#encrypted-cryptid

Lear is sent back in time to his childhood—but trapped within the confines of his child body. He cannot leave to find Hoopa, he cannot escape to Unova to meet Cheren early. All he can do is sit in his tutoring classes, and remember the kind future he will someday have.

As the tutor’s droning speech about macroeconomics continues, Lear finds himself losing his mind. The images of his friends linger, but they’re beginning to blur.

Rachel and Sawyer are still here by his side, of course, but they’re not the same. Their meekness had been beaten out of them by adulthood… but they aren’t adults yet. Far from it. He’d had to beg his father to let Rachel be his retainer; he hadn’t had to do that in his real childhood.

He’s starting to forget what Cheren’s face looks like.

Lear’s arm cross over his chest and linger there until his tutor glares at him. “Master Lear, sit at attention. This is very unbecoming of a prince,” they sigh before smiling. “I should tell your father about this.”

Lear bows his head like a terrified kid. “I’m sorry, sir.”

won at too great a cost

when they'd been shown to the cabin the first time, their bag and the minotaur horn had been in the middle of the floor, surrounded by a handful of others. it was fine, for a moment, but then declan was suffocating, and something about the look on their face must've screamed please don't make me do this today because negotiation for a spot against the wall goes quicker than they thought it would. they wrap the blanket around their shoulders and huddle against the wood, staring at a spot that's been painted and re-painted so many times that the chips are coming off in every color they can think of.

And we love to see it!

[ID: a drawing of Lucretia from the shoulders up, against a white background with a blue and white circle behind her head. She is a dark-complexioned woman with an off white buzzcut and lots of freckles. She’s wearing a red jacket with the collar turned up, ace flag pins on the corners of her jacket collar and a shirt with the lesbian flag on it. She is looking off to the right and smiling slightly. END ID]

A gift for @dvcknewtons, created by @encrypted-cryptid!

the aftermath goes a little like this: declan sees echo sitting in the grass, hair loose and the pink faded from their outfit, and he very nearly trips and eats dirt in his scramble to get to them. "e-e-ch-o," he warbles, far from coherent through the wailing static, then he's throwing himself down onto their lap and holding on as tight as he can without hurting them.

"dec- god, dec, i'm sorry, i'm sorry, hey, hey-" echo wraps their arms around him, hand reaching for his hair and then aborting the motion to trace little circles along his spine instead. "you- you found me, you got it, we're- we're okay-"

their voice cracks. that's all it takes for declan to start bawling, record scratching as speech cuts completely, all his i'm sorrys and i love yous stuck being conveyed by the way his fingers scramble for purchase in the back of echo's shirt. he hears echo choke on a cry of their own and tries to lean back, only for them to pull him right back close.

declan, through blurry tears, can see the small drops of dried blood along the side of echo's neck where his claws had broke skin. they've already closed up enough to not need scabs, but it makes him want to file his claws right down to the skin anyway. he presses his forehead into the skin—if the blood flakes off onto him, that's only repayment for how badly dec must be ruining echo's clothes with 5's—and squeezes his eyes shut.

neither of them say anything for a long, long while. until both of them are cried out, guilt-ridden feelings scooped out with a tear-shaped spoon. when they do, it's quiet. agreement to go inside. they don't let go, hands locked together tight as ribbon. when declan stumbles at the doorway, abruptly and horribly scared and feeling horrible that he does, echo squeezes his hand and looks at him, clear green.

"ow!" declan drops the bundle of fabric and paper they're sewing into their lap, sticking their finger in their mouth with a tiny frown. 10 glances over from the other side of the couch.

"cringe."

"shu-ut the- up ple-ease-" they pick it back up and scrounge for their sewing needle, eyebrows furrowed. they look up once at herbert across the room before returning to the work, adjusting their position on the couch to knock their shoulder into 10's. he sighs and looks over fully, lips pursed. "ho-ow's it looki-ing?"

"hm. looks fine." he sets down his pen and picks at the stitching. "any gold?"

"ca-an't touch it ei-eith-er! bu-ut i'll tr-ry, if he'd li-ike it."

"he would."

"'ka-ay! do-oes that go for ev-verything?"

declan waits patiently as 10 considers that, both of them glancing back over at herbert. the kid trips over a segment of carpet and rolls over, still focused on the scrap-fabric plushie in his hands.

"no. he likes that well enough. just clothing. and not a lot—"

"yo-ou need to pi-i-ick him up, i kno-ow!" declan grins as 10 rolls his eyes, leaning away; they fall onto the couch cushions with a soft thud. "di-ick. i'm ma-aking up fo-or lo-st time, i wo-on't mess it up."

"obviously. and watch it."

"he's hea-ard worse fro-om you!"

this world has only one sweet moment set aside for us – the broderick & 10 wedding piece. declan builds the venue by hand; it's distinctly his style of work, petals falling from the trellis ceiling and all, but the colors are all right and really 10 thinks its better like this anyway. even when rassel slips on stray petals. (especially when rassel slips.) the food he preps tastes like home. broderick doesn't have anyone to give the best man speech for him, so echo does both, and balances the playful shovel talk on a knife's edge for both of them too. rassel fills the afterparty with the most harmless displays of magic they can manage, silent-enough fireworks and fog across the dance floor, and their wedding gift to 10 is a handful of shed scales and a fridge of enough enderman blood to last him a year. broderick's gift from them is a normal wooden duck. there's no real family structure to do all the ordered dances for but declan sweeps broderick into a clumsy, loose dance from his village's festivals and echo stands on 10's feet while they waltz to bug him. and 10 and broderick dance after, of course, slow and steady. rassel and declan and echo do some strange three-person dance in the background and collapse giggling. they get pictures and paste them into each scrapbook. they could live in this moment forever.

evan goes to pick up eli at their house for the date, even if they'll both have to go back to electrasweet anyway to get to the restaurant. they had rock-paper-scissor'd for the honor, and he's always been a little shit at it, in a way that's only ever made his life slightly inconvenient or slightly more comedic. eli is standing out on the porch, leaned over the railing, wearing a button-up and a suit jacket with a glittery, fluffy black skirt that would touch the ground in the back if it was anyone else wearing it. as it is, it reaches eli's ankles, which is impressive enough. their blue tie is undone, ends dangling down from around the unbuttoned collar, a stark spot of color.