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baiwu-jinji · 3 years

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“Preface to the Prince Teng's Pavilion” by Wang Bo, translation by (*)

Interesting fact about the author Wang Bo (650-676 AD): he was seen as a genius ever since he was little, and the way he writes is that he’d get drunk and lie down for a while, and when he becomes sober he’d have everything he wants to write in mind, and then he’ll write down a whole essay in one go without changing or correcting a word. Too bad that he died very early when he was only 26.

This essay may be too long to read, but for anyone interested, I suggest reading the second paragraph (in bold font) because it’s one of the most beautiful passages in classical Chinese prose.

——————————————————————————————————

Nanchang, which was the capital of Yuzhang Prefecture during the Han Dynasty, now falls under the jurisdiction of Hongzhou. It straddles the border of the influence of the Ye and Zhen constellations (1), and is adjacent to the Heng and the Lu mountains (2). The three rivers (3) enfold it like the front part of a garment (4) and the five lakes encircle it like a girdle (5). Itc ontrols the savage Jing area (6) and connects Ou (7) and Yue (8), and its products are nature’s jewels. The radiance of its legendary sword shoots directly upward between the constellations Niu and Dou (9). Its talented people are outstanding, and the spirit of intelligence pervades the place. This was the place where Xu Ru spent the night on his visit to Chen Fan (10). The mighty Hongzhou spreads out immensely amid the fog, and the intellectual luminaries are as numerous as meteors chasing one another. It borders both the uncultured and the civilized areas, and its host and guests are all prominent people from the East and the South. Under the escort of guard of honor with halberds in their hands, Governor Yan, a man of high repute, comes to attend this event from afar. Prefect Yuwen (11), a model of virtue, stops his carriage on the way to his new appointment. On this official holiday, which falls on every tenth day, good friends gather together, and a galaxy of distinguished guests from distant places fill the hall. Also present at the gathering are Master Meng ,whose literary grace is as imposing as a dragon soaring and a phoenix dancing, and General Wang, who has weapons as sharp as the famous swords “Purple Lightning” and “Blue Frost” in his armory. I, an ignorant boy, have the good fortune to take part in this grand banquet on my journey to visit my father, who is a magistrate of a county.

It is September, the third month of autumn. The puddles on the ground have dried up, and the water in the pond is cool and translucent. At dusk the rays of the setting sun, condensed in the evening haze, turn the mountains purple. In the stately carriages drawn by the horses we make our way ahead, visiting the attractive scenic spot in the mountains. Soon we arrive at the river bank, where the King Teng’s Tower beckons, then we ascend the tower where the fairy once dwelled (12). Ranges upon ranges of green mountain rise as high as the sky. The red glow in the water is the reflection of the richly painted tower that seems hovering in the air. From its heights no land is visible. Circling around are the wild ducks on the sand-bars. Cassia-wood courts and magnolia-wood halls rise and fall like mountain ranges. Pushing open the door carved with decorative patterns, I look down upon endless waves of brightly tinted roof tiles, each elaborately engraved with lovely etchings. A panorama of mountains and plains stretches beneath me, and I am mesmerized by the mighty scene of the winding rivers and big lakes. In the city there are houses everywhere. There are families of great affluence, whose meals are served with many cooking tripods of food and to the accompaniment of music. Massive ships and fierce war vessels are densely moored at the ports. On the sterns of many ships are carved designs of blue birds and brown dragons. The rain has just let up and the rainbow has vanished. The rosy clouds drift alongside the lone goose in the air, and the autumn water is merged with the boundless sky into one hue. The fishermen can be heard singing the evening songs, their voices drifting as far as the banks of the Poyang Lake. Even the wild geese feel the chill of dusk settling upon them, and they cry all the way while flying southward, disappearing around the south bend of the Heng Mountain.

Looking afar and chanting, and then looking downward and singing, I feel a sudden rush of ecstasy soaring up in me. The music of the pan pipe is like a gentle cool breeze. The soft singing lingers on; it is so soothing that even the passing white clouds seem to come to a halt. The gathering here can be compared to the banquet in the bamboo garden hosted by Prince of Xiao of the Liang State (13), and many a guest is a greater drinker than Tao Yuanming (14). It is also like the feast at River Ye where Cao Zhi (15) composed the poem in praise of the lotus flower. Present are many talented scholars who are as gifted as Xie lingyun of Linchuan (16). It is not an easy thing to have four excellent things all at once, that is, good weather, beautiful scenery, full enjoyment and heartfelt happiness, and it is even more difficult to have a generous host and honored guests. I look into the vast expanse of the sky and amuse myself to my heart’s content on this festive day. The sky is high and the land is boundless; I cannot but feel the immensity of the universe. Sadness follows happiness. I am aware that success and failure are predestined. I look into the distance, but Chang’an, the capital of the country, is far beyond the setting sun in the west, and Wuhui (17) is unapproachable somewhere amid the clouds. At the farthest end of the south are the depths of the South Sea, and far away in the north is the pillar that upholds the sky, but the Polestar is still farther. Since the mountains and passes are hard to travel over, who would sympathize with the disappointed ones? The people I meet here are all politically frustrated, drifting together like duckweeds. I pine for the Emperor but am not summoned. How long should I wait before I am called to the court again like Jia Yi (18)?

Alas! I am ill fated, and my life is full of frustrations. Feng Tang grew old quickly (19) and Li Guang had difficulty getting promoted (20). Jia Yi was unjustly exiled to Changsha. Was it because there was no wise emperor on the throne? Liang Hong had to seek refuge at the seaside (21). Was it because there was no good government in his time? Fortunately what supports one is the belief that a man of noble character always contented with his lot. Old as one is, he gains vigor with age and by no means wavers in his aspiration. Poor as one is, he is all the more determined in adversity and by no means gives up his ambition. One keeps his integrity even if he has drunk the water of the spring of Avarice (22) and is cheerful even is he is confronted with misfortune.Though the North Sea is far away, one can still get there with the help of the strong wind. Though the morning is gone, it is not too late to make up the loss in the evening. Meng Chang was noble and honest, but his devotion to the country was futile (23). Ruan Ji was unruly and untrammeled, but he burst out crying when in dire straits (24). How can we learn from him?

I am an insignificant scholar of a low official position and am of the same age as Zhong Jun (25), but unlike him, I have no opportunity to serve in the army. I will follow the example of Ban Chao (26), who threw aside the writing brush to enlist in the armed services and I admire Zong Que (27) who made up his mind to seek a military career by braving the wind and waves. I am determined not to accept the offer of a lifelong government position by wearing a hair dress and holding a tablet before the chest as court officials do. Rather, I will travel thousands of li to go home to wait on my parents, paying respect to them morning and evening. As a son I am not as good as Xie Xuan (28) but in my early years I had the fortune to have men of virtue as my neighbors. In a few days I will be with my father and I will take care of him and receive instructions from him as did Kong Li (29). On this day I have the honor to be invited by Governor Yan to this grand occasion. I am as blissful as if I had leaped over the Dragon’s Gate (30). Since I do not have someone like Yang Yi to recommend me (31), I can only sigh with grief and caress this piece of writing which expresses my lofty aspiration. Now that I have met a bosom friend like Zhong Ziqi (32), why should I be ashamed of presenting this writing of mine?

Ah! A beautiful scenic spot is rarely seen, and a sumptuous banquet like this one is even less likely to be held again. The grand gathering at the Orchid Pavilion (33) is an event in history and the famous Jinggu Garden (34)is now in ruins. I have the good fortune to attend this feast and I would like to leave this farewell message at the time of paring. I count on all the gentlemen here to ascend the tower and contribute their writings. I humbly compose this short piece in all sincerity. Since every one of us is required to write a poem, the following is what I write:

The lofty King Teng’s Tower overlooks the River. The jade pendants (35) tinkle, and the carriage bells jingle.

The banquet’s over, the guests are leaving, and the singing and the dancing have stopped.

In the morn the rosy clouds from the southern shore flit across the painted pillars.

In the eve the rain in the western mountains are drawn in by the red curtains.

The lazy clouds are reflected in the water and the days pass in leisure.

Things change and stars move; how many years have passed since the building of the Tower?

Where is its builder, King Teng? Only the River outside the railing flows to the east all by itself.

Notes:

(1)In old times the sky was divided into 28 constellations, and each constellation had influence on a certain area on the earth. Nanchang was under the influence of the Ye and the Zhen constellations.

(2)The Heng Mountain is located to the southwest of Nanchang and the Lu Mountain to its north.

(3)The three rivers are the Jing, the Song, and the Zhe rivers.

(4)In old times there was a piece of cloth in the upper part of along gown, with which people used to wrap things.

(5)The five lakes are the Tai, the Poyang, the Qingcao, the Danyang, and the Dongting lakes.

(6)The Jing area was the Chu area prior to the Qin Dynasty. It was less developed than the rest of the country.

(7)It now mainly refers to Zhejiang Province.

(8)The name of a kingdom during the Zhou Dynasty (1046B.C.- 256B.C.) , mainly referring to the east of Zhejiang Province, Jiangsu Province, and part of Anhui Province.

(9)It was said that during the Jin Dynasty, there appeared a purple vapor between the Niu and the Dou constellations. Later people discovered a precious sword in Hongzhou.

(10)Xu Ru was a poor scholar in the Eastern Han Dynasty. Despite poverty, he declined to be a government official. When Chen Fan was the prefect of Yuzhang County, he received no guests except Xu Ru, for whom a bed was always prepared in his home.

(11)It refers to Yuwen Jun, who was newly appointed as prefect of Lizhou.

(12)It refers to King Teng’s Power.

(13)Prince of Xiao of the Liang State of the Western Han Dynasty often entertained scholars in the bamboo garden by the Sui River.

(14)Tao Yuanming was the author of “Peach Blossom Spring”.

(15)Cao Cao and his son Cao Zhi often entertained guests by River Ye. Cao Zhi had written a poem in praise of the lotus flowers.

(16)Xie Lingyun was an official in Linchuan Prefecture, Jiangxi Province. Another interpretation is that Wang Xizhi is referred to here, because he was also an official in Linchuan.

(17)Wuhui is today’s City of Suzhou in Jiangsu Province.

(18)During the reign of Emperor Wen of the Han Dynasty, Jia Yi was exiled to Changsha and was called back to the court four years later.

(19)Feng Tang was an official of a low rank in the Han Dynasty. During the reign of Emperor Wu, he was recommended to a high-ranking official. But it was too late, as he was already over ninety and could no longer serve the emperor.

(20)Li Guang, a military man during the reign of Emperor Wu of the Han Dynasty. He had performed many military exploits but had never been fully rewarded.

(21)Liang Hong was a scholar during the Eastern Han Dynasty. He wrote a satirical song to criticize the noblemen and offended the emperor. He had to escape to the Qi and the Lu areas, which were near the sea.

(22)It was believed that on the outskirts of Guangzhou there was the Spring of Avarice. People became avaricious after drinking its water.

(23)Meng Chang was an upright official during the Eastern Han Dynasty, but he never got a high position.

(24)Ruan Ji was a scholar in the Wei and the Jin dynasties. He was angry with the rotten politics of his time and often went out in his carriage. When the road was blocked, he would cry and turn back.

(25)Zhong Jun was a young man living in the Western Han Dynasty. He made up his mind to capture the king of the enemy when he was about twenty years of age.

(26)Ban Chao was a scribe during the Eastern Han Dynasty. He later performed military exploits and was rewarded.

(27)Zong Que was a young man during the Southern Dynasty (420-589). When asked what he would do in the future, he answered that he would go to the front and “brave the wind and waves”. Later he became a general.

(28)Xie Xuan, a young man during the Eastern Jin Dynasty. His uncle praised him as “the treasure tree of the Xie family.”

(29)Kong Li was the son of Confucius.

(30)The Dragon’s Gate is a narrow pass in the shape of a gate in the Longmen Mountain where the Yellow River flows through. It was believed that if a carp leaped over the gate, it would turn into a dragon.

(31)Yang Deyi recommends Sima Xiangru, a great poet, to Emperor Wu of the Han Dynasty.

(32)Zhong Ziqi, a man living the Spring and Autumn Period. It was said that he was a master in playing the qin, a seven-stringed plucked musical instrument. Bo Ya regarded him as his bosom friend because he understood the music Bo Ya played.

(33)See “Prologue to the Collection of Poems Composed at the Orchid Pavilion”.

(34)See “Entertainment Given in the Peach and Plum Garden on a Spring Evening”.

(35)In old times people wore a jade pendant to the body and it gave a tinkling sound when the person moved.

#chinese literature #my notes #吊书袋的典范

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cashmeremars · 4 years

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𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞 𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐞 || 𝐥.𝐣𝐧

𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: jeno x fem!reader

𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: jeno has always been your best friend, but he’s been feeling certain feelings and doesn’t know what to do about it. he prepares a speech to present on a winter day. will you walk with him on his love line?

𝐠𝐞𝐧𝐫𝐞: fluff, non-idol!au, best friends to lovers

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 4k+

𝐚/𝐧: wrote this when i was 16 and it still makes my heart soft. this is also written in third person because it navigates how jeno feels about you rather than how you feel about him. i love jeno :(

“i want to walk with you on our love line”

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

The colour of love was delicate. The hushed pink tones emphasizing the softest features of one’s muse, shining a soft glow on the gaze of the eyes of one’s beloved. The colour of love was a warm glow on the flushed skin of an innocent blush. Although love accompanied the softest touches and warmest thoughts, the colour of love was dark. It sneaks up on you in your most vulnerable moments, taunting you, daring you to acknowledge it. The blush once seen as innocent becomes a nuisance as it accompanies a trembling voice and shaky hands. Love was almost too visible. It jumps out of one’s heart into the open to tease. Love was visible, but never to the one in which the love was directed to.

Nevertheless, he still tried. He tried to bury it in the darkest depths of his rose-coloured heart. He tried to hide the soft pink that glazed his cheeks whenever she smiled at him. He tried to hide the way his breath faltered whenever she looked up at him and he saw swirls of the milky way in her eyes. He tried to hide it all. Despite all of the mush that squirmed around in his subconscious, he didn’t know if what he was feeling really was love. The day Jeno had realized he was in love was the day that his heart was coloured with a blooming red.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

The pair had been out exploring the city when they spotted a duck pond on their way through a park. The girl cooed as she approached the pond, and Jeno quickly followed. Once they reached the pond the girl pulled a plastic bag from her backpack.

“What is that?” Jeno asked as he watched the girl in curiosity

“Bird seed” she replied nonchalantly as she shook it before opening it up

“Bird seed?” Jeno repeated

“Yeah” She smiled to herself as she reached into the bag and grabbed a handful of the bird seed.

“Do you always carry that around with you?” Jeno asked with a teasing laugh

“Of course. You never know who might need it” She smirked as she reached her hand out towards the ducks. A baby duck had approached the girl cautiously before it began eating from her hand. Jeno smiled as he watched her. She smiled brightly under the sun as the duck continued to eat her from her hand, quietly quacking when it had looked at her.

“Don’t ducks like bread?” Jeno asked as he kneeled down beside her

“Jeno, bread can really damage the health of ducks, you know?” she spoke as a piece of hair flew into her eye, causing her to squint up at him.

“Oh. Didn’t know, but thanks for telling me” Jeno laughed as he pushed some of his own hair out of his eyes.

The whistling wind and the running they had done had pushed their hair around immensely. Jeno averted his gaze to her reflection in the water; distorted, but beautiful. Her smile was still twinkling in the barely blue water. He found himself smiling to himself as she continued to feed the ducks. Then she turned her head to Jeno and laughed as the duck quacked, and when his eyes met hers, he felt as though his heart had spiralled onto the brink of uncharted territory. That’s when he knew. As fast as the clouds rolling in before a storm, he started to fall for the girl. He had been friends with her for years, but he found himself more drawn to her now than ever before. It was almost like everyday she revealed another part of her gracious heart, making him fall even harder. He found himself yearning to talk to her when they had spent days apart.

He tried to play it cool at first. He made sure that she never suspected a thing when he was around her. He wanted to keep his heart safe for as long as he could. At least until he was ready; and now, he was ready.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

Jeno continued pacing back and forth in his room as the clock read 2:45 am. The only light was from his softly lit lamp glowing on his nightstand. Jeno yawned for the third time that hour as he rubbed his eyes. He’d been awake for hours trying to come up with a speech that would capture all of his emotions the way he wanted them to. He’d never been nervous for anything as he was for this. She was his first love, and he wanted everything to be special for her.

The ping of Jeno’s phone had ripped his attention away from his dilemma, thrusting him back into reality. Jeno dragged his feet towards his nightstand and picked up his phone, lowering the brightness before checking the notification. Jeno’s heart pounded as his brain processed the current situation. It was her.

Hey, we’re still hanging out tomorrow right?

The text message read. It was a simple question, but Jeno being himself had begun to overthink. Why did she ask in the first place? Did something happen? Does she hate him now? Was there a miscommunication? Jeno’s fingers ghosted over his phone’s keyboard as he tried to think of a reply. His fingers stopped when he saw the three dots indicating ‘typing’ pop up.

Just wondering. Nothing’s wrong

It’s almost as if she read his mind. Jeno laughed quietly to himself before typing a simple “yeah” as a reply. He saw the three dots pop up again before a message appeared

Why are you even up? It’s almost 3 am

The message read. Jeno’s heart skipped a beat as his brain once again went into overdrive. How was he supposed to explain to his best friend that he was thinking of ways to confess his love for her? He typed up a quick ‘No particular reason. I was heading to bed anyways’ as he let out a deep sigh. He hoped the reply wasn’t too out of character, or at least not enough for her to question it. As he was lost in thought once again, he hadn’t realized that another message had popped up until he got under his covers.

Okay, well get a good night’s sleep. I already worry about you enough and I’d rather not have you fall asleep on my shoulder. Sometimes you drool :/

Jeno smiled to himself as he read the message. ‘I promise not to drool on you, but I will admit that I love sleeping on your shoulder’ Jeno replied. Another message popped up and Jeno snickered quietly

You look cute when you sleep on my shoulder but your head is also heavier than it should be. Now go to sleep so I don’t have to worry any longer. Goodnight <3

Jeno sent a simple ‘goodnight’ before locking his phone and laying his head down on his pillow. A smile graced his face as he recalled her message. He called her cute. Jeno’s heart jumped at the thought of being called cute by his best friend, and the idea of her worrying about him was touching. Jeno’s mind bounced back and forth as he continued to think about the girl. Words plagued his thoughts, waiting for the day he could mutter them to the girl. As he continued trying to form his speech, he whispered quietly to himself,

“I try to act cool, but I can’t hide my heart. I think I’m in love with you.”

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

As the days started to pass, Jeno found himself thinking about the girl even more than he previously had. The fact that she could possibly be his girlfriend had excited him to no end. It was what he dreamed about. Jeno thought about the way her nose wrinkled whenever she laughed, or the way her smile always reached her eyes, or the way her hands always found a place on his arm whenever she giggled. Her presence was one as cozy as warm vanilla, and he wanted nothing more than to be wrapped up in it. His heart bloomed with rose-coloured feelings of fondness. If this was love, he never wanted to go a day without it.

Jeno grabbed his jacket before zipping it up and picking up his backpack. He looked at himself once more in the mirror before pulling out his phone.

