#(rock granny and sun dad..)

[xiaoluclair]

20. Clumsy attempts at flirting

and/or

29. Visiting their home for the first time

Lestappen pretty please!! ❤️ thanking you and loving you endlessly!

live scenes of me visiting your house for the first time under the cut

clumsy flirting attempts + first home visit // lestappen // [ rating: T ]

"You have," proclaims Charles, "the most gregarious set of spoons."

Max sort of wants to run him over with a significantly large bus. Or kiss him silly. His father looks like he does not know what to do. Is, for once, terribly out of his depth. Fuck, maybe Max does want to kiss him silly. Charles, that is, not—

"Thank you," his dad lands on before Max can offer a trip to the local depot or scar his old man brain with things far from P and–or G.

"And your cabinets!" continues Charles, banging into said cabinets with his enthusiasm, "almost as — ow —luminescent as your eyes." He practically leaps over to the faucet to twist it on until steam starts fitting itself to the window behind. “Gosh!” because Max brought home a 1775 housewife, "and this water, almost as hot as," his eyes slant to Max’s dad. Or, the fire hydrant that has replaced Max’s dad.

Max takes pity on him. "We will be going upstairs now," he announces. His dad makes a face like an agreeable sauerkraut. Charles follows Max with a wave and a wink over his shoulder and Max seriously weighs the benefits of murder versus jail time.

"What the fuck was that?" is what he says instead after the door has shut. "Actually, I know what that was — why the fuck was that?"

"Hmm?" replies Charles. "This is you and your sister?"

"Do not ‘hmm’ me — yeah, first time rock climbing — and could stop being nosy and answer me."

With a great, heaving sigh, like it physically pains him to do so, Charles turns around on the spot and takes his face out of Max’s shelves. He is grinning. Rubbing his hip and grinning. "I did nothing."

Max lets his head fall to one side. Hopes it conveys something along the lines of what a load of bull.

"Really," insists wide–eyed Charles, "I was just making a good first impression." He is trying to adopt a straight face and failing horrendously. His mouth is puckering like he is biting his own lip. Max is this close to biting it himself. He might if No grievous bodily harm was not #7 on the Fake Boyfriend: Conditions Of Use list.

"Just because you think he was a bit of a dick sometimes—"

Charles snorts.

"—more than sometimes," corrects Max, "he is still my dad. Plus, he is generally nicer now."

"I just think he could have been generally nicer a bit sooner," is the genial reply.

"Next time," huffs Max, "I am asking Lando."

Charles harrumphs. "Then have fun dealing with your 'boyfriend' eating nothing but baked chicken and granny dodgers."

He looks so smug. He looks so smug, Max wants to strangle him with the silly Ferrari bedsheets he’s had since he was thirteen. "Okay, first, no more terrible—" Max’s nose wrinkles and his stomach rebels violently, "flirting with my dad."

Charles smirks. Leers in a way that makes Max question if he is still fully clothed. "You think you could do better?"

Max shrugs. "At least I would know not to call his spoons gregarious."

"Prove it," retorts Charles. "Tell daddy his spoons are not gregarious." And then he gestures to himself.

"Are you my daddy," asks Max, "or the spoons?"

"Clearly," says Charles, "I am your daddy—"

Just as there is a knock on the door. Only after he has opened it does Max realize his mouth feels like something out of unforgiving sun. A dried leaf, curled up and into itself. He throws a thumb into it to rub it down into something less… manic.

"Your mum and sister will be here by six," his dad says. He looks mildly traumatised. Max wonders how much he heard. “They are excited to meet your... boyfriend." Probably more than he wanted to, if the way he cannot look at Max for longer than two seconds is any indication. "And the tank is full for you both to shower."

"Oh, thank you," says Charles normally. Max fails to take advantage of the sweet second of relief from the universe before: "Would you mind showing me how it works? I have always been quite a... visual learner."

Max has always wanted a bus anyway.

[badlypackedtraveller]

All the Dennis women.

Stop all the clocks, cut off the telephone

Prevent the dog from barking with a juicy bone

Silence the pianos and with the muffled drum

Bring out the coffin, let the mourners come

Let aeroplanes circle moaning overhead

Scribbling on the sky the message “Betty’s dead”

Put crepe bows round the white necks of public doves

Let the traffic policemen wear black gloves

The stars are not wanted now, put out every one

Pack up the moon and dismantle the sun

Pour away the oceans and sweep up the wood

Mum, granny, great-granny’s gone, as we always knew she would.

Well this is weird, isn’t it? As you know Betty didn’t leave extensive funeral instructions or, indeed, hardly any instructions at all. In fact, she was much more specific about what she didn’t want. She’d bemoan the waste of a penny needlessly spent or the value of a penny saved and was aghast at the expenditure at dad’s funeral. So here we are, thanks for coming, to send her on her way as best we can. If Sainsbury’s did own brand funerals I’m sure she would have had one.

The last five years have been a torrid time as mum’s deterioration into a dementia fog worsened. But let’s not define mum by the last five years, she was much more than that, and find some happier times to remember her by.

She certainly had her airs and graces but loved making mischief, she loved bossing dad about, she wasn’t averse to a bit of irreverence. She tried to poison me, you know. Twice.  On a visit to Sleaford she got Billy and Martha to help her make a crumble, with a purple crayon in it. When that didn’t work she tried again with a dismembered leg from one of Martha’s dolls. Famous in her kitchen for her Dundee cakes and my favourite rock solid, lumpy lemon meringue pie. She loved picnics and awful hats, she loved anything colourful, she loved her garden. Most of all she loved all her children, grandchildren, husbands wives and partners and was overjoyed to meet her great-grandchildren although she would wail “All boys, all boys, you would think one of them could have produced a girl!!” Martha/Vic/Amy, be warned. I think she loved the smallest children best, maybe something of the teacher in her. She loved it when the latest newborn grandson was plonked in her lap.

She loved her garden. There was a time when she could go round the garden and give you the Latin name to every shrub and flower. In her later years she loved to be driven along the front at Broughty Ferry, have a walk amongst the Rock Garden and pause for a moment at a bench in the sun. This would usually involve engaging some a hapless stranger in conversation too. Was it only last year that most of the family met at the little cafe there on her birthday? As a child I remember days out to Stately Homes or formal gardens and being put out of the car with instructions not to get in a mess. Of course, within minutes Dave would have splashed in a puddle, I’d stand in a cow pat and Liz would be perfect. I’ve a photo of mum and dad having a countryside picnic somewhere – dad dressed down for the occasion in his blazer, shirt and tie and mum in a white coat and court shoes.

She had green fingers. She could taking a cutting, stick it in a pot of garden mud and, hey presto, nine times out of ten it would flourish and bloom. Sue and I took a couple of tough, hardy Scottish rhubarb roots out of her garden to replant in Newark. How hard can it be to grow rhubarb? I’ll tell you. A few spindly stalks but mostly nothing, nada, zilch. Thanks mum for not passing on that gene.

We were asked if we wanted mum’s ashes. Dave and Liz said No, I said an immediate Yes. Of course, mum had to die sometime but I didn’t want her to go in the winter when the ground is hard and the plants are dead. I’m glad she went in the spring when the garden is coming back to life. So, I’m going to take mum’s ashes and sprinkle them on our vegetable patch and she can encourage new life and new things to grow. Mum will eventually get back to England and this year we’re going to have a bumper crop of Betty Tatties, Betty Beans and Betty Berries.

When we were clearing out Dad’s study I found a little booklet of poems. I’ll read one and then, as per mum’s wishes, we’ll have the lord’s prayer, then there will be a piece of music while Betty leaves us. Mum came to Scotland in 1964 and often said that she hadn’t had a decent green vegetable or felt properly warm since. Well mum, you’re going to be as hot as you’ve ever been in about an hour’s time I can assure you.

Do you feel downhearted or in need of friendly cheer

Come with me I’ll show you one who’ll lend a listening ear

Come with me to Betty’s for a cup of tea.

Maybe sometimes down a bit but hardly ever out

The kettle can soon be on, steam bubbling from the spout

Come along to Betty’s for a cup of tea.

Find the tea refreshing, with shortbread as a treat

Come and talk of family fun and fellowship so sweet

Come along to Betty’s, please say you’ll come with me

Yeah, let’s go round to Betty’s for a cup of tea.

Now the lord’s prayer, which we’ll do in silence. Many years ago I was at an RAF rugby player’s funeral. All blokes uncomfortable and not sure what to do. The vicar introduced it like this. If you don’t know how to pray think of it as a scrum. Prayer is making sense of the turmoil, get hold of the ball, hang on to it briefly then pass it out down the line. We’ll just have a minute now while we say our own private goodbye to Betty.

OK, Betty’s going to leave us now to a favourite tune. When you hear it I hope you’ll know what to do. Mum would love it. (Morecambe and Wise – Bring me Sunshine).

or this

Bye mum.

[declanfs]

December 3, 2023

Wow. So I spent a week in Oregon with titi Nelle and Zeke. I had a wonderful and amazing time, and I missed you so much! You had lots of fun with dads and stayed with granny and pa for 2 nights, and I think overall it was really good for both of us. I got some perspective on how I am my own person still, in addition to being your mom. I think you got even closer to dada and it seems like you want him for certain things and want me for other things and that’s great and how it should be. A year ago, this would have crushed me because you were my whole world and everything I did revolved around you as the son and sun of my solar system. I love you more than I ever have and this trip was really important to realize that we can love each other more than ever and also love other people more than ever and also do things with other people and our connection is rock solid. You know I love you forever and always, no matter what and nothing can shake that. In your words “you’re my best.” You’ve been telling me I’m your best boy and I remind you that I’m a girl and so I think your solution has been to jokingly call me your best boy because it’s funny and you’re a jokester, or when you’re serious and sleepy, you just say “you’re my best.” But also make sure to say how dada and Bella and kreacher and granny and pa and jt and Ryan and auntie Koko are your best. You have lots of love and are so loved.

Okay, but I wanted to engrave the memory of you at the airport into my brain forever. I was so so so excited to see you and dada after a whole week so I was racing up the escalator, my heart beating so hard and just feeling so much love and happiness knowing I would see you any moment. We met up at baggage claim 3 and I think we kind of spotted each other at the same time. I took my mask off and smiled and the look on your face was filled with so much love I could have cried. You were smiling but also trying not to smile and maybe also trying not to cry, I’m guessing just because of the flood of emotions that happens when you see someone you love after time apart. I crouched down and put out my arms hoping you’d run to me and I heard dada say “go get her,” and you’re little prancing run to me was all goofy footed and gallopy. Once you got to me, I scooped you up and hugged you so tight and you just melted into me. You didn’t let go for definitely over a minute, maybe 2, so I walked over to dads and just kept squeezing you so big. Declan, you are my best. I hope you feel it in our hugs and gentleness together, and see it in the way I look at you. I hope you hear it in my voice and in your internal monologue and in these words I’m writing to you. My love for you is so big. You are just 2.5 at this point, and I already love the person you are becoming and whoever you will become. No matter what.

In other news, we went to two birthday parties yesterday. Alex (3) and auntie Koko. For auntie Koko, we went to dinner at poco loco, then went to see the Christmas light show at meadow event park. You did an amazing job at dinner, being so patient and waiting in our booth. You had chips and salsa and rice and ice cream. You colored and played with the curtains and made your elephant raspberry sound. Then you watched blaze after probably 45 minutes. Really solid work for your 4th time eating in a restaurant!

At the light show, you got to sit in my lap for maybe an hour and a half in the car while we waited our turn to drive through and then for the actual show. While waiting, you helped my drive by yanking the steering wheel side to side and pushing all the buttons to turn on the windshield wipers and whatever you could reach. Then we turned on your nursery rhymes songs and it was so much fun singing them so loud with granny, auntie Koko, Ryan, and JT. you maybe liked that even more than the lights. You know all the words in the abc song now and you were so proud to sing it with your family. You were dancing and laughing and just were such a joy. You stuck your feet out the window and thought that was so funny. I wouldn’t change a single second, 10/10 night.

You kept saying you wanted to go back (meaning you wanted to sit in my lap), and JT was talking in his amazing British accent saying “we’re on another path now, we are going home,” like he was your fairy godfather or animal guide. So funny.

We visited pa and granny today. It’s wild that someday your foot might be as big as his and right now they’re literally half the size.

This is how I take a shower and take my time getting ready these days. You LOVE paw patrol and are basically a zombie if they go on tv. When it’s time to turn it off you will be sad for a minute but then we move on to something else. It’s been a tough thing to find balance.

Your shirt with moose and new rain boots. Size 3t shirt is a bit snug and size 9 boots fit well. 3t pants are too short depending on the style, but too big around the waist so we have to cinch them down. This is you saying “cheese.”

On the way home from the airport

Helping dada with his planks 😉

[dulcewrites]

I really love your fics! Can you write where Austin!Elvis meets your father? Can be 50s!Austin!Elvis or any other era.

Papa Don’t Preach

Pairing: austin!elvis x reader (wc: 1.8k)

Requested: yes (thank you)

Warning: mentions of religion, and allusions to purity culture

A/N: I honestly didn’t know what direction I wanted to take this. I had a couple of ideas and decided to work in the preacher’s kid x ab!elvis that i had like a month ago. Also I was inspired by the Moesha episode when Q comes to dinner at the Mitchell household lol.

“You and my dad at the same table?” you ask while twirling the chord to the phone around your finger. “That sounds like a recipe for disaster.”

Throughout your life, you have endured your fair share of lectures. But you can’t even imagine the one you’d be in for if Elvis Presley shows up at your door for dinner.

You even had to receive one of those lectures tonight.

You had promised Elvis that you would watch his Milton Berle performance, and he promised he would call you as soon as he could. Excited to have the night to yourself, you popped a squat in front of the family tv. You got to see half of the show before your parents came home from a church function earlier than you expected.

Elvis’s singing was then drowned out by the self-righteous tone of your father.

“Rock and roll music is the sound of juvenile delinquency young lady,” he said sternly, and added a finger point for good measure.

Your father walked over to the television and turned it off before going into the kitchen. You had looked over to your mama for help. All you receive in return is a sympathetic glance before she follows him into the kitchen.

“I just think if he actually knew me, he’d like me,” Elvis says confidently.

He’s not entirely wrong.

The irony isn’t lost on you. Your sweet Elvis, who sings you hymns on the phone, being the artist that makes your dad blow a gasket. It’s unfortunate because if Elvis wasn’t the singer he is, you have a feeling your dad would love him for you.

“I don’t even know how to go about bringing it up,” you reply.

Your parents knew that there was someone special in your life, but you have been extremely careful not to let on that the special person was the most talked about musician in America.

“Just say you want a friend to come over for dinner,” he says it like it’s the most obvious thing in the world.

Oh, if only it was that easy.

“So, give them no warning,” you sigh, laying down on your bed. “Do you really think a good start is me lying about who is coming to dinner?”

There’s silence from Elvis. You can already see the look of thought on his face. Brows furrowed, lips pouted, eyes downcast.

“I say we ask for forgiveness not permission.”

Elvis seems to be doing that a lot lately. It is getting harder. The lying and sneaking around; maybe it is time to come clean.

“I’ll think about it,” you need time to mull this over. “Now tell me about New York and Uncle Miltie. I want the full run down.”

You’re sure if you continue to pace that you’re going to burn through the carpet in the living room. But you can’t help it; the idea of Elvis being in your home sort makes you antsy. One trip to Graceland, Sun Records, and a few other places on Beale Street are the only places you two have been together. Even then, you both made sure to be careful. Now he’s going to be in your space. Looking at the baby pictures of you that hang on the wall, seeing the crosses everywhere, and sitting at the dining table your granny gave your dad when y’all moved into this house.

And to add insult to injury, your parents don’t know it’s Elvis coming. You took his advice and left the whole situation vague. Telling your parents that you were ready for them to meet the guy you’ve been seeing and left it at that; even despite the valid questions they had.

So, now you’re here. Heart racing, palms sweating, and pacing in the living room. Luckily your parents are occupied in the kitchen and dining room to notice your nervous energy. You jump when you hear the light roar of an engine; peeking out the window, you see a car pulling into the driveway.

A deep purple Cadillac and a silvery grey pinstripe suit. Subtle man, your boyfriend.

Before he can even get the door and knock, you rush out of door.

“Was the Cadillac necessary,” you ask, crossing your arms as watch him get out of the car.

He simply laughs and leans over to get something out of seat. It is a gorgeous car, but Elvis is literally the only person you know you can afford a new one. And the only person you know that would want that color.

“Hello to you too,” he walks over to you. “Looking beautiful as ever darlin’.”

You notice the flowers and bottle of alcohol in his hand.

“Are those for me,” you smile up at him, motioning to the roses.

“These are for your mama, but this is for you,” he wraps his free arm around your neck, and leans down and kisses you.

Your body instance relaxes into his side. You should be worried about your parents catching like this, but Elvis has a way of making your brain fuzzy. It takes you a minute to remember the situation you’re in, and you pull away dazed.

“Let’s get this over with,” you mutter against his lips. “And remember what we talked about on the phone.”

You conducted a fool proof script for this night. Well thought out answers to the questions you know your father is going to have. Only thing Elvis has to do is stick to the plan.

“I hope you like pot roast,” you say while opening the door. You see your mother sitting on the couch. Her movement falters a bit when she sees Elvis. She quickly recovers and puts a tense, but bright smile on her face.

“Sweet pea, I was wondering where you went,” her eyes go from you, to Elvis, to him holding your hand. “I see our guest of honor has made it.”

You squeeze Elvis’s hand, and he squeezes back. One thing about your mama, she will never be one to create a scene. In a moment like this, you greatly appreciate that.

“Mama, this is Elvis. Elvis, this is my mom,” your heart feels like it might beat out of your chest.

“It’s such a pleasure to meet you,” he lets go of your hand shake your mom’s. “I’ve heard so much about you.”

He hands her the roses, and she giggles. She giggles. Since when does your mom giggle? And here you thought Elvis’s charm only worked on people under the age of 30. Elvis winks at you, and you bite back a smile.

“Moms love me.”

The statement he told you on the phone days ago rings in your head. It’s kind of hard not to get moony eyed over him. Being that handsome and that charming should be illegal. With the way people respond to him, you’d think it is.

“Well, aren’t you sweet,” she sniffs the roses.

The moment gets broken up by the sound of your father’s dress shoes coming out of the kitchen into the living room. His eyes go straight to Elvis, before raising a single brow at you.

You know he would never be less than perfect in front of a stranger, even one he clearly doesn’t like. You just have to beat him at his own game to get through this night.

“Daddy this is my boyfriend, Elvis.”

The stern look, tough handshake, and clearing of the throat are all signs he’s not happy. But he’s not freaking out which you take as win.

“Ok, now that introductions are over. Let’s eat,” your mom breaks the tense silence in the room.

Your dad follows after your mom, and you know they’re talking about it in the kitchen.

“See, I told you,” you whisper to Elvis leading him to the dining room. “He talks a good game, but he wouldn’t dare let anyone see him sweat.”

Elvis just nods slowly, looking less confident than he did when he met your mama. Well, when he said moms love him, he didn’t mention the dads. Probably for good reason.

He pulls your chair out to the dining table before sitting across from you. Your mom carries in the pot roast while your dad sits down at the head of the table.

“Honey, why don’t you bless the food,” your mom sits down opposite of your dad. Your dad nods, a small smile coming over his face. Oh goodness.

“Let’s bow our heads,” he says, and you reluctantly bow yours, an uneasy feeling coming over you. “Father, praise You for the nourishment we about to consume. We have gathered to share this meal, and every meal in your honor. Bless it to our bodies.”

The grace starts out strong. It’s good… till it isn’t.

