Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

“Parrot, just listen to me. It’s like you can’t even stand me anymore.”

“What?” He twists his entire body, full force, facing Wifies directly. His wings have flared up beside him, and suddenly Parrot’s birdlike traits are so much more apparent. His fists are agitated.

Flickers of confusion sparks in Parrot’s eyes, Wifies notices, and then it brews into anger. “I’m here right now, aren’t I? What more could you want?”

“Yeah, but you don’t even look at my face anymore.” Parrot makes sure to stare at him as he speaks, “I just want you to be honest with me.”

“I can prove it to you.” He takes a step forward, “And your stupid thinking is wrong, you brick. You know everything about me, probably more than I do myself.”

And at that, Wifies softens. Parrot is only inches away from his face, laser focused on fulfilling his promise as if this is just another puzzle he needs to solve. Wifies chuckles; Can’t this guy just take a break?

Then Parrot collapses. He wraps his arms around Wifies shoulders, squeezing his back. He notices the scars that have grown overtime after countless of wars. “I’m sorry.” He stays there, letting the words hang in the air incase Wifies wanted to accept his apology. He slowly lifts his head from Wifies’ shoulders and meets his gaze again. He really tries to take in every feature, like how he has a mole under both his eyes, but one is slightly larger. His bandana is slightly worn out and Parrot makes a mental note to get him a new one.

As Parrot stares into his eyes, Wifies grins wholeheartedly. “What are you thinking about?”

“Nothing.”

 “You’re so close now,” Wifies laughs, “I can feel your breath.”

“Just please be quiet.”

And at that, Wifies clams his mouth shut. He just stares right back into Parrot’s eyes, and gosh they’re so pretty. He also lets Parrot admire his, a quiet hum filling the frosty air.

“You have freckles.” Wifies says, more to himself than to Parrot. They stare at his rough hair and ruffled wings. 

“Well, yeah, I’m out in the sun half the time,” He tares his eyes away from Wifies’ and lowers his gaze. “Barely have time to ponder about these things when we’re being chased all the damn time.”

Wifies murmurs something about agreeing, how exhausted they are and just continues to gaze at Parrot. Their faces are almost squished together, a hug made of tangles of arms and legs.

And then Parrot slices the silence. His voice pierces through the air but still enclosed in the embrace. “Don’t move any closer, Wifies.”

Wifies doesn’t say anything for a long, long minute. Parrot gaze looks almost frustrated, but he doesn’t move away. “Why?” He manages.

“We’re friends, Wifies.” He feels the warmth condense into merciless cold. Parrot slowly unties his arms around Wifies and tries to fix his flared hair thanks to Wifies’ grasp.

“I know, I know.” He smiles, “Don’t worry.” The words feel bitter on his tongue, and his façade makes him feel ill. But he knows Parrot won’t notice. He’s safe.

Later, when he finds himself organising their chests, Where did you put the emeralds? And Parrot would call out from outside, busying himself with animals, It’s by the books!

Finally, swiping the sweat off his forehead, he grins. This cabin is really starting to feel like home.

And then, he feels something poke in his throat, and it hurts. It’s a sharp pang, and Wifies yelps uncontrollably. He spins around and grabs the glass of water and drinks it in one swoop.

He feels the water bob and soothe him. Nothing to be worried about. When he slowly lowers the glass, instead of an empty cup, a couple beautiful flowers occupy the glass.

They’re swamped in warm blood, but they’re absolutely gorgeous. These were inside of him? He remembers being told stories about children eating watermelon seeds and then the fruit growing inside of them, but never roses.

He hides them in his secret chest that even Parrot doesn’t know about. In it is also his scarp book — an embarrassing work in progress. He’s only made two pages so far, each one dedicated to an adventure of theirs.

 It’s a cheesy gift, but what else do you gift your best friend on Valentine's day? He considers chocolates and suddenly he’s reminded of the time him and Parrot spent a night in a forest.

Wifies had offered him a sweet, something he carries always, along with plasters, and Parrot accepted it but not before mentioning how he likes chocolates more than sweets. From that day on, Wifies always carried chocolate with him. Whenever Wifies handed him a chocolate, he was confused at first but later stopped questioning it after a while. He figured that this is just another Wifies thing.