‘Leaving the house. See you soon :)’

Jeno sent the message before shoving his phone in his pocket and opening the front door. The crisp autumn air danced its way into Jeno’s lungs as he inhaled. Jeno sighed before putting on his hoodie and walking out of the house, locking the door behind him. Jeno could see his own breath as he made his way towards the bus stop. As he walked on the sidewalk, under the autumn trees, he couldn’t help but smile to himself. After today, love would colour him. Jeno continued to smile to himself as he approached the bus shelter. Jeno sighed again and watched as a puff of cold air floated in front of his face. The bus wouldn’t arrive for another 5 minutes. Jeno peered out into the neighbourhood as he heard the sound of laughter from afar. It was one that resembled the laugh of the girl. Jeno smiled to himself as he remembered the last time they were together.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

“Graveyards are always so crowded” Jeno spoke quietly. He glanced at the girl and smiled expectantly. They were currently sitting on the floor of her bedroom, nearly on top of each other as they tried to find ways to diminish their boredom.

“What?” The girl asked in confusion as she stared up at Jeno. Her fingers were currently entwined with his as she mindlessly played with them. Jeno was trying his best to act like he didn’t notice, although he had noticed, and the slight blush blooming on his cheeks was a giveaway.

“People must be dying to get in there” Jeno smirked. There was a beat of silence before the pair burst into laughter. She leaned on him as she tried to catch her breath

“Jeno, shut up” She spoke as she hit Jeno’s shoulder. Jeno held his arm in mock pain before he laughed again.

“You know people always talk about picking their noses, but I feel like I was just born with mine” Jeno laughed again.

“Ew, Jeno. That was really lame” The girl stifled a laugh as she rolled her eyes. Jeno’s face had gone red as he continued laughing.

“It wasn’t lame, it was hilarious. You just have a lame sense of humour.” Jeno defended himself as he leaned his head against the wall

“It wasn’t funny. You’re just boring” The girl spoke as she rested her head on the wall beside Jeno, placing her hands in his once again. It was simply platonic, but Jeno had always wished that it had meant more

“Sorry not all of us were born with Haechan’s humour” Jeno tilted his head to meet her eyes

“Maybe I don’t want you to be like Haechan” She smiled as she turned to face Jeno

“Really?” Jeno spoke as he raised his eyebrows, the smile never leaving his eyes

“Yeah.” She replied with a smirk “Besides, we all know Renjun is the funny one anyways” She spoke as she turned away from Jeno with a smirk.

“Shut up” Jeno chuckled as he pushed her shoulder lightly “You love my jokes” he continued before leaning his body on hers and placing his head on her shoulder, looking up at her expectantly.

“Maybe I do” The girl answered as she suppressed a smile

“Oh see! I knew you’d admit it. Now to boost my ego, tell me why you love my amazing humour” Jeno spoke as he lifted his head from the girl’s shoulder

“Love might be an overstatement, Jeno. But your jokes are so bad that it kinda gets amusing.” she sighed as she continued, “Maybe...you might be funny” she spoke with a sigh of defeat

“Funnier than Renjun and Haechan?” Jeno asked

“That’d be a lie. But if it counts for anything, I like you more than I like Renjun and Haechan” The girl said as she turned to look at Jeno once again. Their smiles were subtle as their eyes locked. Their faces were so close now. It would take just two seconds for Jeno to lean in, and kiss her. He could kiss her the way he’s been dreaming of for the past 2 years. But he couldn’t. He never did. So they looked at each other, their noses barely touching before one of them backed away. It had always been like this.

“Good. I like you too.” Jeno whispered as he felt his face growing red. Jeno could never forget the way they looked at each other that day. It was cliché, but he felt like the whole world revolved around them. They were the only thing that mattered in the moment. As his eyes continued to look into hers, he felt his heart flutter. If this was love, he never wanted to live without it. As the days continued to pass, Jeno found himself calling the girl a lot more often just to hear her honey-laced voice; a voice that could soothe him into a deep sleep. He wouldn’t know what he’d do without her.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

Jeno smiled to himself as he recalled that day. He looked around the bus shelter and focused his eyes on the frost patterns on the window as he tried to think of things to add to his speech. Jeno pulled out his notepad and huffed as he tapped his pen against the paper, trying to think of more sentences to add. Jeno sighed as he heard the bus from down the road. He was on his way to the girls house and he hadn’t felt prepared at all. Jeno stood up from the bench and quietly practiced his speech as he saw the bus drove closer. Jeno scribbled quickly on his notepad before shoving it back into his backpack and heading towards the parked bus.

“Your smile, your gestures, even the way you call my name. It all feels right.”

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

Just as Jeno stepped out of the bus shelter, he felt a wave of panic hit him. There was no turning back now, the bus would only bring him closer to the girl. Jeno dug in his pocket and pulled out his bus pass, showing it to the bus driver with a smile before he moved to the back of the bus where it was fairly empty.

Jeno carefully leaned his head on the cold window as he watched the houses zoom past in a blur. He was getting closer and closer to his destination, and the thought of it made his stomach churn. This was his one chance to say everything he felt. To let love colour his heart.

“I like you. No, wait- I love you. I think. It might be love. I’m not sure. Wait. No, it is love. It has to be. Okay let’s try again.” Jeno began to whisper to himself while mindlessly staring out the window. “Uhm, I’m in love with you - No that’s too forward isn’t it?” Jeno sighed to himself. “I like you as more than a friend, as in I like like you, like I like like you, like a lot-”

“Are you alright? You’ve been muttering to yourself since you got on the bus” Jeno looked up and saw an elderly man watching him from the seat on the other side of the aisle with a curious smirk. Jeno’s cheeks blossomed a faint red as he found himself blushing once more; this time for a different reason.

“Oh I was just practicing” Jeno spoke, flustered to have been caught talking to himself.

“Practicing what? You seem a little nervous there” The man raised his eyebrows as he chuckled

“Oh,” Jeno sighed before he continued, “I’m gonna confess my feelings to my friend. I like her a lot and I really want to make this special for her.”

“Oh, she’s a special girl, huh?”

“Yeah. I don’t wanna mess anything up, and I don’t know what I’ll do if she rejects me.” Jeno averted his gaze as he spoke the last few words, the thought of it being too humiliating to even imagine.

“From what I understand. You seem like a kind young man with a big heart. You’re talking to yourself in public like a crazy person all for this one girl. If you’re putting in all this effort, that means that you know she feels the same way, otherwise, you wouldn’t bother. You’ve got this, and you’d both be lucky to have each other.”

“Thank you.” Jeno smiled shyly at the man’s kind words.

“Why don’t you give me a line you’re planning to say to her” The man said as he slightly turned to face Jeno

“Right now?” Jeno questioned as he took a peak around the fairly empty bus

“Of course. Who knows when I’ll ever see you again” The old man chuckled reassuringly

“Okay,” Jeno sighed before he continued

“I secretly think about you all day. I wanna walk with you on our love line with our hands held. Tell me you feel the same way.”

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

The pair had left her house and had been wandering around the park for a while. The park was a place that sparked joy, even on the darkest days. As they walked down the path, Jeno couldn’t help but stare at the girl once again. The cool wind had left some of her hair wisped, and the moon had illuminated her features in the darkness, each moon beam gently reflecting against her skin. They’d been outside long enough for the clouds to turn into stars and the sun beams to turn into moon rays. The park was nearly empty. Under the midnight sky, it had only been the two of them in Jeno’s world. With their arms linked together they walked throughout the park.

“You’re staring” She spoke as they continued to walk

“I know” Jeno replied with sudden confidence

“Why?” She asked followed by a sniffle as they stopped in front of the pond they often spent their time at

“You look nice” Jeno smiled gently at the girl. The girl turned her head to look up at him and Jeno almost saw a twinkle in her eye

“Thanks” She smiled as she turned her head back towards the path, squeezing his arm slightly, while gently laying her head on his shoulder for a moment.

“You always look nice” Jeno spoke quietly. Despite how cold it was, Jeno felt his face heating up. He looked down at her and he was met with a slight silence.

“Are you alright, Jeno? You’ve kinda been in your own world for a while” The girl spoke after a while

“Yeah.” Jeno let out a breathy laugh as he took his hands out of his pocket “Just a lot on my mind” He gestured

“Like?” The girl raised her eyebrows as she urged him to continue

“Just-” Jeno sighed as he tried to form the words properly, “Stuff” Jeno furrowed his brows and let out a sigh at his own words. Stuff? He had spent days thinking of the right things to say to her, and now all of that effort had disappeared.

“Stuff? Jeno, you can tell me things, you know?” She replied with a reassuring smile

“I know I can. This is just complicated” Jeno sighed once again as he struggled to explain. His heart started beating faster once again. It was almost time for Jeno to tell her the truth. He’d been preparing for this moment for days, only now, he didn’t feel prepared at all.

“I like complicated things.” She smiled before she continued “Tell me.” As she placed her hand on his arm reassuringly, Jeno felt his breath hitch.

“I’ve been trying to tell you for a while, but it’s just a lot and I get nervous and I always forget” Jeno replied as he began to become frustrated with himself. He fiddled with his fingers and furrowed his brows as he tried to recall the words that had been plaguing his mind for days.

“Jeno, it’s fine. Look, it’s just you and me here now. If you embarrass yourself or anything, no one will ever know. I trust you, you trust me. It’s just you and I. No one else.” She replied as she gently placed her glove covered hands on his cheeks flushed with pink due to the cold. She was right. There was no one there but the two of them.

Jeno placed his hands over hers, still placed gently on his cheeks. He held them for a moment before moving both of their hands away from his face, but never letting go of hers. He squeezed her hands as he took a deep breath in. As he gazed into her eyes, Jeno began the speech he had been waiting so long to reveal to her.

“Under the same sky, looking at the same place, when I’m with you I can do anything. I try to act cool, but I can’t hide my heart. I think I’m in love with you. Your smile, your gestures, even the way you call my name. It all feels right. I secretly think about you all day.” Love was dangerous. It coloured hearts however it felt. Jeno had poured his heart out into the midnight air, hoping that his words would fill the heart of the one his words were directed to.

“I wanna walk with you on our love line with our hands held.”

As Jeno neared the end of his speech, he felt his heart blossom once more with the colour of love. A colour that once scared him was now a colour that he fully embraced. He stood in front of the girl in his full vulnerability, baring all of his feelings, his heart beating for her only. Jeno smiled as he spoke the last words.

“Tell me you feel the same way.” Jeno whispered shakily.

Love cannot be hidden. You can’t hide the lingering gazes, the unsteady breaths, the fluttering of the heart, or the longing touches. Cupid's arrow was on full display.

“Look in my eyes and tell me, so love can colour us.” Jeno whispered as he looked into the eyes of his beloved. Jeno felt at home; He felt safe and warm. She was his home. Standing in front of the girl, Jeno was filled with nothing but hope as he whispered one final testament of his heart-struck emotions into the midnight air, loud enough for the girl to hear.

Words were not exchanged as the girl leaned into Jeno. Their lips pressed together in a soft proclamation of their newfound feelings. The blooming, rose-colored red of romance had coloured their hearts. She slowly leaned back as the wind howled past their flushed faces.

“Wait, don’t pull away yet” Jeno whispered as their noses brushed against each other. Breathing lightly as his eyes flickered from her lips to her eyes he spoke once more, “I just want to look at you.”

Under the midnight sky, they would walk on their love line. With their hands held.

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

a/n: the ending lowkey made me wanna cry :(

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fuckingthefictional · 4 years

Text

All I want- Part 3

Pairing: Michael Gray x reader

All I want: masterlist

Warnings: mentioned suicide (Graces first husband), possible spelling mistakes and errors.

A/N- Thank you, Thank you, Thank You for the overwhelming support on this book- I’m so glad that you’re all enjoying it! Let me know if you want to be added to the taglist. Hope you’re all staying safe! Xx

Y/N remembered the first time she ever met Henry. They must’ve both been about 4 years old- it was strange really, he just sort of turned up in their tiny town.

It wasn’t every day that a sleek black car pulled up outside of your neighbours house, especially when the passenger was a small boy.

He had no belongings from what Y/N could make out - and it appeared that he was living with the Johnsons.

They were a kind couple, they always offered to help others in any way that they could.

Mrs Johnson ran Sunday school at the local church and and Johnson ran the local grocery shop- Y/N liked the kind old man because he snook her sweets over the counter.

But it was obvious that they both had a sadness around them-they always longed for a child of their own, and this blonde haired boy had to of been their chance of becoming parents.

Y/N remembered the first words that he ever spoke to her- he was shy, he was almost constantly behind Mrs Johnson’s figure only peering out as he spoke.

“This is for you.” He’d said before he then handed Y/N a bunch of daisies.

It didn’t take long for the two to become friends. As the two grew closer together, flowers became a communication of sorts.

If they’re had an argument- flowers were the peace treaty.

One of them had a bad day at the school house- a bunch of flowers acted as the perfect pick me up and a silent exchange of support.

And although it only happened once- If Henry wanted to confess his feelings for Y/N- then the flowers just deepened the meaning between the pair.

What could Y/N say even at the young age of four- she was a sucker for blonde boys and flowers.

“Duck!” An excited cry sounded from inside Matthew’s side of the double pram.

Looking down Y/N watched as her baby boy clapped and squealed excitedly at the prospect of seeing the birds on the pond.

It was difficult to get over the fact that Matthew was beginning to talk and understand the world around him a little bit more.

A part of Y/N wanted her baby to stay just that- a baby, a sweet, cherub faced infant.

She didn’t want him to grow up, but that was how life was. Y/N would make the most of her time with Matthew- creating memories for both of them to look back onto.

“Duck! Duck!” The baby’s chubby fingers pointed towards the duck pond.

“That’s right my darling- there are ducks, what does the duck say?”

“Quack!”

She laughed at his enthusiasm, she turned to Charlie who was chewing on his fist and looking up at the autumn leaves.

Y/N had been working for Tommy and Grace for almost 6 months now. It was safe to say that she enjoyed it and had the passion for the work that she did.

New York also never seemed to get old either- despite being in the city for over half a year she could always rely on the bustling streets, towering buildings and the constant hum of cars and traffic to excite and inspire her.

Things were also way more relaxed in the states, it was the jazz age- the age of liberation and Freedom from stereotypes that once held people in shackles.

Y/N was in shock at the amount of people in her social class that were accepting and happy at the prospect that she had a child.

Some even went as far to give her tips and tricks they had heard or used.

But despite her more than welcoming and kind experiences with Americans- it made Y/N miss her life in London even more.

She missed having tea and gossip sessions with Ada. Reading James’ latest articles and poems, watching Karl and Matthew play together happily. Y/N was even missing her old bed.

She’d just missed having familiarity around her, something that was difficult to come by in New York.

The young woman pushed these thoughts out of her mind, deciding that if she continued thinking about London any more- then she was only setting herself up for feeling terribly homesick later on.

Instead she kept her focus on the two boys in the pram, watching as they took in the world around them.

It didn’t take long for Y/N to circle back through the park, and end up back at the temporary Shelby residence.

When she opened the door however, her good mood was dampened. As she saw several stacks of trunks and suitcases lying by the door.

“Y/N,” Tommy was stood in the entrance to his office, “I need to talk to you.” He gestured to his office.

“Can I have fifteen minutes- to sort the children and settle them down for their nap?” The girl waited for a response, which came in the form of a short nod from her employer.

Y/N continued to walk down the hall, pushing the pram ahead of her as she did so.

When she entered the nursery, she closed the curtains. Casting shade and dimness across the room. The young woman began the routine of putting the boys to bed.

She cranked up the music box, allowing a soft melody to flow through the room- it never failed to soothe both babies.

And as the music succumbed to their senses, it wasn’t mere minutes until soft snores filled the room and both boys were fast asleep in their cribs.

Y/N wasted no time as she swiftly exited the room, making sure to close the door softly on her way out.

Knocking on Tommy’s office door, she waited until she could hear the older man invite her in.

As she heard a hum of confirmation, Y/N entered. Tommy was sat at his desk, a cigarette in his mouth, furiously scribbling what it seemed was a letter.

Y/N coughed, letting her presence be known, “You asked to see me Sir?”

“What did I tell you about that?” He said in a deadpanned voice.

She repeated the urge to roll her eyes, “That I should call you Tommy.”

“And...” He beckoned her on

“That Mrs Shelby-“ Tommy looked up at Y/N, eye brow raised, “Grace, is comfortable and happy with me calling her by her first name.”

Tommy nodded, “now that that’s been cleared up- I need to discuss some matters with you.”

Y/N felt her stomach lurch in panic, had she done something wrong? Was she about to be dismissed as Charles’s nanny?

“You might’ve noticed that our trunks are by the door. That’s because we are planning on moving back to England next week.” Tommy licked his lips, “You may have also noticed that Grace has been absent today.”

Y/N nodded, it was strange without the blonde Irishwoman. She always provided the apartment with a certain joy. It was no wonder the apartment felt emptier.

“That is because she’s attending her late husbands funeral.”

“Pardon?”

“Let it be known Y/N that I’m only entrusting you with this information because I trust you. I trust you as an employee, as someone who cares for my son and I trust you as a friend.” Tommy’s cold blue eyes pierced into her, “Grace’s was married to another man when Charlie was conceived- the man in question committed suicide after finding out that Grace had a child with me.”

“So why are we running?” Y/N questioned.

The Brummy chuckled, “I am aware of some family that Grace’s husband had strong ties to. Said family is apart of a strong gang here in New York- I’m taking the precaution of moving us all back to England in case Grace becomes a suspect in the death of her late husband. I’m willing to miss out on some potential business if it means that those I care about are slightly safer.”

“Who would’ve known,” Y/N chuckled, “Thomas Shelby has a heart.”

Taglist

@soleil-dor @redperson58 @xshinytrashcanx @peakyxtommy @staygold-bebold @peakascum @http-cherries @lovecatystuff

#peaky blinders #peakyblinders #peakyfookinblinder #peaky blinders x reader #peaky blinders imagine #peaky fucking blinders #michaelgrayxreader #michael gray x reader #micheal gray #michael gray #all i want

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starshineandbooks · 4 years

Text

Things are better if I stay...

word count: 4,105

Title from Helena by My Chemical Romance

Ao3

Warnings: MAJOR CHARTER DEATH! Angst, dealing with the death, after life, trauma, blood, gore, attempted murder, accidental murder, successful murder, Murderous! Virgil (He isn’t the killer) LOGAN ANGST! Fuck it, everyone hurts. Also not beta read

Pairings: LAMP, Thomas/Harley (Heart)

For @tulipscomeinallsortsofcolors‘ Laoft au LOGAN ANGST

Summary: A coup gone wrong ends Logan’s life early, even by human standards, he dies and his loved ones are left to pick up the pieces.

AKA: I got sad so I took my emotional support character from not only the fandom but the LAOFT AU specificaly, and killed him. Oops.

Logan wasn’t supposed to be there, he never was. It was meant for his husband, for Virgil. A plan made by drunken faeries to throw a coup, and try to over through Virgil.

Virgil who was at home with their daughter. Virgil who was the faerie prince. Virgil who would later be very very murderous.

Logan strides through the door of the faerie hill,making sure he has everything in his satchel, eyes falling to the crunching leaves under foot. He sighs, the autumn air chilly this evening, just this side of unpleasant.

