbed the stone handle, and instead of pushing or pulling it open like you anticipated, he slid it open, the door retreating into the wall to grant you entry.

You walked into a singular room, a bedroom. One side had a couch, armchair, rug, and table to form a small sitting area, a desk and chair against the wall, and the other side contained the actual bed as well as a dresser and two nightstands. Another door was there, leading to presumably the bathroom. The furniture was all white, but with a wash of green from the iridia crystals illuminating the room. Doyoung was right, it was rather small, probably a similar square footage to your apartment.

“Well, has it changed?” You prompted him.

“Yes, my pictures are gone,” he informed you bitterly, and it didn’t take a huge leap of logic to know the subject of the pictures. His family.

Doyoung made his way further into the room, setting both your duffel bags on the bed and depositing your suitcase at the foot of the bed. You shimmied your backpack off and set it next to your suitcase on the ground.

“You can unpack, I’m sure the dresser is empty,” Doyoung said, unzipping his own bag.

Taking in the state of the bed—the only bedding was pillows, a fitted sheet, and thin sheet on top—you decided to unpack your blankets and quilts first.

“So what’s all this ‘I’m no King’ stuff?” You asked, struggling to pull the first blanket out from the tightly stuffed duffel bag. “You seemed all gung-ho ‘my people need their King’ back at Kun’s place.”

Your boyfriend sighed, sitting on the edge of the bed, gaze fixated on the wall in front of him, “It’s one thing declaring it in a friend’s penthouse a lifetime away from Erethulia and another actually taking on that role here, where I can see the faces of all the people who are relying on me. Feel all their hopes resting on my shoulders.”

Setting your bag-blanket situation aside, you climbed onto the bed too, kneeling behind him. You placed your hands on his shoulders, “I can’t take that burden from you, but I’m here for you. You know that, right?”

“Of course,” Doyoung straightened up and turned his head to be able to see your face. “And for that, I’m eternally grateful. I’m eternally grateful for you.”

A smitten smile creeped across your face as you continued looking down at him. You slid your hands further down until you could wrap your arms loosely around his neck, nose-to-nose with him now.

“I’m grateful for you too, snowflake,” you murmured, lips ghosting over his with each syllable.

Half an hour later, and you finally settled into the Yearling Quarters. As soon as you realized that you were finished, exhaustion swept over your body and mind. It had been a taxing day, both mentally and physically. And spiritually, you realized. It was strange, having a new aspect of you that could become tired. Your Onmyoji powers.

A yawn split your mouth open, and you looked around for any indication of what time it was. Sure, you had your phone, but it was off. No charging ports, you had to conserve the battery for the week that you were going to be here. There was a window behind you, and it was pitch black outside. Good, it was definitely nighttime. You shuffled over to the window, peering out of it first down at the town, where you could see pathways lit by iridia crystals and moonlight. They were empty, presumably most Erethulians were indoors at this point. Then you looked up at the stars, twinkling far above you.

As another wave of exhaustion washed over you, you contemplated if unbundling yourself to change into pajamas was even worth it. You’d have to just put all the layers back on. Deciding that it wasn’t worth it, you flopped face-first onto your side of the bed, where you had practically created a nest of blankets and quilts for yourself. You had barely touched down when you realized your mistake. You still had a bra on. No way were you going to sleep with an underwire poking into your chest.

With a big sigh and great effort, you stood up once more, and began removing your layers. First the outer parka, then the inner parka, then your thick overcoat, then your crewneck sweater, and you stopped at your longsleeve. The chill of Erethulia was quickly seeping into you at the lack of barrier, so you kept what clothing on you that you could. Reaching under your shirt, you unclipped the back of your bra and pulled your arms into your shirt to be able to remove the straps. Sticking your arms back through your sleeves, you grabbed the bra from under your shirt and tucked it into your suitcase.