“And Lord, bless everyone at this table, especially my sweet daughter. May you guide her down the right path. May she stay the pure, child of God we taught her to be. May she not be tempted by any sin that will come her way. Amen.”

Everyone except your father give halfhearted Amens. Your eyes go to Elvis, who looks uncomfortable. Then at your mom, who to your surprise looks equally put off by your dad’s words. If your dad wants to be that way then fine, script be damned.

“You know what, why don’t we just lay it out on the table,” you look at your dad. “You clearly want to know if Elvis and I are having sex.”

Your mom lets an ‘oh my’, while Elvis chokes on the water he was taking a sip of. You can almost see the steam come out of your dad’s ears as he stares you down.

“We aren’t-, we’re not rea-, I mean I wouldn’t-,” Elvis tries jump in with an answer he thinks would be adequate.

You both know you haven’t taken that step yet. Honestly, much to your chagrin, Elvis hasn’t even come close to trying anything like that with you. Everything has been painfully slow with you guys. As if he’s worried, he’ll scare you off by trying anything.

“We aren’t,” you rescue Elvis from the panicked states he’s in. “Elvis has been nothing but a perfect gentleman since we met. And daddy, you should know better than to assume things about people before meeting them.”

You slump in your chair after your speech, glaring at your dad. Elvis still looks uneasy, eyes wide and brows furrowed.

“We know, and we trust you sweet pea,” your mom reaches over and grabs your hand. “The both of you.”

She says the last part a bit slower, like she’s unsure. But you appreciate her having your back. Your mom gives your dad a pointed look.

“Yes, we… trust you,” he mutters, clearly not wanting a fight with her. “But as long as you live under this roof, there will be rules to this relationship.”

You and Elvis share a look before you nod at your dad. It’s better than lying or having to sneak around.

“Good. Since that’s settled, let’s move to another topic,” your mother smoothed down her dress before turning to Elvis with a big grin. “I hear you signed a movie deal.”

Moms really do love him huh.

[heraldofcomingdawn]

Leaving Immortality Behind

It turns out, Rex Lapis wasn’t really dead.

Xiao wants answers.

(A missing scene of sorts, for that first confrontation.)

WC: 4,006

General Tags: Hurt/Comfort, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Father-Son Relationship, Xiao Centric, Xiao Needs A Hug, Adepti Found Family, Xiao's Karmic Debt Causes Him Pain, Minor Childe/Zhongli,

happy birthday, to my baby yaskha! i almost didn’t finish this in time, but i did it for him!

It took three days to find him.

It wasn’t that the man in question was difficult to find. How could it be, when the Conqueror of Demons had spent millennia by the man’s side, had witnessed his many human forms over the years and could spot the minute differences between him and the other mortals? When he could feel the charge in the air whenever the Geo Archon was near?

No, it was more like a small - yet still significant - part of the younger Adeptus had been purposely avoiding looking too hard. 

Well, he found him.

Part of him wanted to pretend he hadn’t seen him, wanted to turn the other way just long enough for the ex-Archon (and wasn’t that a punch to the gut Xiao hadn’t fully processed yet) to make his leave, so he could spend yet another night pretending his emotions weren’t currently battling inside of him, conflicting and confusing. 

He’d thought he’d be relieved.

He was relieved.

But Xiao was also angry and betrayed and confused and upset, and it was such a whirlwind of unexpected emotion that he wanted nothing more than to manifest his jade spear and tear it all to shreds. He scoffed at himself; emotions were so insignificant to someone who had lived as long - and through as much - as someone like him. They were trivial matters he thought himself to be above, yet here he was, feeling like he was drowning. 

“Eager to leave, Conqueror of Demons?” Moon Carver’s words still echoed in his head, as he settled into a sitting position amongst the green tiles that made up his current perch. 

Very much so. 

Perhaps it had been the wrong thing to do, to leave without ensuring Liyue Harbor was truly safe, but how was he supposed to face the other adepti and pretend like something sharp wasn’t sitting in his throat after the Tianquan regaled them all with the details of her dream with Rex Lapis? 

Rex Lapis, who until that very moment, they all believed to be dead. 

The very same Rex Lapis who was currently enjoying dinner at the table below him -  very much alive - and sitting across from a red-haired man that set his nerve endings on fire with the strange energy that radiated off of him. Energy that wasn’t so unlike the miasma that dripped off monsters and demons sent from the Abyss. 

His eyes narrowed as he took in the details of his Archon’s companion and tried to ascertain whether he was a threat to his Lord or not. The red-haired man laughed loudly, blue eyes crinkling in delight at something Xiao hadn’t heard. He waved a hand towards a young, blue-haired allogene and requested something in Liyuen that would have confused Xiao even if the other man’s accent hadn’t been so atrocious. 

Come and get what?

His train of thought went no further as he heard Morax gently correcting the other man’s pronunciation, and oh Celestia above, his heart clenched. 

He was alive.

Xiao had spent several days believing that the man who saved him, who was the closest thing he had to family in this strange new world, was dead. He had also blamed himself for a brief moment - and anger had coursed through him when it was the traveler who came and delivered the news, rather than his own keen senses realizing something was amiss - because what good was a Vigilant Yaksha, a sworn protector of Liyue, if he couldn’t even protect the very Archon he owed his life to. If he hadn’t even known until it was too late. 

Tendrils of pain snaked around his wrists and brushed at his temples. 

He clenched his hands into fists, willing the burden of his karmic debt to stay away for just a moment longer, but it persisted. Perhaps this was a manifestation of his guilt, an all-consuming wave of bitterness and regret at not being there when the Exuvia fell. Perhaps it was his senses warning him that the man sitting across from Rex Lapis - Childe, his Lord had called him - wasn’t as innocent as his pink-dusted cheeks portrayed him to be. His fingers wrapped around the phurba dagger he wore around his neck as he watched them interact.

Whatever apprehensions he held toward Childe were slowly abated as they both listened to Rex Lapis regale them with the story behind the name of their meal (and oh! Come and Get It was the rice bowl they were consuming. 

How absurd - why can’t mortals just call it what it is?)

It was familiar territory, however, to listen to the man’s long-winded stories of his nation’s history and its people that he clearly loved, and it soothed the sharp edges of Xiao’s grief as leaned back and let the former Geo Archon’s soft lilt and smokey timbre wash over him.

Rex Lapis was alive.

Despite his warring emotions over it - and the betrayal he could taste like iron on his tongue - it would have to be enough. He could find a measure of comfort in the scene before him. 

The sun was nearly set now, the sky a rich twilight blue. 

There were a few stars out, pale white and barely visible, but still present enough to make out the constellations he had long ago memorized. The bustle of Chihu Rock was beginning to die down as merchants packed up their wares and bid each other goodnight. Soft laughter to the right of him crescendoed as the doors to the Third Round Knockout were pushed open and people filtered out, their faces warm and bellies full of whatever food and spirit they had indulged in. 

Lanterns were being lit now, their warm yellow light casting away the shadows that threatened the corners of Liyue’s streets. The smoke that had been gently billowing from an opening on the blue-shingled restaurant across from him had died down, as the owners - the blue-haired allogene and an older man - began to close up for the night. 

“Xiangling, take this to Granny Shan before she goes home for the night, will you?” the older man asked his daughter, handing over a takeout container. 

“You got it!” the blue-haired allogene returned, her voice young and full of life. She hurried out the door and paused at the only occupied table left, smiling down at the seated patrons who were finishing their meal. “No rush, you guys! I’ll be back in a few minutes.”

Rex Lapis poured himself another cup of tea in response.

“What’s in the bag?” Childe asked, as he tried to fish out the last piece of meat in his bowl with the chopsticks he was gripping entirely wrong. Xiao’s eyes narrowed at the sight.

“Leftover pork and spring onion dumplings!” Xiangling replied, already walking away. “Dad doesn’t like food to go to waste and Granny Shan is such a sweet lady,  don’t you think? Who else better to give them to?”

“I couldn’t agree more.” 

This was Liyue at it’s finest, safe and full of warmth. 

For a second he can almost pretend he doesn’t hear the harrowing voices screaming for death or feel the pain that’s thrumming up to his forearms now. He can almost ignore the memories that threaten to overtake him every time he allows himself a moment of peace. 

The few days he thought Rex Lapis to be dead had blurred together. There had only been the steady weight of his spear in his hands and the familiar darkness that surrounded him whenever he donned his yaksha mask, as he lunged tirelessly and with a fervor that had worried the other adepti, as he seeked out every last demon and monster that dared to cross Dihua Marsh. 

If any of them had been responsible for his Lord’s death. . .

He should have been better.

Eventually, Cloud Retainer had caught up with him and all but pecked the jade spear out of his hand. He had scowled at her, hands shaking with exhaustion as he held the tip to her long neck and dared her to come closer. 

“One has been searching for you, Vigilant Yaksha.”

“One has found me.” Xiao returned, his voice sharp and mocking. 

“Put down your spear.” she commanded, looking down at him. “Rex Lapis’ death weighs heavily on us all, but one does not leave behind a trail of bodies like you have been doing.”

They stared at each other for a moment longer before he allowed the weapon to disappear in a flicker of light that reminded him of tiny crystalflies dispersing into the sky, but otherwise remained silent. 

“We must head to Liyue Harbor and seek council with the Qixing.” Cloud Retainer informed him, eyes narrowed as she studied him intensely. “It would be wise of you to come with. Their disrespect for Rex Lapis has gone too far - one should quash them for allowing such a thing to befall our Archon, but for them to sit idly by and do nothing while the Exuvia is stowed away. . .” 

Xiao hadn’t been able to withhold a wince at the words. 

Cloud Retainer’s voice softened at that. “If Rex Lapis has indeed been assassinated, then Liyue is in great peril, Baby Yaksha.”

“Don’t call me that.”

“We must not allow further disaster to bestow itself upon the land Morax loved - one promised to keep it safe, did we not? Rest for now, tomorrow we shall leave for the harbor.”

She hadn’t left him, but instead guided him to the top of Mt. Aozang where she dwelled, and left him to his own devices after gently pecking the top of his head. He had sat in a stone chair for the rest of the night, staring at Rex Lapis’ name carved into the table, and mourned the end of an era. 

His grief - his pain - had been for naught, hadn’t it?

“I have to get going now, xiansheng.” Childe’s voice cut through his thoughts. He straightened up a little and watched as the red-haired man stood up and smoothed out his grey jacket. 

“I understand.” Rex Lapis replied, his voice solemn. 

Childe grinned down at the man and reached into his pocket, pulling out a pouch Xiao could only assume was filled with mora. “Oh, don’t look so grim! I’d love to stay and chat a little longer, but there’s some business I need to take care of, before I leave.”

“Business that requires the stars to keep watch?” his Lord returned, and Xiao could detect a hint of knowing bemusement. “Very well.”

“Oh, sneaky! You know I can’t disclose Fatui business to you, Zhongli. The walls have ears, after all.” Childe laughed and Xiao’s annoyance at this man’s audacity for speaking to his Lord in such a way was derailed when he spoke Rex Lapis’ other name.

Zhongli.

So this was the name he’d chosen to introduce himself as, this time around. It wasn’t a new name, by any means, but it had also been a very long time since Xiao had heard Rex Lapis - Zhongli - refer to himself as such. Not since Guizhong was still alive. 

He watched as Childe paid for the meal and bid Zhongli goodnight, before making his leave towards Feiyun Slope. His crimson scarf flared out behind him and the metal grommets that decorated the fabric glinted in the lantern light. He thought he could make out the faint trails of wispy black smoke that followed him, almost caressing him like a soft breeze. 

There was something dangerous about that man and he thought to follow him, if only because Xiao had vowed to never allow demons to walk amongst the people of Liyue. Childe was most certainly mortal, but Xiao would never again allow his failure to dictate the future of the harbor.

Except he hadn’t failed, had he?

Because Rex Lapis was very much alive, with his chin resting on his hands as he watched the retreating form of Childe with a solemn look on his face, his abandoned cup of tea no longer producing steam. 

His grief had been for naught indeed. 

And the relief that had followed had been short-lived, almost immediately giving way to his anger. The same anger that curled in his stomach now as he thought of how Zhongli had been silent ever since the big reveal. There was a part of him that had hoped the Archon would seek him out first, to explain just why he had faked his death without letting the yaksha - or any of the adepti, for that matter - know beforehand. 

Yet three days had already passed and still nothing. 

“You might as well come down now.” Zhongli’s voice cut through the silence, his back still to him, and Xiao startled. “I think we’ve both put off this conversation long enough.”

Xiao stood up slowly and stared down at the other man. Zhongli had yet to turn around and truly acknowledge him, still staring in the direction of Feiyun Slope and his departed friend. He jumped down from the rooftop, landing on his feet with the lightest thud, and approached the table.

Zhongli looked up at him once he had taken Childe's place. 

This was a new mortal form Xiao had yet to see, but the locks of amber-tipped hair that framed his face and the eyes that shone like Cor Lapis that were present in every form Rex Lapis had taken, were the same. He eyed him warily, debating with himself whether he should speak first or not - whether he would even be able to produce the right words. 

“Hello, Xiao.”

“My Lord.” he whispered back, bowing his head.

“There’s no need for any of that anymore.” Rex Lapis smiled gently. “I am simply Zhongli now.”

Something inside of Xiao crumbled. “Zhongli.”

“It is nice to see you well.” 

The sharp feeling in his throat was back and he forced himself to swallow it down. He tried to take a breath, but it came out broken and staggered. Shame burned on his face at his unintentional show of weakness and he bowed his head lower. 

“Oh, Xiao.” Zhongli breathed out and his eyes were sad. “Let us take a walk, it has been a while since I’ve traversed the streets of Liyue with you by my side.” 

Their walk was directionless as far as Xiao was concerned. He trailed half a step behind Zhongli, eyes downcast, as he tried to compose himself. Anger was an easy enough emotion to grab onto, justified enough for the situation, and didn’t leave him floundering and vulnerable the way addressing his hurt did. 

He stopped suddenly and clenched his hands into fists again. The tendrils of pain were growing in intensity and he used them as a way to ground himself. Despite his anger, despite Zhongli’s desire to give up his throne, he was still the Prime Adepti, still his Lord, and still deserving of respect. Yelling at him, as cathartic as it would be, was pointless. “Why,” he began, then stopped to clear his throat, “why didn’t you tell me. Tell us.”

“I couldn’t.” 

Xiao raised an eyebrow and stared him down, refusing to accept that as an answer. 

Zhongli sighed. “I fear my answer won't satisfy you." 

"All I ask for is the truth." 

"I suppose I can give you that." Zhongli mused, but his expression was pained. He looked towards Mt. Tianheng and gestured to the other side of the bridge they were on. "Indulge me, first? I would like to finish our walk."

Xiao nodded.

They reached the peak soon enough. Zhongli stood at the edge of the mountain and took in the sight of Liyue Harbor. The outline of the wharf stood proud against the backdrop of the black sea, bathed in silver moonlight that reflected shapeless patterns on the rolling waves. The wharf was the pride of Liyue, the reason the land prospered as it had. 

It was a beautiful sight, even dark as it was with all the workers and merchants gone for the night, the last of the lanterns burned out. The Golden House glimmered to the right, that same silver light glinting off the metal finials that adorned its roof. In the far distance, the rock formations of Guyun Stone Forest loomed over the water. 

He shivered at the sight. 

The horizon was a beautiful one, carefully cultivated over millennia of hard work and bloodshed. The tendrils of pain wrapped themselves around him now and he held back a wince by sheer will alone, as he took in the stone spears placed by Rex Lapis himself. They kept the fallen gods pinned in place but the cost of their defeat still raged on as demons spawned. 

It was his duty to take care of them, one he did with honor, for he would give all he had in service of the man who’d freed him. Even if the Archon had passed before him, for this was the land Zhongli loved - fought for and created - and Xiao refused to let harm come to the only home he had ever known.

Behind them and to the left, the mountain peaks and ruins stretched on, crumbling rock structures that had been formed by hand long ago, now weathered and eroded into an open book that spoke of the nation’s history. 

Eventually the silence was broken when Zhongli decided to speak. "I think, if given the chance, there are many things I would do over," he began, "but I do not regret any of them, for when you've lived a life as long as I have, regret is something that can consume you.” He looked over to the ruins. “Even stone will eventually erode away."

Xiao stayed silent. 

"Saving you, however, is something I would do again and again."

"My Lord -" Xiao cut himself off. "Zhongli." he tried again, but it felt wrong to address him as such. Either way, he didn’t have words. 

Zhongli turned to look at him and gestured for him to step closer. He obliged and stiffened when the Archon placed a hand on his shoulder and squeezed it gently. "I am sorry for the grief I put you through. I know this isn’t what you want to hear, but it's also something I would do again."

Xiao winced. 

"The truth is, Xiao, I'm tired."

"I don't understand."

"I have watched over Liyue for nearly four thousand years. I've been alive for much longer than that. Eventually, you start to wonder when it's going to end. I have seen Liyue grow and prosper in ways I hadn't thought possible. I have watched Guili Plains crumble into the ruins they are today when once. . .once, they were home. Now it is a place no one else remembers." Zhongli's grip slackened. "Liyue doesn't need me anymore."

"Zhongli-" Xiao began, alarmed. 

"Breathe, my baby yaksha, breathe." Zhongli chuckled lightly. "It is not as you think - Liyue has simply grown past the need for Archons. It is ready to stand on its own two feet."

“I’m not -” he began, but gave up. “So you faked your death.”

“I believe that if I had simply stepped down, the Qixing would never truly step up. No, I needed to kill off the idea of Rex Lapis for good. The people of Liyue needed to understand that this was truly the end of an era.”

Xiao couldn’t stop the anger that laced his tone. “You felt this wasn’t something I - we - deserved to know?”

Zhongli’s smile turned bitter at the edges. “Before I could truly step down, I decided a test was in order, to see if Liyue was truly ready. I must admit, I did it simply to quell my own anxieties.”

“A test?”

“I wanted to see if the Adepti of Jueyun Karst and the Qixing could work together to protect the land, if the time ever called for it, or if the adepti would simply decide their contract with Liyue - their promise to protect it - would end with my death.”

“Osial?”

“Unexpected.” Zhongli admitted, and he looked towards Guyun with amusement. “Still, I had forced Childe’s hand and I expected something grandiose from him - that he was able to lift the seals that kept Osial imprisoned is impressive.”

“Your dinner companion did all of this?” Xiao asked, warily. “And you asked him too?”

“A bit more nuanced than that, but yes.”

“I see.”

Silence fell over them again as Xiao mulled over everything. “Speaking of your dinner companion. . .” he began, remembering the traces of miasma that had clung to the man like wisps of smoke. Zhongli’s expression turned downcast at the mention of his friend and Xiao faltered. 

“He will be gone tomorrow.”

“Pardon?”

“I am pleased he indulged me in one last meal.” Zhongli smiled grimly. “Even after I used him as a pawn, he still dined with me. I have no doubt the betrayal stings him, but tomorrow he’ll leave for Snezhnaya and I do not know if he’ll return.”

Xiao let the conversation drop. There was no point if the threat would be gone tomorrow. He would simply keep an eye on his potential return and wait till then. He wondered if Zhongli could not sense the darkness that surrounded the man, or if he simply chose to ignore it. Neither would surprise him. He was cursed - blessed, some would say - with the ability to sense demonic energy and the stench of the Abyss. 

It was the same for the other Yakshas, was the reason Rex Lapis had tasked them with fighting the demons that formed from the anger and hatred of the fallen gods, but now only he remained. If Rex Lapis - Zhongli, now - could not sense the darkness, Xiao would watch it for him.

The pain heightened and this time, he couldn’t keep silent. 

“You are in pain.” Zhongli said matter-of-factly, for this was nothing new to them. Eventually the pain would overtake him to the point where he could no longer see and all he could do was persevere and wait for it to end.