The next time Logan has to go and get Bell’s lesbian out of trouble he’ll have to have a real coming to Jesus with Bell. Logan shakes the thought from his mind, he must be spending too much time with May.

“Help!” A voice calls, and Logan goes still.

Logan is not delusional, he is still in a decidedly Fae part of the woods, and voices from an unseen source are definitely not to be trustable.

“HELP ME!” It rings again.

A second voice sounds, “No, you’ll draw attention.”

The second voice sounds like that of an injured man.

Logan swallows, he can’t leave them here. The voices, they’re those of his mortal husbands. Logan could never just leave them there.

Logan has never been very good at rationing things when he is distressed for a loved one.

He doesn't care, he runs to the right suddenly, following the calls for help that are in Patton’s voice, broken and brittle like glass shards. Scared, almost as chilling as when he’d been confronted with the Roman the serpent king owned, the night Roman.

Logan doesn't feel the first arrow until the second one is hitting.

Each arrow goes to his chest, hitting vital organs, and making him bleed entirely too much. He feels each arrow, fifteen in total, hit him, piercing through his skin and muscles, flowers growing from his wounds and hurting him further.

Logan crumples and hears an exchange of words that worry him.

“Oh fuck- That’s snowmelt! Oh we are so dead!”

“You are so dead, I didn’t shoot the arrows.”

“That won’t matter when the witch hears about it.”

Logan swallows hard, eyes glazing over and heart racing, what if they get Virgil next?

“Virg-” HIs throat is too full of sharp bloody shards of pain to continue.

“Logan?!” Virgil calls, appearing, it’s pretty hard for the magic in Logan’s bracelet to not let Virgil know of Logan’s condition.

Virgil scans the area just long enough to feel terrified before he looks to the ground and feels something far, far more potent than the terror of a few seconds before.

“Logan- This- This isn’t funny! Come on, get up! Get up, get up you- you- you incredibly wonderful man, get up!” Virgil shrieks, knees feeling weaker than they have in years.

“Get up.”

Logan swallows hard and manages, “I would like that very much, yes.”

“Then get up!”

“It seems as though I cannot at the moment, darling.” Logan coughs hard, lungs rattling and blood coming to splatter his face and arm as Logan tries to cover his mouth.

“Logan,” Virgil says, sinking to his knees in a surly undignified matter.

Not that Virgil could care in even the slightest with Logan bleeding out on the forest floor, in front of him no less. This isn’t right. This isn’t okay. Nothing is okay and he’s going to lose Logan isn’t he?

What is he going to tell PAtton and Roman? Kai, Sloane, Remy, Emilie, everyone else? What will he tell Linda? Or Dot and LArry?

God, what will he tell Thomas?

“Pretty stars tonight,” Logan rasps, eyes falling from the sky back to Virgil, “darling?”

“Yeah,” Virgil nods, he’ll alway agree with his husbands.

But right now Logan could say he’d never loved Virgil, and wanted to marry the serpent king but married Virgil to spite the unseelie, and that Logan had never loved anyone, and that Virgil deserved to be tortured, and Virgil would agree. Virgil would agree to anything.

“Don’t be sad, love.” Logan says weakly, reaching for Virgil.

Except that.

How could Virgil ever possibly not be sad over this?!

“Logan,” Virgil sobs, eyesight blurring at an alarming rate. But he takes Logan’s hand between his own two gently, “Logan don’t, I can get us to May.”

Virgil focuses everything he has on taking Logan to May, the shadows closing in around them, he won’t lose Logan too. Never, Logan isn’t- Logan’s not even old enough to die by human standards!

A startled shriek from Patton on the couch followed by a gasp and a call for mAy in about three voices.

Virgil’s own, if anyone was really listening, was distorting and turning decidedly non human, and much more eldritch horror-y than not.

“Shhh,” Logan shushes, “Don’t -Linny’s asleep.”

Virgil snaps back around to give Logan a very dirty look, how dare Logan shush him when Logan is literally dying. Oh god, Logan is dying- this isn’t right. Nothing is right-

“Everyone get the hell away from Logan.” May snaps, stomping forward with a black bag with pastel paisley embroidered on it and her duck slippers.

Virgil growls low, in the back of his throat, and not even he is sure what the sound most resembles.

May stares at Logan and she shakes her head with a sigh, “Logan, baby, why on God’s green earth would ya decided to become target in target practice, ya mongrel!? Are ya tryin’ ta kill me early?”

Logan stares just a little more blank than anyone would like at May’s face, “Nana-”

“Don’t you dare start some goodbye speech.”

And as if the moment could not get any worse, as if the universe hadn’t just done the not only unthinkable, but the also unforgivable by promising Logan chronic pain if not death, banshee shrieking starts up in the yard.

The snarl that leaves Roman as he drags Patton into the yard is much more threatening than Virgil thinks he’s ever heard.

“‘M sorry.” Logan rasps, a gurgle following before he swallows as hard as he can, “nd I love you, and all o’ them. Don’- d-”

“Logan don’t you dare,” May snaps wetly, “Don’t you dare! Just hold on!”

She sets a hand on his shoulder and starts digging through her bag hastily with the other.

“Don’ let them be too sa-”

“Logan, I’ll kill you if you do this.” She growls, pulling a bottle from the bag and opening it quickly before doing her level best to get it down Logan’s throat.

Logan swallows the liquid as best he can around the lack of control over his muscles he has going on. His eyes fall to Virgil’s, trying to plead Virgil to do something. To ease the pain.

And what Virgil wouldn’t do for those quick silver eyes.

“Have I told you about how I love you? Well, I’ll tell you again.” Virgil’s voice starts to lessen in distortion and grows more and more alike to the moon breaching the broken ice of a pond.

Logan’s breathing becomes more and more shallow, and even harder to keep up. His lungs rattle with every breath now, and his blood collects in his throat.

And Virgil talks, he isn’t quite sure what he’s saying, and from the looks of it, neither is Logan. May has turned her back on them, oddly quiet.

Then, “Vatti?”

A small voice, a girl’s voice. Linda’s voice.

As if shocked, Logan tries to get to see his baby one last time, figure out why she sounds so broken.

Linda slowly steps forward, “VAtti, what- Is he-”

“Go upstairs, Linny.” May says, voice making Virgil think on those spiky balls from the trees everyone uses around christmas, sometimes called a witch burr, but as miserable as wet socks.

“Mamaw-”

“Upstairs Linda Marie.”

Linda casts a look to Logan and chokes, “Papa-”

“He loves ya, now go upstairs.”

“Mamaw-”

“Now. One.”

“But-”

“Two, Miss Linny I’ll tan yer hide if ya make me get ta three.”

“I love you papa,” Linda says before running upstairs to try to pray this all into some twisted, dark, horrendous nightmare.

Virgil looks down just in time to watch the life and fight leave Logan’s eyes, and oh, that’s a rather dull look in those eyes. Isn’t it?

“What’ll we tell Thomas?” Virgil asks after a pause of who knows how long, but more than he could bear.

“The truth, I’d imagine.”

“You want to tell Logan that his brother was murdered in cold blood in the middle of faerie?” Virgil growls, then growls lower, “He was killed in the middle of my land.”

“So he was.”

“I have business as soon as we finish telling the others.” Virgil sneers, “Someone is going to answer for all of this.”

May turns after a moment, “You won’t be going alone.”

“We’ll see you hag.”

“Shuddup.” May scoffs.

And if the two are teary or maybe even crying, neither says anything, just this once.

----------

Virgil doesn't know when Patton and Roman came in, only that he hadn’t gone to bed yet. Having instead opted to sit in Logan’s garden, out back.

“Virgil?” Roman asks after a moment, sitting on the ground beside his husband. “Did- Was he in pain-”

Virgil snorts, “No, he was only murdered and shot full of arrows, he wasn’t in-” Virgil promptly shuts his mouth before sighs, “I- I am sorry. That was cruel.”

“Just- just a little, sweetie.” Patton ists on Virgil’s otherside, and Virgil isn’t sure when that happened either.

“We have to tell the others, his parents. We have to tell Thomas,” Virgil croaks, “How are we meant to tell Thomas?”

“Linda said she saw him.” Roman supplies, “So, uh, there’s that.”

Virgil forces himself to look at Roman, and he nearly screams when he sees the look upon Roman’s face. Whether in protective rage or broken sobs, Virgil’s isn’t sure, so he bites it back.

“He uh- God!” Virgil mutters something unkind under his breath about himself and words before managing, “He said we shouldn’t be sad. What the fuck does that mean?!”

Patton gives a laugh, and the underlying tone of a glass bell breaking as it rings isn’t unnoticed by Virgil. Virgil turns his head to see Patton and that was also a bad choice. It seems Virgil is only capable of making incredibly, spectacularly horrid decisions tonight.

“Just like him,” Roman shakes his head, setting his hands palm down on his knees and squeezing, “always so dismissive of his own worth!”

A thick, suffocating, decidedly sharp silence settles over the three. None of them quite touch the others, but they all want to.

To everyone’s surprise, it’s Mamaw who breaks the silence by walking into the backyard. Hands on her hips, “It’s three thirty in the morning, get yer asses in bed. This ain’t gonna be an easy recovery but we all know Logan’d have our hides if we let it tear us apart.”

“Mamaw,” Roman croaks weakly, turning to see his grandmother, “You can’t mean-”

“I mean what I said, Roman. Get yourselves in the house, or the faerie hill or somewhere else, but ya better sleep. We’re all going over to the Sanders house as soon as the sun comes up, because tonight’s a full moon and I am not going ta loose more o’ ya.”

“We should go there now.” PAtton says softly, “They’ll be angry if we put it off.”

“But-”

“I’ll go.” Virgil pushes to his feet, eyes finding the moon, not technically full, tomorrow night it will be though.

“Virgil-”

Virgil turns to face the humans, his humans, “You could come, if you like. I would not blame you if you stayed though.”

“We-”

“You two are decidedly human, yer stayin’ right here.” May says sharply, “and Virgil will be back by breakfast.”

“Yes, by breakfast.” Virgil says, though he isn’t sure when it is, or whether it will be this particular breakfast.

May nods, corralling PAtton and Roman into the house, and onto the couch, because she isn’t fool enough to think they’d sleep in the bed all four shared. Three now.

----------

Thomas shrieked when Virgil appeared in his bedroom, waking a worried Harley with said shriek.

“Oh- goodness! Virgil-”

“I didn’t mean to come to this room.” Virgil whispers softly, “I’m sorry.”

“It’s fine, force of habit, I mean, Logan used to share this room with me and-”

Virgil gives a choked sob at his husband’s name.

“Is Logan sick or something?” Thomas staggers out of bed quickly, grabbing a shirt from the floor.

“They-” Virgil shakes his head, “He’s dead. Dead, dead, dead.”

Thomas goes silent and Harley mutters a curse word.

“Well, I suppose we’d better go downstairs then.” Thomas sighs, shaking his head, “And, you’re sure he’s y’know, gone?”

Virgil gives an indignant sound, “As if I didn’t watch it happen.”

“Okay.” Thomas walks to stand by Virgil, and he just pulls the taller man into a hug, “It’ll be okay.”

“How are you so-”

“Calm?” Thomas gives a laugh, “I'm not awake and haven’t processed it yet, give me a bit.”

“O-oh.”

“I’ll go get- uh- yeah.” Harley finishes lamely, striding out of the room.

Brian rushes into the room, “Linda’s upset, she said-”

“I heard,” Thomas sighs, “Brian it’s threey forty ish, why’re you even awake?”

“Had a nightmare, ‘nd I didn’t wanna bother anyone, but kitty’s always there.”

Virgil sighs, finally wrapping Thomas up in a hug. “I’m sorry.”

“It wasn’t your fault.”

“You can’t know that!”

“I do. You’d never hurt any of them, let alone kill.” Thomas says thickly, “”mon then, we’d better go tell mom and dad.”

“I’m still sorry.”

Virgil is led downstairs and sat on the couch, in Logan’s spot on the couch. And if that doesn't just make him want to scream, cry, or through a tantrum he isn’t sure what does.

He is vaguely aware of voices, and a conversation happening, but he couldn’t tell you who was speaking or what was being said.

“Virgil,” Logan’s voice insists urgently, and he knows it’s just his mind being cruel. Logan can’t be here, Logan’s gone.

“Virgil!” Thomas says louder, setting a hand on his shoulder, “Hey bud- we uh-”

“We- was he in pain.”

Virgil just nods slowly, “Uh- yeah, arrows do that.”

“He was-” Dot swallows hard.

“Y-yeah. Well, I should go. I’m sorry I don’t uhm- I don’t wanna intrude-”

“You can stay.” LArry offers weakly, “You’re family.”

“I have business to attend to.” Virgil says finally, “The sooner I start the sooner the bastards that killed him are found.”

“O-oh.”

“Hey uhm��.” Thomas sighs before he just goes for it, “You’re family Virgil, don’t disappear on us. Please. And don’t you dare disappear on your daughter and husbands.”

“But-”

“You better come back on friday, we’ll have a big family dinner, all the gang.”

“But.”

“You’ll be here.” Thomas says, “And you’ll do it.”

“Thomas-”

“Go home, see your husbands.” Harley says finally, “It’ll do you some good.”

Virgil looks to Harley, startled, “But-”

“Go.”

----------

Virgil appears in the kitchen to his own house after a stop to demand Bell and white to start an investigation. It involved Bell and WHite berating him for abandoning the living husbands.

Virgil finds Patton and Roman on the couch, tangled to gether. Tear tracks staining their faces, but their breathing deep and even, they’re asleep.

Virgil goes about lifting them, and carrying them to the guest room, curled together and clinging to each other in his arms.

He sets them on the bed and sits on the edge, he won’t be sleeping tonight, or maybe ever again.

Linda stands in the doorway, “Vatti?”

Virgil turns, he’s never been good at ignoring, let alone denying his daughter anything, especially such a thing as comfort.

“C’mere liebling.” Virgil says gently, holding his arms out.

Linda rushes forward, burying herself in Virgil’s arms and chest, clambering into his lap. Virgil hugs her as tight as he can while she still breathes.

“Vatti, I- Will he come back like Gretta did?”

“No.” Virgil says, “No.”

“Oh. Good. But uhm…. Are you all going to leave too?”

“No liebling.” Virgil says, “I would never leave you.”

“But- what about daddy and pop?”

“Oh, liebling,” Virgil hums gently, “Not on purpose. But they’re human, they’ll die eventually. You and I will still be here though.”

“O-oh.” Linda says weakly, “But why-” she cuts off and a sob wracks her body.

“Because liebling, life isn’t fair.” Virgil says, not quite sure what she was going to ask but knowing it wasn’t about to be pleasant.

“I hate this.” She whispers, “It’s- it’s- it’s atrocious.”

Virgil gives a cut off sob at her choice of words, “Oh liebling, you’ll be the smartest one in the family as you get older.”

“Don’t wanna be the smartest, I want my papa.” She says petulantly.

“I know.” Virgil says gently. “I know.”

----------

Logan wakes up. To his surprise, in no pain and under a blue sky with those puffy white clouds. A large dog barks excitedly at him, so he pushes to his feet and tilts his head, watching the creature.

It barks again, turning tail and running to the edge of a tree line before turning to bark once more. Ah, Logan supposes he’s meant to follow the dog?

Logan shrugs, then laughs at himself, no one is around to see such a slip of self control after all. He follows the dog, noting the trees to be apple trees.

As the dog leads him he finds himself wondering where his husbands are and- oh. Yes. He is dead then?

He looks up to a startled gasp, finding a woman with inky hair and her hands on her hips.

“Logan Sanders.” She snaps, cuffing the back of his head, “You left them?!”

“I didn’t mean to.” Logan says, rubbing the back of his head in an attempt to soothe it, “Who are you and why did you hit me?”

“You’re a moron, you know that?!” The woman scoffs, “Askin’ who I am, if Virgil didn’t-”

“You’d be Gretta then.” Logan snorts, “You look better than last time I saw you.”

“I’d hope.” She crosses her arms stiffly, glaring at Logan.

Logan sighs, “He uhm…. Virgil misses you still. A lot, and as someone who ate your biscuit recipe product, may I just ask, do you know how spices work?”

Greta scoffs, “If it ain’t broke ya don’t fix it! Yer insufferable.”

Logan shakes his head, “I am sorry it was rude to say that I suppose I’ve spent too much time with Kai and Virgil.”

“It’s fine, Logan.” Gretta shrugs, “I figure I have eternity to make you like my cooking.”

“I see. Yes, I suppose so. But first, if I truly am dead, I think I have a snake to slap.”

“What?”

“I am less and less fond of the snake king every time Roman reveals another bit of past, I wish to slap the bastard out of the usurper.”

“Oh.” Gretta blinks, a cheshire grin spreading over her lips, “Let me get Trudi and we’ll all go with ya.”

“Very well.” Logan nods, eyes observing the people in the distance.

“I think,” Gretta says, “This is the start of a wonderfully elaborate prank on my brother. Don’t you?”

“Maybe.”

“Well, c’mon, we’d better hurry up, I know Abbey’ll wanna see you. Not sure why, you aren’t nearly as pretty as Virgil was, but he wasn’t shit either.”

Logan laughs softly, “Oh, you’re a little softer than he said-”

Gretta cuffs the back of his head again, “Shut up ya overgrown pixie.”

“O-oh.” Logan freezes, ‘Oh god Virgil- I left them. All of them- Thomas, my husbands, my parents, my friends.”

“Oh, yes, crying fixes it.”

Logan grabs Gretta’s wrist tightly, “No, you don’t get it. I left all of them, but I also left my baby. She is ten. My ten year old daughter saw me just as I was dying.”

“Oh.” Gretta blinks, “That’s uhm- Let’s go get Abbey, she’ll be better equipped for emotions.”

“I just want to go home!” Logan snaps, “Please?!”

“Ya can’t, Logan. Yer here now.”

“Thanks, I hate it.” Logan croaks, his voice cracking like thin ice over a lake, and he plunges into the darkness below.

“Oh- ABIGAIL GAUGE!”

“YEAH?!”

“C’MERE WOULD YA?! LOGAN’S HERE EARLY AND HAVING A PITY PARTY AND I CAIN’T HELP ‘IM!” Gretta calls, flinching as Logan collapses into her.

She awkwardly wraps her arms around him, patting him stiffly, “There there. Strange faerie I don’t know well who’s sobbin’ inta my shirt.”

“Virgil used to talk like that.” Logan says miserably, “I miss him.”

“Ah, I know, little gremlin weaves his way into your heart and then you lose him.” Gretta mutters, “C’mon Logan you can’t mean to cry forever.”

“I might.” Logan petulantly mumbles.

“Logan, baby, that you?” A second woman’s voice sounds, “God, you’re bigger than I remember for sure.”

Logan turns slowly, finding a fiery redhead, “Who- Who are you?”

“I go by Abbey,” She shrugs, “I’m Roman’s mom.”

“Mom and dad talked about you sometimes.”

“Ye-ah, well, I talk about them sometimes too.” Abbey holds a hand out, “C’mon baby, we’ll get you settled and calmed down, then we can go wherever you like.”

Logan takes Abbey’s hand, flinging his arms around her, feeling an oddly deep connection he didn’t know existed with this woman who looks just enough like Roman to hurt.

