#spring oc

Eggs and Lambs - Birth and Fertility.

Does your OC know much about the circumstances of their birth? (or creation, as the case may be) Who was present? Was it planned or expected? Was their arrival celebrated? Or resented?

Does your OC have an affinity for plants and gardens? Have they ever played an active role in harvesting crops or foraging for roots or mushrooms? Or is the actual production of the food they eat quite alien to their everyday life?

If your OC has ever given birth, was this a positive or a traumatic experience for them? If they have not or could not do so, then how much use would they be during a birth? Would they be confident in assisting? Or would they prefer to be far away from the process?

Was your OC considered to be a cute baby? Are there any pictures or keepsakes from this time in their life? If they were never a baby then what sense do they make of the helplessness and dependence of tiny babies?

Does your OC plan to have children? Or plan to have more children if they already have a child? If not, then is this because they dislike children? Or because they consider themselves unsuited to the task of parenting? Or for another reason?

Flowers and Sunshine - New Love and Romance

Would your OC be delighted to receive flowers from a partner or admirer? Or would they be slightly nonplussed - or even offended?

What would your OC consider a romantic gift or gesture if they were planning such a thing for someone? If they aren't romantically inclined themselves, then what advice would they give another person?

What would your OC wear to meet a new or prospective lover in the Springtime? If they are not interested in romance themselves, then what would they advise a friend or sibling to wear to match the season?

Does your OC's wardrobe change as the weather gets lighter and warmer? Does this impact how others see them? And is garnering certain reactions entirely intentional? If not from the wider public, then perhaps from a lover or partner?

Does your OC ever get crushes on other people? Or did they do so in their younger days? Do they remember these fondly? Or does recalling such things make them cringe?

Cleaning and Washing - Starting Anew

What old habits or negative behavioural patterns has your OC left behind? Was this something they found easy? Or did it take time and/or help from others?

Does your OC have any Springtime rituals? Either personal (spring cleaning or shopping for a new outfit for example) or traditional to their culture or society (a ritual dance or cleansing).

Does your OC need their partner or friends to hold them accountable when they are trying to make a positive change? Or do they prefer to quietly resolve to make a change and not involve anyone else in the process?

Has your OC ever burned or otherwise destroyed something that reminded them of unhappy times or experiences in their past? Was this part of an arranged event? Or something they did spontaneously or in anger?

What is a habit or behaviour that your OC wishes to modify or adopt in the future? What has held them back from making this change in the past?

Right now, you wish you could hide under your blanket and avoid everyone.

Not wanting to talk, you roll over, facing away from your dad, hoping he'll leave you alone. You hear Spring leave, but you can feel his worried gaze on you.

"Soo..." Summer sits at the edge of your bed, making you internally groan. "Do you feel any different?" After a few moments of silence pass, he adds, "Physically or mentally?"

"Physically, I feel awful. Mentally, I also feel awful," you hiss. You pull the blankets tighter around you.

Summer winces. "Acting like your mom and papa without their morning coffee," he jokes nervously. He hesitates. "I wish any of us knew how to help. We were just kind of... born Gods." He makes a gesture towards nothing. "Our power came to us naturally."

He's rambling about things you already know, but you don't comment on it, continuing to look the opposite direction as him.

"But I'm pretty excited to see what powers you get, if any," Summer continues rambling. "Maybe it'd be something badass? Don't tell your papa I said that word." He grins at you, but his smile wavers when you remain apathetic.

"Maybe my power will be turning people who annoy me into rocks," you grumble.

"Oof, tough crowd," Summer laughs softly. "Hey, kid, seriously... we did it for you. That isn't changing, but we're so sorry you got hurt. We weren't expecting it to be that bad."

You turn to glare at him. "But you don't regret what you did."

His smile falls. "Never."

After that, he doesn't try to talk, and you fall back asleep soon after.

...

A few days later, you feel better... physically, at least.

You wake up from a nap to see Spring has dozed off too, curled around you protectively with his face buried against your hair.

Hesitating, you slowly try to dislodge yourself from his tight hold. You manage to roll out of his grasp, slipping off the bed and sneaking out the door as quietly as possible.

Only when you reach the staircase do you sigh in relief. You have free roam of the house again now, but you aren't sure if your body is completely healed yet. Stairs shouldn't be a problem though, right? Surely you can handle stairs.