“It is manageable.”

“Do you still have pain medicine?”

“No.”

“Do you wish for me to get you more?”

“Yes.” Xiao lied, because even after all these years, he still couldn’t find it in him to tell Rex Lapis the truth: that the pain medication he so laboriously made for him never seemed to work. The pain in the Archon’s eyes, as he watched the younger Adeptus suffer as a result of his own victories, hurt worse than the karmic debt that burrowed itself into his flesh and demanded retribution. “I would like that.”

Zhongli hummed. “I will prepare it in the morning. For now, when was the last time you slept?”

I don’t need to sleep.”

“Perhaps not as much as a mortal does.” the ex-Archon mused. “But it is still something one can indulge in.”

“It can wait another night.” Xiao deflected. “I still have questions.”

Zhongli shook his head and exhaled lightly. He sat down on the grass and adjusted his coat, so he wouldn’t sit on the embroidered fabric and patted the spot beside him. “If it’s any consolation, I won’t go anywhere.” He locked eyes with Xiao and smiled when the yaksha laid down with an annoyed huff. “You can ask me in the morning.”

“I’m still angry at you.”

“I know.” Zhongli murmured, shifting a little so he could place his hand on Xiao’s head. Gloved fingers carded through strands of teal hair gently; rhythmically. “I know we still have much to talk about, but we have all the time in the world. Sleep, my baby yaksha, and know I’ll be here for as long as I am able.”

Sleep would not cause the pain to abate - if only it was that easy - but for the moment, it became manageable. For the moment, his anger dwindled and took a backseat to the contentment that bloomed in his chest. For the moment, the world was safe. 

If only because Rex Lapis was still here with him.

Tomorrow could wait. 

--

a/n: maybe one day ill write the full length chili fic i set up in here.

[halfbreedhawkins]

“When will my reflection show who I am inside?”— Mulan (Mulan)

X Hawkins Territory, 2005 X

Penny clung to her Dad’s wrist, wrapped up in one of his old blue jumper shy away from her cousin’s roughhousing. Helle was already buck naked, running from an equally naked Glaucus both thrusting pointed sticks at the other. Granny was in a thick fur robe, her wrinkled skin peeking as she stepped through the crowd of nearly 50 strong. Her hair had gone silver and shone under the rays of a dying sun.

Penny watched as her cousins were rounded up, hovering beside parents and siblings, skin bare and streaked with dirt and mud. The adults striped of their finery, only bodies readying for the shirt, skin unadorned by anything except ink and the occasional thin robe. Granny waked through to the center of the crowd who parted for her, Granda Asher behind her donned in thin shorts. The crowd hushed, even her cousins quieted as Granny stepped onto a stone waving away hands to steady her balance.

Granny regarded the crowd, and smiled, “Welcome Clan, tonight we welcome the blessings of the Moon and the Shift that has graced out bloodline for over a thousand years.”

There was a short cheer, and Penny tilted her head back to mimic her Dad’s howl. Virgil was standing beside her mother, his free arm wrapped around her Mum’s waist. Mum was holding her hand, fingers tightening around her wrist. Penny tugged a little, and Mum’s fingers loosened with an apologetic smile.

“Tonight, we welcome more of the of the next generation who will carry out Blessing’s into the future. Please step forward my children.” Penny dashed forward, grabbing Iris’ thin wrist while Itzil tagged beside them dressed in a loose poncho. The trio stood before their grandmother, grinning, and shaking with slight elation of getting to join the pack, run alongside their cousins and siblings, to feel the Shift and be blessed.

“Persephone Hawkins, Iris Hawkins, Itzil Hawkins,” all three stood up straight, straightening their loose clothes and neatening their hair, “tonight you may Shift, as is tradition for werewolf children. Do you know why?”

“Werewolves shift in the Spring of their Fourth Year,” Penny piped up, Iris bumping her shoulder while Itzil nodded, “that way wolves of the same generation can become pack together!”

“Exactly right,” Granny’s fingers twitched, probably to tweak her nose and Penny was happy that Granny didn’t it was childish and tonight she was going to be a wolf, “remember to stay close to our family, and if you do not Shift just know that you are still pack, still Hawkins.”

But it meant they weren’t Blessed, and as Penny watched the Moon Rise above them, she let the moonbeams warm her skin. There was an electric current running beneath her veins, just like when she practiced her magic with Da’s wand, shifting rocks and sticks into bigger or smaller rocks or sticks, or when she threw sparks at Glaucus and Helle when they decided to play chase.

To her right Iris doubled over, growling a low noise from between her lips. Penny reached out where Iris’ spine was cracking.

“Iris?”

“It…” her panting was low and before Penny could say anything Itzil was standing ramrod straight, their jaw clenching tight while sweat pooled around their hairline.

“Itzil?”

“Holy shit,” Itzil panted out, dropping to her knees, fur sprouting from her hands and along her brown legs, thick and curling, near black, “Oh!” There was a pop as bones began to break.

“Penny?” Granny was looked down at her, her body was covered in thick silvery fur, eyes growing further apart.

“Grandmother, I don’t—I’m not,” Penny shuddered, wrapping her arms around herself as growls began to grow in the clearing, filling the air with a sort of primal heat. The howls began to rise towards the Moon and Penny’s throat was clogged with only a girlish scream.

This was not how this was supposed to go.

Iris was whimpering, low in her throat now, her body still moving, bones cracking as thick dirty blonde fur sprouted. She watched as if submerged into a pensieve, looking within a dream as Iris emerged fully formed, snout twitching, small and thin, fur patching in places. Iris shuffled forward, nosing at Penny’s palms while the girl tucked her fingers into the thick ruff of fur around her neck. From her right Itzil was standing, shaking out black curling fur, their body heavy with muscles and Penny twitched, she looked closer to what Glaucus did with his heavy shoulders and hindquarter.

But Penny stood under the Full Moon and watched as Itzil and Iris were pulled along into the forest, and Penny stood beside her Grandmother who bumped her great head into her chest.

Penny’s eyes were misting over, tears growing in the corners and spilling over baby fat cheeks. Granny bumped her again, the thick head causing small  and she buried her face into the warm white fur of her grandmother, sobbing gently as the pack took off. Her father’s form hovered behind Granny, and when she pulled away he trotted forward and licked at her cheek, Mum’s sleek dark form coming to her right as if she were a shadow to Da and Penny.

She wished they would talk to her, but as the howls of the Clan grew they pulled away and Da looked up and to her left. Uncle Nestor was there, his broad face twisting with a sort of understood grief and he held his arms out for the little girl. Ma pushed Penny forward with her nose and Penny sighed.

“’lo Uncle Nessie.” her cheeks cracked with dried tears.

“Penny-fer-yer-thoughts,” Nestor scooped the little girl up, tucking her tear stained face against his neck, running a heavy hand down her back “things are going to be fine. I swear, you’re going to be fine.”

Behind him Eudora stood, leaning against her broom and to her left was Leander. Damon, a year older than her was napping wrapped up in one of Attie’s sweaters lightly snoring through the yips and growls that grew further and further away, deeper into the woods. Penny was settled down beside him, pouting even as she yanked the sweater to cover her little legs.

“It’s not so bad, not Shifting pup,” Eudora plopped down beside her while Uncle Nessie hopped onto his broom and floated around the clearing, his eyes on the territory edges, “I promise, you’re not any less Hawkins than the rest of ‘em.”

Penny nodded, miserable, straining her ears to hear the howls in the distance.

“Once Damon wakes up we’ll take off. You can fly with me,” Leander grinned as he began to pluck and trim his broom, oiling it down with careful strokes, “we can go very fast.”

Penny smiled and slumped against Eudora’s side, her cousin stroking over her hair and down her back, her bones not crack, skin furless and hands not baring a single claw.

This was not how tonight was supposed to go.

X Hawkin's Territory, Spring 2020 X

Penny sat on a tree branch, Grandmother Andromeda was above them on a rock in the Clearing. Delia the Younger was the only child in her generation so far, dark hair swept back from her thin freckled face, grinning up at her Great-Grandmother. Eudora was standing below her, back to the tree that Penny was posted up against, Leander was missing and Damon was far away at some Dragon Reserve with his boss Turner something or other. A few of her second cousins were scattered around the clearing, seated on brooms, heads together. The Bellcrys and the Gilligans, the Greenpools. But Penny stood alone as the lone Hawkins Halfbreed in the clearing.

The Moon rose and she watched Linus’ curly haired form leap into the air to snap at a stray butterfly. Iris began to chase down Eudora and Helle, the triad running off into the woods. Mum was standing beside Jay’s dark form, the pair looking like Mother and Child before they both walked off into the woods without a spare glance to the girl in the tree.

It’d been a long time since Ma decided to talk to Penny before a Full Moon or come to her at all. 

Penny climbed back down from the tree, watching as little Delia shifted from girl to cub. The girl wiggled out from beneath the blanket that she was using for modesty, claws ripping the pink wool to shreds and mournfully she noses the wreckage. Delia the Younger was a golden curly haired pup with bright green eyes and tiny canines who bolted straight for her father, a Halfbreed who knelt and cuddled his wolf-child close. Their blonde curls intermixing together until Delia the Younger ran straight for Delia the Elder who yipped taking the cub deeper into the forest.

Granny was standing on her rock, watching Delia with fond eyes, eyes that Penny once hoped would turn onto her.

“Are you asking for a Bite Persephone?” Beside Grandmother, Rita Gilligan’s eyes snapped to her, dark red fur popping along her limbs, but Grandmother was still serene and human. The control Grandmother had over her shift was legendary, and Penny always admired that, Attie stood off to Grandmother’s right her body vibrating as her bones grinded down. The two women had been following Grandmother Andromeda’s example longer than Penny cared to remember.

“Penny, do you want one of us to Bite you?” Attie took a step forward, her eyes shining with excitement. “Me, or maybe Rita?” The redhead nodded empathetically, and came to Attie’s side, the pair in matching spikey leather jackets they’d shuck off when they couldn’t stop their Turn any longer.

“No I…” Penny stopped, “I wanted to wish you a happy Shift, I’m taking to the sky tonight,” her Cosmos 7000 leaned up against her oak tree.

“Are you sure?” Attie reached out, her clawed fingers dragging over the meat of Penny’s cheek and Penny leaned into the touch, closing her eyes, “There isn’t any shame of asking for a Bite, asking to shift. It’s your birthright. You deserve to run with us.”

Penny let out a shuddering sigh and nodded. 

“N-no, it’s okay. I’m okay, maybe another time. When I’m more ready.” Attie nodded withdrawing her hand, still shaking and tossed her leather jacket and loose shorts onto the ground, Rita joining her and both turned, dropping onto all fours. They were sleek muscled wolves, dirty blonde and red, fully formed and beautiful. 

Grandmother still waited, standing atop the rock.

“Persephone.”

Penny stood straight up, looking to her Grandmother, “Yes?”

“You are still a blessing for this Clan, no matter your choices in life and your ability to Shift.”

Penny nodded and stepped back, her Grandmother waited for her to say something – anything really. But when Penny stood silent the woman nodded and leaped, her body shifting midair and a sleek wolf stood in her place, her once blonde fur gone silver. Her eyes were lightly clouded over, signs of blindness creeping up, her body littered with scars and spell marks. Penny watched her trot into the forest and Penny walked to her broom, the other halfbreed second cousins already far ahead chasing after the pack.

Penny stood alone in the clearing, and let her body shudder under the Moon, letting Her power fill up her veins. With no one looking the girl drew her magic around her body, tugging on the wellspring of magic in her belly and throat, then focused and flexed her palm, claws sprouting where nails once were.

“One day,” Penny whispered to herself, “you’ll join them, on your own terms.” Mounting her broom Penny took to the sky and let the Moon rays shine over her body, and followed after the Clan.

[frodos-bizarre-adventure]

@gingerreggg just some fluff

Heads Up- Part 12 (Joseph x Bust!Caesar)

▪▪▪▪▪▪▪▪

"Are you ready to go out?" Suzi asked Caesar, as he sat atop the kitchen table.

"Really?" he replied skeptically. "I thought you didn't want anyone to see me?"

"And that's why we've got this!" Joseph exclaimed joyfully as he pranced into the room with a small carrying crate. It was quite lightweight, and across the top of one side a narrow, horizontal slit had been cut into the hard cardboard material, to function as a viewing window.

Caesar felt uneasy, somewhat queasy to the stomach if he'd had one. This was the first time he'd see the world, beyond the confines of Joseph's apartment. Well, of course, aside from that one escapade, but he didn't really get far.

"You really mean it?" he said nervously.

"Look, if you're gonna go bouncing away at night to see the world then I thought I'd let you have in on the fun with the two of us! We picked a nice place, I bet you'll love it." Joseph smiled, as he lifted Caesar off the table and gently into the box, fitting him perfectly with just a little bit of room to spare. "Just remember to be very quiet."

"Joseph," Caesar complained, as he was laid snugly into the box. "You cut the view-hole too high."

"Aw shit," Joseph groaned. "I should have measured."

Fortunately it wasn't a problem a few layers of newspaper couldn't solve, and with some cushioning beneath his neck the peeping hole was perfectly level with Caesar's eyes.

"That should do the trick," Joseph huffed, as he gently covered Caesar with the lid.

"And now...it's time," grinned the sculptor, as he carried his created companion, tucked safely into the box, out into the warm light of late afternoon.

--------

Joseph mostly got around town, and to and from the university, in his trusty old bicycle he'd gotten as a birthday present from his uncle Speedwagon. It had seen better days, but still served him well, especially after he installed a small sidecar so he could carry his art along with him on the way.

"This is fun!" Suzi cheered, as Joseph pedaled along down toward the beach-view that he and Suzi had agreed on earlier.

"Just don't let go of me!" Caesar cried, from inside the box. He laid upon her lap as she sat in the sidecar, and each time she raised her hands in excitement the hapless bust feared he might fall off.

But at the same time, as he peeked out of the narrow slit, Caesar felt a strange elation.

He was seeing the world beyond.

Buildings, cars, streets and people rushed by, illuminated in the orange light of sunset, as Joseph came pedaling along, so quickly that Caesar couldn't keep up with seeing them all. There was just such a big, big place to see, and with a little help, Caesar was going much, much further than he could possibly hop by himself.

Caesar smiled, a hidden smile from within his box that no one could see.

Perhaps it was far nicer to see the world with friends.

Perhaps he didn't have to be alone.

And yet, at the same time, Caesar felt a hint of sorrow as he admired the sun-kissed landscape gleaming in its tangerine illumination. There was a vast world out there, full of people, full of experiences, of stories in the making waiting to be told.

And he knew he could never be a part of it.

--------

"We're here!" Joseph said excitedly, as he halted near the parkway by the beach.

"And look!" Suzi exclaimed. "We're just in time for the sunset!"

"I can't see!" Caesar complained. "Get me out of this box!"

Dismounting from the sidecar, Suzi stood up and with Joseph's help, removed Caesar from the box, after glancing around to make sure nobody was around to witness them unloading their unusual cargo.

Caesar couldn't believe his eyes. They were at a quiet little corner of the beach, with the floor a smooth, wooden viewing deck. Beyond him was a view of the ocean, stretching all the way into the horizon, and hovering just above it was a brilliant orange orb whose rays Caesar felt onto his clay skin for the first time in his newfound life.

"So, what do you think?" Joseph asked as he gently laid Caesar down onto the deck, and sat cross-legged next to him.

"It's...it's beautiful," gasped Caesar in pure amazement, as he made a few hops forward.

"Whoa, easy there, Cae," Joseph cautioned. "Try not to fall in the water, I doubt you can swim," he said with a snarky laugh.

Caesar nodded, but was too absorbed in the splendor of it all to heed Joseph's dry wit. He could smell the refreshing salty breeze, feel the warmth of the descending sun, hear the waves and the wind and the calls of the birds. Just like the one time he'd left the house, except this time, Joseph wasn't trying to stop him.

And never before, in his short existence as a bodiless sculpt of clay, had Caesar felt so free.

Joseph shifted himself forward so that he was next to Caesar again. "I thought you'd enjoy this," he said, gently cradling the bust onto his lap.

The sun's rays were fading in warmth, but Joseph's arms felt warmer.

Soon the brilliant orb began to sink into the horizon, fading away into the distant mists as the deep pinks and purples of the sky began to crowd out the oranges and yellows of the sun's final rays. Caesar was awed. It was something that happened every single day, sure, but it was no less of a glorious spectacle to behold.

It wasn't long until the stars began to appear.

A few bright points, here and there, gradually emerging from the darkening sky. There were scarcely any clouds, to Joseph's delight, and soon, the night had come: enveloping them in a calm, peaceful darkness lit by the thousands of glittering pinpricks up above.

"Caesar," Joseph said softly. "Look."

He laid down onto his back on the wooden floor, after he took the newspapers from Caesar's box and gently laid the sculpture's head onto them so that Caesar could also recline comfortably. Side by side, artist and artwork lay down gazing skyward, into the infinite vastness of the night sky above.

"You know, Cae, my grandpa Jonathan used to tell me," Joseph began. "He said that as the night comes it paints over the sky, swiftly and in a rush, leaving a few spots uncolored in its hurry. I'd always thought it was a silly story," he laughed.

Caesar chuckled. "Your grandfather?"

"Yeah..." Joseph sighed, sadly. "I miss him."

"Now it's just Granny Erina and me, and really, just me, after I came to live in my flat. Mom was always away, and I'd never met my dad. But Grandpa Jonathan...he was the best part of my childhood."

He gestured to the sky.

"I like to think he's up there where he belongs, up among the stars. We are Joestars after all," he said with a mix of a laugh and a sigh, gently running his finger over the birthmark on his neck.

One he remembered his grandpa also had, which Joseph imagined was a mark, a promise, perhaps, of where he'd since returned.

There was a moment of silence as Caesar momentarily pondered.

"Do you think I belong among the stars too?" Caesar asked, after a pause.

"Huh?" Joseph turned to look at him. "Why would you think that?"

Caesar gave a melancholy pause.

"Because...because if I really am Anthonio Zeppeli, as Suzi said...shouldn't I be up there? And yet, I am here."

That one word, that had struck Caesar earlier, hit him again.

Purpose.

"I mean, if you really think about how big the universe is, and how small we are to it, it's downright humbling, and a little bit frightening," Joseph mused.

"But we're tiny specks that simply exist, and maybe, we make our own existence worthwhile," he added, stroking Caesar's shoulder stub.

"Then I guess I don't really need a purpose, then," Caesar mumbled, watching the unimaginable vastness twinkle far beyond.

"I mean, do you?" Joseph answered. "You exist for the sake of existing, and that should be enough."

Caesar smiled.

Joseph was right. Why did he have to bother figuring out why he was alive, or who he was, or why he was where he is today?

He was alive today, even though he shouldn't be.

His existence was an unexpected blessing.

He existed for his own sake. And, looking into his sculptor's brilliant blue eyes, mesmerized at the heavens, he thought, perhaps for Joseph's sake too.

"I'm glad you made me, Joseph. Whether or not I really am Anthonio or not. I'm just glad to be here today."

"However way you created me."

Joseph chuckled. "You know what they say, Caesar. Yesterday was history, tomorrow is a mystery, but today is a gift."

"That's why they call it present."

Caesar groaned.

"Oh come on, Jojo," he grumbled. "You stole it from that turtle from the panda cartoon."

Joseph burst out a hearty laugh. "So you have been watching the movies Suzi brought, huh?"

"I was bored," Caesar said, embarassed.

Joseph was just glad for the time they were enjoying together, by the beach, under the night sky, with only the glimmer of lamp posts and the now-rising moon lighting the way. It felt peaceful, and very calming, for both weary artist and lonely creation.

He wished they could do this forever.

Just the three of them.

Oh yes, Joseph remembered, three.