You rushed to put your crewneck back on, a shiver running through your body. In that second you made an executive decision: no more bra, it wasn’t worth it. Looking between all your blankets and quilts, and your parkas, you figured that you might not need all those layers, your bedding would be your extra layers. So you instead grabbed an emergency hoodie and placed it on the nightstand beside the bed.

The sounds of Doyoung doing his nighttime routine in the bathroom brought a fond smile to your face. The domesticity of it all. The chill of the air penetrated your few layers, ushering you under the multitude of fuzzy blankets and heavy quilts. You pulled them up over your nose so that just your eyes were peeking over the covers. A shiver went through your body, but this was one of contentment at the warm cocoon you had crafted for yourself.

Doyoung emerged from the bathroom a moment later, in a pair of grey sweatpants and white t-shirt, making you shiver sympathetically. Of course he wasn’t actually cold, though. You were sure he could sleep naked and be just fine. When his eyes met yours, a fond smile tugged at the corner of his mouth.

��Cozy?”

“Yep!”

“Good,” he climbed into the bed as well, under the singular sheet.

You shifted around to lay on your side, facing Doyoung. He did the same, tucking his hand between his cheek and the pillow as the two of you stared each other down from two feet away.

“C’mere,” you requested, unable to move yourself closer to him.

He arched an eyebrow, staying right where he was, “Why?”

“Wanna kiss.”

“Y/N…”

“Just one.”

“Just one?” Doyoung asked, clearly doubtful.

“Maybe two?” You bargained.

Doyoung scooted closer to you, reaching a hand into your nest to cradle the back of your head. You pulled the blankets down to free up your mouth. He guided your head closer to his, kissing your forehead first.

“One.”

Next, he connected his lips to yours, and your heart soared within your chest as you eagerly kissed him back.

“Two.”

“Three?”

“Y/N.”

“Doyoung,” you mimicked his chastising tone. “You can feel how warm I am.”

“Yes, and I’d like to keep it that way.”

“I can regulate, remember?”

“You weren’t regulating earlier.”

“I got distracted.”

“And this won’t be distracting?”

“I’ve done it plenty of times before.”

Doyoung’s features suddenly pinched into a thoughtful frown, “Is everything okay? You’re more… persistent than usual.”

“You’re more resistant than usual,” you huffed, well aware of how childish you were being.

“Y/N, tell me what’s on your mind.”

“In the Lady’s Spring…” you took a moment to put your feelings into words that made sense. “It was nice, being able to hold you like that, without worrying about my circulation or whatever other bullshit keeps us from doing that all the time. Minus the part where I was having a panic attack, but you know what I mean.”

“Like I said, the Lady’s Spring adjusts to whatever you need, and it knew you needed me.”

“I still do.”

“We can go back there again,” he reassured you. “Tomorrow after we eat breakfast I’ll probably have a lot of people to meet with. I’ll have Minhee take you through the castle, then you and I can eat lunch in the Lady’s Spring. How does that sound?”

“Can we do that? Have lunch in one of the most sacred and spiritual places in Erethulia?”

“Yes, it’s meant to be used frequently, no matter how small the need.”

“I just don’t want to be disrespectful.”

“This is how we respect it.”

“Okay, good. It’s a date then.”

“Can I ask a favor?”

“Of course.”

“Just stay in the castle with Minhee tomorrow morning. I meant it when I said I want to show you my home, I want to be the one to show you the rest of Erethulia.”

You smiled at him, “I’d like that, Doyoung.”

He surprised you by surging forward to lock his lips with yours. You made a startled noise against his mouth before relaxing into it, kissing him back readily.

“Three,” he whispered before giving you one last peck. “Four. Happy?”

“Very. You?”

“Happy.”

Doyoung scooched back to his side of the bed, still facing you. You looked up at the iridia crystals on the ceiling, squinting against the light coming from them.

“So how do you turn those off?”

He clapped sharply, and you were immediately swallowed up by darkness.

“Oh.”

“Goodnight, Y/N.”

“Goodnight, snowflake.”

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