Descending slowly, you hold onto the banister, gripping it firmly as your feet touch the landing below. You relax your grip a bit before proceeding forward, hoping to make it down without falling or alerting your family's attention.

Unfortunately, fate does not favor you today.

You slip, tumbling downwards at high speed. You land with a thud on the bottom step. Groaning loudly, you lay there in shock and dizziness.

When you're cradled in a familiar lap, you blink several times to realize its Autumn, checking you over for injuries.

"I'm fine," you assure him, embarrassed.

At first, you're pretty sure you're lying to him, until you realize... you actually are fine. There's an ache where you fell, but it's not nearly as bad as it should've been. The lack of real damage is unsettling to you. It doesn't take a genius to figure this has something to do with your new God status. You'd rather not think about it for too long.

Autumn seems surprised too. He must've been thinking along the same lines.

Still, he picks you up. You wonder if you now have the same increased strength and could do the same to him if you wanted to.

"What happened?!" Spring cries, bolting out from the hall upstairs. Apparently he had just noticed you were missing and your little trip downstairs woke him up.

"They fell down the stairs," Autumn answers calmly.

"Oh no, my baby! Did you get hurt?" he frets, rushing down the steps to look you over for injuries.

Even if you were injured, he's so frantic that you doubt he'd find any if they weren't obvious.

"Spring, love," Autumn soothes, using his free hand to touch his shoulder. "They're fine. I checked them over."

That seems to calm him down, and his shoulders sag in relief. Then he turns to look directly into your eyes. "You scared me! Why did you leave without waking me?"

You avoid his glassy eyes. "You looked like you needed sleep." It was true; even though Spring was far from an insomniac, especially compared to Winter, he had been up much more frequently as of lately.

"Well, you still shouldn't walk anywhere by yourself so soon," Spring reprimands, though it's gentle.

Autumn hums in agreement, depositing you on the couch. "Agreed. At least for a few more days."

Even though you don't agree, you know arguing with them, especially Autumn, would be like arguing with a brick wall. "Where's Mom and Dad?" you ask instead.

"They're both outside. Cleaning up the yard and garden," Autumn tells you. "I recommended it as a way to get their minds off things, but I'm worried they're going to mess it up more." He drags out an exasperated sigh. Spring is the only person other than himself that he trusts with the garden and plants.

"How are you feeling, baby?" Spring asks, drawing your attention back to him.

"I'm... fine."

"Let me make you some lunch," Spring says, jumping up. "Sandwich sound good, sweetie?"

"Why eat? Not like I need it anymore." Despite that, you still feel hungry.

"You actually do," Autumn says calmly. "Just because you can't die of starvation, doesn't mean you won't become weaker and frailer if you don't eat regularly, just like when you were a human. This isn't up for debate."

Great. Just one more reminder how different you are now.

The door opens, and Winter gasps upon seeing you, despite having watched over you last night. You figure he's just surprised to see you active and out of bed.

He drops whatever tools are in his hand, and rushes over, looking like he wants to throw his arms around you and never let go. Instead, he stops short, kneeling on the floor, grasping both your hands. He looks worried to hug you, as if you'll break.

It's a little ironic how gently they've been treating you. You're probably more indestructible you've ever been in your entire life.

"Hi, sweetheart," Winter coos, looking like he might cry. His face brightens considerably.

"Hey, Mom," you return. It's hard to be upset at Winter the most. "You don't have to kneel on the ground for me."

"It's fine," he dismisses, kissing the backs of your hands. "I haven't seen you all day. Are you alright? How do you feel?" He glances at Autumn, who is hovering, as per usual. "Why aren't they in bed?"

Your guardian sighs, placing a hand on Winter's shoulder. "Calm down, dear. They slipped down the stairs—"

Winter freezes, panic clear on his face. He turns back to you quickly. "What?!"

"I'm okay," you rush to assure him. "Promise."

Autumn nods. "They're right. No injuries."

Winter's tense shoulders sag with relief. "Thank goodness." He smiles at you, then finally hugs you properly, squeezing you in his arms, though careful to be gentle with you. He places a kiss atop of your head. "My baby," he whispers against your hair. He trembles slightly, and you hear sniffles. "I love you so much. So very much."