"Say, where is Suzi, anyway?" wondered Joseph after a few moments. "We'd gotten too busy with our little talk there... Suzi?"

A faint snore came as the only response.

"Oh great," Caesar moaned, rocking back up into an upright position with a little help from Joseph. "She slept through the whole thing, and this whole trip was her idea."

"You can't blame her," Joseph explained. "She's pretty tired."

He couldn't help a small giggle as he saw Suzi splayed out awkwardly onto the sidecar seat, dozing away like she was on her sofa.

"I think it's time we went home." Joseph said.

Rousing Suzi to make sure she was safe throughout the ride back to Joseph's apartment, the three friends made their way back, Caesar once more tucked inside his box.

As Joseph pedaled home Caesar peeked out at the view of the city through the hole in the box. The city at night looked so different.

Thousands of brilliant lights shone through the darkness, outlining buildings, illuminating streets, marking the passage of cars.

The city's lights were like the stars on the earth.

And in a way, they were among them, after all.

A sudden halt to the gentle motion of the box indicated to Caesar that they'd reached home. Soon he felt himself being lifted back into the house, as Joseph had done the night he snuck out. Yet this time, it didn't feel like a punishment, as it was when Joseph had forced him back inside. It felt like a reward, at the end of a long, grand adventure.

And at the night, Caesar knew he could look forward to end his day with another night in bed lovingly cradled in his beloved maker's arms.

Suzi sleepily staggered her way into the house and flopped onto the couch with a yawn. "Sorry about that, I hope I didn't miss too much," she said to Joseph, a little regretfully.

"Don't worry, Caesar loved it," Joseph reassured her. "We had a little talk."

"Hmmm?" she hummed drowsily.

"Oh, just stuff, about the stars and the world and the niceness of being alive, he had a lot to say." Joseph explained. "Also he's been watching your movies, he gets references," he laughed.

Joseph felt a strange warmth to Caesar that he couldn't quite explain. His feelings had been all over the place since the handsome little piece of clay came into his life. He'd gotten to know him, and he'd come to like him.

He'd come to love him.

And Caesar, sitting close by on the floor, gazing up at his relatively-towering form, felt the same.

He loved him for granting him life. He loved him for the care and affection, and all the numerous things he'd done for him, even if he couldn't return the favor.

And he loved him for just... being Joseph.

Their gazes met, and two shy smiles crept across their faces.

Perhaps Caesar belonged with a certain star after all.

---------

(Previous Chapter)

(Next Chapter)

[vannahfanfics]

Shattered, Not Broken

Category: Hurt and Comfort, Angst, Family Fluff

Fandom: FullMetal Alchemist

Characters: Edward Elric, Alphonse Elric 

The wind rolled over the hill, ruffling the grass to fill the air with a quiet thunder. The green blades flapped against Edward’s boots as he slowly trekked the winding dirt path meandering through the small cemetery on the outskirts of Resembool. The worn gravestones glinted white in the sunlight, bleached like bones. The image made a short wave of nausea roll up his esophagus that made acid burn at the base of his throat. He coughed uncomfortably and swallowed it down. Stop being a wimp, Ed. 

The sun beat down on his back, making his shoulders and long blond hair uncomfortably warm. He swept his braid from his neck to release some of the trapped heat, but a thin sheen of sweat already shone on his skin, and the perspiration had already dampened the neckline of his cotton shirt. Still, Edward ignored the blazing heat and continued his solemn march to the top of the hill, where a pair of headstones sat side-by-side, gleaming in the sun. 

Edward released a long sigh as he buried his hands into the pockets of his trousers. His eyes were lidded as they gazed down at the pair of graves to read the names and dates inscribed on the worn gray stone. His eyes drifted first to the one on the right that read Trisha Elric, then to the newer, cleaner one on the left that simply read Hohenheim. It was on the latter marker that Edward’s eyes remained fixed on, inspecting all the small fissures and specks of dirt that had accumulated in the long months since it had been placed. 

He shifted his foot from one foot to the other, deliberating what exactly to say. He hadn’t known what to think at first when Granny told him that she’d found Hohenheim slouched over his mother’s grave, all the breath and warmth long since vacated his body. He’d just sat there, slack-jawed, and uttered something the lines of, “Oh. So he’s gone, then.” However, when the watchful night closed in and he was finally left to process the fact that his father really was dead and gone, Edward felt a way he’d never expected— shattered. 

“It’s not fair,” he growled under his breath and curled up his fists tight. The gravestone stared back at him, unblinking, unforgiving. “You bastard! You shouldn’t just get to run off and die like that!” he accused with a jabbing finger at the bleached rock. Tears pooled in his eyes and streamed down his cheeks. Were they of sadness? Frustration? Relief? Probably all three. Edward’s chest heaved as his pointing finger wobbled as slight tremors wracked his body. 

“You shouldn’t… You shouldn’t get to do that,” Edward sniffed, voice cracking and softening as the sadness washed over him in great waves. His arm slowly fell to his side, mirroring his head slumping down so that his chin struck his chest. “We were… we were supposed to be together again.” 

Edward had sworn to himself once that he’d never acknowledge Hohenheim as his father and allow him into his life again. Yet, here he was, directly contradicting himself… Because that’s how he felt. Even after years of cursing the man’s name, resenting him for his abandonment, as soon as Edward had clapped eyes on him again, the first thing that had come surging up was not anger. No, that came second. 

What came first was joy— that foolish joy, the kind that makes one think that everything will be all right and nothing bad would ever happen again. Edward had thought that he’d long since grown out of that— after all, his life hadn’t been sunshine and rainbows for such a long time— but just one sight of Hohenheim, and he’d been reduced to that little boy clinging to his mother’s skirts and idyllic childhood. It had been maddening, frustrating, and oh, so nice. Perhaps that moment had never left him, had never truly been washed down by the surging hate he’d drudged up by force. Maybe deep down, Edward had fooled himself into really thinking that Hohenheim would come back. 

“I hate you,” Edward sniffed and rubbed at his eyes. Another lie he told himself day after day. He couldn’t hate Hohenheim, no matter how much he wanted to, after learning all the sacrifices and tribulations the immortal man had endured. As much as Edward wished to convince himself that Hohenheim was a selfish bastard, the fact of the matter was that Hohenheim was a selfless bastard. 

“I hate you for leaving again, you crappy old man,” he sighed and kneeled down in front of the gravestone. He pulled a small flask out of his pocket and uncapped it, then dumped it over the grass. The sharp scent of whiskey wafted into the air, burning Edward’s nostrils, as the brown liquid splashed over the green blades and seeped deep down into the earth to coat the wooden coffin lying below. He returned the empty silver flask to his pocket and then sucked in a breath. “Too many people are celebrating Father’s Day like this, and you just had to go and make me one of ‘em.” 

Edward thought of Alicia. She was probably sobbing over Maes’ grave right now, still too young to understand why her daddy was never coming back. He thought of Winry, who he’d found passed out on her bedroom floor that morning curled around a dusty medical textbook with her father’s name written inside. He thought about all the children across Amestris whose fathers had been taken in needless wars and merciless slaughters. He thought about the Ishvalans; even if they didn’t celebrate Father’s Day— he wouldn’t know. 

Edward thought about Alphonse, who was forcing a smile on his face as he helped Granny make pancakes and had so cheerfully said, “Granny, what should we make in honor of Father tonight?” 

“You should be here, you bastard.” Edward couldn’t muster up and venom to spew anymore. All that was left was the hollow coldness of sorrow, the chill of his voice freezing the breeze that rolled by again. “But happy Father’s Day, all the same.” He reached out to gently splay his hand across the headstone. It felt warm. Edward knew that it was just the stone soaking up the sun’s rays, but he still imagined a heartbeat pulsing within the rock, still imagined that his father was there listening to him tirade with that affectionate, apologetic smirk on his lips. 

Edward hated how much that smirk meant to him. That bastard. 

“Ed!” 

He looked over his shoulder to see Alphonse trotting through the gate, cheeks pink from breathlessness. His little brother hurried up the path to join him at the gravestones. “What… What are you doing?” he panted as he looked in confusion at Edward, kneeled in front of the headstone with his hand tenderly caressing Hohenheim’s name. 

Edward could lie, he supposed, to make himself look good. He didn’t really see the point, though. Alphonse knew him better than anyone; he’d look right through him and then scold him for setting a bad example for his little brother. The image alone of Alphonse stamping his foot and waggling his finger made Edward smile wryly. 

“I’m wishing this bastard a happy Father’s Day,” he shrugged. Alphonse’s eyes nearly bugged out of his head in shock, and he stared at Edward as he slowly rose and shoved his hands back in his pocket. His palm was still warm, heating up the cloth. “Telling him he shouldn’t have gone and died, the damn deadbeat. Now Granny has to drink whiskey all by herself!”

Alphonse stared at him for a moment, and then his face softened into a sweet smile. Alphonse could always pull off that look so well; even when Edward tried, he still looked a little grumpy. His little brother glanced at the gravestone with an appreciative hum; then, he closed his eyes and clasped his hands together in prayer. 

“Happy Father’s Day, Dad! I hope Mom treats you well today.” 

“Don’t say that,” Edward griped and lightly shoved his brother in the shoulder, making him yelp and pout at him. “He doesn’t deserve it. What he ought to be doing is kneeling at her feet, begging for forgiveness for all the missed Mother’s Days!” 

“That’s a bit harsh, don’t you think?” 

“Hell no!” Edward sniffed and turned up his nose. “He’s got a million years to make up for all the crap he put her through!” 

“Well, it’s a good thing they have all the time in the world now,” Alphonse giggled. The comment made Edward stiffen, and then he melted, giving his brother a sappy smile. 

“Yeah,” he admitted. “They do, huh? That still won’t save him from when I get there and sock the hell out of him.” 

“Big Brother! You’ve already socked him while he was still alive!” 

“Yeah, well, I got a few more left in me, okay?!” 

Alphonse heaved a sigh, watching wearily as Edward whirled on his heel and began trudging out of the cemetery. He then trotted to catch up, a grin forming on his lips. 

“Hey, you know what Granny said? She’s making beef stew tonight!” 

“Beef stew, eh? No wonder you’re in such a good mood,” Edward smiled. Alphonse giggled happily and bumped shoulders with him. Edward marveled at the feeling; it wasn’t a metal shoulder, but one of flesh and bone. Even though he’d spent years fighting to get his brother’s body back, sometimes he found himself still not used to it. 

Edward glanced over his shoulder at the cemetery on the hill, where his mother and father rested in eternal slumber. I guess some things you never really will get used to, huh, Hohenheim? he wondered with a small smile. Just like… I’ll never really be used to it— the two of you being gone. 

“Ed! Al! Do you want to go with me to the market?” Winry’s voice came floating down the road as she stood, waving them down and cupping her hand to her mouth as she called. Alphonse cried out in affirmation and sprinted to meet her while Edward stopped walking, admiring the two people who meant the most in the world to him. 

The were voids in his heart that nothing could ever fill, but… Edward had to admit that his heart was pretty full, too— and it wouldn’t be this way if things hadn’t turned out the way that they did. Even if it was pretty damn painful in the process. He tipped his head back to the sky, where the clouds drifted along like white ships in an azure sea. 

I guess I should say thanks too, you shitty old man. 

“Ed! Are you coming?” 

He looked back down, where Winry and Alphonse were both smiling expectantly. 

“Yeah. I’m coming,” he said and got started down the road again. Piece by piece, he’ll put himself back together— even if there were a few holes here and there. Shattered, not broken, because he still had plenty of people here with him.

Enjoy this oneshot? Feel free to peruse my Table of Contents!

[mountainleafuniversity]

Linneaus: Undertow Pt 1

Artwork by: @warrior-kitty

Special thanks to: @gemellath

This story is rated PG-13 for content. You have been warned.

It was a beautiful day for the citizens of Charluftton as the Wild Waves Festival was in full swing. The plaza was full of vendors selling t-shirts and frozen ice, the bar was full of all kinds of live music, including bands like Boil, The Lost Tapes and Art House, and even the beach was full of fun events such as volley ball, sailing, and even a beach 5k obstacle course. Boaters were out fishing and tubing and just all around having a good time. However, for the shapeshifting vixen, she was lying home in bed wearing her work cap, a buttoned jacket and khaki work pants. On her nametag was the name “Kit Rouge”. She was a shy fox who was diagnosed with a disorder that caused her to have trouble controlling her shapeshifting powers, and today, due to the events that occurred at work, was no exception.

“All I did was get grossed out…” she muttered. “Yet of course I turned into a fox bug like I always do when I’m disgusted. And of course, everyone thinks I’m too old for this to happen. I can’t control it…”

Kit had a busy day at work with lots of fishermen and families out buying things from pool toys to bait and couldn’t even stop the lines from the shoppers just itching to get their stuff and hit the water. She swore if she saw another sailor she would transform into her angry form and chuck them off their boat.

Her cellphone rang, and Kit answered.

“Hey Vixie!” Coin started, wearing sunglasses. “Work was rough today wasn’t it?!”

“Oh! Hello Coin! It was rough! Like the time that giraffe all jacked up on cocaine went up to you and-“

“Didn’t you remember our plans for today?!” he interrupted.

“What plans?” the khaki-clad kitsune asked.

“To go tubing with us!” Rio said.

“But I thought we were going to go to the beach!” Kit cried. “I want to lie down, get a sun tan and eat all the cannolis I can think off!”

“The beach is tomorrow and the next day!” Coin replied.

“Just get changed, pack some sandwiches and don’t forget the tube! See you in a half an hour.”

With that they hung up.

Kit thought about it for a second and decided to just go embark with her friends on the boat.

The young vixen put on a yellow one-piece swimsuit and covered it with a Zelda t-shirt and her khaki shorts from her work uniform. She then put on her special waterproof contacts, so she doesn’t turn her friends into her clones again. Finally, she made her friends sandwiches to eat on the boat while they hung out. Kit opened the garage to find Coin’s boat tube and sighed, knowing that none of their days out ever go well.

When she arrived, she saw her jackelope friend in his salmon trunks, purple t-shirt and sunglasses, with Rio harvest mouse perched on top of his antlers. She was in a little sailor’s outfit with a cap.

“First mate Rio! Ready to embark!” she said with glee.

“Hey Kitty!” Coin blurted. “Just put the tube in the back, were going to go fishing for a little while.”

“I thought you had a fear of fish.” Kit replied.

“My dad wants us to get fish for the Braun’s fish recipe!”

“You hate the taste of fish as well!”

“I’m getting paid if I do this.”

“Fair.”

And with that, they entered the boat.

Kit untied the ropes from the hooks, while Rio and Coin brought the buoys into the boat.

“Hey um Kit…” Rio said. “I think you might want to put your sunhat in the cabinet, so you don’t lose it.

“Oh, I’m fine.” Kit said without concern. “What’s the worst that could happen?”

As Coin and First Mate Rio pushed it to thirty miles an hour, Kit began to scream as her body grew more multicolored fur, whiskers grew, and her body became feline. The scared cat held onto her hat as hard as she could while the boat tore through the river.

“I retract my previous statement!” screamed Kit. “This is way too fast! My hat’s gonna fly away if you’re not careful!”

“Too fast?” replied Coin, seemingly unaffected by the rip-roaring speeds they were currently travelling at.

“No way! Calm down, will you? If you didn’t want your hat to get blown off, you should’ve at least stored it in the compartment.”

Begrudgingly, he and Rio slowed to boat down so that Kit could hand the hat over to Rio.

“Honestly,” she said, “We should’ve insisted on it in the first place.”

As they continued to sail, the trio began to develop an appreciation for the architecture of the waterside houses. Rio would wonder aloud who lives there, or there, or there? Enough time had passed for Kit to have calmed down; one tug of her tail later, and she was back in her fox form.

“Right then,” she said, retrieving her hat at last, “What are we up to first?”

“Sandbar, of course!” replied Rio as the boat sailed towards the spot where the ocean embraced the shore.

The little stretch of sand was surprisingly full of people sunbathing, dipping their toes in the water; anything to make the most of the fresh heat.

“Oh, nice! We can all have a game of keepie-uppie!”

Kit casted her line out towards the water and waited. Soon enough she had something on her line, reeling it in as hard as she could to discover she had caught a gar.

“Nice!” she said, pleased with herself.

“Hey, look guys I caught this cool long-billed thing!”

The crowd looked over, but only saw the fish worth jack squat and laughed.

Kit became slimier and turned grey, with white hair growing until she was now her sad form, the fox slug Granny.

“Dang nabbit!” she muttered to herself before casting the line once again…only to this time catch a sea bass…

“Did you bring the football?” Rio asked.

“Sure did!” Coin said, holding the old pigskin.

“I said the football!” Rio growled.

“This is a football!” Coin responded, perplexed.

Soon an argument erupted between the two of them, until they decided to just toss the ball around. The jackelope through a spiral throw towards Rio, who then responded by nailing her personal perch in the chest. Coin got up, picked the football off of the bar and tossed it again. After a while, he was getting nailed in the face, chest, and even in the groin by the sailor mouse’s throws. He called for a time out to see Granny still trying to catch fish.

“Hey bud.” She said. “Could you give my tail a pull?”

Coin turned her back into Kit.

“Thanks”

“So what’s going on here?” Coin asked.

“I”ve been catching nothing but sea bass and gar…”

Coin looked at her in disbelief.

“Kit there aren’t any sea bass in here…you mean sea trout.”

Kit blushed a little.

“It’s alright, you caught like five of them already!”

So, they waited and caught a decent amount of fish to put in the cooler.

After sunbathing for a bit, the Trio decided it was time to go tubing. They packed up their chairs, their belongings and the fish, which were placed in a water tank on the back of the boat.

“Alright guys!” Rio shouted with excitement. “Time for tubing!”

Coin took off his shirt and glasses, leaving him with only his trunks, while Kit dressed down to her swimsuit. Both of them then put on life jackets and hopped onto the tube.

“Um…” Kit said, somewhat nervous. “I’m not sure I want to do this…”

“Oh we’ll be fine. I’ve gone tubing dozens of times.”

“Get ready you guys!” First Mate Rio shouted as she pushed on the gas. She pulled it forward and the two cryptid creatures were yanked screaming. They narrowly missed other boats and shores, but soon the wild mouse got carried away. At a wedding reception between two mice on a dock, the two burst through and destroyed the dock the mice were on, leaving Coin with a face full of tiny wedding cake, and Kit with the groom in her mouth. Next, the two of them flew over another boat’s wake, which was sunk as soon as the tube landed on it. Finally, they neared an exclusive gated community residence, and ended up going through the yards of the tenants. Statues, trees, and rocks pelted them with pure bruises and scratches. At one point, they broke in through a beaver business man’s house and destroyed his kitchen, his teenage daughter’s bedroom, and his priceless wine cellar.

After breaking out of the last wall, a ramp was seen straight ahead for the duo, and with the ramp, Kit flew off of the tube and belly flopped into the water. Coin, luckily, stayed on, but ended up getting dragged through marsh grasses and oyster beds. He was all chopped up, so when Rio stopped, Coin fell into a million pieces. He healed himself, as always when he got this injured, and pulled into the boat.

“Hang on, where’s Kit?” the crazy driver asked.

From a groan they heard, the two saw her bobbing in the water. Coin spun it back around to collect Kit, who wasn’t very amused about the whole situation once she climbed back on board.

She was trying her best not to snap at Rio, as the jackelope got her a towel to wipe off the water.

Rio than then tried to fire up the engine but called Coin over. After a brief and worried discussion, the rabbit sheepishly confronted his fox friend.

“Umm…Kit….”

“What is it?” she snapped with her eyes already glowing.