So, he always offers chocolates which means it wouldn’t have any special meaning. Parrot would probably brush it off, Thanks dude. In conclusion, he opted for something more personal and something more himself.

He’s not good at arts of crafts exactly, but he loves the different layouts and trying to figure out the most flattering ratio between photos and writing using mathematics. The problem is he rarely gets the chance to add to it knowing that Parrot is always lurking.

One time, he had his rulers and pencils sprawled out at his desk and then he heard footsteps lurk in the neighbouring room. He panicked and shut the book, hiding it in a crevice as the door creaked open.

“Wifies.”

“Hi, Parrot.”

He narrows his eyes at the flushed Wifies but makes no comment. He was probably watching some ‘Grumbo’ compilation, Parrot presumes. He doesn’t ask. “I have something I need to get. I’ll be back tonight.”

Wifies leans, awkwardly trying to cover up the photo array on his desk. “Oh, what do you need? I can help.” He stretches in peculiar positions and Parrot is so, so confused.

“No, it’s something I need to do. And you should stay anyways.” He narrows his eyes, “You seem unwell.”

Wifies doesn’t remember the next few moments. A few murmurs and agreements are exchanged, and Parrot shuts the door, finally leaving. He collapses, face flat on the desk.

And thus, Wifies vowed to never open that scrapbook in a 5-mile radius of Parrot. He never actually found out what Parrot went on a mission for and makes a mental note to ask him later.

He pushes the book to the side and places the flowers in the chest too with the intention to study them later. A couple more blossom from his throat but that doesn’t mean it gets any less painful. Another sound of agony escapes him that he tries so hard to suppress and now he has become deathly afraid of Parrot’s animalistic senses kicking in and overhearing him.

The pain begins to subside as Wifies hears a shuffle from outside. He assumes Parrot is done outside and shuts the chest, making his way to the front door to greet him.

“Hey,”

Parrot drops the spyglass in his hand. He doesn’t respond, dumbfounded.

“…Is something wrong?” Wifies scratches his head, still standing in the doorway. “Did you run into someone?”

“Are you a vampire?”

And at that, Wifies laughs, “What are you talking about? Obviously not.” He tries to cover his laugh with his hands when he feels a cold liquid dripping down his chin. It’s viscous and sticky and red. He searches his brain for an excuse. “No, no! Trust me, I’m not. Uhm.”

“Are you sick, then? How did you even manage that in the hour I was gone?” Wifies shoulders relax, thankful that Parrot believes him so easily.

“Yeah, just a little. I think the chicken I ate was undercooked.”

“Genuinely, how do you survive? I can’t believe you’ve escaped countless escape rooms and this is what hurts you.”

“Yep.” Wifies smiles, “Raw chicken is my weakness.”

For the rest of the day, Parrot takes care of Wifies. It’s a soft and cozy evening, filled with mushroom soup, It would be so funny if this was a suspicious stew, Wifies had joked, Just be quiet and drink it, but Parrot wasn’t amused.

Wifies laid in bed whilst Parrot took off his bandana, carefully unwrapping it. Parrot sat beside him on a chair, aiding his needs. Wifies is thankful that he hasn’t coughed up any flowers yet because how on earth do you explain such a thing?

“Parrot,”

“What?”

“If I actually was a vampire, what would you do?”

Parrot doesn’t respond immediately. He just takes Wifies temperature again, busying himself with domestic care.

“Well, I’m half bird, so I can’t really complain.”

“That’s true.” Wifies shifts in his blankets, “Would you let me drink your blood?”

“Jeez, I can’t believe you. Yes, Wifies, I would let you drink my blood. Is that what you want me to say?”

Wifies grins, “Don’t worry, I would never drink your blood anyways,” Parrot only groans in response. “I’d just want your heart.”

Parrot shoves a spoonful of soup into his mouth, “Eat up,”

“Okay, okay.” Wifies chuckles. He grins from ear to ear but Parrot isn’t amused at all. “I think I’m feeling better now.”