Later, Summer comes in from cleaning up outside, and excuses himself to take a shower and change into clean clothes, and Spring comes back with your food.

It's painfully awkward. Everyone stares as you eat. Usually someone chats over mealtime, but everyone's quiet.

You aren't sure what to talk about, or if you want to speak at all. Everything feels... so odd. It feels like you're mourning your humanity.

To be fair, in a sense you kind of are.

Suddeny, you feel too sick to your stomach to eat. You put your half-eaten sandwich back on its plate. "I'm not hungry."

Autumn narrows his eyes at you. "(Y/n)," he says in his warning voice.

"No! You took everything away from me, I think you should at least give me the right to refuse to eat! I'm not yours, or anyone else's belonging, and you need to stop treating me like I am!" You stand up and nearly fall over, if not for Spring steadying you. "Don't touch me!"

He recoils, as if stabbed. Even Autumn is visibly taken aback.

Summer walks back in, toweling at his hair, which had been dampened from his shower. He notices the atmosphere shift instantly, frowning at you, then at his spouses. "Uh... what's happening?"

Winter puts a hand up to silence him, turning his attention back to you. "Sweetheart, we're just trying to help you. Please just lay back down. You don't have to eat yet if you don't want to."

You shake your head, wiping frustrated tears from your face with your sleeves. "No, I'm fucking done."

Everyone but Summer gasps at your language. It just makes you more annoyed.

"Leave me alone! Okay?!" With that, you stomp off, with Spring trying to go after you, but Winter gently pulling him back, muttering that you need space.

You don't want to be in your room anymore, not after several days of being holed up in there. You instead yank open the door leading to the backyard, taking the opportunity to sit at the base of a tree outside to think.

Nobody follows, likely due to Winter's advice, even though you're positive they were itching to.

Good. You need to be alone to collect yourself. It doesn't stop you from crying, hiding your face between your knees.

Is this the rest of eternity? Is this how it will always be?

You feel the tree you're leaning on shift. Turning your head, you see its dead, all the leaves that were on its branches falling in the wind. That's when you realize the grass beneath you is now yellow and crisp. You know for a fact they weren't that way before.

Was this something you caused? Is this proof of new power growing within you? Your heart beats rapidly in your chest. What's wrong with you?

Experimentally, you touch a stray daisy poking out of the ground near you. As soon as your fingers make contact with the soft petals, the plant wilts and dies right in front of you. It's blackened and decayed in seconds.

Your breath picks up, terrified by this new ability. In a panic, you scramble back, away from the dead flower and tree.

Yet every step you take, each place your fingertips touch, kills the nearby foliage immediately.

Once you reach the center of the lawn, you stare, horrified, at what used to be thriving plants. The work both Spring and Autumn have been working hard to maintain is gone. Or at least, everything you touched, including everything nearby what you touched.

You let out a small scream, alerting your parents.

Autumn is the first out the door, who stares at all the dead foilage with wide eyes, taking it all in.

Summer is next, but he doesn't even spare the dead plants a glance, rushing over to you. He tries to grab you, to make sure you're okay, to hug you and comfort you, but you violently flinch away. If he touches you, who knows what will happen?

"Kiddo..." Summer trails off. "It's alright, we can fix this—"

"What on earth happened?!" Spring cries, Winter right next to him.

Summer looks up briefly at them, and you take his moment of distraction to bolt in the other direction.

Everything still aches, but adrenaline pushes you forward. You run as fast as your weakened state can carry you, which is surprisingly quicker than you expected. You can't tell if that also has something to do with the adrenaline running through your veins, or if its part of your powers. You're pretty sure 'curse' would be a better word to describe it.

"(Y/n)!" Summer shouts. His voice echoes behind you in the empty woods surrounding the house. "(Y/n), stop! Come back!"

Last time, you ran away because you were trying to do yourself a favor.

Now, you're running away to do them a favor.

While running into the forest, you notice the entire area is wilting, just like the garden. The grass, flowers, and trees rot in the radius surrounding you, and it makes you so nauseous you fear you may pass out.

Your legs eventually give out, and you collapse onto your knees. Curling up in the fetal position, you try to make yourself as tiny as possible. You cry harder as your vision swims.

Distantly, you hear all your guardians' voices calling for you desperately.