“The boat…it’s out of gas…”

Suddenly Kit screamed as she transformed into DemKit, with his voice deepening into a roar. He picked up the cowering and flailing jackelope and chucked him off the boat. Then moved on towards Rio and held her up, shaking her around.

“WHAT ARE WE GONNA DO NOW FIRST MATE RIO?!?!” he roared.

“Calm Down!” Rio said. “Coin can just call the boat tow.”

DemKit dropped Rio and blushed a little embarrassed.

“Sorry Coin!” he yelled out.

“Try to grab the tube.”

Coin swam towards the tube, failing to notice the fin behind him. He climbed onto it, but as he was being pulled in by the fox monster, a shark leapt from behind him and bit down on his swim trunks, ripping them and pulling them into the water. His two friends screamed with DemKit frantically pulling on the rope harder, but it was fruitless as he pulled it in to find the shark had cut it in half. Coin, meanwhile, had a censor bar over his special area and watched as whale watchers and fishermen boated by laughing. The shark returned and pulled the censor off of him, causing DemKit and Rio to blush and look away.

“How can this get any worse?” the mouse said to herself.

“There they are!” an angry woman said, with a crowd of people on a police boat. The officer looked to see a sailor mouse next to a steering wheel, some fox monster, and a naked jackelope behind them.

“Oh crap.” DemKit said to himself, embarrassed.

Later on, Kit, now back as her normal self, and Coin were eating the fish they’d caught in the estuary with their families at Coin’s house.

“I’m glad they found out I was just transformed.” She said. “And they found the shark with Coin’s compressions lodged in its throat at the hospital. He said he needed clothes to deliver to someone.”

“Who?” Gunda asked

“We don’t know yet, but because he pulled my censored bar away he now has to register as a sex offender.”

“As for Rio?” Kit’s father asked.

“Well because she was recklessly driving to the point of bodily harm and property damage, and we didn’t do anything wrong, she has to spend the Festival in jail.” Kit replied.

“It’s a good thing you guys called to get the trout out.” Jonas said. “Proud of you son!”

“Thanks dad! How was the nautical golf tournament?”

“Well, we placed second.” He declared to Margaret. “We have to go to the plaza tomorrow. You are performing tomorrow night correct?”

“Yea, I’m meeting Harry and Roxie at work tomorrow, and D’Arcy is setting up her clothing tent at the beach market.”

“Apparently someone sent a threat to her earlier this afternoon.” Kit’s brother told them. “They’re investigating who sent it.”

“Well, it’s probably nothing we should worry about, but we should tell D’Arcy once we get to the beach.”

Meanwhile the salmon trunks sank into a cave where a sea serpent sat waiting and grabbed it.

“Nice…” she said. “A sample of clothing from one of that jersey devil’s friends.” She smiled with glee. “He could be useful to me… in finally bringing her down…” she laughed as her factory workers continued to work…

[bigowlenergy]

doors

Next chapter of How to Raise the Dead

X

Jack gets back late from the grocery store. 8 pm. He usually goes at 7 am on Saturday, but. Well.

Danny is asleep in the living room like Jack left him, their latest quilt bunched up around his small form. No backing. Hasn’t even been pressed yet. Fresh and new and covered in tiny strings.

It’s been a while since they worked on a project together.

Granny squares of cartoon ghosts with happy faces ring a large, detailed paper piecing of the Fenton Portal. It’s done all up in floral pastels. True soft quilt colors. Jack’s grown to prefer bright neons and the signature Fenton green, but an old fashioned quilt is good, too. It near matches the much smaller one framed on the wall. Danny’s first quilt, though of course Jack did most of it at the time. The picture beside it is Danny holding up the finished project, smiling big, missing some milk teeth. About third grade, if Jack remembers right. Or was that the year he skipped ahead? Well, whatever it was, it was Danny’s First Quilt Year.

And this one, now, with the door to the land of the dead lovingly rendered as the centerpiece, will not be the last.

-

3 AM. The Fenton Phones buzz with a silent alarm. Maddie sleeps through it, Jack wakes up. Lays there for a while. Listens to the shower run, the lack of footsteps in the hall upstairs. Danny’d disappeared around 11 pm. Vanished from his room in the usual way.

Jack eventually falls back to sleep, relieved his boy is home. For the night, at least.

He wakes at 5, as usual, then comes down to find Danny sitting on the davenport, wrapped in one of the new fabric bolts like a blanket and very much asleep. His hair is the special kind of mess that tossing and turning with wet hair makes. The bags beneath his eyes are so deep they look painted on. True bruises. Jack sets a slippered foot on the wood floor under the stairs and Danny jolts awake. Instant reaction. Too tired to know what to do with it. Squints at Jack in the early morning dark and interrupts himself with a huge yawn. Damn does he have some chompers.

“How ‘bout some coffee, son?” Jack offers.

Danny slurs out a positive, then snuggles back down. Jack gets a single cup brewing and watches the sun rise with his son.

They’re working on tracing pattern pieces when the girls come down the stairs. Both dressed for the day, Maddie about two hours early. Oh, Jazz’s tour is today. That’s right. Jack’s been distracted.

“Are you coming, Dad? Danny?” Jazz’s tone shifts slightly as she leans around to catch Danny laying on the carpet, half asleep and up to his elbows in wrinkled pattern paper.

“Danny, are you alright, honey?” Maddie asks, looking less drastically tired, but equally glassy eyed and unhappy with the hour. Like mother like son.

“Oh, you know how quilting goes, Mads!” Jack intervenes. “We were up late last night, early morning, too. I’ll stay and keep him company. Unless you need me to be there, Jazz?”

Maddie blinks once, slowly, looking intently at Jack for a moment before yawning and heading to find her purse. Jazz looks away from her open appraisal of Danny. Jack doesn’t want to turn and look, make them suspicious or anything, so he’s left wondering what she’s looking for. If Danny’s giving her some kind of code, begging for her to stay, to take him with, not to leave him home alone with Jack. Whatever she sees must be positive. Or maybe unconscious. She doesn’t take her eyes off Jack when she says, all innocence and honesty,

“No, it’s alright, Dad. It’s just one tour. I’m staying to talk to the career councilor afterwards, anyway. No reason to make you all wait.”

“Alrighty then, Jazzy. Let me know how it goes. See you later, dear.” He kisses his tired wife goodbye. Passes a note into her pocket. Waves them both out the door for their own early morning.

Normally, he’d go to the supermarket at this time, but Danny’s dead on his - absolutely exhausted, and Jack would rather keep him home safe for a change. He deserves it.

The front door clicks shut, and it echoes. Jack lets out a heavy breath.

“Want some breakfast, Danno?” He asks, turning to find Danny blinking heavily, eyes scrunching like it hurts. But he’s sitting up, mostly, and clutching the cup of decaf Jack slipped some ectoplasm in like he’s forgotten about it.

Jack kneels down beside him and sets a hand on his shoulder, gently straightening him up.

“Come ‘ere,” He offers his arm, taking the cup in his other hand. Danny flops on to his shoulder immediately. Mumbles, “I’m not a baby,” but yawns again and doesn’t even try to stand on his own. Jack lifts him easily. Calling Danny 90 pounds would be generous. Jack might not be into weight training any more, but he’ll always be strong enough to support his kids. It’s been a while since he’s gotten to cart either of them around. It’s nice. He hadn’t realized he missed it.

He puts the cup on the kitchen table and sets Danny in his seat.

“Alright, what’ll it be, bud?”

“Pancakes,” Danny mumbles, blowing on the cold coffee. Looks a little more present now.

Jack readies the ingredients and gets Danny stirring. Pulls the old pan out from the pantry. Pauses. Maybe they shouldn’t use this anymore. It was a gift from Vlad, freshman year, half gag gift, half honest peace offering to end the Prank War. A novelty Halloween pan with two large, pancake sized sheet ghosts. It’s a bit dented and well loved from the years, but it’s a good pan. Jack’d loved the thing, and did what any good best friend would do and bought Vlad the hard stuff he liked, but couldn’t really afford, as thanks. He only got to drink half of it.

Vlad’s his best friend. But. No more missed connections. No more distance. No more silence between loved ones when one is hurting. No more carefully closed doors. He sets the pan on the stove to heat.

After breakfast, they sit together in the living room and finish cutting out the quilt pieces. Danny’d always liked that part the best; tracing from the straightedge and making everything square up. It’s quiet, but peaceful. They work together just as well as they did - what, last year? Has it really only been that long since Danny had last joined him in the early morning? Has Jack gotten that lax, as a parent, to not notice? Attributing all the odd little changes Danny’s gone through to puberty and growing up and new school all sounded so sensible at the time. They still do. Of course they do. Who in their right mind would ever put money on what Jack’s betting on?

But Jack’s got eyes for a reason, his grandmama used to say. So he’d been using them. Took her good words and true voice, but set the rifle back on the shelf to cool. Not everything breeds fear. Not anymore. Not when Jack’s studied ectoplasm for long enough to understand that the instinctual fear ghosts bring out in humans is nothing more than smoke and mirrors, nothing that they can help doing. Danny isn’t a menace on purpose, not in this at least. Jack sets some quiet music up to cancel out the white noise and does his best not to let Danny in his peripherals.

Honestly, it’s getting easier and easier. Looks like there’s an acclimation period followed by a threshold shifting. If Jack just keeps aware around his son, he’ll stop being afraid altogether. He’s glad.

By the time dinner rolls around, poor Danny looks fit to collapse. He’d stubbornly powered through, pretending he’d slept last night and didn’t need to head up for a rest. Now he’s holding the edge of the quilt while Jack handstitches in a few details. Jack didn’t trust him with a needle. Is glad of it when he reaches over and gently pushes Danny back and he goes down like a sack of rocks. Stays down. Passed out instantly. Jack snips the last thread and lays the quilt top over him, smoothing his wild hair gently.

Tacks a note to the table right in front of his face and heads down to the store. He’ll probably sleep through it.

-

He does. Jack makes up something quick for himself and sets three portions in the fridge. His girls’ll be home late, like he asked. He probably should have talked with Maddie first, but the opportunity came too quick. He’s sure she’ll understand. Maybe she even got something out of Jazz.

Nah, probably not. Jazz is one tough cookie. He’s rather proud.

Of both of them.

He turns the lock and gently lifts Danny from the davenport. Expects him to stay down, but he squirms and squints up at Jack.

“Hey, Danno.” He greets the face that’s too tired to be suspicious properly. “Was gonna take you to your room for the night. Is that good?” Jack pauses, considers his words, his hold, carefully, says, “Or do you wanna go downstairs?”

Danny’s eyes slip closed again, and his hand curls into the quilt. “Downstairs,” He mumbles.

Jack takes him down to the portal. Tugs the seat out from under the stairs and drags it closer to the vortex in the doorway. Gets Danny down for the night. He looks so relaxed. So green.

It’s still a strange thing, this boy of his. But just this one nice day, this little bit of trust Jack’s painstakingly wrangled from him, feels like a victory. Like a door that’s been firmly locked has been eased open a crack. There’s less between them. Less distance, even if only a little.

Jack kisses his son’s forehead and leaves him to sleep in the lab.

[iwantthedean]

A New Fall

Graphic courtesy of @atc74. 

Part One: McIntosh. Juicy, tangy, tart. 

Summary: Y/N gets bad news about her beloved home. Jensen arrives in Boston following a potentially rash decision.  Pairing: None ... yet.  Word Count: 1507 Warnings: Drinking. Set post-Season 15, which I know makes a lot of people sad to think about. Square Filled: This entire series will fill my proposal square for BTZ Bingo. 

A/N: I’m so excited to be posting a series here again! In case you missed the announcement, this will fall in line with series I’ve written before like Hard to Find, or True Fluff. The taglist is open, so if you like what you read here, feel free to request to be added! HUGE THANKS to @atc74 and @d-s-winchester for not only encouraging me to come back and write when I was ready, but for hearing me out about this series. I love you both to pieces! 

The nature of living with an apple orchard in your backyard was that the house always had a slight tinge of apple scent to it. When you pulled out the season’s first pan of apple cinnamon cookies from the oven, the scent only grew stronger. You smiled; this was the smell of your childhood. You and your grandmother had spent countless hours in this kitchen, preparing this very recipe -- one that had been handed down over four generations now.

You waited for the cookies to cool a bit before using a nylon spatula to slide them from the still-warm pan to the wire rack on the cream-colored, tile counter. Using an ice cream scoop to help you keep the portions fairly equal, you loaded the silicon mat on the cookie sheet and again slid the pan into the oven. You set the timer on the oven and washed the bits of cookie dough from your hands.

Outside the window over the kitchen sink, the leaves of the trees decorating the yard were turning the brilliant colors of Autumn: red and yellow and orange. There was even some brown, which didn’t put you off the way the drab color normally would have. Autumn had a late start this year, but here it was, right before your eyes.

“That bodes well for the Fall Festival,” you smiled to yourself, not caring that no one was around to listen. The festival was something you looked forward to every year since you were a kid; for you, it was right up there with decorating for Christmas.

You finished the cookies, loaded and started the dishwasher, then put the cookies in an airtight container -- but not before sneaking one for yourself.

“Just like Granny made.”

Satisfied with your baking endeavor, you left the cookies alone and went to freshen up for your meeting with the farm’s business manager. This was something you did monthly, to make certain everything was in order, and while you normally didn’t mind the business side of running the place, things hadn’t exactly been looking up lately.

Bartholomew Kemp was a good man. He had grown up with your father and knew your family well. After your grandparents died and your father moved to the Midwest where most of the extended family lived now, you stayed behind in Massachusetts to keep watch over the family farm.

It wasn’t much, really. Thirty-five acres of land, most of which were taken up with the orchard. The main house and the barn took up a couple of acres, and there was a small pumpkin patch that covered a few acres, too. There was a lot of upkeep required, but you loved every inch of the place, and the people who worked the land so that you could stay there and keep everything in your family’s name.

The pleasant thoughts of the place you called home faded away when you saw Bartholomew’s face. As soon as his eyes registered your presence, his expression read regret.

“It’s not good, Y/N,” Bartholomew sighed, handing over the latest financial reports. “Nothing has improved with the ripening of the apples and your sales. They’re not flying out of the market the same way they used to do. More people are buying organic from the store than chancing recalls by buying direct locally.”

You frowned as you looked over the numbers. “I don’t understand. I mean -- I understand these reports coming back from the market, but I don’t understand why I’m not getting more stock back, then. The market is constantly asking for more apples, and they’ve already cleared out of our pumpkins once … it doesn’t make sense.”

“I wish I had an explanation for you, but the numbers are all there. I’ve checked and double-checked them. Triple-checked.”

You drew in a deep breath, willing yourself to not have an emotional reaction until you were alone in your car, if not all the way home. You set your copies of the reports on the desk and looked at Bartholomew.

“So, what does this mean?”

The older man leaned forward on his desk. He looked around as if wishing someone would come in and interrupt. Finally, he looked you in the eye.

“You’re going to have to sell, Y/N.”

Tears stung your eyes, and professionalism went out the window. “Sell? No, Mr. Kemp, I can’t sell! That’s my home -- my family’s home. My dad retired and moved West and he left me the place. He trusted me!”

Bartholomew reached across the table to take your hand. He squeezed, an effort to reassure you. “And you’ve done a great job, dear, but it’s the times. It’s not you. Your father has no reason to be anything other than proud of you.”

“What about -- what about refinancing?”

You could see from his demeanor this wasn’t an easy conversation. “You could try, but -- you are an amazing teacher. The kids and parents alike love you. Your employees all love you. I don’t know if that’s something you can take to the bank against your salary, though.”

“The least I can do is try.”

Bartholomew nodded. He gave you a manila envelope to put all the reports in, and offered his assistance with your loan application should you need any. You thanked him again, then hightailed it out to your car. Before you had the key in the ignition, you lost control of your emotions. The tears flowed freely all the way back home.

* * * * *

While he waited to get off the plane in Boston, Jensen adjusted the ball cap he was sporting, then quietly undid his seatbelt. He didn’t want to catch any complaints from the flight attendants for unbuckling while the seatbelt light was still on, but having the thing secured was giving him some weird sort of anxiety.

The passengers were finally allowed to file into the airport. Jensen shouldered his carry-on and made way for the rental car counter. Once behind the wheel, the GPS told him it was an hour drive from Boston to Attleboro.

“An hour?” he groaned. “Nah. I’ll get a hotel and find the town tomorrow.”

Jensen’s first thought was to head to the Four Seasons, but he made a last-minute decision to book a room at the DoubleTree instead. It wasn’t about money, it was about simplicity. Wasn’t that the whole point of this trip? To simplify his life?

Once settled in his room, he ordered from a delivery service that would bring him both food and alcohol, turned on his favorite playlist, and stared out the window. Below him, cars raced past. People huddled in thick jackets against the chilly wind. Vancouver was probably colder now than Boston, but it was still about twenty degrees colder than Austin.

Jensen took a deep breath and turned away from the window. He pulled clean boxers from his bag and let out that breath as he headed for a hot shower. All he needed was a quick one before the delivery service showed up to get his head straight.

“A quick, hot shower,” he muttered, turning his face away from the initial cold spray of water, “and to find a place to be.”

After fifteen years on the same show with not much to vary his days, Supernatural had ended. He didn’t regret a minute of being on the show, being around the fans, or the family that had formed during his years as Dean Winchester. Now, though, he was restless. Summer was fine; those weeks felt like hiatus. Then August came and, of course, filming still had not resumed, and the restlessness had set in.

No scripts came through that caught his interest. The Austin nightlife wasn’t really keeping his attention, but there didn’t seem to be a point in going back to Vancouver. So, he started looking for other options. How this orchard had even come across his screen, Jensen couldn’t remember. He only knew that once the seed was planted in his mind, he couldn’t stop thinking about it.

So now Jensen was laying on a hotel bed in Boston, watching sports highlights on television and knocking back whiskey on the rocks. Tomorrow, when he woke up, maybe he wouldn’t even be interested in the orchard anymore -- he’d just take a plane back to Texas and be back at square one.

“Put the lid on the whiskey bottle, Ackles. Call it a night.”

Taking his own advice, he knocked back what was left in his glass, put the bottle across the room for now, and turned off the lights. He set the sleep timer on the TV and drifted off to a restless sleep.

When Jensen woke up the next morning, the sun was barely peeking over the horizon. Seeing and potentially buying the orchard seemed less like an irrational choice and more of the quiet, new adventure he was seeking. There were new possibilities here, he could feel it in his bones -- and he couldn’t get on the road fast enough to find out just what those possibilities were.

* * * * * * * * * *

The Whole Shebang: @illisea @ashleymalfoy @busybee612 @mrswhozeewhatsis @sherlock44 @ravenesque @feelmyroarrrr @atc74  @theplaidshirtmadness  @blacktithe7  @moonlessnight14 @kitchenwitchsuperwhovian @smoothdogsgirl  @melbrandes  @xtina2191 @spnbaby-67 @emoryhemsworth @goldenolaf25 @gabriels-trix @applesugar88 @rainflowermoon @deansgirl215 @thisismysecrethappyplace @calaofnoldor

Jack Attack: @tiffanycaruso @girl-with-a-fandom-fettish

Two for the Money: @jayankles @akshi8278 @jensensjaredsandmishaslover @supernatural-jackles @adoptdontshoppets

A New Fall: @marilynnlew @backseat-of-deans-67chevy @traceyaudette @ellen-reincarnated1967

[polar-stars]

Shokugeki no Kimiko à la carte Series - Morning Glimpses

Author’s Note

Late entry for Day 1 of @shokugekiocweek​ (Prompt: Breakfast)

JESUS CHRIST THIS THING IS FINALLY DONE, I AM....SCREAMING? 

This was such a chore and took up the entirety of my day and I even had to cut most of my initial plans and just....I am not even sure if I like the end-product //lies down//. Still, I’m just glad that it’s just finished at least <.< But meep, onto day 2 I suppose ovo;;

-

Good Morning Totsuki and welcome back to school after the break!