And maybe it takes Logan a while to settle, sometimes it still hurts. But he does end up slapping Durrant, multiple times, Gretta, Trudi, and Abbey also join the slapping the bastard out of Durrant party.

Virgil sees the poor faeries who killed Logan to a public execution. But it doesn't do anything to fix the ache Logan’s loss created. He’s more protective of his loved ones, each and every one of them. Especially Linda.

Linda who may not look like Logan, but shares in the ability to grow plants. Linda who has taken up the habit of reading herself to sleep with dictionaries. Linda, who will outlive Virgil, god willing that is.

Patton heals slowly, they all do, but Patton lost not only his husband, but his very first friend. Patton lost the man who he did his first play date with. Patton lost a lot when Logan left them, but he healed slowly.

Roman becomes more reckless at first, he couldn’t care less, if he dies he can see Logan again. He eventually, through therapy Emilie provides -who else?- realizes that he still has so much to live for. It gets a little easier, but Roman internalizes it, that two men he’s loved dead, what if Patton aor Virgil is next?

Virgil, Patton, and Roman’s marriage is strained at first. They still love each other, and that would never change, but the dynamic changed. They were mourning, and breaking, and not talking about it. Again. After a year and Linda sobbing and asking if they’re going to break up and leave her too, they go to counseling, which, helps. It isn’t perfect, and they’ll alway be missing their last piece, they won’t be whole. But, they’re better, they’re marriage isn’t strained.

Thomas withdrew from the world, only really talking to Harley and Brian. He lost his best friend in the whole world, his barley younger but still baby, brother. He lost his partner in crime, his childhood memory. Now Thomas only knows half of everything, where as before Thomas knew half of everything, so did Logan, so they knew everything.

May got crankier. May lost another kid she’d loved to a horrible accident. Another kid she couldn’t save. May lives in the past for a while, but she knows the drill, she’s probably the best prepared.

Dot and Larry stop going in public when avoidable. They cry together, and the gp to therapy. They lost their child, and so much more. They lost not just Logan, but almost Thomas too.

Kai doesn't make fun of Logan anymore, he misses the nerd.

Sloane and Corbin try to keep Thomas company when they can, but they all have lives of their own.

Elliot spends a lot of time with Virgil, maybe they weren’t as close to Logan, but they did count him a friend.

Remy and Emilie while they mourn and definitely are a little strained and weary, they make sure the others have groceries and therapy. They do their level best to help the others when they can.

#sanders sides #laoft #major character death #blood #arrows #gore #after life #sanders sides angst #DEAD! Logan Sanders #romantic lamp

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pidayforpi · 4 years

Text

Brother’s Sentiment

“Abner...why did you come all the way here?”

“Mr Whitewater Duck, a mail for ya.”

Abner “Whitewater” Duck had never been fond of his family. That’s why he chose to live alone, in a rural small town, instead of the bustling metropolis of Duckburg. He never showed up in any family gathering, nor sent his family a letter or a card. Abner was a loner, and he loved it that way.

The other Ducks had also learned not to disturb their lumberjack relative. They wouldn’t send a letter without a reply letter. They wouldn’t give an invitation only to be rejected or outright ignored. They knew Abner was a loner, and they knew he loved it that way.

But when the local postman handed him a letter sent directly from Duckburg by air, he knew he probably should read it before burning it in the campfire.

“The rich geezer or the broke bloke?” Jay questioned the confused duck. The blue jay bird only knew Scrooge and Donald, the only two relatives to have visited Abner in his faraway town. Abner actually guessed the sender to be one of them. But he was wrong. It was from someone he didn’t know.

“From Hubert and Dewford Duck.”

“Dear Cousin Abner,

Your brother would like to see you. Please come to Duckburg as soon as possible. Meet us at the McDuck Manor.

Love, Your Cousins Huey and Dewey Duck”

“Woo...Someone’s getting high-class...” Jay slyly commented, before receiving a shove from his friend. “Hey! Do you read your clients’ letters?!” Jay let out a chuckle while fixing his postman hat.

“Anyway, it seems like your lil’ bro is dying to meet ya. You should probably go-“ Jay stopped when he noticed the usually loud Abner had gone silent all of a sudden, his eyes covered by the brim of his hat.

“Need me to help send a reply, Whitewater?” Jay quietly uttered, confused and a bit scared by his friend’s unusual meekness. Abner sniffed softly, adjusting his hat with one hand and picking up his axe with another.

“No need. I will give them my reply in person.”

———————————————————

Abner felt like Duckburg hadn’t changed much. Autumn in Duckburg was gloomy as usual, or so he thought. He had not been to the city for half a decade.

Fethry was the only reason for him to go to the city. His younger brother was the only one in the family - and in his social circle - that Abner cared about. Fethry had always been the oddball of the family: He was not as thoughtful as Donald, not as brave as Della, not as lucky as Gladstone, not as helpful as Gus, not as creative as Kildare...

While Donald and Della were out adventuring, Gladstone was non-busily finding $20 notes on the ground, Gus was helping Grandma Duck (and himself) at her bakery, and Kildare was painting the town red (literally)...

Fethry was just lounging by the pond, daydreaming. At the end of a long lumberjack training day, Abner always joined his little brother by the same old pond, watching him look up to the crimson sky, look down to the bottom of the water. The brothers just silently lay down on the ground, until the orange sky faded to black, and Abner held his sibling’s hand as they walked back home under the starry sky.

Abner knew that Fethry, unlike himself, was never a loner. Fethry enjoyed company. Fethry yearned to be recognised. To be appreciated and be of use to others. Yet, being the anomaly of the bunch, talentless and a slow-learner, Fethry had nothing to offer.

“Not even our family give him a place to be in...” That might be one of the reasons Abner never felt the need to bond with his family.

Abner ignored the light mid-autumn rain, and walked down the streets to his uncle’s place with his brown hat covering his head. It was noon in Duckburg, yet the roads seemed lifeless and sad in the shower.

Abner picked up his pace, lest the shower became a downpour. He buttoned up his leather jacket, and hurried to the manor overlooking the city.

(7-3-2020)

———————————————————

“Pst...!Over here, Cousin...err...”

Despite not hearing his name, the voice of a child caught Abner’s attention. He turned to his right, and saw two young ducks hiding next to a bush.

“Dewey, you signed the letter. It’s Cousin Abner.” The duck with a red cap reminded his younger brother, who’s dressed in blue.

“You said it. I ‘signed’ the letter, only.” Dewey retaliated. Huey only rolled his eyes, and motioned Abner to come to them.

“Good afternoon, Cousin Abner. I am Huey Duck, and this is Dewey. Nice to meet you.” The duck in red politely introduced himself and his brother, and bowed his head.

“Yeah...umm...we sent you the letter. Did you...receive it...?” Dewey awkwardly asked while looking at his feet, avoiding Abner’s fierce eye contact.

“Why would I be here, otherwise?” Abner asked sarcastically. Abner would have been shouting at his nephews for their lack of common sense, and somehow attributing it to their city lifestyle.

But not when the two kids were the only clues he had to his little brother.

Dewey sulked after realising his mistake, while Huey swiftly cut in to break the weird atmosphere. “Long story short, Cousin Fethry wanted to see you.”

“...and he’s apparently your little brother...” Added Dewey, face still red with embarrassment.

Abner let out a slight sigh. “Lead me to him then. Will your ‘dear’ Uncle Scrooge give you a limousine ride?”

Dewey quickly put a finger on Abner’s beak with a quiet “shh”. After dramatically looking around like a criminal on the run, Dewey explained to Abner, “Please don’t tell Uncle Scrooge about this visit. Don’t even let him see you, no matter how much you want to meet him.” They obviously knew nothing about Abner.

“Uncle Scrooge doesn’t know about our invitation. He doesn’t even want us to visit Cousin Fethry again.” Huey added, his smile faded.

“Why?” Abner questioned, confused how their loving Uncle Scrooge would separate his family members from one another.

Huey, now grimly held his head down, stated, “Uncle Scrooge didn’t want Cousin Fethry to leave the underwater laboratory.” Abner was shocked, but stayed silent for the duckling to continue.

“Dewey and I visited Cousin Fethry a month ago. We answered his...call. Launchpad took us, without telling Uncle Donald or Scrooge, to the underwater laboratory according to the coordinates Cousin Fethry had given us. Together we went on an adventure to the depth of the ocean.”

“We met his team - which was just a bunch of glowing krill, by the way - and went scuba-diving...above undersea volcanoes! 3000 meters below the sea surface, facing scalding dreams of 400 degree Celsius...Oh, and he told us not to drink seawater. Duh.” Dewey cut in, adding in the details of their adventures, unaware of Abner and Huey’s lack of interest.

“Yes. But after getting back up to the surface, we were...well, caught. Uncle Scrooge was there at the lighthouse, the entrance of the laboratory. We were excited to share with him our adventure, when Uncle Scrooge just urged us into Launchpad’s ship. When Fethry was about to come along, Scrooge...”

Huey paused for a moment, still unable to believe the things he was about to say. “...he hit Fethry with his cane. Hard. And slammed the ship door on him. We left, under the order of Uncle Scrooge, while Cousin Fethry was still on the platform of the lighthouse, holding his right hand in pain.”

“The trip back to land was painfully quiet, but once we were back at the Manor, we couldn’t help but confront Scrooge about his actions.” Dewey said, trembling with anger. “‘He nearly got you lads killed!’ was the only reason Scrooge gave us. When we asked him why Fethry was not allowed to come with us, he just said that doesn’t concern us...”

Dewey bit his lips lightly, whispering just loud enough for Abner to hear. “As if a member of our family being trapped underwater by another member of our family for 4.5 years doesn’t concern us...”

“Fe-Fethry has been there for four...four and a half years...?” Abner’s eyes were wide open, blinking occasionally to hold back tears.

“...Yes. Uncle Scrooge never allowed him to leave the laboratory. Cousin Fethry only survived on fish and self-purified seawater. His only form of communication with the outside world was a tin-can-and-string phone, with one of the cans connected to Scrooge’s office. Cousin Fethry was ignored nonetheless, and we were the first ones to answer his call.” Huey continued.

“And the last call he gave us was about his wish to see you. He gave us the address to your town, and asked us to send a letter to you. That’s why you are here.”

A dead silence followed as the three ducks said nothing for a minute.

Abner eventually broke the silence with a question. “Why would Scrooge want to trap Fethry underseas for four and a half years?” Kildare he might understand, but why Fethry? Why the innocent, naive Fethry Duck?

“I guess you will have to find it out yourself, Cousin.” Dewey answered with a shrug. “Here are the coordinates to the McDuck Sub-lab. Launchpad won’t be able to drive you there, so you might have to hire a boat or swim there.” Dewey took out his phone to show Abner the coordinates. “You want a pen and a piece of paper to write it down?”

Abner took out his own phone, which very much surprised his cousins. “You know, living in the countryside doesn’t mean living in a cave.” Abner showed Dewey his phone number. “Send it to me through SMS.”

(8-3-2020)

———————————————————————————————

“Alrighty.”

Abner quickly searched the location of the coordinates. It really was in the middle of the ocean.

“May I ask...how would you plan to go there?” Huey asked, prompting Abner to look up from his phone. “Uncle Donald probably knows a few sailors...Probably.”

“I can manage it.” Abner said, picking up his brown leather bag.

“What’s that?” Dewey pointed at Abner’s belonging curiously.

“Oh.” Abner opened the zip and pulled out his trusty axe, holding it by the wooden handle. Its iron blade gleaming in the dim light. “You mean this?”

“Eek-!” Dewey literally jumped onto Huey, prompting the older brother to catch the duckling in his arms. The trembling duck in blue cried out for the only hero he knew. “Gizmoduck! Help!”

“Hey, you asked for it...” Abner tried to calm his cousin down, albeit still holding the axe in his grasp. He was trying to refer to Dewey asking for him to display his axe, but he was not the best with words.

“No———! I did not! Back off!” Dewey tried to move backwards, which nearly threw Huey off balance. “Gizmoduck———!”

“Hey! Keep it down. Didn’t you say not to alert anyon-“ Abner was interrupted when he heard rapid footsteps approaching them. Abner tried to hide himself, but a battle cry signalled him that it was too late.

“Don’t worry, citizens! Gizmoduck is here to rescue! Blathering Blather-“ A brown duck in a lab coat came rushing with a stack of lab reports. But the moment Fenton spotted the well-built lumberjack wielding a sharp axe, looking at him straight in the eyes, even the robo-hero fainted onto the ground, pieces of paper scattered around him on the courtyard.

An awkward silence followed.

Abner looked at the unconscious duck on the ground, the crying duck in blue, and the annoyed duck in red. “Weird city slickers...”

“Umm...You probably should go now, before anyone comes. I will take care of these two.” Huey spoke while dropping Dewey onto the ground. He held Abner’s hand sincerely, and whispered to him.

“Take Fethry away. Away from his misery.”

Even without Huey’s request, Abner would do that himself.

———————————————————————————————

Abner borrowed a wooden boat from a local fishermen duo. The duo offered a turbo jet, even free of charge. But Abner preferred the old-styled oar-driven boat, and insisted on paying for rent (of $1).

The weather that day was not the best for a sail, but Abner could not wait to see his brother. And he believed that his brother would think the same. He followed the GPS on his phone to the coordinates of the McDuck Sub-lab, and paddled against the current.

Despite living most of his life on land, Abner had learnt how to sail at a young age, thanks to his Junior Woodchuck training. He stopped paddling for a moment, and took out his Junior Woodchuck guidebook from his knapsack. On the first page was a photo of him, Fethry and their fellow teammates. At that time, both of them were ducklings. Abner just got his white feather coat, while Fethry was still a yellow-feathered child. Fethry was the most enthusiastic member of their Junior Woodchuck team. Being a Junior Woodchuck was the only thing Fethry could take pride in.

(9-3-2020)

Fethry was the reason Abner joined the scouting organisation. What was taught by the scoutmasters, such as building a campfire, pitching a tent, and (of course) bringing down a tree, had already been learnt by Abner from his lumberjack mentor. Yet, Abner let his brother demonstrate his skills as a Junior Woodchuck. He joined the organisation after an invitation from Fethry, to share Fethry’s joy and pride of being appreciated and praised by his juniors and seniors. Only as a Junior Woodchuck could Fethry truly be himself.

Abner took one last look at the photo, and closed the guidebook. He would be seeing him soon. In person.

———————————————————————————————

“Hey. You didn’t tell me about this thing here.”

Abner phoned Dewey when he saw the weird machine inside the lighthouse. There were so many buttons and levers on it, Abner didn’t know which would lead him down the lab, and which would set the lab on fire.

“Oh, now you are asking for help.” Dewey said sarcastically. “Not before you say sorry for trying to chop us up.”

Abner slapped his forehead with an audible sound, while Huey slapped Dewey with an audible scream. Huey caught Dewey’s phone with his other hand, and instructed Abner on the machine.

“Just pull the red lever and you are good to go. The one next to two stopwatch-looking thingie, with a green grid screen on top of it. There should be a green arrow pointing down once you pulled the lever.”

Abner pulled the lever as he was told, and the machine started rumbling. “Thanks Cos’.”

“My pleasure. A Junior Woodchuck always helps his fellow Junior Woodchucks.” Said Huey proudly before hanging up the phone. Abner was dumbfounded about how much his newly-met Cousins knew about him, as the elevator took him down to the depth of the ocean.

———————————————————

The elevator stopped suddenly.

Abner nearly lost his footing, before balancing himself with his axe. He tried pulling the lever, but there was no further response. The glass gate to a corridor of the lab only opened slightly, the gap too small for Abner to slide through.

Without any further way to proceed, Abner tried forcing the gate open with the poll of his axe. The glass gate easily gave way, rising up to the top automatically. Abner sighed, seeing how worn-out the lab was. At this point, he wondered if the lab was still in use. Everything looked like it was in ruins.

Abner looked around the corridor: The walls were dirty. The pipes were rusty and broken, with unknown chemical solutions dripping from the holes. The lighting flickered on and off, giving the place an ominous atmosphere. His surrounding was unnervingly quiet, except for the dripping of liquid. As if someone, or something, was waiting for him, watching him from the shadows. The smell was awful, a mix of seawater, chemical wastes and rotten organisms. The wall of the corridor read: “Tully Observatory”.

Abner was known to have nerves of steel, but even he could not help but feel scared. The lab was visibly dangerous. If the boys were not guided by Fethry, Abner doubted he would be here now. He would probably never receive the letter. The letter would have never been written. He held his axe close to himself, eyes darting left and right, up and down to look for potential dangers. He took out his flashlight from his knapsack, and turned it on, holding it in his left hand with his other hand grasping the axe tightly. He could feel his heart racing as he nervously shone the flashlight everywhere. But the light from the flashlight came out wobbly, largely due to his hand uncontrollably trembling.

“Man up, Whitewater!” Abner tried to give himself a pep talk. He was the strongest arm in his town, able to win any wrestling match without breaking a sweat, be it with men or beasts. But now he was alone, sweating involuntarily without a single enemy in sight. Abner was grateful he was alone, lest anyone saw him shaking like a damsel in distress. Yet, part of him was also wishing for company. Someone to fight alongside with him. Someone to give him courage and encouragement.

Suddenly, the light went out. For 1 second. 5 seconds. 10 seconds. 30 seconds...Abner dared not to move, and shone his flashlight in every direction. He wanted to make a run for the elevator, but his strong legs were weak with fear. Abner was near his breaking point. He knew something was there with him, as a hissing sound and a disgusting noise were heard. He strained his ears in the darkness, trying to predict where the enemy, or enemies, would ambush him from, but his head was in a daze. The sounds were getting closer, closer and closer to him. They were coming from all direction. Abner’s heart sank: He was surrounded.

At this point, Abner wished the lights would not turn on again, like a child covering his eyes to not see the monster in front of him. He would rather die in ignorance than die in fear. He dropped the flashlight, and held his axe to himself as tightly as both of his trembling hands could.

Finally, at the worst moment, the lights switched on. Abner came face to face with rows of sharp teeth on the wall of a tunnel to the abyss, with the tunnel stretching to unknown length. He was too late to run. Too late to close his eyes. The monster was right in front of him.

(10-3-2020)

———————————————————

Abner was, to a certain extent, glad that no-one would be there to save him, there to hear him scream. He wildly swung his axe forward, clumsily missing his target just in front of him. He swung again, missing the giant sea worm by half a metre. Despite how large in size they were, the invertebrates were quite agile.

Abner was no trained warrior, but his proficiency in wielding an axe was second to none. The fact that he kept missing his targets dampened his battle spirit: He didn’t have a chance against the monster.

Suddenly, just before going in for another careless attack, Abner felt his feet leaving the metal ground. Abner’s heart sank even lower when he was lifted off the ground. He frantically glanced around despite hanging midair: His feet was caught. He was caught.

Worse still, his hand slipped, thanks to his cold sweat on his palm and the disgusting, slimy substance of the beasts. He dropped his axe. His only weapon. He could only desperately look at his axe falling to the stone cold ground, away from his hand, until a loud clunk could be heard.

Abner had no time to fear for the worst. The monster quickly wrapped its body around the duck, squeezing the warmth out of him. Not even the strongest arm in the countryside could resist the constrictor. He tried pushing at the smooth, jade-green skin of the worm, with all the strength he could muster. It didn’t even bulge. Uh oh.