”’Kay, I’ll head to my bed now.” He yawns. “Make sure you recover properly and don’t rush it.”

”Will do.” Wifies stares at Parrot’s figure become smaller and the door closing behind him. It’s only quiet for a blissful minute until something pierces his throat again. He feels the thorns of a rose prickle in his mouth. 

Chapter Text

The next morning, Wifies doesn’t feel any better. His eyes are puffy, and his hair stuck up in odd places. He’s spent at least half in hour in the bathroom trying to squeeze each flower out of his lungs before it bothers him later. Every inch of him was aching — and Wifies impulsively splashed cold water on his face to numb the feeling.

He grips the sink and stares at his reflection. He feels another flower crawl its way up from his throat; Wifies accepts its invasion. But this time, as he feels it creep up, instead of flat petals, an insect-like red spider lilly crawls out instead of a rose.

It’s some sort of ominous warning or some childish joke. This disease is forcing a garden out of him and it’s beginning to become physically straining.

“Are you sure this isn’t serious?” Parrot asked, narrowing his eyes.

“No, no, like I said yesterday. Probably some food poisoning.” Wifies smiles, “Sorry I can’t help around today.”

“It’s fine, just rest.” Parrot shuffles to sit next to him. “I’m nearly done renovating the last room.” He yawns and Wifies welcomes him into his space.

“If you spend this much time around me, you might get sick too y’know.”

“Yep.”

“I can’t believe you.” Wifies attempts to grin, but it comes out weak at best. “You would let me drink your blood, and you would risk getting sick for me?”

“You’ve been acting so odd recently.” Parrot dismissed the question. He just lets his wings curl around Wifies.

After a couple of sleepless nights filled with nightmares of falling into the void and countless bouquets of flowers formed, Wifies finally felt the pain subside. It was disconsolate at first until it became apart of his routine. Every morning, He tried his hardest not to question what the sudden sickness that blackened his senses was. He knew that —even if he didn’t want to admit it— that he was suppressing some sort of feeling and it was slowly eating him inside.

He manages to recover whether temporarily or permanently, he’s unsure, but he is greatly grateful his steps have a little more rhythm to them and he can finally stand beside Parrot again without the fear of collapsing.

However, It wasn’t long after Wifies had recovered that they were sprung into battle with some other players. A swish and slash — another piercing sound caused by a blade — another groan escaped his mouth.

“Over here!” Wifies shouts from the labyrinth-like jungle and Parrot spins around immediately. Despite the rapid nature of Parrot’s instincts, Wifies had already been stabbed through the gaps in his armour. The culprit had already made a run for it.

Wifies grimaces and groans. He feels his intestine throb and the next thing he knows, he’s hunched up on the forest floor. The sword had pierced through his sides and he feels himself physically recoil and jolt at the gooey sensation.

And then it blossoms: a familiar red rose grows from his throat, coated in the same blood that oozes out beside him. It’s a bizarre scene and he can’t imagine how horrific he looks. He coughs and feels each shutter shake his body. 

“Wifies, he’s gone.” Parrot says too quickly under his breath; his armour is slightly worn out and his cheeks are flushed. “Why are kids so good at fighting these days?”

Wifies tries to sit up, winces, and makes himself comfy on the floor instead. Parrot notices his dismay and shuffles closer immediately. “Let me bandage it for you.”

“It’s fine.” He attempts to get up again. “Are you sure we lost them?” Wifies pushes the flower out of sight using his arm. It’s excruciating to raise his arm, but it’s a compromise to avoid Parrot noticing the disease that has left him frail.

His friend’s eyes dart around, “Where do you keep your bandages again?” Wifies sighs and mutters something about it being in his pouch. “Tell me if it hurts.”

“Oh no,” He dramatically places his hand on his forehead, “You’re hurting me, Parrot.”  It’s intended to be a joke as Parrot hasn’t even laid a finger on him yet — but it didn’t feel like it was a complete lie. 

Parrot wraps one arm carefully and merticulouslly. He shifts over to get a better look on Wifies’ ribs and that’s when he notices: a soaked flower oozing beside Wifies’ gushing blood.