Being the dedicated journalist that I, Sotsuda-Cohen Cho am, I of course arrived as early as possible in front of Totsuki’s gates to witness the return of everyone and possibly drink in a few updates right on the spot.

I was more than surprised to find out that there are people who actually managed to be here before me.

Believe it or not but today, early in the morning, I met Inoue Eito (our current 10th Seat for the people who live under a rock) accompanied by Matsuoka Takeo (our current 9th Seat for the same ignorant people). Seems like our all-known party-lion Inoue-senpai had much of an headache this morning and needed support to walk. The support was given by a very annoyed Matsuoka-senpai, who was quick to order me away from the scenery.

I wonder what exactly Inoue-senpai thought to be a good idea doing in the very night before school starts.

Hopefully the rest of our beloved Elite Ten does not have to deal with such an insufferable headache this morning! Although, I can fairly imagine most of their mornings.

Hayama Akio will most likely awake to the most bewitching and sheer out-of-this-world fragrance one can only imagine. His father is the master of spices and aroma after all. As we all know, Hayama-senpai inherited his father’s godly sense of smell and will certainly be able to guess, no, know the ingredients to his breakfast this morning instantly.

—

“You made pancakes with cardamom, dad?” Akio asked when coming down the stairs. He smiled. “And I can also smell blueberries, strawberries, grapes, lemons, Blackcurrent-Ginseng-Vanilla-tea and Spiced-Chocolate-Coffee.”

Almost a little startled by this entrance, Akira Hayama looked up from his work in the frying pan to face his son instead. The initial surprise faded quick however as he rather began to smile. “Indeed.” He gave an appreciating nod. “Well done.”

“Since you know what’s served already”, Hisako Hayama took a halt to her hectic walk around the house, “Tea or Coffee?” A very frequently asked question in the Hayama-Household, one could almost say: the most frequent.

Akio‘s smile only grew a bit more. “Today I’ll settle for tea, mom.” Already in preparation to what would happen next, Akio was quick to raise his arm. “I’ll get it myself!”

Hisako, who had already positioned her feet into the direction of the teapots, flinched subtly. After a small moment, Hisako nodded towards her son with a friendly smile. Said smile quickly turned to a slightly mischievous one as she turned her head towards her husband. “He chose tea.” Akira replied without turning around. “Kaori chose coffee. Today it’s a draw.”

They had made it a competition between each other over who would have more success in making their two children chose their individually preferred type of beverage.

—

Thinking about the morning of Hayama Hisako’s and Akira’s son, also makes one wonder if their daughter had a good rest as well. Hayama Kaori, the greatest talent among the current highschool first-years. Some would say that she embodies grace and excellence from head to toe.

A true gathering of refinement. The Master of Fragrance, a Healer as renowned and skilled to be recognised by emperors and empresses, a diligent Elite Ten member and the icy valedictorian of her generation.

—

Akio turned his head into the direction of the table. There sitting was his little sister Kaori with the coffee mug in her hands. Even right after waking up, she still managed to look like a proper and fine, young lady. One you could most definitely invite her over to tea with the most posh and sophisticated women of high society and you would do so without worrying for even a second that Kaori would embarrass herself. To Akio it almost felt like she somehow skipped puberty.

He felt his heart sink a little at that sight. Distant seemed the memories of her happily running around Granny Jun’s garden, eagerly naming every flower she spot.

“Kaori, Good morning! I hope you slept well!” He greeted, trying is best in pushing various worried and concerned thoughts out of his mind for now. She replied with friendly words but in a tone that one would rather use in a business meeting than towards a family member. “Good Morning to you as well, Onii-san.”

Akio felt his smile crumbling a little. “I see you look ready and prepared for going back to school. That’s a joy for sure.” He said, not having the heart bringing up the most recent conflict he had with his sister in front of their parents. They all were so rarely together nowadays and Akio wouldn’t dare to ruin it.

Kaori only gave a quick nod as reply and so, Akio turned his head away again to get himself the tea his mother had prepared.

Meanwhile Akira had finished his cooking and brought a plate stapled with steaming pancakes to the table where Kaori was sitting. Once her father was near enough, she spoke up. “The coffee is exquisite as always, Dad. Thank you.” She took another sip of it and as she lowered her cup again one could see something truly rare: a small smile gracing Kaori’s face.

A soft laughter escaped Akira and all fatherly instincts in him could not resist raising his hand and lightly patting his daughter’s head. “No problem, my Blossom. You know I will support you in any way I can on your way to the top and if it’s just providing you with a good waking up on your first day of school.”

Akio turned his head away from the sight to get his tea.

—

A large portion of humanity will sort themselves into the “not being a morning person”-cult and buy mugs with such lovely slogans like “if you talk to me before I had my coffee I will kill you”. But then there’s the most beloved president of the Chinese RS, Hojo Suzume, who can make the morning sun worry about being outshined by her wide, jolly grin.

Ah, what some would give for the astonishing energy of Suzu-senpai.

—

“Good Morning!” Suzume cajoled as she threw the apartment’s door open. Some might wonder how she still had air left to do so after she’d just been out jogging for an hour but people who knew the Hojos a little better would know that Suzume has been blessed with many capacities to her vocals by her father’s genes. There were people who wholeheartedly believed she could wake the dead if she wanted to.

“Fuck. Suzu, you’re fucking drenched in sweat.” Takayuki greeted her, before taking a sip of his jasmine tea from a mug that read: “All the coffee in the world can’t make me a morning person”.

His mother, the head-chef of the estimated Hojo-Ra, Miyoko walked by with a basket of steaming Dim Sum in her left hand. Without warning she suddenly raised her right hand to lightly slap the back of Takayuki’s purple head, making him flinch in surprise. “You know the common custom in this civilization is to give a ‘Good Morning’ back, Takayuki.” "Sorry, Ma.“ Mumbled Takayuki into his cup. The woman then gave a nod towards her daughter and held the basket up. “Morning, Suzume. Dim Sum?”

It merely took the blonde teen a few bouncy steps to reach her dark-haired family members. “I think one before the shower can’t hurt.”

After two bites of the warm delicacy and a satisfied hum, she shifted her attention back to Miyoko. “Mom, do you happen to be in the mood to make a smoothie?”

The answer she received was a long, stern stare till finally a little smirk emerged on Miyoko’s lips. “I don’t think so, but who knows? Maybe the craving for a Matcha-Pear-Smoothie will overcome me while a certain young blonde will take a shower, so she’ll be ready for school.”

—

As president of the Chinese RS, Hojo Suzume obviously specializes in the cuisine of the broad lands that the Pacific Ocean separates our Japanese Isle from. As daughter of two famed Chinese chefs and legacies of Totsuki's long history, including past presidency over the Chinese RS, one can't be blamed to think that taking the president-spot had been the jolly blonde's destiny ever since she was born. But surprisingly enough Suzu-senpai had to earn this spot in a truly brutal and outstretched battle against the former president's, how to call it, cabinet.

It had truly been a thrilling fight for both the participants and the observers and it's safe to say it's memories that have burned theirselves into many of Totsuki's minds, just like Suzu-senpai had burned away her competition with her admirable knowledge around China's culinary wonderland and the excellent handling of a wok.  

Based on my observations thus far her efforts have payed off, as she is hold in high regard by most of the student body and loved deeply by the members of the Chinese RS. Without a doubt, she's one of the most cherished presidents in recent years.

—

"Should I go with my standard-fan or a more fancy one, since its the first school day after break?" Suzume inquired as she came down the stairs, freshly showered with the fragrance of pineapple-honey melon shampoo wafting around her, dressed in Totsuki's uniform and holding two Chinese fans in her hands. The fan in her right hand was simple and red, the fan in her left hand was white and had black ink-branches besprinkled with red flowers painted ingeniously on it.

Miyoko and Takayuki both turned their heads towards the stairs where Suzume was standing, both having the same frown on their face.

Suzume help up the white one and elaborated. "I think special occasions warrant special fans. But then again-" "I approve. Take the fancy one, Suzu. Yo've got Kuga-Blood in you, Suzume. We're not afraid of attention~"

Suzume turned her head upwards and met the brown, mischievous eyes of her father as he came down the stairs dressed in a ridiculously sumptuous dressing gown and a cocky grin.

"Terunori." Miyoko spoke, lowering the Dim Sum she had nearly been biting into. "I didn't thought you'd grace us with your presence this morning." Pretending to be greatly upset, Terunori placed his hand on his chest in a big gesture and cried out. "Wife, you wound me! But of course I wouldn't miss breakfast with our two most lovely and precious children before they go off to Culinary-Hogwarts, for anything in the world."

Suzume let out a laugh, Miyoko rolled her eyes a little albeit the ends of her mouth lifted subtly, Takayuki raised his eyebrow. "How the hell is Totsuki comparable to Hogwarts, dad?"

"Anyway" Terunori lifted a finger and put his focus back on Suzume. "Take the fancy fan, daughter."

Suzume smiled back. "You know that I don't necessarily need a fan in order to get eyes on me though, right dad?" Before she could continue, Takayuki already commented. "Yeah, last year she entered her first class after break by kicking the door open and shouting 'somebody once told me', I hear."

Another one of Suzume's trademark laughs ensued at the memory. "Yeah and it was epic. But, to get back to the fans, you see: My first class this year is together with…" For the first time of the morning, her smile disappeared as it was replaced with a displeased grimace. "…Four-Eyes."

As all Hojos understood "Four-Eyes" as Suzume's code-word for "Shigeo Eizan" not one sign of confusion could be seen on the family member's faces. Rather, deep understanding found its way on Terunori's, Miyoko remained a stern rock and Takayuki looked like he was about to let out an "ew".

"It's a 40-minute lesson, yet still I'm certain that Eizan will still manage to make one of his 'oh-im-smarter-than-all-of-you'- or 'morals?-kindness?-what-are-those?'-comments and.." She threw her hands into the air, frustrated. "…UGH!"

Terunori gave repeated nods. "Fair." Before he could tell his detailed opinion about the bespectacled family however, Miyoko already sighed. "You're all acting like we're at war with them." Takayuki at that only questioned. "Aren't we?!"

Suzume held up her pretty fan. "Well, it's likely that I'll have to take initiative at some point in the lesson, if his commentary gets too sickening. And I wouldn't want to ruin my good fan for that." She gave a shrug.

Terunori imitated the pose of "The Thinker" as he stated. "That's a tricky one indeed." Miyoko held up a glass filled with a green liquid while she simultaneously leaned forwards a little. "How about you try to not hit anyone with one of your fans today and just sit down and finally have the smoothie you asked for?" She then looked at Terunori. "And how about you stop trying to behave like we're the modern Montagues and make some of your Baozi?"

For a few seconds both Suzume and Terunori only wordlessly stared at Miyoko from the stairs. Then the stars lightened up in Suzume's violet eyes as she exclaimed. "Okay Mama!" She rushed towards the table and took the glass out of her mother's hand. Terunori followed rather quickly. "You're lucky that I love you so much, Miyoko-Sweetheart."

—

Suzu-senpai might be popular but even she has her critics. Her most vocal and prominent one would be a fellow Elite Ten Member actually. But that certain member, Eizan Shigeo, has much of a certain reputation himself. There could be so many things said about him, that one wouldn't know how to start. Furthermore, it's not always easy to tell which info regarding him is true and which is false.

What can very safely be said however is that he is a man all about the success and results. But maybe that's not all too surprising when we keep in mind that he's been named the heir of a consulting company with a great standing in the culinary industry. Despite not being the first-born son, his intelligence and sharp understanding of business granted him this position.

And wether you like him or not, his tactical, clever thinking is said to make him valuable to the Elite 10 as well. Even if he might not always uses his talents with the best intentions in mind.

—

"I don't like repeating myself, Umino." Shigeo hissed into his smartphone, making sure to not make too much noise. "For the last time: he has black hair, green eyes and a mole on his cheek. But what's most important is that he still owes me something and although my kind-hearted soul granted him time over the break it seems he forgot about his debt. So in order to remind him, you two morons will get a hold of him when he returns to Totsuki and wait until I arrive for the further procedure." "A-Aye Boss." The voice on the other side of the phone stammered.

Shigeo's yellow eyes rolled upwards, before he said. "Now stop calling me. The instructions are clear and I expect you two, combined, to have enough braincells to follow them." Not giving Umino any chance to say something else he then hung up.

Afterwards he made his way out of his room and down the stairs.

—

Elite 10 membership runs through Shigeo-senpai's family. Both of his parents used to be in the Elite 10 and after all, our current 3rd seat is an Eizan as well.

Shigeo-senpai and his older brother, Eizan Masashi, can certainly be seen together quite a lot despite the fact that they're not in the same generation.

Both of them are well-aware of their standing within the academy and individual skills. Together they're a force to behold and only the most bravest of souls would go up against them. Still, despite their constant cooperation, they're still brothers in the end. And all siblings bicker here and there. 

—

"Morning." Shigeo greeted as he came down the stairs. He was promptly greeted by Masashi's curt tone. "There you are! Mother made you miso soup!" Said mother was quick to interfere though with the help of her calm but strict voice. "Masashi, you don't need to sound so aggressive."

Nene Eizan then shifted her focus to her middle son and merely said. "Good morning Shigeo, I suppose you want a coffee?"

The more than familiar trademark smirk appeared on Shigeo's face as he replied. "That would be splendid, Mom. Thank you. I had a call to make, that's why I was not down here sooner." A huff escaped Masashi.

"Don't you think you're a bit too much on your phone sometimes?" Nene sighed, as she began to operate the coffee-machine. "Who is there that you need to call this early in the morning?"

"The gorillas, most likely." A third voice found it’s way into the conversation. Turning his head into the direction it had come from Shigeo's gaze landed on the kitchen table and a young, blonde boy sitting at it with a cup of hot chocolate and a bowl of miso-soup.

"Gorillas?" Nene repeated, confused over her youngest son's words. Kei was just about to open his mouth and elaborate further, but Masashi was a little quicker. "Those two indecent friends of Shigeo’s, Mother. Umino and Yamada."

"Oh…" Was all Nene managed to say before Kei voiced his thoughts again. "Shigeo has no fuckin-" "Language!" Reprimanded Masashi before Kei could finish his sentence. Likewise, Nene's face darkened a little. "Kei."

"So…Sorry." Kei stammered, imitated by the strict, warning tone his mother has used for merely saying his name.

Shigeo let out a chuckle. "Don't listen to Kei, mom. He demonizes everything." The overall arrogant tone of Shigeo's voice paired with the self-confident smirk were enough to rile Kei up yet again. "There's no need to demonize you, Shigeo! You and Masashi are demons!"

"How dare you?!" Masashi roared, but before it could escalate, Nene shut her two fiery children efficiently with a single. "Cut it out. Both of you." They followed suit immediately, both not intending to push their luck on this one.

Nene let out another sigh, before handing Shigeo the espresso she had prepared. "Please just put your phone away for breakfast at least, Shigeo. It's not polite." Before Shigeo could reply however, Nene's eyes already trailed to someone behind him and she said. "Then again, can I really blame you going by what example your father is giving?"

Shigeo raised an eyebrow before turning around and witnessing said father coming down the stairs with his eyes attached to his mobile phone, only looking up when Nene raised her voice a little. "Etsuya! Watch where you're going!" The Soba-Master then shook her head. "At times it feels I have four children instead of three."

Etsuya raised a hand to signalize his wife to calm down. "Okay, okay. I'm putting my phone away already. See?" He held the device up in presenting manner, only to put it into the pocket of his suit afterwards. He then casted a suspicious look on his spawn as he said. "Why is your mother in such a bad mood? Did you three have a fight again?"

"Fathe-" Masashi wanted to begin an explanation, but he was cut off by Shigeo. "Please, dad. I never fight. Masashi and Kei however…" He shrugged, not minding the death-glares that both Kei and Masashi threw at him. "What about Suzume-senpai?!" Kei then asked provocatively.

Immediately displeasure spread all over Shigeo's face. "Don't remind me of her. I have my first class today with that annoyance." He groaned. "Hojo is too stupid and irritating for my kindness." "Yeah right." Kei gestured quotation marks into the air. "Your 'kindness'. Good one."

"I've got to say." Etsuya now said. "Her father is the most obnoxious person on the planet, so I can hardly blame Shigeo on that one."

Nene brought herself back into the the conversation. "For being Kuga's daughter, I'd say she actually turned out surprisingly decent." She placed two bowls of miso-soup on the table. "Could I now kindly ask everyone to sit down and have breakfast together? Without any arguing?"

—

The last, but certainly not least, Elite 10 member from the 114th Generation is possibly the most infamous and yet still the most mysterious one at the same time.

For everyone else, I can make several attempts to envision how their mornings might look like. But for Yukihira Hiraku? Not possible.

Filled from head to toe with talent, Yukihira Hiraku entered the academy as a transfer student last year and took Totsuki by storm. Yet his origins are shrouded in mystery to this day. All we got is his mysterious relationship to the Nakiris, yet it still leaves more questions than answers as well.

Who is he really? The newfound idol of our school? The famed Tongue blessed by Angels?

—

"I can't believe you overslept again, Hiraku! You two are going to miss the train! Is it that hard to set an alarm. I swear-" Those were some of the things Hiraku caught out of his mother's speed-ranting as she squeezed the bento she had prepared into the mess that was his schoolbag.

Hiraku could only watch her with his usual stoic expression. Kimiko stood next to him, already having been perfectly prepared a hour ago, the school bag in her hands  and ready to walk any second. "You really have no sense of time." She scolded.

"Couldn't we ask Aunt Alice to pick us up still? If we do miss the trai-" Hiraku was just about to bring up but Erina interrupted him. "No. Your aunt is busy running an enormous school and we won't bother her because you still haven't learned how to rise early, Hiraku."

"Come on, Erina." Soma attempted to calm the frustrated blonde. "We've all been late sometime." The answer he received was violet eyes glaring at him and a sharp tongue hissing. "You're not one to talk in this matter, Soma!"

The God Tongue had finally managed to not-only squeeze the bento into Hiraku's messy bag but also close the zipper  of it afterwards, despite the fact that the bag looked like about to explode any second. She let out a sigh, exhausted by the battle that the closing of the bag had been and her own ranting throughout of it.

She then picked the the bag up, to hand it back to it's owner. "Now please hurry up, will you."

Kimiko grinned at that. "Don't worry, mom! We're Yukihiras in the end and we always find a way." She eyed Hiraku. "Even if Hiraku's helium-balloon-brain can cause inconvenience here and there, it's still salvageable and as long as things are salvageable Yukihiras find a way to salvage them. Right, dad?"

Soma laughed in response and winked. "That's the spirit, Kimiko! I believe in you."

Hiraku placed a squid-arm between his teeth and merely said. "I believe we really should be going then, huh?"

"That would be for the better, yes." Erina crossed her arms. But then, that rare but beautiful little smile of her's appeared on her lips at last. "Get to Totsuki safely and remember to have fun, okay?"

Soma appeared behind her and laid his arm around her, giving a thumbs-up. "Meanwhile we'll keep things running over here. And you know you can always check in when you need something!"

—

Well, no matter wether your morning went down eventful or uneventful, something is certain: Things on Totsuki will never be boring!

In the name of Totsuki Sports, I welcome you back to Totsuki Academy! Let's see what the second half of the school year has in store for us. Of course you can be assured that Totsuki Sports will keep you updated on all things going on in our lovely and certainly most lively school.

Signing off, 

Sotsuda-Cohen Cho !