The predator, though without eyes, sensed its prey trying to push his way free. A quick coil pinned his arms to his body, immobilising those nasty limbs. Oh no.

With only his head and feet free, Abner knew that was the end for him. No way to help him escape. No way to struggle. No way to cry for help (at least, no one to hear him). He frantically thrashed around helplessly, heart pounding, eyes wide open with fear.

He made the long trip to Duckburg, met two of his distant cousins, knew his brother’s ordeal, went to where his brother was trapped, and now he’s going to die without even catching a glimpse of his brother. For four and a half years...he had no contact with his brother. And he would soon be no longer to hear from his dear Fethry forever.

The sea worm tightened its crushing grip, subduing even one of the toughest ducks in the world. Abner’s struggling ceased. He felt that his seemingly limitless strength had been squeezed out. Abner could only squirm weakly, watching as his predator loomed over his relatively small body. The pair of lips split to reveal the tunnel of fangs, seeming endless in length.

Perhaps he was already too late. There’s no way Fethry could fight this monstrosity. Perhaps Fethry wasn’t in the lab anymore. This was the way to see his brother. This was how the two brothers could finally reunite. Abner’s view turned black, as the ravenous maw closed in...

“Hey, meanie! Leave him alone!” A strange yet familiar voice shouted out, echoing through the corridor. Though muffled, Abner could recognise that voice. The voice he had missed for nearly half a decade, the voice he came here for.

Fethry rushed to the base of Abner’s captor, patting the worm’s body, rubbing his beak against it. “You wouldn’t hurt a kind soul, would you? You lil’ angel...We have to treat our guests with love and respect!”

Upon “hearing” Fethry’s persuasion, the sea monster let out a sad whine, stopping its swallowing albeit still trapping its prey in its mouth. It’s still not giving up.

Fethry started to get impatient, but reminded himself to fight with kindness. “That’s my big bro, our VIP. We have to show our Atlantis-tic hospitality! You are a good host, right? A good host gives his guest personal space and freedom. I know you can do it...” Fethry encouraged the sea worm with a light kiss to its smooth, slimy body. Satisfied, the sea worm spat its prey out onto the ground, and lowered its head for a pat from Fethry. It slithered back to the lab’s extensive tunnel system, along with its fellow sea worms. The corridor once again became silent, except for the dripping of liquid.

———————————————————————————————

Fethry rushed to his brother’s side, checking for breath and pulse. Both were weak, but at least detectable. Abner lied against the metal wall, still drained and dizzy from the near-death experience. He slowly opened his eyes, meeting his little brother’s.

Fethry pulled Abner into a hug, despite Abner still being covered in the worm’s secretions. Fethry didn’t care. He missed his big bro. So, so bad.

(19-3-2020)

From just a single hug, Abner could feel all the warmth that had been squeezed out returned to him. Even in a daze, Abner could feel his brother’s emotions, his smile and tears. Four and a half years, across the ocean and over the mountains, the two brothers had finally reunited. To think that should Fethry had arrived five minutes later, just less than a jiffy to rescue his brother from the foul, mutated creature, the two brothers would had been forever parted by the death door. Fethry couldn’t imagine waiting in solitude for so long, only to see his brother die in front of him. A mixed feeling of happiness, sadness, anticipation, loneliness and guilt flooded Fethry’s mind, his grip tightening around Abner’s waist.

Abner knew that mixed feeling was mutual. Although unable to hug back due to his arms still numb, Abner said nor did anything, letting the welled-up emotions fill his heart, and express themselves in the form of tears.

———————————————————————————————

It was Fethry who let go first. Once he did, the good old enthusiastic Fethry was back.

“Big bro! You really did accept my invitation! I am so happy!” Fethry jumped up and down, visually showing his unnatural happiness.

Abner felt something a bit off, but went along with Fethry for now. “Yeah. I...uh, read your letter. Or your cousins’ letter. They met me at the McDuck Manor, and guided me here to find you. You said you have-“ “Oh! So you met the two lil’ Donalds! They were cute, weren’t they? I especially like the Red Donald. He’s a Junior Woodchuck too!” Fethry interrupted before Abner could finish. Fethry was always the bubbly type, so Abner was used to his enthusiasm.

“Yea. Um...’Huey’ was quite helpful. The other one...not so much.” Abner said as he got up from the floor, his legs still weak and numb. His entire body was drenched, but he got neither the energy nor the motivation to dry himself right now.

“Um...I...” Abner looked down, hands messing with his hair aimlessly. Fethry looked at him with his huge, watery eyes, waiting for his brother. “Th...than...thanks for saving me just now. I...I don’t know what would happen if...if you didn’t co...come to he...help. Thanks, Fethry.” Abner managed to utter the last sentence of gratitude without stuttering. Abner never owed anyone anything, and now he owed his life to his dear brother.

“Aww shucks...It was nothing.” Fethry puffed his chest proudly. “A Junior Woodchuck always helps his fellow Junior Woodchucks.” Abner chuckled as he saw the resemblance between his cousin Huey and his brother. No wonder Fethry liked Huey so much.

“Come on! I’ll show you around.” Fethry proposed as he took off his jacket, and put it on Abner. “You’ll catch a cold, big bro. Wear this!” Abner wouldn’t want to make his brother’s coat dirty, but he couldn’t deny that he was freezing. Partly because his head was uncovered right now...

“That’s right! Where’s your hat?” Fethry pointed out, before Abner even noticed his hat missing. “Must have been taken by that...thing as a souvenir. Won’t risk taking it back.” Abner shivered at the thought of fighting those monstrous sea worms again, that feeling of pure fear still lingering in his head.

“Oh, no! Your head must be kept constantly warm to prevent...brain-freezing! A warm head is a happy and healthy head...” So Fethry’s still believing in that self-help book? “No, I’m fine. Just need a quick rest...”

“Here, take this on!” Without hesitation, Fethry took off his stocking cap, and put it on Abner’s head. Fethry never took his stocking cap off. Fethry was never successfully convinced to take his stocking cap off. Fethry never doubted that self-help book’s advice of keeping your head warm to keep it healthy. And now he’s taking his cap off on his own, under no pressure or threat, and putting it on someone else’s head, while leaving his head bare and unprotected? Fethry’s love for his brother was so great, even Abner couldn’t comprehend.

“Th...thank you, Fethry...” Abner uttered in disbelieve, fixing his new undersized jacket and stocking cap. “Don’t mention it! They look great on you!” Fethry smiled.

(20-3-2020)

“I’ll take you on a tour! You are our honourable third guest!” Fethry walked forward down the corridor, looking back to signal Abner to come with him. Despite still having questions...a lot of questions...Abner decided keep his beak shut for the moment. Questions could wait. He retrieved his axe from the floor, and let Fethry take his hand.

———————————————————————————————

“And now, we come to the abode of the one and only Fethry Duck. Behold!” Fethry said in a tour guild’s voice, as the brothers entered Fethry’s abode. The pod was inhabitable, but clearly in disrepair.

Fethry’s voice was optimistic and persuasive, but the fact that the pod, along with the rest of the lab, was not a homely place was obvious. The golden-yellow paint on the wall was tearing off. Every piece of fabric was sewed up again and again (despite Fethry’s fine sewing skills, the evidence that those cloths have been used for years was inevitably visible). Electricity was still supplied throughout the lab, albeit unstably, as it was generated by the “hydrothermal vents” (as Fethry had explained). Living here for four and a half years was, to a small extent, possible, especially given how adaptable and creative Fethry was. But would anyone want to live in such a condition for so long?

(21-3-2020)

A torn poster was decorated on the wall. The only phrases readable were the title “Signs of Ocean Madness” and a bullet point “Isolation for Long Period of Time”. Abner wouldn’t say Fethry had gone mad, but he sure did feel...different. Different from a person suffering from isolation for long period of time. Why was the poster there in the first place? One of the partly-torn bullet point involved the word “Pressure”, and Huey reported Fethry trying to “depressurise” himself from the deep sea pressure. Was Fethry trying to stay sane while being trapped here? Was the torn poster a symbol that he had failed?

“So this is where I live. Simple and sweet. Not too much, not too little.” Fethry showed Abner his “home” by spinning around. “My bed, my sofa my stove, my tea kettle, my dishes, my towel, my empty coffee bean jar...” Among the possessions Fethry listed, he missed one prominent item in the room. One type of household item that was in excess quantity and diversity: Cleaning goods.

Fethry didn’t mention it, but Abner knew that much cleaning chemicals and tools were unnecessary for a pod this small.

“...my cupboard, my curtain, my window, through which you can see the beautiful ocean view - well, in depth...and...Oh! My team!” Fethry dashed to the an even smaller storage room, before Abner could stop him. He took out a jar of seawater, which, on mild stirring, began to glow. Bioluminescent krill. It was the first time Abner saw anything bioluminescent other than fireflies. The krill were beautiful, but Abner had no more time. Abner was happy that his little brother was happy, but something tells him Fethry was not. Questions could wait, but it was too long.

“My team, meet my big bro. My big bro, meet my team-“

“Why-“ Abner cut him off before he could introduce his “team”. That was obviously not a team, whatever the nature of the team was. Fethry was obviously hiding something. There’s no way he could feel so happy.

Yes, he just met his “long lost” brother. But then he’s taking Abner on a tour around his prison, without hinting why he was sent to this prison in the first place, or his feelings when trapped in this hell. Fethry asked his cousins to send his brother a distress signal, and his cousins added additional information on how pathetic the situation Fethry was in now. Fethry might hide the truth from the boys, as they were still acquaintances, and Fethry might not want to badmouth their dear Uncle Scrooge in front of them.

But there’s no reason why Fethry would ask the boys to send a long distance mail by air to Abner’s town, urged Abner to come all the way to the McDuck Sub-lab, only to take him on a tour around the lab. There’s no reason why Fethry would hide the truth from Abner, the only family member he could trust. He couldn’t hide it.

Fethry was evading. And Abner could see through it.

“Why could I fend off the sea worms? Oh...You see, they feel affection...” The sea worm attack was an hour ago. “So instead of fists, you fight with kisses! Red lil’ Donald’s tactic worked! I should write that in my Junior Woodchuck Guidebook...”

Fethry put down the jar on the cupboard, took the guidebook from his bed, and began flipping through the pages to find a blank one. When he did, however, Abner put his right hand on the page, pushing the guidebook down. Fethry was wacky, but he’s not stupid. He knew he had been exposed. He’s just buying time now.

“Fethry, level with me. Please.” Abner requested firmly. “Why would Scrooge trap you here for four and a half years?” Fethry didn’t tell Abner he had been here for four and a half years, let alone the fact that Scrooge was the culprit.

The question pinpointed the problem at its core. There’s no escape for Fethry now. He dropped the smile on his face, and the guidebook in his hands. He lowered his head, and said nothing for the next minute. Abner waited, as Fethry was internally struggling to open the lid to his bottled-up feelings. Betrayal, rejection, isolation...

Fethry’s hands rarely balled into fists, his entire body shifted from shaking to trembling. Fethry could lie, but he couldn’t lie to himself. When those bottled-up emotions were let out, Fethry easily collapsed.

He fell onto his knees, his hands covering his face. Not even his hands could contain the flowing tears, which slipped through the gaps of his fingers. Four and a half years’ worth of buried sadness manifested into a pathetic wail, echoing in the small pod. He cried, screamed, shouted, cursed...It wasn’t the first time Abner saw his brother cry, but it was the first time he saw his brother cry this hard, this intense. Fethry hit the cold, hard ground with his fists. It surely hurt, but not as much as it was in his heart. Scrooge, Scrooge McDuck, Uncle Scrooge...Four and a half years, because of this man, this relative, this...”idol” of his.

Fethry needed some time. Some alone time. Abner watched as his brother expressed his feelings wildly in his so-called “home”, not saying a word, not doing an action.

In merely fifteen minutes, four and a half years’ time suddenly burst forward.

———————————————————

“So, the boys told you about what happened when they left...” Fethry, still looking down, stressed on the word “they”. He wasn’t allowed on board, on board the ship to freedom. That slap on the hand started to hurt again.

Abner sat on the ground to get to the same level as Fethry. Fethry had the answer to his own question.

“Ten years ago, I left from our hometown to Duckburg. I heard Donald and Della were going on adventures with Uncle Scrooge again, from Gladdy. Of course they wouldn’t involve me in their adventures. They wouldn’t even want me to know about their adventures.” Fethry said with a strong hint of sadness. It was after a visit by Gladstone Gander that Fethry left for Duckburg, but Abner never thought what really drove Fethry to his uncle was the postcard sent to Gladstone by Donald.

“I had been pushed aside, neglected and ignored for so long, I wanted to prove myself I could be as successful as anyone else. I wanted to prove that I am not just a Junior Woodchuck. I am more than a Junior Woodchuck. I am talentless. I am useless. I am weak. But I thought: Through determination and creativity, nothing is impossible. Isn’t this how Uncle Scrooge became the richest duck in the world? ‘Tougher than the toughies, smarter than the smarties...’, eh?” Fethry recited that phrase with pure bitterness. The phrase he once lived by had come back to bite him.

“When I arrived at Duckburg, however, Uncle Scrooge had stopped adventuring. Apparently, Della had laid three eggs, which are, of course, the three boys. Without Della, the adventure team stopped its operation.”

“‘That was my chance!’ I thought to myself. I could substitute Della as the third member while she waited for the eggs to hatch. After proving my abilities, I could become the fourth member of the team.”

“But Uncle Scrooge outright rejected my offer. ‘You are too incompetent,’ he coldly said to me. ‘Don’t think your Junior Woodchuck skills make you a genius.’ I understand. I am not as strong as Donald. I am not as brave as Della. But I have a heart for adventure as passionate as both of them. I am also a Junior Woodchuck like both of them. Somehow, being a ‘jack of all trade, master of none’ automatically makes you useless.”

“I tried to prove my worth as a team member. I had thought of possible locations for treasure hunting, researching the geographic and the fauna of those areas, thus working out the level of difficulty of different destination. I had also provided solutions, and self-invented gadgets if necessary. But all my proposals were not even given a glance. All my gadgets were not even given a trial. I understand Della was an irreplaceable member of the team. I wasn’t trying to replace her. I just wanted to be like her. Be a part of the team. Be...like Scrooge.”

“A man of miracles, hailing from the highlands of Scotland, travelled to the land of America at a young age of 18, gained his own bucket o’ gold from the gold rush at 20, and established his own company at the tender age of 22.5. Just four and a half years, Scrooge McDuck was already on his way to fame and glory. A man of miracles, indeed.”

(22-3-2020)

“And even the richest duck in the world couldn’t escape bad luck, it seemed. One day, I came to the McDuck Manor, and bumped into Donald with the three eggs. I didn’t need Donald to tell me what happened. It was all on the news. The niece of the richest duck in the world went missing in space. Poor ol’ Uncle Scrooge poured his heart and soul into saving his beloved niece. I had never seen him look that pathetic: His eyes were red with crying, his sleeves wet with tears. His feathers were all puffed up and ruffled. His office was in a mess. Oh, poor Uncle Scrooge.” Despite his wording and apparently sympathetic attitude, Abner could hear a strong satirical tone in his innocent little brother’s speech.

“Donald took up the responsibility to take care of the three little Donalds. I wanted to help, but Donald insisted on being the sole caretaker. Donald never like owing people things.”

“The only thing I can do is take care of Uncle Scrooge. Duckworth’s ageing body started to fail him, so I volunteered to help take care of my own uncle.”

“Those days were tough. Very tough. I believe Donald felt the same when raising three children on his own. Uncle Scrooge didn’t seem like himself. Once the owner of the world, now a pathetic old man. I did everything for him. Meals, cleaning, laundry, fetching newspaper, collecting mails, gardening...And he said my Junior Woodchuck skills meant nothing...”

“Dr Gearloose, as usual, helped in the repairing of electronic appliances, while Mr Duckworth helped deal with the press and the entrepreneurs. Those days were hard, but there, I found a meaning for my life. Despite I was just taking care of my uncle, I felt like someone appreciated me for the first time since I left the Junior Woodchucks. I felt like I was being treasured, being noticed. I was an apprentice of the legendary Scrooge McDuck!”

“I didn’t want his wealth or fame. I just want the attention he gets. Not the one from reporters, but from his family. That’s all I ask for: A place in this family. Where I can be myself, and be welcomed and accepted.”

“After a year or two, things started to get back together. The money bin was filled with coins and treasures again. The stock price of McDuck Enterprises was rising again. Even I was just being a caretaker, I felt like I had done something great for the family. I felt like I played a part to save McDuck Enterprises, and Uncle Scrooge himself. There weren’t any celebrations, but I was clapping my hands in my heart intensely when the news arrived.”

“Uncle Scrooge returned to his former glory. The last ray of sunlight at dusk seeped through the curtains into his office. Uncle Scrooge was asleep in his chair, tired from a day’s work. Even on a sunny day, autumn in Duckburg could be chilling. I took a blanket from the closet, and placed it on Uncle Scrooge. His drowsy ‘thank you’ was all I needed. Two words gave me the will to live on. A smile gave me the energy to move on. Just being by his side filled me with happiness. Just being with Uncle Scrooge gave me the meaning in life. I don’t need adventures anymore. I had found my position, my value.”

“But life just wouldn’t give ol’ Scrooge a break. Fate just likes to mess with people, you know?” Fethry’s voice deepened, signalling a dark turn of events.

“Five years ago, Mr Duckworth passed away. He had fought bravely against death for five years to witness the rebirth of Scrooge McDuck, but he succumbed to his disease on a beautiful autumn morning. The morning glory bloomed quietly in the garden, its speaker-shaped flowers listening to the silent prayers of the elderly duck.”

“We were afraid what happened five years before would happen again. It didn’t, in their eyes. But it did, in mine.”

“McDuck Enterprises didn’t fall into depression, but Uncle Scrooge did. It wasn’t very visible this time, and only Dr Gearloose and I noticed Scrooge’s abnormal behaviour. He had been working much. Too much. He could take care of himself. He ate, slept, bathed...but then it’s back to working time. The only socialising he did was with business partners. He only talked to Dr Gearloose about research and design. Nothing more.”

“Not being part of his enterprises, Uncle Scrooge didn’t talk to me at all. Except complaints about incomplete or imperfect houseworks. I still had my job, but the meaning was starting to fade. I was still Uncle Scrooge’s caretaker, but that’s all I was. I was treated as though I was being paid. I wasn’t appreciated. I wasn’t needed. Scrooge could take care of himself. What I was providing was no longer required. I was no longer important.”

“I was never appreciated in the first place. The one receiving the glory was Mr Duckworth, the forever faithful mister butler. He was the one who saved Uncle Scrooge. I was just pretending to be in his spotlight. Now that Mr Duckworth was gone, the spotlight ceased, and I realised I was the jester on the stage, not even close to a sidekick.”

(23-3-2020)

“I stayed by his side, taking the role of Mr Duckworth before a replacement could be found. Funny how I was now taking the role of someone else, like I always wanted, but I felt nothing. For half a year, I didn’t exist in this world. I was invisible, non-existing, intangible. Anxiety crept in as I realised my meaning in life getting away from me. I needed to be of use. I needed to contribute to McDuck Enterprises. Only then...I would feel Uncle Scrooge’s appreciation.”

