I love it when the kids animated movie ends with some wacky character going "dance partayyy" and then a GREAT song starts to play and everyone is going absolutely nuts! And even better yet, the grumpy one of the group almost looks like he's not going to join in... but sike! then he does! and he boogies down just like everyone else, haha, even that ol' lump of coal can let loose every now and then, ey?
The year is 2042. Your daughter is awkwardly silent as she eats her dinner. “Something wrong sweetie?” She sighs and puts down her fork. “I was digging really deep in AO3 last night…Why didn’t you finish that coffee shop au?” It happened. Your past has come back to haunt you. Nay, it never truly left.
OKAY BUT WAIT. This has happened to me. Recently. Because I am old and I have things out there from previous fandoms with previous pseuds and one day my teenager begins a rant at me about people never finishing any WIPs on the pit of voles (which he does not call the pit of voles because he has No Knowledge of such a thing but yet he still reads on which I didn’t think anyone did any longer) and he points out an example to me of something I WROTE AND LEFT WIPing for ages and he has NO IDEA #1 that his mom wrote this and #2 How much it still haunts me to this day that it will. sit. there. for. eternity. because I am too lazy to pull it down.
warning: no spoilers, gn! reader, pining/soft sunday, Sunday info dumping as usual
summary: where Sunday will do everything except confess, and you just think he’s emotionally stunted.
a/n: i read about birds for this
halovian courting rituals
1. Gift giving. Like their close bird companions, Halovians participate in 'nuptial gifts,' a form of gift giving to a potential partner.
You were walking into the Oak Family Headquarters, Dewlight Pavilion, sent to deliver some letters. Although, you’ve been here before, it was still a bit nerve wracking to be in such a place, undetached from your usual position as a lower end employee.
The entrance to Oak Family Head’s office was right in front of you. You bite your lip, shifting the documents to your other arm and knock.
“Nightingale Famil-“
The door swings open. The family head holding the door stands to the side.
“Ah,” Sunday says your name, “it’s you.”
Your eyes widen, blinking a couple times. He remembers me?
“Yes, it’s nice to see you again Mr. Sunday. I’ve come with documents from the Nightingale family detailing a new plan for the dreamscape.”
He looks a bit disappointed?
He chuckles, then calls out to a lone employee, “you’re dismissed for today, I’ll take care of the rest.”
The Oak employee dips his head and leaves. Watching him leave fills a pit in your stomach.
“Mr. Sunday, is something wrong?”
Sunday sits up suddenly, “Oh, no. Not at all.” It’s that movement that makes you realize that he’s been fidgeting with something in his lap…Is he always like this?
“I guess I was just a bit surprised,” he smiles, looking down to the side. You caught him.
“Surprised? To see me?” Although Sunday and you have met a few times. It was always business, just like now—well maybe he did stare a bit intently at you before, but something really was different this time!
He looks up and sheepishly slides a box across the table. “Take it as…being a good part of The Family.”
For a few moments, your eyes set upon him. What is he planning? It’s a small box. Almost nothing could fit in there. You lift the top up.
You gasp. Earrings worth more than your entire life’s salary. You slam it shut.
“M-Mr. Sunday. This really isn’t necessary. I just—“ you ramble on. Sunday places his gloved hand on yours.
“Please, take it.”
Looking into his eyes, you realize that putting up a fight with the Oak Head won’t get you anywhere. You reluctantly take the box.
2. Preening. Similar to nature, touching a Halovian's wings is an intimate gesture to show one's interest in a romantic partner. Someone should never touch a Halovian's wings without asking!
Soon after, you come across Sunday again. This time at the Nightingale Family’s institution. You were putting away blueprints, plans and documents your coworkers left laying around haphazardly. When a familiar voice calls out to you.
“Good evening. Working hard, I see.”
“Mr. Sunday?”
He approached you, then looked around the room. He seemed to realize the situation you were in and scorned your coworkers. He mumbled something about you and moving to the “Oak Family.” As he spoke his wings were fluttering. They looked smooth and soft.