[ditchweeds]

places where time stood still as a child —

the woods behind the giant dirt mounds where we’d pick blueberries, the giant dirt mounds we’d slide down repeatedly, empty housing developments that my dad was helping build where we’d go every weekend and pick up sheetrock scraps from houses that had just been framed, every single aspect of bowling alleys, elementary schools at night or after hours, the train tracks by my granny’s house i used to walk on and collect rocks, the ride home from a long day at the beach and the sun is setting and the windows are down, the first day of school, my grandmother’s backyard, gas stations out in the middle of the country, the backseat of my family’s old van, trying to catch crickets for bait before fishing trips

[yukiwrites]

Renewed Vows, Overpowering Love

Thank you so much for the support and the patience as always, @breeachuu! I hope you like it! ;v;)

Summary: It’s been almost 10 years since Henry and Nidra came to terms with their feelings -- since they had married, so to say. They never actually gotten around into having a proper ceremony, but that was about to change if it depended on Henry and Nidra’s closest friend, Queen Robin.

Commission info HERE and HERE!

_______________________________

The sun rose shyly in the sky as dawn started to break -- the idyllic rays of light shone through leaves, windows and roofs alike, illuminating the small yet bright flocks of dust as though they were morning stars.

The air itself felt more clean to the lungs, result of the previous week filled with rainfall. The water had washed the land in such a way that it grew anew under the people's feet.

Waking up to such array of sensations, especially beside the man who had made all of her dreams come true for the past decade, made Nidra almost feel like crying first thing in the morning.

She woke up with the chirp of birds, with the song of the leaves dancing with the morning breeze -- with the sound of laughter of her own children trying to keep quiet so as not to wake their parents up. The manakete clutched her heart with emotion, watching as Henry slept peacefully beside her once she sat up on their bed. His hair had grown a bit over the last few years, but he always made sure to cut it at around the same length; not to mention that his complexion underwent very little changes in these past 10 years they've been together.

"Well, not exactly a round ten per se, that one is tomorrow," she mumbled to herself, taking a few strands of hair from her husband's eyes. "Still, it IS mind-boggling to see that you haven't changed a bit, or at least very little, in all those years, my love." She whispered more to herself than to her sleeping consort, but a smile growing on his lips betrayed his 'pretending to be asleep' act.

"I was born with this face, you know? Nyaha!" He chuckled, rubbing sleep out of his eyes before stretching his body. "You shoulda seen me when I was a kid -- oh wait, you already have! I had this same face too, see?" He pointed with both indexes to his smile, making the manakete giggle before closing in for a morning kiss.

"I do see it; it never fails to surprise me." She said by his lips, breathing the same air as he.

"I'm serious, you know? If we ever have another kid -- one who looks like me this time -- you'll see it! I'll bet I was even born laughing instead of crying, nyaha!"

"You buffoon," Nidra nudged his shoulder, leaning her forehead against his. "You've only been drinking your life-extending potion for less than two years, and still look as young as you did a decade ago-"

"ALMOST a decade, ey? We're having our anniversary tomorrow! Is the dragon age catching up to you, I wonderr?" He said playfully, slowly wrapping both arms around his wife's waist. She once again nudged his shoulder, but this time with more strength. "Oof! Hey! I didn't even call you old-"

"Not another word!" She squashed his cheeks with both hands, making him do a fish face as his lips open and closed helplessly between her fingers.

"Yu'roldjie aja gwanny buj I shtill wuv you!" He managed to say as his body shook with mirth, Nidra's increasingly red face making him laugh even harder.

"Who's old as a granny? I am older than those, as well!" She said with an odd sense of pride, letting go of her husband's face so as to flick his forehead. Henry fell dramatically on the mattress, laughing so hard he held his stomach.

"Nyaha! You're the BEST, Ni-Ni!"

The morning progressed slowly: since only Nidra, Henry and their youngest children were at home at the moment, they simply shared an early breakfast and went about with their business -- the kids to the yard behind their house to collect berries, the adults to enjoy a nice shade watching them.

Meliodas and Cynthia had gone to the palace the previous day to stay the night there, meaning to return the following evening. They had to be back for their parents' 10th wedding anniversary, after all!

Although that was the plan, Nidra felt her son approaching from the sky much earlier than intended -- it was barely past noon once her eldest child landed up on the hill and quickly made his way down.

"Mother, Father! I've returned, but this time as a high-end courier!" He smiled brightly, running towards his parents who sat each on their own rocking chair placed right outside, towards the hill. In his hand lay a letter with the royal seal, more specifically, the Queen's seal.

"Oh, from Robin?" Nidra lifted both hands to receive the message, a tender smile upon her face. She missed the timing whence Meliodas winked to Henry as she carefully opened the envelope. "My, she truly wrote this as official-looking as possible!" She mused, perusing the detailed calligraphy and high-quality paper.

"What does it say?!" Henry jumped behind Nidra's chair, accidentally rocking it before he held it by its armrests so he could read the contents.

"I'm so very curious, as well. She forbade me from opening it as she handed it to me, the seal still hot! May I read it with you?" Meliodas approached carefully, not knowing from which of his father's shoulders to peek from as Nidra never took her eyes off of the letter.

Her smile grew until her eyes burned. "That Robin, always so attentive." She sniffled, handing the letter upwards, to whomever wanted to read it. Henry snatched it from her hands, leaning on Meliodas so the both of them could read what they already knew. "She asked us to--"

"Ohhh, juicy! Spend the night at the castle so we can all have a nice wedding-anniversary breakfast with the whole gang!" Henry cut his wife off, his smile too large to contain. Suddenly, he frowned, pensive, and looked up. "Huh? Aren't those things usually celebrated during diner? Why a breakfast?"

Nidra ran her fingers through the carefully woven chair, smiling fondly. "Before you started working on a cure for my narcolepsy, I mentioned to her that I truly envied those who could enjoy a nice breakfast with their comrades since I usually either overslept and missed them or would fall asleep during the act and attend it only halfway. I truly did not think she would remember such a tiny detail..."

"Ohhh," Henry and Meliodas nodded concomitantly, exchanging meaningful glances. "You sure are loved, huh, Ni-Ni?" He smirked to his son as he patted his wife's head; the manakete boy almost giggled aloud, but managed to simply chuckle and take a deep breath.

"Shall we get ready to go, then, Mother? Father?" He opened both arms.

"We shall." Nidra got up, stretched herself and breathed long and hard. "Could you bring the children inside? I shall prepare their bags for the journey."

"Aye aye!" Henry smooched his wife as she walked past him (receiving a well-deserved kick on the shin) before following his eldest son towards the bushes the children were playing at. "Did Cynthia stay behind forr... something particular?"

Meliodas snorted. "Nay. She's beside herself with excitement; not a good secret-keeper like that."

"Nyaha, that sounds like our Cyn-Cyn."

The bush in front of them moved before a green-haired head popped from inside. "Me-me?" Little Cynthia smiled widely, her entire face smeared with berries.

"GYAHA," Henry threw his head back in laughter, "didja miss your mouth and spread fruit all over your face, kiddo?" He opened his arms so the little girl could jump into his hug. "Here, let Dad wipe it all for you." He said as he reached for a handkerchief inside his pocket, promptly cleaning Cyn's face.

"There're more this way, Cyn- Oh, big bro!" Meli was midway to pointing towards a further bush when he lifted his head to see his older brother. "There're sooo many tasty fruit there! Let's go pick 'em!" He smiled widely, one of his front teeth missing.

"No can do, Meli. C'mere with big brother, hmm? We're going to visit Morgs and Luci!" He said excitedly, pleasantly watching as the boy's expression brightened.

"We're going to the castle?! Yayy!" He jumped into Meliodas' chest. "Now? Today?!"

"Today, indeed!" Meliodas got up, securing his younger self in his arms. "When we get there, I'll have a very important mission for you..."

Since Cyn was still too young to fly (as was Meli, but he could already handle a short flight or two), the family went to the castle by foot; arriving at the late afternoon.

From one of the large windows, Cynthia watched them walk in. Her heart almost jumped out of her throat. "Luciiiii, let me go see them, please! pretty pretty please? I promise I won't say anything!" She paced around the room like a caged animal -- a very excited animal -- finally shaking her friend by her shoulders.

"You know I cannot allow that, Cynthia! Mother's words were clear: we've been planning all of this for MONTHS; we can't have a single thing go wrong -- nor can we let Aunt Nidra to realize everything we've been doing at the very last day! You are confined into this room until tomorrow."

"But I wanna see Motherrrrrrr," Cynthia dramatically fell onto the ground, holding her friend's skirt. "Lemme seeee herrrr, I wanna hug my Father tooooo," she cried, rubbing her face into Lucina's legs.

Weak to younger-sibling-slyness, it took everything Lucina had to look up to the ceiling, away from her wailing friend. "I shan't be swayed! Tomorrow is far too important to let everything go to waste now!"

"Grrr, I need to think up of a better way to--" she gasped loudly. "I CAN FLY! LEMME JUMP FROM THE WINDOW!" She quickly let go of her friend and ran towards the large stained glass window, but Lucina herself was quite fast, rapidly managing to immobilize her manakete friend.

"Don't make me tie you up to this bed, Cynthia! You stay here!"

"Nnnnoooooo...!" Cynthia lifted her hand upwards dramatically, then made it limp beside her lifeless body. "I won't be able to sleeeeeep..."

Sighing as she noticed that her friend seemingly stopped fighting back, Lucina relaxed her grip. "Just bear with it for a while longer, Cynthia; I beg you. Tomorrow you WILL be there to welcome Ni-Ni, um... Aunt Nidra, after all."

Cynthia kicked her feet in excitement, her body trembling with energy all over again. "I know! And I can't wait!"

In another corner of the castle, Robin had instructed all the staff to smoothly guide Nidra away from the east wing, which they did quite subtly -- the manakete was received so warmly like always that she barely noticed how she didn't even touch the eastern garden and got through the western one instead. Well, the living quarters were situated at the west wing, so she didn't have any reason to suspect not being shown the eastern side. What was odd to her was how Cynthia's presence remained upstairs despite them having arrived quite some time ago -- there was no way the young manakete missed feeling four other dragons entering the castle; especially not after Nidra taught her how to sense presences.

Still, she knew how her daughter could be -- once she put her mind into something, she would be so focused on it she would lose track of time and place, so it wasn't ALL that uncommon. Just a nudge at the back of Nidra's head.

Like it usually happened whenever they visited, Nidra went to Robin's study to talk, feeling closely at home at that familiar balcony where she landed the week after Robin married, almost twelve years ago.

Her friend had aged well -- she still looked young, but with a firm chin and a wise gaze to go with her poise. She had grown into a magnificent Queen, down to her mannerisms and habit to issue orders. It warmed Nidra's heart to watch her already wonderful friend grow into an even more impressive ruler.

During their conversation, Robin would find Nidra lost in thought more often than not -- lost into the memories of their times together, and how much they shaped who the both of them were today.

"How much you mean to me, my friend. How, how very much." Nidra commented all of sudden, her eyes welling up with emotion. "Thank you so very much for remembering such a tiny detail of what I offhandedly mentioned almost a decade ago... It means the world to me. To have someone remember something about me that's often lost into my endless existence... Ah, Robin, how much I treasure that!"

The Queen smiled softly, her expression lines shaping her face into a motherly look. She grasped her friend's hand, caressing it with her thumb. "I'll remember you for the rest of my days, Nidra. Even after that, as my children grow and keep mine and your memories alive -- as you watch over them and make yourself a constant within my bloodline. I'll always be with you, no matter how far you or I go."

Nidra blinked so as to shoo the tears away, holding Robin's hand with both of hers. "And be present I shall, Robin. As I've promised before, I shall say it again -- I will be there for your children, and their children. I'll watch over them for you."

It was Robin's turn to feel misty-eyed, but she managed to blink it away and smile. "Look at us, making promises for the future when we're a night of sleep's away from your anniversary. Let us not behave like old grannies and enjoy the present, yes? We have the rest of our lives to reminisce."

"Right you are, my friend. As always; right you are." Nidra chuckled, drying a few stray tears from her cheeks. The night had already covered the land like a blanket that waited to be lifted come morning.

Unaware of whatever machinations were going on inside the castle, Nidra went to bed with Henry a bit after midnight -- the children had gone to sleep with young Morgan and Luci in their rooms, so it was only the couple for the night, like it hadn't been for a long time. Henry made an off-handed comment about being alone to 'dingle-dangle', but received a very embarrassed slap on the chest before Nidra snuggled her face on his to sleep.

Well, Henry thought, not like I'm gonna catch a wink anyway, nyaha! He held his wife closely, caressing her back up and down ever so slowly, like a unspoken lullaby.

The manakete fell asleep right after, safe in her husband's arms.

Yet, when she woke up, they weren't there to welcome her to the waking world. Frowning as she rubbed sleep out of her eyes, Nidra yawned widely as she sat up and groggily looked around the room. Everything looked right in place, apart from a wooden mannequin placed right beside the old full body mirror at the back of the room.

"What...?" She squinted, her vision still a bit blurry from sleep. The light coming through the expensive window was as idyllic as the previous day's, but now it slightly blinded her to what was in front of her very eyes: it was a wedding dress.

True, it was not a frilly dress with a huge ball-gown skirt, no. It was made with a very thin and light fabric, trumpet shaped and strapless -- though it had very, very long sleeves, long enough to trail behind her as she wore it. Taking a closer look, she could see that there was a cut in the long skirt, allowing her more movement without being crass; her leg could be seen all the way to her thigh, but since the skirt had so much thin fabric, it would look as though she was flying-

"Oh, so that's why the sleeves are so long... my wings." She whispered as she touched the fabric, not realizing she had already gotten up to see the dress up close. It had so many little, hand-sewn details from the tube top to the waist, then all the way through the sleeves as well as on the intricate back. It was a true masterpiece, carefully made for Nidra herself. And only her.

Feeling like she was walking inside a dream -- her feet felt as though she stepped on cotton -- Nidra looked around the room once again, time moving much slower than before. She saw so much more color than before, though nothing had actually changed. It was as though the sun reflecting through the stained glass painted the entire room in rainbows and stars, bringing her so much emotion she couldn't help but sob.

So that was the reason why Robin had sent such a formal letter -- but that didn't seem like it was only her friend's doing...? Confused, overwhelmed and emotional, the manakete stood still, her hand never letting go of the dress as she tried to understand the rush of emotions going through her heart.

She failed to notice the careful footsteps by the door as it carefully opened. She failed still to notice when her husband slipped inside and opened his arms. "Phew, I gotcha still in your pajamas!" He huffed, his usually pale face bright red from running. "I had to fly back home to bring these! Can't have a manakete wedding without our jewels, ey?" He flashed the jewels Nidra had made him over a decade ago, carefully woven into necklaces. "I'm glad I got to be the one to put it on you, nyaha," his breath was still shaky, but he managed to smile as he walked to his wife and put the necklace on her. "Happy anniversary, Ni-Ni. I knew asking Robin to help with your dream wedding was the right thing to do."

Blinking, it took Nidra a full minute to tear her eyes away from the dress to her grinning husband. Once she took a full look at him, she realized he wore a tuxedo -- not a black or purple one as she was sure he'd prefer, but a dark green one, complete with a rainbow colored handkerchief by his chest pocket.

The male manakete color scheme; to call upon the females with his intricate scales and battle prowess.

Seeing how she eyed his outfit, Henry smiled and Nidra could almost see him being bashful. "I'm not a dragon (and boy do I wish I were!) but 'least I could borrow the colors to match my wife!"

Nidra opened and closed her mouth like a fish, making Henry remember the previous morning and giggle before wrapping his arms around her waist. "It's okay, take your time to take it all in." He patted her back, used to giving her space to digest things through.

A few minutes later, Nidra managed to mumble a "how" and a "when", her brain a complete knot.

"You won't believe how many people Robin got into this! It'd be better to show you, though," he smiled, his thin eyes showing a tiny bit of expression lines -- age and wisdom, the same ones she saw in her friend just the previous night.

So he did change a little bit in these ten years.

"Do you want help with the dress? I mean with the undressing part," he wiggled his eyebrows, sure to make her work after making a dirty remark.

It did wonders to bring Nidra back to reality, though it cost him an aching shin. "Worth it!" He said as she made him wait outside while she got into that wonderful dress.

The more she did, the less real it felt. It wasn't as though she had always wanted a wedding ceremony. Her memories of those usually meant that she would be left alone, or at least left aside. Back when she was young, she witnessed a wonderfully large party that's marked her for eternity. Then, there was Robin's, which also dug deep into her, though that time she could be open with her friend and tell her what she was feeling.

There were other parties the Shepherds threw for some of their members' marriages, but it wasn't as though Nidra wanted to have one for herself.

What she wanted were the memories and feelings conveyed in those ceremonies. She wanted to hear the promise from her husband's lips, a bit more official-like than what he usually did (though she could still live without it for the rest of her days since he already gave her so much), and to be congratulated by her friend and family... to announce her love proudly and show it to the world that she was happy.

She was finally, truly happy.

"Aw, Ni-Ni! No need to cry so early! There're so many opportunities for you to cry later!" Henry giggled as she left the room in tears, helping her with her wild hair before escorting her to the eastern side of the castle.

They all knew that although Nidra got used to being around humans, it wasn't as though she enjoyed large crowds, so they kept it all small: at an ancient chapel right behind the walls of a forgotten garden at the east wing, they would formalize Nidra and Henry's marriage for the first time in ten years.

The place overflowed with antique energy, the forest consuming most of the columns and arches, making it an ideal place for a manakete to roost at. Vines and multi-colored flowers sprouted naturally from the old stonework, complementing the floral decoration Cynthia and Meliodas worked hard at.

At the center of the altar, there laid a Naga's Bell, the largest one Nidra had ever seen.

Widening her eyes, she tried to take it all in: she saw her friends and family scattered about the natural garden, all wearing different degrees of smiles. She saw Cyn and Meli dancing with Morgs and Lucina right in front of the paved corridor as the girls carried small baskets full of flower petals while the boys shared a large velvet cushion.

Cynthia spotted her parents coming in first and let out a loud squeal. "Mother!! You look amazing! Happy anniversary! Happy marriage! Gods I'm so excited I- whoops!" She rambled on as she ran towards her mother, tripping on a nearby root and landing right in Nidra's arms. "Nice catch!"

"Oh, my darling child... you look stunning as well. A short dress much like a flower in bloom." Nidra managed to speak, her words outpacing her thoughts. "And your sister is wearing a miniature of the same dress, oh Naga, she looks so adorable." She clutched her chest, misty-eyed. Young Meli wore a miniature tuxedo to match with Henry while Meliodas wore a long, silver coat-tail with platinum ends to signify his wings. He welcomed his mother, father and sister with open arms.

"Mother! You do not know how hard it was to keep all of this a secret from you!" He laughed, squeezing them all in his hug.

Her mind slow, Nidra looked from her husband to her daughter, then to her son. "Indeed... How did you keep it a secret? Cynthia is not much of a secret-keeper..."

"I did my best!" She puffed her cheeks.

"So did Lucina and Robin, Mother. They received the brunt of Cynthia's excitement whenever she was about to blurt it all by accident." Meliodas chuckled, placing a tuft of hair behind his mother's long ear. In a smooth movement, he took a step back to reveal his godmother and god sister.

Both Queen and Princess smiled fondly as the children danced around themselves. "Happy anniversary, old friend." Robin took Nidra's hands in hers, squeezing under her silk gloves. "I got you this time," she winked.

"That you did, you old fox," Nidra's chin trembled, her feelings finally catching up with what was going on. "Oh, give me a hug, Robin! Thank you so much for this." She pulled her friend into a bear embrace, squeezing the breath out of her.

"N-Ni-Ni, you're going to kill Mother-" Lucina blurted out as Robin started turning blue, but Nidra let go of her right after, her entire body trembling.

"I- We better start this before I start crying for three hours straight." Nidra sniffled, covering her mouth with one hand as Lucina tenderly took her turn in hugging her godmother.