“I asked for whether he needed any help. I had done all the necessary housework as possible, and asked for extra work for the Enterprises. The reply was surprising. Unfortunately surprising.” Abner frowned slightly as he knew what the job would be.

“‘Yes.’ He said. He introduced me to the McDuck Sub-lab, where I would be working as a scientist. The Sub-lab at that time looked nothing like this. Golden walls, brightly illuminated hallways, well-furnished laboratories...I was overjoyed when I stepped into the Sub-lab. I imagined how my life in the McDuck Enterprises would be: Me, working among elites from all over Duckburg, doing experiments and research with hundreds of Dr Gearloose, doing demonstrations and presentations in front of thousands of Scrooge McDuck...A life full of meaning was there in my reach.”

(24-3-2020)

Abner listened quietly, and kept his confusion to himself. Didn’t his cousins told him Fethry was just a caretaker of the lab?

“To think I could be second to Dr Gearloose, the greatest inventor in Duckburg, I was more than delighted. Childish it may seem, but I always aspire to be a scientist. A person who can change someone’s life. A person who can change the world for the better. I just find it meaningful to help others. Must be all that teaching back in the Junior Woodchuck.”

“That’s why I invited you to Duckburg at Christmas of that year, big bro.”

Fethry looked up, looking at Abner’s shocked expression. Abner seldom answered his family’s invitation. His family seldom gave Abner invitation. But that Christmas, five years ago, Abner accepted his brother’s invitation. He knew there must be a reason why Fethry, the one who knew him the most, would invite him to a family gathering on purpose.

———————————————————————————————

At the front door of the McDuck Manor, there he was: Fethry waving at his brother in the front garden, wearing a bright smile that warmed Abner’s heart in the evening snowfall. That was the first and only time Abner entered the Manor. He would never think of getting in there if it wasn’t because of that letter from Fethry.

Despite the Fethry’s warm welcome, the bright lighting and the fragrant aroma of wintry herbs, the inside of the Manor was colder than the outside. The Manor seemed unusually big, thanks to the lack of occupants. It’s true: Scrooge would stay in his office, while Gyro would stay at home. One hated Christmas, one hated human interactions in general. That “family gathering” was between the two brothers only.

Still, Fethry prepared everything himself: The invitation, the decorations, the hospitality, the food...That full-course meal was the best Abner had ever had. After all, which chef in all of Duckburg - or in the world - would know what he personally liked the most?

Together, the two brothers warmed up the three-storey manor. On the Christmas day five years ago, laughter filled the McDuck Manor. The long-gone festive atmosphere surrounded the Manor. The winter moonlight illuminated the once misery abode. For one night, a couch beside the fireplace became the most cozy place in the city. For one night, a plain bunk bed became the most comfortable place in the world.

For one night, a Christmas miracle was bestowed to the Duck family.

———————————————————————————————

But little did Abner know, the Christmas present given to him that year was a parting gift.

Fethry didn’t tell his brother about his new “occupation”. He wanted to invite his brother to his new working place for a tour once he started working there. But surely, that dream didn’t come true until now, four and a half years later.

“I wanted to celebrate with you, brother.” Fethry held Abner’s hand. “That was the best Christmas I had ever enjoyed ever since we grew up and went separate ways. I wish that Christmas night would repeat. That happiness and warmth I experienced would come back to me...” Fethry was close to tears, but held them back with a soft sniff.

“And then, I didn’t experience any Christmas at all for four years. The next spring, I was brought to the Sub-lab by a submarine, guided to the depth of the building complex, and left stranded here until now. Uncle Scrooge promised the other scientists would be joining me soon, but I should have known better. A tin can for communication? How silly of me. I watched as the Uncle Scrooge left with the only vehicle to freedom, and disappeared into the spring mist. I remembered I waved at him, smiling. I could imagine Scrooge doing the same, smiling at his gullible nephew.”

“While waiting for my non-existing colleagues, I did the only thing I know. The thing I once did to save the company: Caretaking. I found the cleaning goods in this pod, and made the whole laboratory sparkly cleaned, ready for scientists from all over the world to join me underseas.”

“For days, weeks, months, years...nobody came. The tin can must have rung countless times, but nobody answered. I tried joking, shouting, screaming for response, but nobody replied. I waited on the dock of the lighthouse for ships from McDuck enterprises, or just from any good Samaritan, but nobody even passed by in the murky sea. I don’t have a submarine, ship or boat. Even if I did, the only coordinates I have was of this cursed Sub-lab. I wouldn’t know where to go. Swimming back to land was suicide. I have learnt enough to know how dangerous the wonders of the sea could be. That’s when I knew: I am truly trapped in this deserted laboratory.”

“Food was running short. Clean water was running short. Fear was running high. Even with my Junior Woodchuck guidebook, I can’t survive on my own in the middle of nowhere. Worse still, the chemical waste and the hydrothermal vents were turning my sea companions into murderous monsters.”

“What started out small enough to fit my palm mutated into unmeasurable length. You aren’t the only one scared of those sea worms, big brother. The first time I met one of those, I knew I was going to die. Just one of those monsters, and I was immediately subdued. My eyes wide opened, my feet dangling midair. I was cornered, trapped, vulnerable. That was the end for me, I was convinced. That was where I would die. That was how I would die. Alone, scared, hopeless, helpless...”

“I cried. Pathetically. At the mercy of my predator, I didn’t use my hands to struggle. I didn’t use my hands to beg for salvation. I used my hands to cover my face, wiping away ever-flowing tears. That wouldn’t help, but I knew I couldn’t save myself anyway. I was weak. I would never be tougher than the toughies, smarter than the smarties. I just couldn’t. I cry when I am scared. I panic when I am startled. At the end, I am just a whiny kid.”

“My discovery about those worms was the result of that near-death experience. The monster loosened its grapple, from a crushing grip to a gentle embrace. It softly set me down onto the floor, and nuzzled my face. They may not have eyes or noses, but they can sense emotions. It must had sensed my sadness, and felt my tears dripping onto its smooth skin. These were my buddies, originally my predators. I was pathetic enough to treat my killers as my friends. I was pathetic enough to let those cold, smily skin give me warmth and comfort.”

(30-3-2020)

Fethry paused for a brief moment, before letting out a little laugh. “On the other hand...” He pointed at the torn poster on the wall. “That is what Scrooge gave me. A mockery, letting me know I’m going insane: My cries for help are just ‘signs of madness’. My fears of dying are merely ‘paranoia’...”

The laughter turned from a chuckle to a hysterical cackle. “When I look at that poster...That worn-out piece of paper bearing the logo of McDuck Enterprises, signed by Scrooge McDuck himself...” Fethry touched the window of the pod, looking at the deep sea outside. “My anger as scalding as the vocanlos, but my sorrow as blue as the sea.”

Abner looked at the jar of bioluminescent krill Fethry was hugging close to himself. The dim blue lights from the critters reminded him of the twinkling stars back at their hometown. Fethry must have thought the same: Whenever Fethry stared lovingly at his “team”, was he thinking of his hometown? Those carefree days observing the starlit night sky with his brother on the meadow. He used to make a wish to the stars every night. Was he doing the same to the krill? How many wishes had he made during those four and a half years?

“But...” Abner hesitated to say the question he had been wanting to ask. “Why would Scrooge do this to you?”

Fethry didn’t answer immediately, still looking at the deep sea. Abner patiently waited, silently worrying he might had asked a wrong question. Was it something Fethry had done? Did Fethry not have the answer?

“Uncle Scrooge wanted a start over.”

Fethry whispered, looking back at Abner.

“Ever since Della went missing, Donald went away, I was the only person who would remind Uncle Scrooge of his past, adventure days. After Mr Duckworth passed away, Scrooge wanted to move on. Falling into depression a second time taught Scrooge the only way to rehabilitation was to let go of the past.”

“I’m his life reset button. Only by removing me could Uncle Scrooge forget the past and return to his former success. When I realised I was trapped here, I understood Scrooge’s intention: Getting rid of me, dead or alive.”

Fethry showed a sad smile.

“At the end, I was saving McDuck Enterprises after all.”

———————————————————————————————

A faint ray of light pierced through the glass into the pod.

The sky must had cleared up. For light to penetrate through the deep ocean layers, the sunlight out there must be very bright.

The sunlight illuminated Fethry’s smile, like an angel trapped in hell, yet basked in heaven’s light.

And Abner’s going to free this angel from his underwater prison. He’s going to give his brother the salvation he had deserved for four and a half years.

Abner stood up, walking behind Fethry, and returned his jacket and stocking cap, helping him put on the clothing. Before he could decline the offer, Abner held his brother’s hand, helping him up.

“We’re getting out of here, Fethry.”

The younger brother replied with a nod and a smile, his watery eyes showing his gratitude and happiness.

Just like in the past, back in the rural hometown: A big brother holding his younger brother’s hand, walking home in the dark.

Axe in one hand, his brother’s hand in another, Abner walked through the ruined underwater lab for the second and the last time. What seemed like hell just an hour ago was a bit more homely now. The cold, metallic ground underneath was now the path to freedom.

Walking towards the wall labelled “Tully Observatory”, Abner faced the predator again. The sea worm came out of its hiding spot, tilting its head at the duo. Abner let go of his brother, dropped his axe voluntarily, and paddled towards the monster whom he had feared just a while ago. The duck embraced his predator, patting the head previously trying to devour him.

“Thank you for accompanying my brother.” Abner uttered, a bit unbelieving that he’s talking to a seemingly non-sentient being. Whether it understood or not, Abner felt that he must give his gratitude to the only company his brother had had until their two young cousins came to visit.

The sea worm let out a contented whine, like a cat’s purr. Despite having no limbs or visible sensory organs, that creature was quite sensitive. The invertebrate bent its body, seemingly trying to cough out something. Abner put out his hands to receive the “gift”, which was no other than his own brown hat.

Slightly disgusted, but heart-warmed, Abner gave the monster one last pat, put on the hat, before taking his axe and his brother’s hand again.

———————————————————————————————

The sky in the outside world looked like it had never rained before. The evening shade was a mix of aqua and orange, with sparse clouds a deep blue colour. Distant light from lighthouses and ships looked like twilight stars fallen from the sky, gleaming brightly on the water surface. The waves were calm, the breeze gentle, as if it was the start of a new journey.

Abner stepped onto the boat, putting his axe back into his leather bag, his knapsack beside him, while taking the oar in his hand. Fethry looked at the lighthouse one last time - his home for nearly half a decade - but his heart was now calm as the evening tides. He had left his sadness, wrath, despair, and agony down on the sea bed. Uncle Scrooge was right: Only by letting go of the past could someone move forward.

Fethry flipped a switch, turning the lights off. No need for the beacon of hope, now that the stars were in his reach. Fethry took a deep breath, and turned around to his brother.

“Let’s go home, big brother.”

(7-3-2020 ~ 11-6-2020)

———————————————————————————————

-Oh my god I finally finished it.

-This is actually the first fan-fiction I have started in my life, but the fourth to finish writing. This is also probably the longest story I will ever write. I’m sorry I’m impatient and lazy.

-Like “122,640 Days” (and “Hey Laddie”(?)), I wrote most of “Brother’s Sentiment” before and during my public exam. I’m sorry I’m a terrible student.

-(Okay back to the story) This story is an AU (?) of the Ducktales (2017) episode “The Depth of Cousin Fethry!” (S02E02), in which Huey and Dewey did not (could not) free Fethry after their visit to the McDuck Sub-lab, so as to give way for Fethry’s big brother Abner “Whitewater” Duck. The lab was not destroyed during the kids’ visit (sorry Mitzy no playing hero for you).

-I also tried to give a backstory as to why Fethry ended up in the lab in the first place, a description of Fethry’s feelings for being trapped for four and a half years, and a reason for Scrooge’s decision of trying to indirectly kill his relative, etc. These aspects were not explored in the series and were thus non-canon.

-Also non-canon was Scrooge’s road to fame as described in the story. I know there’s a detailed backstory about Scrooge’s rise to power (?), but I am not a real fan I didn’t do my research I’m sorry wanted to fit the time “4.5 years” so as to make a comparison between Scrooge and Fethry.

-The story was written (finished) at the start of Season 3 (up to S03E07). More of Fethry may be explored (Abner screen debut please), so the story really is all my imagination.

Two songs I listened to while writing (most of) the story:

Mitsuha’s Theme (三葉のテーマ), from Your Name https://m.youtube.com/watch?v=NHefLo230SE

Kataware Doki (かたわれ時), also from Your Name https://m.youtube.com/watch?v=Uy3NpQRJntc

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Thank you for reading my first story. Have a nice day!

#ducktales #ducktales 2017 #the depth of cousin fethry #fethry duck #abner duck #whitewater duck #story #storyteller #long story

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fericita-s · 4 years

Text

Mating Season (Chapter 2)

Chapter 1

Chapter 3

Thank you all for reading and thank you @the-spastic-fantastic for reading before anyone else, helping me develop the story and offering such great suggestions and edits.

***

“Where exactly will you stay?” Her father seemed to be the most doubtful about the wisdom of this trip, though Elsa had already arched an eyebrow that morning and asked “You’re going to Black Mountain for the reindeer? Really? The reindeer?”

“They have a fully-supplied medical cabin with no one to see to it, so that’s where I’ll be. And I already asked Ryder to go and help me, so I won’t be completely alone! And you trust him - he’s practically related to us.”

“They invited Ryder too?” Iduna had already started lists of what Anna would need to bring, what she wasn’t sure could be found in the woods of the Black Mountain, or what would be too difficult to gather in the winter months.

“No, Kristoff invited me. I invited Ryder.”

Agnarr gaped. “This is a diplomatic and humanitarian mission! You can’t just invite whoever you want!”

Iduna put a hand on Agnarr’s shoulder. “Agnarr, this is hardly as strict of a plan as all that. Tribes have been lending each other people and supplies and expertise and knowledge in every way for hundreds of years. It’s how we survive. “ She turned to look at Anna. “But Anna, I know how you get. You can’t dismiss him and his entire tribe if you don’t like how he chews his food one night. You’ve agreed to go and even if you tire of him, you will stay until calving in the spring.”

“This is not about him!”

Agnarr looked relieved, but Iduna smiled and said “We’ll see.”

***

“Anna, you go with the blessing of our people and the spirits. May you bring these blessings to the Black Mountain as well.” Yelana lowered her hands from her formal declaration and drew close to Anna, her voice directly in her ear. “Be patient. Learn. And remember you are a guest. Be polite.”

“Well, I already told Kristoff he’s too serious and irritable and sad. And that was before he asked me to come. So I think everything will be alright.”

Yelana shook her head and stepped backwards. “Please, just try to keep our relationship with Black Mountain a good one.

***

Elsa helped her pack some books and clothes into a pack that would be loaded along with the many parcels and packets of medicines that Iduna had prepared.

“Do you still think this is a good idea?” Elsa handed her another pile of books as she asked the question. Anna began the impossible task of choosing some and leaving others.

“Of course!” Anna looked at Elsa and saw the disbelief on her face. “You belong here. You and the spirits, you all fit together. I fit here mostly, but I often feel restless. I think it’s time to go explore a bit. And besides, it’s just through the rest of fall, all winter, and most of spring. That’s hardly any time at all!”

Elsa laughed. “It’s enough time for reindeer to conceive and calve and be ready to do so again. I wonder what else might happen.”

Anna rolled her eyes. “I can’t imagine what you mean.”

***

Kristoff watched as Ryder and Anna joined the procession of Black Mountain as they left the Northuldra lands. Many came up to give them final embraces or parting words, and Kristoff saw their sisters waving from the ridge. He saw Anna smile and his chest tightened, a joyful sensation that also made him wonder at his boldness in asking her. It was a good thing for his people. They needed medical help and she was good at it. But that wasn’t why his palms began to sweat at the sight of her, and why he was eager to seek out her company on the journey home.

***

Ryder nudged Anna. “Look, you can see it now, just there.”

Anna’s eyes shifted to where Ryder was pointing. She saw the rise of a dark mountain, stark against the white clouds. It looked like it could be a column of smoke. Anna wondered if it was as hostile to life as it looked.

Up close, its craggy edges were sharper than it had been at a distance. It was beautiful, but in a way that gave Anna a tingling feeling on her spine. It was entirely unknown. It didn’t seem friendly like her mountain. This one was dark, with exposed roots and crumbling boulders and loose dirt giving her the sense that the mountain was trying to escape itself.

“Ryder, doesn’t it just seem...dangerous to you? This mountain?”

Ryder clapped her on the back. “You’re just homesick for our Earth Giants and their greenery. It’s the spruce-firs that make The Black Mountain look like that. Kristoff told me. Up close I bet we’ll see life.”

She was eager to get to know it. What if it was a friendly mountain, but no one ever asked it to be? She made Ryder promise that they would go explore the first chance they had.

That’s why, after a few days of welcomes and learning everyone’s names, setting up the medical supplies in the cabin, and ensuring the Northuldra reindeer were following the rest of the herd, Kristoff found Anna and Ryder climbing an outcropping of rocks at the base of the mountain about ten feet above a meadow. And while the cliff wasn’t particularly high, the grasses of the meadow were unlikely to provide much of a cushion for their fall. It looked to Kristoff like they were both about to cause themselves serious injury.

These were the people he had brought back from Northuldra, the people he had promised his tribe would help bring about a year of renewal and health and security after a year of loss. Two people about to jump off a cliff.

“What are you two doing?” he ran forward, stumbling over roots in his haste.

Anna looked around. “We’re introducing ourselves to your mountain. The Earth Giants enjoy making paths and slopes for us, so we thought we’d give your mountain a chance to do the same.”

“That’s not how it works here! Please, turn around and come down this way.” Kristoff looked at Ryder, but Ryder was no help. He waved to Kristoff and jumped, a gleeful shout turning to a cry of pain as he collided with the ground. Anna and Kristoff scrambled down to where Ryder had collapsed on the ground and crouched over him.

“You can’t just jump off a cliff here! That was a ten foot drop!”

Anna felt Ryder’s legs and ankles. “You seem whole. Just some nasty bruises.” She stood and looked back up at the mountain. “I suppose it doesn’t want to talk to us like the Earth Giants do.”

Kristoff shook his head. “That’s what I told you! I trusted you in your forest. Trust me here. That kind of magic doesn’t happen!”

Anna nodded and he nodded back, relieved. “I’m sorry. I am trying to learn how things work here. I’ll keep learning and asking.” Her mind turned to the promises she had made Yelana about representing the tribe well. She stood and her back scraped against the rocky overhang. Anna stroked the rock face and whispered. "I'll be back," then looked at Kristoff, a smile on her lips. “I’m kidding! Of course I won’t. At least not to jump. Maybe just to talk. Anyway, let’s get him back to my cabin.”

She offered Ryder her hand and she and Kristoff both lifted him up. They supported him on either side, and when their hands brushed along Ryder’s back, Anna felt his fingers grip hers tightly. Together, they hobbled back to the medical cabin, where Anna situated Ryder in one of the cots.

***

Although he had no obvious fractures or serious injuries, Ryder was bruised and sore enough that he didn’t work with the roaming reindeer for the first few weeks he was there. Instead, he stayed in the medical cabin and mixed and pounded and dried and measured whatever Anna told him to. Eventually, she ran out of tasks for him and sent him to help with skinning and tanning.