“You’ve been staring at my wings. Do they interest you that much?” He chuckles.
“Well, they are very pretty but—“
“Would you like to touch them?” A light blush spreads across his face. Despite that, he seemed perfectly poised. His hands clasped behind his back, standing straight and looking right at you.
“I-is that alright?” tumbles from your lips. You hesitantly reach out.
“I wouldn’t have offered otherwise.”
Upon touching them, Sunday’s wings twitched away from you before settling down. The feathers are soft and plush. Some are darker in color while others are more pale. They’re surprisingly fluffy. A bit like fur but more delicate.
The blush darkened, his gaze shifted off to the wall. His composure utterly broken, his hands fidgeted behind his back.
“Did you know that birds groom each other as a social activity? It occurs between…ma-members of a flock.” He sputters. What is he saying?
Your fingers stroking his feathers create a flutter within his stomach. He leans into the touch. Taking that as a sign to continue, you reach farther up, a light brush into the coverts of his feathers. Sunday gasps and pulls away.
“…You must take good care of them. Are all Halovian wings soft like yours?”
He wishes that moment would never end.
3. Song. During courtship rituals many birds of different species tend to sing and dance. While that is popular among Halovian people, some may chose show affection through instruments instead.
One day, a notice appears at your door. Upon examining it you realize it’s an invitation from Sunday, instructing you to his office within the Dewlight Pavilion.
Could it be about the documents you sent him last time? You wrack your brain for any possible explanation. He had been acting weirder than usual.
Heat build up in your face upon recalling Sunday’s recent appreciation for you. The earrings that are far too expensive to wear anywhere, and even worse—you bury your face into your hands. In a profound display of unprofessionalism, he let you touch his wings.
Still, every muscle in your body jittered with excitement, even though it shouldn’t.
♫ ♬ ♩
Suddenly, the closer you got, the more the hallway echoed with the sound of a violin. Slowly, you carefully stepped towards the sound, till you found its source.
Sunday was playing the violin. You couldn’t help but freeze where you were and watch him. He truly did look like angel. As he drew his bow across the strings, the light from the window shined down on him. His hair reflected the light appearing almost white. Was he always this beautiful?
Abruptly, he stands up, “You’re early. Sorry, I didn’t hear you come in.”
“Sorry, I didn’t mean to startle you,” you closed the door behind you, “I didn’t know you could play. What song was it?”
He places the violin down on his table and approached you, “It’s ‘Salut d’amor,’ one of the first pieces I learned how to play,” Sunday put his hand behind his back, “the dream master was the one that taught me.”
“It was very pretty, I can tell you’ve been playing for a long time.”
“Thank you.” A light blush spreads onto his cheeks, but it’s gone before you can realize it.
A loud silence sweeps the room. The two of you avert your eyes. This side of Sunday feels so different from what you’ve been told. He always maintains a professional barrier. But if so, what was this?
Sunday calls your name, “how do you feel about me?”
“What?” The question is so out of the blue, you must’ve heard wrong, “I think you’re a nice guy—“
“I meant as a partner, I thought you knew. Was I not obvious enough?” He mumbles over the last sentence.
“I—well—“ you stumble over your words. He was serious. The earrings, the wing touching, the invitation. You dismissed it as him buttering you up. The ‘most handsome man in Penacony’ as delegated by the latest magazines, had feelings for you?
Your face felt so hot, you felt as if you could combust into flames at any moment, “I feel the same.”
His expression softened. “That’s a relief, I don’t have to cancel those reservations then.”
“Reservations?! Mr. Sunday-“
“Just Sunday. I’ll pick you up later then,” he smiled, then placed his hand near your ear, as if looking for something, “Oh, but this time remember to wear those earrings.”
a/n #2: soft Sunday is real, did u see how protective he was of Robin in the quest? i need more hoyo. feed my delusion