Henry nodded beside her, his expression comically serious. "She means it. She WILL cry for three hours straight if you let her."

Robin guffawed, throwing her head back. "Ha! And you think I don't know that? Let's take our places quickly before Cyn scatters all the petals in that same spot she's in."

"Mommyyy! Cyn'll make the path pwetty for you!" The little girl waved, obediently not leaving her post as she had promised aunt Robin earlier. Luci worriedly tried to keep her friend to waste more petals than necessary, stealing a strangled laughter from the manakete bride.

Nidra tried with all her might to keep her tears from flowing, but flow they did -- she walked down the aisle alongside her husband as their children opened the way for them, their friends and found family waiting for them at the altar, whence the Naga's Bell hung magnanimously. Under it, Tiki used herself as a proxy for Naga's voice to call upon her dragon children so they could celebrate such a love-filled and heartwarming union.

Nowi, Nah, Cynthia, Meliodas as well as their younger counterparts all felt a strong current of power coursing through their veins, as though Naga had descended amongst them for a brief moment to touch upon Nidra’s jewel with a kiss. Both hers and Henry’s shone so brightly the next second, they had to close their eyes, not realizing they intertwined their fingers in a strong handhold.

For a moment, there was only silence, as though time had stopped simply for Henry and Nidra to look at each other and smile. “I love you,” they said in unison, Henry’s smile the truest Nidra had ever seen in the past decade.

He had grown so much since they first met -- he got in touch with his feelings more often and hardly ever masked them with a snicker, choosing to convey them to his wife instead. And at that moment, everything that he felt meant only that.

Love.

Overpowering and true love.

Nidra couldn’t keep the waterfall of tears away any longer, so she finally let them flow as freely as possible, a second after she wrapped both arms around Henry’s neck so as to tenderly seal their renewed promise with a kiss. He reciprocated for a moment, then snorted over her lips as he felt her shoulders trembling.

“D-don’t laugh!” She protested weakly as she slipped into his shoulder to hide her crying face. Henry, on the other hand, trembled with mirth.

“You’re so funny, Ni-Ni! I’m glad I married you for realsies now.” He patted her back as she grumbled something under her breath, trying to hide the huge smile that went with her tears.

All around them, their family and friends celebrated, throwing petals and rice on them. The children started dancing at the sound of the band which started playing a peppy tune, while the couples hugged themselves so as to take advantage of the atmosphere of love in the air.

Truly, Nidra couldn’t have been happier than on that day.

In truth, ever since marrying Henry for the first time, her life had only gotten exponentially happier. That only made her look forward to eternity beside her beloved, more and more each day.

For the technically newlyweds, life couldn’t actually return to normal -- it was as though they had returned to the early days of their marriage, always enjoying each other’s presence more than with other people. Robin even volunteered to keep the children in the castle for a few weeks or so to let the couple, ahem, renew their vows privately, but Nidra only allowed it for a couple of days at most.

Despite being a blushing bride, she was also a very clingy and proud mother. She didn’t want to part with her children for longer than necessary.

Which was why that, a bit over two months after their ceremony, it occurred to Nidra that she hadn’t transformed to take a nap under the tree atop the hill in quite a while. The fact only came to her mind while she was entangled in her future children’s scales as all of them took a family nap, Cynthia and Meliodas interlaced around each other, with their parents and younger siblings in their midst.

Alone in her waking, Nidra looked down to her sleeping husband, softly placing one hand over her chest.

Could it be? Could it truly be?

The manakete looked around herself -- quite literally surrounded by her family, and yet the expectation of being actually, well, expecting another member to complement it. She bit her lower lip, her eyes welling up with tears. What a great news to wake up to, she thought, snuggling into Henry’s chest. I wonder how I should say it when he wakes up.

[thighyeese]

Starch Mango by Thais Francis.

As I laid curled on her chest, I looked up at her for a sign. Maybe if I stared long enough her eye lid would flutter? Her nostril would flare? She’d slowly open her eyes and look down at me, looking at her, and know that I wanted to play, and not nap?

So I stared…and stared.

Her lips parted, a soft snore escaped. This was proving to be harder than I anticipated. So I squirmed. Instinctively, she pressed my ear into the dip where her collar bone met her neck.

She smelled like air condition.

“Doudou” she muttered as she rhythmically shook her leg to lull me to sleep. Normally laying on my mummy’s chest was one of my favorite things to do, but today, I had another favorite thing I wanted to do.

My eyes traveled just past her shoulder to the opened glass louvers, where I could see it. Under the sun, hanging from our tree. Yellow with black speckles, ripe and waiting to be rescued. They didn’t know they needed rescuing, but my belly knew. Already my fingers could feel the soft flesh when I peeled back the skin, my tongue could taste the juice, my teeth could feel the hairs stuck between them. As I watched the mango swaying in the breeze, I heard it say... “save me.” I had no choice, I had to fulfill my obligation to it, and to the world.

I needed an accomplice, not my dad, he would yell at me just for asking, so I slinked off mummy and tip toed into my room. I looked around, there was Papa Smurf, Mrs. Ibis and Mr. Teddy amongst the others. I knew they wanted to help, but if my dad found them outside, I’d get licks for sure. Is there another way? There must be. I could ask my neighbor best friend but we weren’t on very good terms, ever since I said her mummy was a prostitute. Honestly, I don’t know what a prostitute is, but me and granny were watching “Murder She Wrote,” and I heard them say it. I don’t think my neighbor best friend knew what it meant either, but then her mummy came into the yard and told me it was time to go home. That was yesterday, and today is a new day, but still…I don’t know.

I looked out the window at the tree one last time. The mango looked lonely, sad even, it needed a place to call home, and that home was within me. I found myself with no choice; I must perform this task on my own. And that’s when I remembered. My special shoes!

Last month, mummy and dad took me to America, so we could go to Disneyworld. They said it was a present because Ms. Grey said I started to raise my hand before speaking in class. How nice of them. Ms. Grey must not know that I told everyone she wears a wig, because then I don’t think they would have taken me. Anyway, mummy, dad and me stood in the store, surrounded by Mickey Mouse, and a lot of people with yellow hair, and that’s when I saw them. Pocahontas shoes. When I put them on I felt something, those are my good luck shoes.

Standing outside in my lucky shoes, I surveyed the land, just like Pocahontas did. It smelled like yesterday’s rain – a little bit sweet, a little bit warm, a little bit new. The grass would be wet, which meant I had to be extra safe in my special shoes. I checked every patch of grass to map out my steps. As I stepped from patch to patch, I saw the tree get closer and the mango get bigger. I could see that it was heavy and ready to be plucked. I was staring so hard that I didn’t realize what happened until it was too late. Until my foot felt wet and submerged in the brown pulpy soil. I felt my belly drop – what if dad saw me? Would I get licks? How would I clean my shoe? I looked back at the house. Then at the tree. Then back at the house. I was closer to the tree than the house. I looked down at my one good Pocahontas foot, she didn’t let the people with the yellow hair win, so I wouldn’t let this mud win either. The deed had to be done. So I hopped.

One hop. Two hops.

Another hop.

Then…there!

The lowest. Ripest. Speckliest yellow mango of them all. For a moment I couldn’t see it. The sun shone directly above it, blocking it from my view. I closed my eyes, and saw the speckles behind my eyelids. I opened them again, and shaded my eyes. Finally, it reappeared. Eagerly wanting to fulfill its destiny of making me happy. I reached up. The tip of my longest finger could almost touch it, but not quite. I reached again.

A bead of sweat tickled as it rolled down my spine. My arm trembled as my toes gripped the softness beneath me. My fingers almost grasped but it only grazed the bottom. Swaying quickly back and forth… back and forth, then stopped.

Maybe I could climb the tree? I looked for a place to put my foot and that’s when I saw them. Circling around the branch and marching down the bark in a straight line. They looked like an army, big and red with their eyes bulging out of the sides of their heads. My gaze followed them, down the tree, as they made their way to the ground. Then…

Ouch! Ouch! Ouch!

I looked down and saw a pool of red bachac ants running wildly and bumping into each other at my Pocahontas feet. I began to jump and slap at my feet. I bit my lip, so I wouldn’t cry, because if my dad found me like this, I’d REALLY have something to cry about.

I ran to the side of the house and pulled my shoes off quickly and shook them off. I felt the stinging at the sole, and the pulsing of the bites at the top of my feet. The tears felt hot as they ran down my cheeks. I could not stop the hiccups even though I held my breath. The tears kept falling, my feet kept stinging and the hiccups kept racking my chest. I crouched to the ground, knees to chest, head to knees.

“Big-girls-doh-cry…big-girls-doh-cry” I repeated between hiccups, then I thought for a second…who made up that stupid rule? Big girls can cry if they want. So I let my tears fall. I put my foot in a bucket of rainwater next to me, it helped with the throbbing. Then from the corner of my eye I saw something brown. I turned my head and saw tracks of mud trailing towards… me.

I looked at my parent’s window. They’re definitely going to know now. They’ll know that I wore my new fancy Disneyworld shoes, and daddy will get mad at me, and then mummy would get angry at him for getting mad at me, and I would feel bad. I didn’t want to feel bad, I wanted to feel triumphant (Ms. Grey taught us that word). All I wanted was a mango. I squeezed my eyes shut and sighed. When I opened my eyes again, I saw the tree and the mango. Still needing a place to call home. I then saw a pile of rocks, from the pretend moat that I built yesterday. I grabbed some and put them in my pocket. Me and Pocahontas didn’t come this far to give up now. Plus, if I got in trouble, then at least I’d have a full mango belly.

So, I marched over to Mr. Mango tree, but I stood far this time. My feet planted on the concrete, I threw a rock- it bounced off the bark. I threw another, it caught a leaf. I looked back at my house, down at my feet, up at the sun, then to the tree, it was now or never.

I squinted my eyes and aimed…

Now, I’m back in my spot at the side of the house, sitting next to my used to be moat. My feet are soaking in the puddle of water which also washed off the mud from my shoes. The mango juice is running down my elbow as I bite into it, again and again. Mr. Mango is making its way to my belly and I am happy. Mr. Mango is also happy, happy to have been rescued, rescued by me.

That’s when I hear a voice: “Ms. Lady? What yuh doing?” I look up, and there’s mummy, hair rumpled, wrapped in a sheet, watching me from out the window. Caught. I look at the yellow mango then back at my mummy. I try to find my voice, but it’s buried under mango juice. She smiles at me.

“Come inside when yuh finish so I could clean yuh up before yuh daddy sees you” She then closes the louvers and lays back down in bed. I smile to myself, I can’t possibly get in trouble if mummy is on my side.

[waveypedia]

“From the day we met, I knew I’d hurt you eventually.” Lena and Webby ¬u¬

“From the day we met, I knew I’d hurt you eventually.” - Lena and Webby

The city was quiet. It was peaceful, but the peace was eerie, like the citizens of Duckberg were hiding in their homes, waiting nervously for something to change. Waiting for a sign. To see if it was safe, or to snag a chance to escape.

Despite all that, a duckling was sitting on the marina, swinging her legs in the sea. Water sprayed away from her in clean arcs, disturbing the silent peace. Her hands rested on the ground, absently toying with the loose stones. To an onlooker from the streets, she seemed content.

But anyone facing her from the other way would see the silent, endless stream of tears that streaked down her cheeks and fell onto her skirt, the way her beak was crumpled to hold in the sobs, and the way her shirt and sleeves were stained with previous tears.

The quiet splashing covered the sound of quiet tears, and if anyone was looking, they didn’t notice.

The sun ticked across the sky, the only indication Webby had of the time. She didn’t remember where it had been when she arrived. She had tried to be strong. The family was trying to clean up the city, since no one else would. She had spent the morning at Fenton’s house, with Huey and Scrooge as they tried to relay what had happened behind the scenes to Fenton’s mother, who was a cop. They needed to get the information to the police so they could start helping them and so no legal troubles would come against the family, and she was their best bet. That’s what Huey had told her, at least. The oldest brother had been the most detached from the mess that went down a few days ago, and he was the most diplomatic.

Webby wasn’t diplomatic, but they needed her.

They needed her because she had been alone with Lena most of the time. Because she had the best chance of piecing together what had happened.

They were still reeling.

Webby had tried to be helpful, she really had. But every time she opened her mouth and summoned the happy memories of Lena, of her first real friend, who hadn’t even really been her friend, something bitter and bubbly rose in her throat and tears burst freely from her eyes.

Every memory felt like a fresh stab in the gut over an old wound. Memories that she had thought about the very day as that mess as happy and uplifting.

After the third try with Officer Cabrera, who was surprisingly gentle despite how Webby had seen her blow up multiple times, Huey awkwardly suggested they take lunch. She knew he and Scrooge would try and comfort her, and part of her longed for it. Part of her longed for their hugs and soothing words and to pour out the bile bubbling inside her.

But she couldn’t.

So when Officer Cabrera left to check on Fenton and Huey to get lunch, she ran.

Scrooge only turned his back for a minute, and she felt bad betraying her uncle like that, but she couldn’t stay.

She ran and ran through the city streets until she found herself at the marina, where she had been just a few days earlier, desperately convincing Donald not to take the boys and leave.

It felt like the worst thing ever then. That she might lose her brothers and her uncle, so soon after she gained them. But she powered through it, because she never believed they would really leave, and she had Launchpad.

And, even if they did leave, a small part of her reminded her that they would text, and Scrooge was her uncle now. She wasn’t alone.

But mostly, she had Lena now.

How ridiculous that seemed in hindsight. She was so grateful she still had her brothers and her uncle, but she had lost her best friend.

If she was ever her best friend to begin with.

Webby was usually perceptive, ready to strike at a moment’s notice. Granny had made sure of that.

But she was so lost in her thoughts she didn’t notice the awkward, hesitant footsteps approaching until a hand landed on her shoulder and a quiet, nervous voice asked, “Webby?”

Webby jumped back, and Lena did too, looking more nervous than Webby had ever seen her. Lena had always been cool and confident, even when they were in danger. A couple nights ago, she had seen Lena’s facade shatter, and it was almost as unsettling as when Magica haughtily informed her Lena had never been her true friend at all.

Lena’s eyes tracked over the tears on her cheeks and she clutched her hands in front of her chest.

Webby stood up slowly and faced the other duck, wiping her cheeks. “Lena,” she replied hesitantly. “Where have you been?”

After Magica had been defeated, she had simply vanished. They had searched and searched, but… nothing.

Webby had almost given up hope.

But here she was, standing right in front of her, with her familiar long black sweater, now torn and dirty, and pink hair. There were small cuts all over her, some of which had been hastily bandaged, but most were left to the open air.

Webby opened her arms and froze, not sure whether to hug her or sock her in the jaw.

Lena shrugged. “Around. Anywhere I wouldn’t be found,” she replied quietly.

Webby bit her lip. Behind her eyes, memories spun of days searching, of hope dwindling into far-fetched fantasies, of the identical disappointed and pitying look in everyone’s eyes when they finally gave up, and the stone that dropped in her stomach when she gave up.

“We looked really hard,” she finally replied.

Lena stared at her feet. “I know.”

Not sure how to reply, Webby let out a long sigh and turned to face the ocean again. While she had been talking to Lena, the sun had dipped below the horizon and was steadily sinking, casting  glowing amber rays across the deep blue water.

She didn’t look at Lena. She couldn’t. So she bit her lip and stared as the sun slid slowly below the inky waves.

But then she heard a soft sound, so quiet she wasn’t sure if she’d really heard it, or if she had imagined it.

Then it came again. And again.

Sobs.

Webby turned to look up at Lena who was staring out at the water as well. Her beak was trembling and tears were flowing from her eyes and rolling down her cheeks, splattering on the rocks below. “I’m sorry,” she gasped. “I’m so sorry, Webby. I didn’t… I didn’t…”

Webby stared, unsure what to do.

Lena gulped and rubbed at her eyes before continuing. “I never meant to hurt you- well, I did, I knew I was going to have to hurt you, but I never really expected for it to happen. I tried to stop Aunt- Aunt Magica at the end, but I waited too long. She was too powerful.”

She fidgeted with her shirt. “I’m tired of hiding. I was going to leave, to steal a ship and run away to anywhere that would have me. But you’re here. I guess that’s lucky,” she laughed. “I can’t really leave without saying goodbye.”

Webby stared at her friend. She’s leaving. I just got her back and now she’s leaving again. For real this time.

Lena absentmindedly swiped on her eyes. “Webby, you were my only real friend since, like, kindergarten. My dad moved around a lot, and I was always too weird for everyone else. I stopped going to school in second grade. Then it was just me and Aunt Magica, and all she wanted to do was train me. I never had time for friends. These past few months have been horrible, but they’ve also been some of the best in my life because I finally had a real friend.”

Webby blinked. Lena was always her first friend, but she had never suspected she might be her first too.

“Were you ever really my friend?” she asked quietly.

Lena sniffled quietly and took a moment to respond. “Well- um- from the day we met, I knew I’d hurt you eventually. Aunt Magica made sure of that. But that first day, with the messages in bottles - I never expected you to respond. Aunt Magica pointed Huey, Dewey and Louie out to me, when they left on their boat, and the messages were supposed to be for them. I doubted they’d take the bait, but it was fun while it lasted. And then you came, and Aunt Magica got so excited because she recognized you. And you liked me, and wanted to be my friend. You invited me into the mansion - and suddenly everything started speeding up. She’d been talking about getting revenge on Scrooge for years, but it never really felt like it would ever happen. Suddenly it was real and rushing towards me, and I had to betray you all.” She hugged her sides. “But we’re friends, Webby. I hope. Are we?”

It was bizarre to see Lena’s casual facade shatter into a million pieces right before her eyes. Webby shook the pieces of the old Lena out of her vision and took in the new Lena, emotional Lena, with no strings attached.

She stood up and offered Lena her hand. “If you want, we can be friends now. No betrayal. No Magica. Just us.”

Lena sniffled and grinned, accepting her hand. “I’d like that. I’d like that a lot.”

Webby beamed, her first real smile since Magica had come. “Me too.” She glanced back at the sun just as it slid below the now-black waters. Her smile faded as the faces of her family flooded her mind, tired and worried. Her grip tightened on Lena’s hand.

Lena stopped drying her eyes and glanced down, worried. “What’s wrong?”

Webby sighed. “I’ve been out here for a while. My family is probably really worried. We should go back.”

Lena stiffened. “Maybe I shouldn’t go.”

Webby’s head jerked up to stare at her friend, who was avoiding her eyes and nervously fidgeting with her shirt. “No- you have to! I can’t lose you again!”

Lena blinked in surprise. “I won’t leave the city, if that’s what you’re worried about.”

Webby set her jaw. For the first time in three days, everything was crystal clear. She knew exactly what she had to do. “No, you have to come back with me. They’ll be happy to see you, I promise. And you’ll need to see them sooner or later if we can still hang out like we used to.”

Lena hesitated, then nodded warily. “Okay.” Her grip on Webby’s hand tightened. “Let’s do this. For our friendship.”

Webby smiled and raised their joined hands in the air like they had just won something. “For our friendship. We can do this!”

~

THE ANGST/COMFORT TRAIN IS COMING INTO THE STATION CHOO CHOO BOYS

This was so fun to write :P it was also weird, though, because Lena is so cool and calm and casual all the time, it was bizarre to write her breaking down. I hope I did it all right! The whole family is struggling during the aftermath, but Webby most of all, because she and Lena were so close. 

I tried to leave the ends loose so it can fit into canon, but for this story what happened is Lena tried to chicken out at the last second but Magica convinced her to stay, she revealed herself to the fam and then ran off. They defeated Magica and now they’re trying to tie up loose ends and stuff.

I’m totally not planning a fluffy sequel where Lena gets adopted oh no