Anna was always falling those first few weeks. On a walk with Kristoff to survey the herd she tripped on the uneven terrain. Kristoff righted her by grabbing her elbow and then kept an arm around her waist as they continued walking. Anna flushed at the contact, enjoying the feel of his large hand on her waist, which occasionally strayed to her back or her elbow to guide her as they continued their loop around the grazing grounds.

She blamed her clumsiness on the absence of the North Wind. “She always righted me whenever I stumbled! I was this hopeless in Arendelle too. I fell into the fjord the first day just trying to look into the water.”

Kristoff laughed. “Did you know how to swim?”

Anna nodded and then laughed as well, remembering. “I know how to swim, but I was wearing Arendellian clothing - dresses with layers and layers of fabric underneath - and I couldn’t swim in all that. So I had to pull down the bottom petticoats and emerged from the waters onto the pier without boots or stockings or crinolines or pantalettes. People were scandalized.”

Kristoff continued laughing and Anna noticed as his neck and face began to flush red. He ran his fingers through his hair. “That’s probably something everyone still remembers to this day.”

“I’m just glad it was a warm day. If it was a day like today, I would have frozen solid before I could climb out of the water.” Anna shivered and Kristoff moved his arm to go around her shoulders.

“Are you warm enough? What do you need?”

“I’ll be fine. The first chill of autumn always feels worse than actual winter, don’t you think?” She reached her hand up to grasp his hand that was on her shoulder, wanting him to know that his touch was welcome, and turned her head to look at him. His face was a little red still, no doubt she’d embarrassed him with her talk of stripping in the fjord. “Do you ever swim here? On purpose I mean?”

“Sometimes. In summer. The lake where we harvest the ice is too cold but there are other, smaller ponds.” He smiled, and Anna saw him duck his head and look at her under his lashes, so long that she had the urge to reach out and run her fingers over them to see if they felt as silky as she guessed. “But we also have hot springs. Have you ever been in one?”

Anna frowned. “No, but I remember stories my mother would tell about them. Will you tell me about yours?”

Kristoff grinned. “Let me show you.”

***

Kristoff promised he would take her to the hot springs soon, but between training the apprentice ice harvesters and meeting with the elders - most of them as young as him because of the outbreak - it was another week before he was able to do so. Anna had just finished treating a minor burn on a young woman named Seara when she heard a knock on the door.

“Kristoff! Come in!” Anna opened the door and Kristoff ducked to enter. The ceilings were tall but the doorframe wasn’t, and he had to contort himself a bit to fit inside. It gave Anna a slight thrill to see.

“Oh! Seara! Hello. I was just…”Kristoff’s voice trailed off and Seara smiled at him.

“Anna was helping me; I got a lick by the fire tonight making our meal.” She lifted her bandaged hand to show him. “I’m glad you brought her with you. What a treasure she is! ”

Anna and Kristoff both blushed at that, Anna busying herself with putting away her salves and cloths so that she didn’t have to meet Kristoff’s eyes. She knew he was becoming important to her, and wondered if she was becoming important to him. Maybe even treasured. For reasons other than treating injuries on his people and tending to the health of the reindeer.

Seara said her goodbyes and left, and Anna and Kristoff were left alone in the cabin.

Anna spoke as she closed cabinets and folded cloth. “I’m happy to see you. It must have been a busy week for you; I usually see you at the evening meal but I haven’t this week.”

“I’ve been with the ice harvesting crew; it’s not time to harvest and deliver now but I’m training the new ones in how to cut and load it up. When spring and summer come; they’ll know what to do.”

She had finished cleaning up and stood awkwardly, unsure if she should offer him some food. He had stayed by the door, hat and mittens on, his pack still strapped to his back. “I’m glad you haven’t given up on trading and harvesting.”

He smiled. “No, and I haven’t given up on taking you to the hot springs either. Can you go now? I know the way in the dark, and I have a torch ready.”

“Sure!” Anna reached for her heavy cloak and her own hat and mittens, the unfurling banner of excitement in her chest spurring her to be fast about those tasks.

As they left the cabin, Kristoff lit torches for both of them from the fire at the center of the row of kotas and cabins, and led her by the hand towards a path Anna had not yet explored. The path was long but well worn and easy even in the dark. After about a half hour of walking, Anna grimaced at a sudden strong, foul smell.

“What’s that?”

“That means we’re close.”

“My father told me about hot springs that smell, but I never imagined it would be so strong!” Anna laughed. “My eyes are watering!”

From the light of the torch Anna saw a pool of water shrouded in a layer of steam. Kristoff took her torch and his and stuck them in ground near the edge of the water.

“You’ll get used to the smell. If you got used to the smell of reindeer, you can get used to this.”

“I suppose that’s why you didn’t put the settlement right here though. It would take a lot of getting used to.” She pulled off a mitten and reached down to touch the water. “It feels wonderful! Are you ready to get in? Do we...just . . .take our clothes off?” She blushed to say it, and wondered how much the dark would hide them from each other.

Kristoff had already taken off his hat and mittens but paused, and though she couldn’t see the redness in his cheeks in the dark she suspected it was there from his stammered explanation. “Yes. Well, not if you don’t want to, though I suppose I should have told you to bring another set of clothes if you wanted to get in with your clothes on; it’s too cold to walk back wet. I did bring blankets to dry off with. But we can come another time, we don’t have to do it tonight.”

She looked at him and began taking off her boots. “No, I don't mind. It’s like the saunas in Arendelle, you have to get naked first.” Her fingers went to the clasp on her cloak, and she took that off as well, putting it on top of her discarded boots. “Which hmmm, is maybe why they’re so popular. I didn't like them though, I hated being shut up behind a closed door, even if it is wonderfully warm and steamy inside.”

Her hands went to the silver buttons on her belt and he turned around, speaking loudly over his shoulder. “I’ll, uh, I’ll get in first. And close my eyes. And then you can get in.”

She turned around as well, smiling, and started unbuttoning her cloak. For a man who invited her to an activity that required nakedness, he seemed remarkably nervous about it. She found it endearing. Perhaps he was as excited as she was to be having this adventure together.

She continued undressing and then worked to tie her hair up on top of her head. When she heard the splash of water that meant he had entered the pool, she took off the last of her warm layers and hurried into the water. She sighed upon sinking into the water.

“I don’t care what it smells like, this is amazing! I haven’t been this warm since July!”

Kristoff laughed to see her so happy. “Can you touch the bottom alright? It’s not too deep?”

“No, it’s perfect.” She looked at him in the dim light of the torches and the brilliant but distant light of the moon and saw his broad shoulders and grinning mouth. “I can’t believe I ever thought you were an irritable jerk.” She drew closer to him and placed her hands on his bare shoulders. “Thank you for showing me this, for taking me here.”

She was close enough to see him swallow and his chest rise and fall as he took some shallow breaths. She was very aware of how naked she was and how naked he was, and between the smell of sulphur and the heat of the water and the pressing darkness and the disorienting closeness of his breath and body she felt light-headed. It felt like a dream; this place felt even more enchanted than her enchanted forest. But instead of wind and water and fire and earth being alive, it was every part of her that seemed to be conscious. Every pore in her skin, the hairs on her arms that were wet and warm, the pads of her feet touching the soft bottom of the spring, it all felt like it was full to bursting. She looked into Kristoff's eyes to see if he felt it too, and she leaned in closer, her hand moving to his face to stroke his beard.

“Kristoff -”

An owl swooped out of the tree, its wings inches from their faces. She jumped back, splashing into the water, her hand going to her heart. He swatted at the air and said “It’s just an owl! Looking for his breakfast. It’s alright.”

He reached above the water and offered her his hand. She took it and whatever spell had fallen over her before seemed gone. Again she was Anna, he was Kristoff, and they were enjoying something new together. Companions and friends. And if she wanted something more from him, she wasn’t sure how to ask or tell him and he didn’t seem to be either.

So instead she told him more about the traditions she was learning as she acclimated to Black Mountain. “The way you set snares in the antlers to catch the wild reindeer! I hope Ryder’s learning how so we can do it back at home.”

And he told her how the apprentice ice harvesters were learning everything very quickly, even the work songs. “I didn’t think they’d want to sing - ever since the illness we haven’t had much music - but they asked and I taught them and I think it helped them work steadily. And maybe even enjoy it.”

When Anna drew a hand out of the water to show Kristoff how wrinkled it had become, he said that meant it was time to get out. “Too long a soak makes it dangerous instead of healthy. Time to get out when you start water aging.”

He got out first and wrapped himself in a towel, then stood at the edge of the pool with his back turned to offer her one. They dressed in silence and walked back with hands held, and Anna wondered if holding hands was all he ever wanted to do with her.

***

Kristoff came over the next day carrying a large bundle.

“What’s this?” Anna wiped her hands on her apron and took the offered pile of blankets and furs.

“When I was here last night I noticed you didn’t have much for warmth. It’s cold now but it will be even colder soon and I don’t want you to suffer the chill. Especially being so slight as you are.”

She hung the furs on the one chair and then spread the blankets on the bed. “They’re beautiful. Do you know who did this weaving?” Her hands traced the pattern of interlocking antlers on the border of the blanket. It had taken quite a lot of skill to do that.

“My mother made it. It’s our family symbol.” He hand froze and she looked up at him.

“Are you sure you want to part with it? I’m sure what she made must be very precious to you.”

“It is precious to me. But I want you to have it.” He broke their eye contact and looked down, shuffling his feet a bit and taking off his hat. “I think she would have liked you. She always said patience and kindness were the most important ways to lead. And I see that in you.”

Anna felt her cheeks grow warm at the praise and continued stroking the fabric. “I’ll remember those words and I’ll think of her and thank her when I use it. Thank you.” There was a long moment when she thought he might say more and when she thought she might hug him in thanks, but she felt frozen on the spot, humbled by the gift and his words.

He cleared his throat. “Do you need any help? I don’t go to the ice lake today so I will be nearby. Is there anything you need?”

Anna nodded “Yes! My mother gave me some seeds for an herb garden. I know it’s too cold to plant now, but could you help me stake it out? I wanted a place near the cabin, but I didn’t know what land to use or what’s already claimed or being used by someone else.”

Kristoff put his hat back on. “Easily done. Let’s do it now.”

***

After they walked around a plot of land by the cabin, Kristoff stripped a few low lying branches from a nearby tree and began to cut at them with his knife. He sharpened the ends into points and gave them to Anna who drove them into the ground. She paused in her work to wave to Seara, working nearby on gutting some fish.

He wondered if Anna would be here in the spring after the calving to plant, or if this was something she was readying for the next person to occupy the medical cabin. His heart felt tight at the thought of her gone.

He had been so relieved when she agreed to come to the Black Mountain and since then had only enjoyed her company more and more. He thought she liked being with him, but it also seemed that she liked being with everyone. She was kind and friendly and funny and it made it very hard to know if she liked him in particular. He didn’t want to make her feel uncomfortable by having to ward off advances from him. He had offered her a job and he was in charge of her safety and comfort while she remained with the Black Mountain. He thought of his mother's words for the second time that day, that patience and kindness were how a good leader treated his people. He could be patient.

Anna accepted another wooden stake from him. “You’re almost as strong as an Earth Giant. ”

Kristoff smiled. “Almost?”

“Yes. And definitely easier to convince to help me. The Earth Giants require more compliments first.”

He laughed. “I think I should be offended that my help is only slightly better than that of a giant made of stone.

“No, be flattered. They’re basically sentient mountains. Very strong. And you’re definitely better company.” She smiled at him and his knife almost slipped in his hand. He took a breath and reminded himself. Patience. He wanted to see her smile every morning when he first awoke, but he could be patient.

***

Night fell early in the winter months, and sometimes Seara and the other young people would light a fire, brave the cold, and spend time together before sleeping. Anna and Ryder often joined in unless Anna’s medical expertise was needed elsewhere or Ryder was still chasing down an errant reindeer. Anna knew that even if she hadn’t seen Kristoff during the day, he was likely to meet her here at the fire, and he was likely to put his arm around her and tell her about something silly that Sven did or something entertaining about the formation of ice on the lake or something frustrating about meeting with the elders or something worrisome about disease or food stores or harsh weather. There was no end to what he carried for his people in concern and care and Anna tried to ease the burden by listening. She loved hearing him talk about his people and admired how much he cared about their well-being and how much thought he put into planning for their future.

Tonight, Anna watched as Kristoff walked up, sipping something that looked hot out of his guksi.

“Mmm, what’s that? It smells good.”

“Mulled wine. From your forest, actually. Or maybe Arendelle. Anyway, we brought it back after visiting the Northuldra.” He offered her the guksi and she accepted. She sipped and then sighed, wiping her mittened hand across her mouth and returning the mug to Kristoff.

“I think it must be from Arendelle. Very warming.”

As he put his arm around her, Anna couldn’t disguise a shiver of pleasure than went through her body. She stilled, but he noticed.

“Are you too cold?” His concern was evident in the downward tilt of his chin, his furrowed brow.

“Oh, I’m fine. The furs you gave me help a lot. And Ryder keeps the fire going at night and it’s nice having his body heat in the cabin; keeps things warmer.”

Kristoff pulled his arm off of her shoulders and straightened his hat clumsily.

“Has Ryder injured himself again?”

“Oh, he’s fine. I just like having him around. Things aren’t so lonely with him there.” Anna shivered again and rubbed her hands together, the wool of the mittens rough against her nose as she rubbed warmth into it. How could her hands and nose remain cold while her chest and middle felt flush with heat? It must be the wine.

“Have you been lonely here?” He fiddled with his hat and Anna wondered why he wouldn’t put his arm around her again. It seemed she was always wanting to touch him more than he wanted to touch her.

“A little. It’s like home but not. I miss my family and the spirits.” She grabbed his hand, wishing she could feel the warmth and calluses of his hands through their mittens, something that had become familiar on their walks and work together before the cold had settled on the land. “I’m not lonely when I’m with you. You’re a kind and calm leader and I like learning about the customs here.”

“I thought...well I didn’t think Ryder slept in your cabin. I didn’t know he did that.” He shuffled his feet a bit and Anna realized what he meant. Was this why he kept stopping short of kissing her? Of claiming her as his? They acted like friends but she had begun to long for more with each interaction.

“Oh! No! Ryder is just my friend. We just sleep. I have the bed, he has one of the cots.”

“You...just sleep in the same cabin. But not together? You’re not together?” Anna nodded, her heart racing, hopeful that Ryder would go along with this sudden plan of hers.

“Of course! Come sleep in my cabin tonight. Now. Just you and me. You’ll see. We will not be together like ‘that’ all night long.”

Chapter 1

Chapter 3

#kristanna #northuldra AU #frozen fan fic #anna #kristoff #ryder #Anna moves to the Black Mountain

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grazhir · 5 years

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Muddled

So, of course, Thanksgiving Day I wake up with...? Yes, you guess correctly. A migraine. Fuck you very much. That aside, I have been messing around with the 1.4 update for Stardew Valley. Married Sebastian again, because of course I did. His 14 Heart scene is adorable. Sadly, one of my cosmetic mods seems to be fucking with the warp points for the greenhouse. They didn't before, damn it. I can enter the greenhouse, but I'm outside of the entry, in the black. I have to toggle a noclip mod on so I can actually enter the place (and then back off). Le sigh. (Well, I hope it's cosmetic, because I'd rather not have to use a different map replacement for the standard farm. Guess I could start a second save and do some testing...? Actually, the greenhouse mod I have in there doesn't even register. I was seeing the bog standard vanilla greenhouse interior. Yeah, maybe a second save on the new map and cheat in the stuff for the Greenhouse bundles just to see if the greenhouse is behaving there. If it is, it might well be the map I'm using, which'd suck balls.) Whatever, yay for noclip. Haven't done anything with sewing, mostly because the only cloth I have is from recycling. I waited until late summer (?) to add in a barn and coop (fishing is great for making money, but you can still only catch so many a day), and a few days ago (relatively speaking) I could afford to (and did) upgrade both so I could add ducks and goats. Still need to finish clearing the farm (I'm in mid-Autumn right now) because the map I'm using is huge. But it's nice because it has the grass done up to show exactly where sprinklers should go, various buildings, etc., and fenced in areas for animals (you just have to add two fence pieces + a gate to each side). I only cleared one so far (if I can't afford more buildings, why bother, right?), but I'm getting closer to being able to afford the next set. Community Center is nearly complete, surprisingly. I am missing: truffle, duck feather, red cabbage (of course, no luck with that wagon yet), apples (3), and a nautilus shell. Here's to hoping the wagon lady will pony up the goods. I'm not holding my breath. Got three ponds. One with I dunno, one with sturgeon (for the caviar), and one with sunfish (they also drop those little sun things you normally get off mine enemies, solar whatevers). I may add more ponds. Dunno. Yes, at least one, for squid, so I can get ink. Or I'll ditch the I dunno pond. Speaking of which, it's annoying that you can't empty a pond and stock it with something new. You have to demonlish the fucker and pay to rebuild. I saw no option to refresh one. I guess all the random shit the fish ask for to be comforable does something funky to the water. Why the sturgeon wanted pickles, though... Except for the Legend (Spring) and Winter fish, I've caught all of 'em. Waiting on Winter to get that legendary, the ones I'm missing, and of course at the Night Market. I did add a mod that lets you get anyone up to 10 hearts platonically. The trigger is giving a bouquet, as before, except now it's 8+ hearts. On the unfortunate side, I don't think it (yet) alters the heart events that would come across as romantic. In other news (*snerk*) Legacy of the Dragonborn is now tentatively due in mid-December? I was hoping it'd be ready for Thanksgiving, but oh well. I can see at the Discord that they're opening and closing tickets all over the place, so it's not like there's no progress. Not planning to update to 1.5.97 (2.0.17) until SMP is updated (should that ever happen. Haven't actually checked in a few days). Why bother if what I have is working? The new CC stuff isn't anything I much give a shit about. Still chugging away at Samsara 4. Somewhere in chapter seven at the moment. Took me forever to figure out what the goal was for where they presently are. That just means I have to figure out how they're going to accomplish it. Set in Naruto, though the "ending" is elsewhere, of course, and a set-up for down the road, rather like how them landing in Spira was set-up for something in S4.

#rl #stardew valley #sdv #skyrim se #fanfiction #writing

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dansnaturepictures · 3 years

Photo

05/09/2021-Blog 1 of 2: Wonderful waders, Wheatears and more at Lymington and home: My first Curlew Sandpiper of the year and more

On a very sunny and warm day I enjoyed Woodpigeon in the garden, bee coming in my room briefly and loved seeing lots of Small White butterflies in the back garden especially one I got close to when walking through to go out this afternoon which I took the second picture in this photoset of where I also enjoyed the flowers in the garden again especially hebe and sedum starting to come into flower and noticing some fleabane in the garden one of the flowers I am most fond of seeing outside for the first time seeing this lovely yellow one in the garden so another big garden flower highlight for me this year. I also took the third picture in this photoset of a red flower and on the way back through the garden with it still very sunny when back home I took the final two pictures in this photoset of flowers in the garden enjoying the alyssum and chrysanthemum again too.