It must be easy for them to figure out the general area you're in, you realize with dread, because everywhere you ran is destroyed by whatever awful power is coursing through you now.

You look down to notice there's glowing black lines from your hands to your shoulders, like fissures from cracked rock.

"They have to be around here," a voice you recognize as Autumn's says. He sounds determined and exhausted. He's close. All your guardians' footsteps are crunching the dead grass and twigs beneath them.

Logic causes you to stay in place. If you run, they'll either hear you or just follow the trail of dead nature around you. You just hope they'll overlook you.

You cry quietly into your arms, knees drawn against your chest to stifle the noises leaving your mouth.

"It's alright, baby," another voice speaks softly. Winter. He sounds the closest. "You don't need to hide. Please come out." He pauses. "We understand you didn't mean to kill all those plants. None of us are mad, especially me. Between you and me, I honestly hated those lilies."

It almost makes you smile, until realizing you must've killed those too.

Without even realizing it, a loud, uncontrolled sob rips from your throat. You slap both your hands over your mouth, but it's already too late.

Luckily, it seems only Winter was close enough to hear it. He finds you after scanning the surroundings, eyes widening once he does. A noise of distress leaves his lips. "Oh, baby."

As soon as he reaches you, he's knelt before you, pulling your hands away from your face.

"No, wait—" you choke on a sob. "Mom, don't..."

But nothing happens to him, or anywhere around him. His skin isn't rotting away from contact with you. His hair remains healthy and long. Nothing changes at all.

"I—I don't understand..." you hiccup. "How aren't you dying?"

Winter gathers you into his arms. He presses several kisses to the top of your head. "Gods are immortal. Humans and animals wouldn't be able to survive either, I imagine. We're unaffected." He gently shushes your distressed noises. "Hush now, baby. No harm done. You don't need to worry anymore, angel."

You're relieved to hear that, but you're still terrified nonetheless. Especially since you apparently now have the capacity to end life without even meaning to.

"I'm not an angel," you respond sadly. "I kill things just by touching them."

Winter stills, hugging you tighter against his chest. "Sweetheart... listen to me. You are not a monster. You're my child. Nothing changes that."

"I look like a monster right now," you respond. You show him your hands, displaying the dark crack-like fissures pulsating with energy.

He smiles sadly. "Do you remember my true form? I know I sure looked like a monster. It usually comes from a mixture of overusing powers and getting emotional. Over time, it gets easier to control." He runs his thumb over one of the thin markings. "I don't believe these markings will last more than a few hours. And even if they hypothetically didn't, none of us would ever see you as a monster. Even if you gained a new set of razor sharp teeth and only spoke in snarls."

You sniffle at his words. "What even am I the God of? Just... death, that's it?"

Winter strokes your cheek, drying your tears. His cold hands feel soothing, almost freezing your tears. "Maybe it's less grim. Me, your papa, dad, and mama represent the four seasons. Maybe you represent the cycle of time. Birth to death." He hums, pausing thoughtfully. "If your power can control decay and death, then it might be the opposite as well."

Opposite? Like creating life? You begin feeling hopeful. "You mean I can make things grow instead of just die?"

"I'm certain we can find ways to test that theory," Winter replies warmly. He scoops you up effortlessly. "Can I let them know we're over here?"

With a deep sigh, you nod. "Yeah."

He calls for them, and Summer is first to come rushing forward, before Autumn and Spring are quick to catch up.

"Oh, (Y/n), you terrified us," Autumn shakily whispers, taking you from Winter's arms to hug you close against him.

"I know, that was scary what happened back there..." you mutter. "I'm sorry I ruined your garden."

Autumn clicks his tongue, brushing a stray lock of your hair back. "Oh, pumpkin, that's such a small thing to be concerned about. None of us care about that. Are you all right?"

"I think I will be," you answer truthfully.

He presses his lips to your forehead, exhaling with relief. "Good." He squeezes you a bit tighter.

You look at Spring, who watches with teary eyes. "I'm sorry for snapping earlier, Mama," you mumble.

Spring shakes his head, stepping closer to lean against you and Autumn. "It's okay, you were overwhelmed. I wasn't mad." He wipes his eyes. "We love you so much. You scared all of us. Never do that again," he huffs wetly, making everyone else chuckle, including you.