It happens so fast. “Is that why you were sick?” Parrot’s go so wide Wifies swears they’ll explode. He began to connect the dots— Wifies was suffering from lovesickness. “You were throwing up flowers.”

Wifies opens his mouth and closes it immediately. “I’ve never heard of that before.” He awkwardly laughs. Parrot looks almost angry but his grip doesn’t leave Wifies’ arms.

“I don’t understand.” Parrot’s expression shifts. “Just a few days ago, you wanted me to be more honest.” He accidentally pulls the bandage too hard. Wifies bites his tongue. “If you have some…” He waves his free hand around, “lovesick crush, you can tell me about it. It’s hanahaki’s right?”

Hearing someone say the word out loud hit him like a truck. It blasted his ears, and it pummeled his senses. It was a striking word and he felt everything crumble. He winced again and it made it seem all too real. He’s still collapsed on the floor, but in that moment he felt like he was tumbling into the deep, dark abyss.

“…Do you think so?” His voice comes out quieter than usual.

“I don’t know.” Parrot offers his hand to help him get up. Wifies palm hovers in the air for a couple seconds before accepting the offer and squeezing his hand. “You tell me.”

He shakes his head, “It just happened so quickly, Parrot. I’m sorry.” He lets his fingers rest on his throat. “I didn’t— I didn’t know it was a real thing.”

Parrot finished bandaging Wifies’ arm and ties it. “I don’t need you to stress about it. Let me get your cheek.”

Wifies doesn’t say anything for a while. Parrot figured it out snd he doesn’t know why he’s so surprised — Parrot is the smartest guy he knows after all. He is witty enough to figuring out the flowers but he hasn’t pryed further into the who he loves part.

Wifies just lets Parrot hands— the ones with the sharpest claws — craddle him with care. The pain still hasn’t stopped. Wifies has a feeling that it won’t stop anytime soon.

“This isn’t going to work if we aren’t honest with eachother.” Parrot mutters. His fingers don’t leave Wifies’ face. “Or with ourselves.”

“If I hadn’t figured out that you were coughing up flowers, would you have told me?”

Wifies tilts his head. He stares at Parrot’s hair flutter in the night breeze. It’s a gorgeous view, something scrapbook worthy. He opens his pouch and grabs the camera.

It’s a subtle shot. He takes two, one with Parrot solemnly gazing below and the second when Parrot realises he’s being photographed and has a slight irritated expression. Wifies chuckles. “What are these photos for?”

If Parrot still wanted to pry an answer to the first question, he gives up, afraid of the answer. “You’ll find out why soon, don’t worry.”

“I won’t worry.”

“I know.” Wifies smiles.

Parrot found Wifies hunched over with an array of flowers spewing out of him. He’s visibly frustrated.

”Just tell me please, for God’s sake.” Parrot furrows his brows, “It’s going to kill you at this rate.”

”You don’t understand Parrot. I can’t.” Wifies muffled cries echo throughout the room, weeping like a lost soul. He looks a mess: his hairband is tossed on the floor, his hands are soaked in his own blood, his hair is uncharacteristically uneven.

“It’s you Parrot.” It comes out as a shout — one that’s been suppressed for ages and came out roaring. It’s a cry for help from his heart, and he feels his whole body shake as he raises his voice at his very best friend.

“You should have told me before.” He shakes his head. “Are you serious, Wifies?”

“Please just try and see it from my perspective,” Wifies cries, “I’m sorry.”

Parrot doesn’t reply. He just lets Wifies sob into his shoulder, letting each of his nails claw into his shoulder blades.

“Please respond Parrot,” Wifies begs, “I’m sorry. It was stupid of me.”

Wifies stares into Parrot’s eyes. He’s unwilling forced to see his own reflection and feels repulsed. “I’m so sorry.” As the apology rips through his throat, another lily stings in his throat. It’s prickly and gruesome, but Wifies doesn’t jerk away from the pain, afraid of letting go of Parrot. A single release of the palm and that bird can sore away in seconds.

Parrot opens his mouth. He shuts it again.