We then came to Lymington in pursuit of Curlew Sandpiper and Little Stint that had been around as always key September bird targets for us. Fitting for the day #WildflowerHour occurs on Twitter as is so often the case I had a strong botanical start to the walk as I noticed more lovely sea aster on the fringes of Eight Acre pond at Salterns Sailing Club where we parked near a flower I noticed within this reserve but further along at Pennington for the first time this year last weekend and then I saw it’s purple and yellow lookalike some stunning Michaelmas daisies glowing in the sunshine as we got onto the path including the one in the fourth picture in this photoset I took today. I first ever saw these here and they are one of my favourite flowers to look for in late summer and early autumn at such areas. Also one I knew before my big delve into flowers. So it was lovely to see them today. I also saw the key for the area rock samphire my first of the year of these too beautiful quirky shaped green flowers and as the walk went on ragwort, bindweed, yarrow, carrot and the first broad-leaved clover I’d seen in a while looked great.

Walking on towards Normandy lagoon where the two wader targets of ours were reported at and I saw my first of a long stream of glorious Wheatears this afternoon. It was exceptional to see this exotic and striking species flying around and settled on the ground and on posts, including the path and the bits of land on the lagoon. I very much enjoyed seeing some of the most I ever had of them in one day for this migrant that is passing back through areas like these on the way back to Africa currently that I have seen so much of this year quite notable for a bird I was seeming to see a little less of the past couple of years perhaps so this is really encouraging. I got the sixth picture in this photoset of one among others I tweeted on Dans_Pictures tonight. We saw another colourful delight around this area when a smashing Kingfisher darted around over the lagoon and channel beside it the first I’d seen for a little while and key bird here so this was great. I also saw my first of a strong amount of Curlews today at this point probably my most at once this year which again is very encouraging for this species who’s decline and struggles have been well documented with them flying around a lot and seen still. I took the fifth picture in this photoset of one.

Then we had the moment of the day when on Normandy lagoon we spotted the almost snow white plumage of the juvenile Curlew Sandpiper on Normandy lagoon as it was illuminated by the bright sun. It was special to make out its splendid patterned back too. We got one of our best ever views of this species building brilliantly on last year’s some of my best ever views at Farlington Marshes in September. I took the first and seventh pictures in this photoset of this bird. It was extraordinary to watch this wonderful bird sparkle as it waded in the shallows of the lagoon and rested on the shingle nicely too with Dunlin and Ringed Plover around nicely for comparisons particularly of size with the Curlew Sandpiper considerably bigger. I was in my element watching this species some amazing views of one of my birds of the year and my first of the species in 2021. Fittingly for a bird that was involved here in at the time my 2014 year list overtaking my 2013 one to become my then highest year list, it took my 2021 year list to 177 levelling my 2014 total to make it my joint sixth highest ever year list with my totals in 2019, 2018, 2017, 2020 and 2016 higher than this with the final totals in that order. Another amazing moment with my year list this year and something I am so pleased to get to. And I feel so very lucky and humbled to be able to say that it means its another month that I have now definitely got at least one bird year tick in, my chain of getting at least one year tick in every month since November 2015 goes on. It was great to see both Curlew and Curlew Sandpiper well today not something I’d noticed happening a lot before I may have seen Curlews on the same day as Curlew Sandpipers as it’s always the right habitat but it hasn’t stuck in my mind before.

It’s remarkable over the years how many times on the same day as seeing my first Curlew Sandpiper of the year I see my first Little Stint of the year too or it’s the next year tick after it or the one before they are both around at the same time of year after all and are a real due for me. We then walked around the rest of the lagoon getting quite near to Lymington town to see if we could see the Little Stints that had been around too but we didn’t manage it today. We did see some more incredible waders though. With very big numbers of Ringed Plover and Redshank throughout the afternoon and some Redshanks on the mudflats with the tide out mostly were making a racket which was so delightful to hear with their high-pitched call and it was noticeable to some other people walking which was interesting, the former one of my birds of the weekend after seeing them yesterday at Hill Head too. There were also loads and loads of slick looking Greenshank today, as there quite often is at this time of year. It was fantastic to see them with memorable views of three together on the lagoon and one flying on the mudflats the other side of the sea wall from the lagoon too which I hadn’t often seen before and I photographed as tweeted tonight I have had a top few weeks for these as one of my stars of Rutland Water when we went last month and had a good year for them. Spotted Redshank were on the lagoon too. On the shore with some Redshanks and then later behind the fence of the lagoon quite close to us with a Lapwing was a shiny golden Bar-tailed Godwit with its upturned beak and name providing marking on its tail feathers. A wonderful bird to see another of my birds of the year which it was thrilling to see again in 2021 and I felt so lucky. I took the eighth picture in this photoset of one.

Wildlife Sightings Summary: My first Curlew Sandpiper of the year, two of my favourite birds the Little Egret and Kingfisher, Redshank, Spotted Redshank, Greenshank, Black-tailed Godwit, Bar-tailed Godwit, Curlew, Oystercatcher, Lapwing, Dunlin, Ringed Plover, great views of Grey Herons I took a picture of one with my bridge camera which starred today rather I took all but two of my many bird photos today with it which reminded me of the first picture I ever produced with the bridge camera I believe in this month three years ago of a Grey Heron at Titchfield Haven I don’t think I envisaged at that stage how important this second camera would become for me with all the help for birds further away and with ID so its exciting to celebrate the three years for me, Cormorant, Black-headed Gull, lots of Herring Gulls including many young, Mallard, Tufted Duck with a shine in its eye, Wheatear, great views of Stonechat and Reed Bunting too, Whitethroat, Feral Pigeon, strong view of a large Raven, a Swallow nicely fairly late on at the place I saw my first of the year on Easter Sunday which seems an age ago now, Small White, Brimstone, Small Heath out late as they often are at this type of habitat, another butterfly I couldn’t quite see what either Peacock or Red Admiral and dragonflies I couldn’t quite see which as they were flying fast.

My next post has some landscape pictures I took today and more reflections on the day.

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justmeinfact · 5 years

Text

Maxel fic

Chapters 11 & 12 of my fic “Home is where I am” are now posted to ao3.

You can find chapter 11 here.

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Chapter 11

Despite our differences we all need human connection.

In Axel’s acting classes they’ve talked about this - the need that includes us all, not only for skin to skin but also for a feeling of belonging, being safe and understood. We crave it to be able to fully live, and loneliness is one of the hardest things for a human being to carry.

For the story of season 3 to become real, Axel and Maxence must connect, not only as actors, but as the young men they are. They are intelligent, bright even, and understands that this will take some work.

The building blocks for true human connection are difficult to pin-point. Talking about it, they figure that at least it starts with knowing a thing or two about each other, and that maybe, from there you find out if you are lucky enough to be able to relate, through similar values and a sense of fellowship.

To put it into simpler words, between the daily rehearsals at the white house behind the stone wall and the constant sending, discussing and re-sending of changes in the script through email at evenings (and nights) - they spend an awful lot of time together.

Paris is a metropolis and there is no time to do it all, but they kind of try.

Axel and Maxence works their way through a dessert table of carefully chosen leisure activities, such as a football match (neither of them are truly interested), some bar-hopping (that was fun!), listening to music at the library (Axel notices that Maxence’s music taste isn’t electronic at all, he is the most bohemian music lover of all times), playing pool (at some dark smoke filled place that seriously could need a bit of renovations) and some serious coffee drinking, and they finally end up…

...at Maxence’s parent's house.

It seems like Maxence haven’t been able to shut up about Axel since they’ve met and Maxence’s mom are now dying to meet this astounding (Maxence’s choice of words) young actor that Maxence are supposed to co-act with.

Maxence’s mom, a good looking blonde middle aged woman, is equally proud of her now-being-an-actor son and can’t shut up about him either.

This calls for Axel finding himself with another cup of coffee in his hand and a piece of coconut cake already in his stomach, sitting in the living room at the big and comfy sofa (with a chaise longue), next to the maybe not too expensive, but certainly beautiful paintings on the wall.

On the much bigger and cleaner coffee table than Axel found in Maxence’s small one bedroom apartment, lies a thick and very full baby-blue photo album.

On the inside of Axel he is laughing hysterically, because Maxence’s face keeps getting redder and redder for each page they turn.

When Maxence’s mom beamingly flips the album over and shows him an enlarged photo of little Maxence sitting in the tub, covered in poop and she says “oooh, here darling Maxou had an accident” Axel quickly excuses himself…

...goes into their big expensive fully tiled bathroom, flushes the toilet, and laughs until the sound of the water circling down the bowl no longer muffles his noises.

Exiting the front door of Maxence’s parents big villa, Axel casually looks back at Maxence and says “come on, darling Maxou”.

At that, Maxence's face goes all red again.

Sitting next to a tree on the scuffed benches in the park on beautiful autumn days, talking about what happens when you fall in love, is interesting to Axel. Being an extrovert, always talking, rarely reflecting, he has never truly thought about what it feels like. Maxence, on the other hand having an indubitable analytical mind, has the ability to paint the picture for Axel.

After feeding the ducks in the pond (another planned joint activity - they must be going nuts), Maxence starts talking.

“For me it’s about the touch” Maxence says, sitting next to Axel on the bench, squinting towards the afternoon sun while the birds searches for seeds by their feet.

“It’s like -” he continues, “my heart is in my hands. If I like someone I want to feel them in my palms. When I love someone I never want to let go. I have this constant urge for physical touch, to stroke and rub and hug. I can feel my body’s quiet hums turn into a roar of need...and then I want to taste.”

Axel quietly wonders to himself if he has ever truly felt the same.

#skam france #maxel

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kookiebunnii · 6 years

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mono.

Autumn had a weird way of sneaking up on you. This morning, you happened to step outside your door to face an immediate ambush by freezing winds and swirling orange leaves. It was definitely a shock to the bright sun you were used to these days, but a welcome one. These days, you were always tired and melancholy-- so the fact that the weather was changing to reflect that couldn't be called a bad thing honestly. Today, you chose to dress relatively plainly. Nothing about your caramel overcoat or black cap called attention, and you were grateful for that. It was your free day today, and you wanted to spend it alone and de-stress. In your backpack, you carried a sketchbook and a notepad with your favorite array of pencils. The plan for the day was to hop on a bus, pick a stop, and explore. Along the way, you'd find a cafe or park bench to settle down and just observe. This practice became somewhat of a habit, because you felt that getting out of your head was becoming an increasingly nagging need recently. There weren't many people at the bus stop, since you had picked a time where the buses just began to run for the morning. As you glanced at the people next to you, you watched as a businessman straightened his tie before giving pointed glares at his wristwatch with growing impatience. In seemingly direct contrast, an elderly woman gives you a serene smile while clutching an array of bags, seemingly in an effort to be one of the first customers at the local farmers' market. Witnessing all this, it made you wonder at the amount of lives in world, all running in different directions, crossing paths, running parallel but never to touch, or being cut short at the end of a journey. Within your lifetime, you couldn't even hope to know the path of a single percent of earth's occupants entirely, let alone comprehend your own with clarity. After all, you knew who you were, you were [FullName], [Age] years young with an affinity for taking random walks and documenting interesting things you saw. But could you honestly say you knew yourself? That you loved yourself? The answer failed to manifest on your tongue, so you swallowed and pulled out your phone. As you slipped your earbuds into their familiar home to rest within your ears, you selected RM's mono playlist and set it to repeat. This collection of seven songs was recently released, and as you listened carefully, you couldn't help but feel that the melodies encapsulated your recent moods perfectly. Especially on a quiet, thoughtful day such as this, BTS's leader had outdone himself again. As the sound of trains and sad piano notes filled your head, you couldn't help but consider Namjoon's talent once again. You remembered his energy, filling and expanding the whole stadium when you attended one of BTS's concerts a few weeks ago. There was no doubt that he was a leader, a man who knew a lot more than what he chose to show publicly, and an artist who was quite literally bursting at the seams with songs the world needed to hear. His bright smiles, energetic dancing, and genuine appreciation for ARMY never ceased to amaze you. Although it hurt to see diminished cheering when RM appeared across the screens, you found solace in watching his dedicated and informative vlives and listening to his lyrical genius spread throughout BTS's many albums. However, you almost felt a shift in your heart when he released mono, amidst a world tour nonetheless! He was truly opening himself up and speaking himself. It was so raw and so real that it made you wish for nothing more than the ability to tell him, in person, how amazing he was and how loved he was. You were going through a tough time right around the time of the playlist release, and he had quite literally saved you. The bus arrived, the strong scent of gasoline and loud screeching of its wheels bringing you out of your little stupor. You gave the bus driver a smile and a nod before heading to the back of the bus and looking outside the window at the lazy, crawling streets. This time, as the same businessman from earlier also boarded your bus, he was angrily conversing over the phone. "Do you know who I am?" he shouted, face tinged red before quieting down after noticing the way passengers stared. In a daze, your fingers automatically moved towards pulling your notebook out and reaching for a pencil in the depths on your backpack. 'Do you know who I am,' you quickly scrawled on the empty page before hesitating and skipping to the line underneath it to add, 'Do I know who I am? Because I don't, so much so that my meaning can't be found within or outside of me.' You stared emptily at these words before turning the page over so you wouldn't have to look at them anymore. The bus was beginning its movement now, so you settled for enjoying "seoul" in silence. As the third song of the list ended with finality, you exited the bus along with a crowd of others. Everyone quickly hurried off to their known destinations, leaving you behind to take in your surroundings. You weren't entirely sure if you had been to this part of town before, but you were sure you wouldn't get lost as long as you had your phone handy. Within a few steps, you caught sight of a park filled with heavy-breathing runners and small families feeding ducks in the pond. Crossing the street immediately, you hurried over as puffs of air emitted from your mouth before disappearing in the cool air. You loved the way the leaves almost seemed to change color against the bark from the trees. As a particularly energetic toddler rushes past you to chase a fearful duckling, you smiled and sat down against a large and worn tree across the water. Although the boy fails to capture his prey, he seems to have thoroughly enjoyed the chase as he runs happily back to his parents with open arms. The father raises the child into the air with a shout before settling his son on his broad shoulders and having the petite arm of his wife looping around his own. The family of three walks away from you and you watch, unashamed, as the woman rests her head on him in content. Your pencil scratches against the smooth surface of the paper as you document the boy and duck chase, making sure to highlight his laughter before turning the page to include the silhouette of the family you had just witnessed as their stunted shadows reflect on the pavement below. As "everythingoes" begins, you close your eyes and feel the beginnings of a smile tugging on your lips. A little "dah" escapes you lips with each beat before you open your eyes. A man stands perhaps a few steps away from you, so close to the edge of where land meets water that you fear a single push would have him tumbling in. Perhaps he had been standing there earlier when the family was still present, but this time, you notice him because he is facing you and despite his hat and facemask, his eyes hold your own. As he begins to slowly trudge towards you, the moisture seems to disappear from your mouth in an instant when you realize he looks awfully, awfully, similar to the artist who's voice you're currently enjoying with great enthusiasm. By the time he is standing over you, his tall frame making you feel even smaller with you on the ground, your heart is beating a mile a minute. The hand clutching the pencil shakes against the page, so you tuck the utensil into your pocket. "May I sit here?" Even his voice echoes alongside the one that whispers against your ear, and you couldn't help but think that, against all odds, Kim Namjoon was here. "Sure." You scoot over and watch as he folds his self down, his lanky legs stretching out before him in comparison to your own that are crossed over each other in shyness. Although he is not touching you, his warmth radiates off him in waves. Waves that pulled you in and pushed you out. "What are you listening to?" he asks, lowering his mask to help you hear him better. You'd know that timbre anywhere. "I-It's a new release from one of my favorite artists...a playlist of sorts," you swallow thickly and refuse to make eye contact with the man. "Playlist?" Pulling yourself together, you sighed before replying, "Yeah. It's actually really popular and successful right now. I like to listen to these songs when I need to forget and remember."

"What do you mean by that?" he's looking at you this time, dark eyes holding your own and this time you felt that even if this were all a crazy, wonderful dream-- fate was giving you the chance to say everything you had wanted to say to him. "My mind is always noisy. Throughout my days it becomes filled with the words of others, the accusations from my own thoughts, and the fear spoken by my heart. His work helps quiet that noise and reminds me of simple truths that get buried under my worries."

"What do you think those truths are?"

"That we're all here for a reason. A purpose. In that process of living our lives there's plenty of setbacks, but we are loved. We are strong, we will find who we are and speak ourselves without shame," you bring your pencil back out and scribble on the right corner of the page. He glances at your drawings from earlier before whispering, "I think those are some good truths." As soon as the last word escapes his lips, the sudden downpour greets the two of you with ferocity. The shock of the initial droplets splatters against your scribbles, smearing the lead while running grey rivers across the snow-white canvas. Perhaps his response is quicker than yours, because you find yourself clinging to the side of the blonde-haired boy as he raises his coat over your heads. With one hand grasping your sketchbook and the other twisted into the side of his sweater, you feel your heart beating against your chest as the beginning pitter-patter of raindrops from "forever rain" mixes with those resounding in your surroundings. By the time the two of you duck under the awning of a cafe, you watch as the heavy drops gather at the edge of the awning before crashing into the gathering puddles below. Really, how big of a coincidental cliche is this? "Are you alright?" he asks, taking your shivering form in with a concern genuine and it warms you up immediately along with the realization that you were still clinging to him like a lost child. Dropping your hand quickly, you cleared your throat before continuing, "Y-Yeah...but," you shake your wet sketchbook with a dejected smile. He lifts the pages up to regard them closer, brushing your fingertips in the process. "I'm sorry," he apologizes, "But they're still beautiful. It's a concept!"

You laughed, "You didn't make it rain RM, don't worry about it." He regards you with surprise before fidgeting with the band of his black facemask nervously and you bite your lip in frustration that you had let his name slip. You didn't want him to be uncomfortable if he knew you were a fan. He was likely taking a break of his own, and the last thing you wanted to do was make him feel like he needed to return back to RM instead of Namjoon. "Hey." He looks down at you when the word escapes you with a quip, watching you write something quickly in the driest section of the page and tear the whole sheet out of its binding. "This is for you. I'm glad I got to meet you today. I've always wanted to tell you how much respect and appreciation I have for you both as an artist and a person," you offered him a small smile before adding, "I have to go now. But thank you Kim Namjoon, for making this whole world a little brighter with your light." He looks like he has more to say, but as soon as you're certain he has a solid grasp on your drawings, you dash out in the rain with your hood covering your head as the RM in your earbuds sings gently, "forever rain..."

---------- Days have passed since you saw Namjoon, and as much as you've thought about it, you couldn't help but think it might have been a case of mistaken identity. In all honesty, what were the chances? Besides, you'd probably left a terrible impression anyways by giving him some ruined scribbles and a weird note. Scrolling through Twitter with a spoonful of cereal, you gasped and almost dropped your phone into your bowl of milk. Your couldn't help the tears falling silently down your face as you saw your own water-damaged picture looking back at you along with a note written in your messy handwriting. Simply, but warmly, the caption read, 'moonchild, you are the reason for my light.' a/n-- i decided to leave the note up to imagination, since i’m sure the things we’d want to say are different for everyone :-) i love “mono” so much i couldn’t help but write this even with a midterm in 12 hours so i really hope you all enjoy this!!

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