#lampo being himself

[lamponellatempesta]

Look likes a meme, but it's legit call on discord I had with my bro @gingericywolf

[whiskeysmulti]

❤️ + @musessinabag

Send ❤️ + a URL and I’ll write something nice about them/their blog!- accepting!

.Whiskey. I love your writing, honestly, Rikku. You bring out a lot of different facets to some really cool characters that we didn't honestly see too much of in KHR at least. I can't speak for your other fandoms because I haven't watched their series. Mukuro for example, has a cocky, snarky side that we see come out in your writing. You remember that he's also a slight troll under it all and not just the terrifying antagonist of the Kokuyo Arc. He has his own bonds and can be caring at times depending on the situation and who it's towards. Aoba is another good example of how you bring them to life. We see the brainy, cocky Forest Guardian but also the teasing side that picks on his own boss for being a loser. Which is very canon, very on brand for him.

Yamamoto is actually a muse that's harder to keep in character than most people think. Because he's multi-faceted. Sometimes his cheery easy going nature overshadows those moments when he's more serious and when things in his life were darker (the rooftop scene for example). Baseball was his world and he almost lost it. And I see that in your Yamamoto. That he's a guy who had goals and almost lost it all and had to find himself again. A guy who knows now that he's matured a little that sometimes you have to choose a different path than you expected. He's strong, but smooth and has his own moments too. Gokudera gets so frustrated when he teases him, but that's on brand for them. He has a certain duality to him that you write wonderfully. (I love his interactions with Squaletta too)

Your Ryohei is so good too. I love him. The thing with Ryohei is that yes he has those moments when he is the stereotypical dumb jock who can only think of sports and lives his life to the limit every day. He's not afraid of anything because he's already doing his own thing and not even thinking of the fact he could die. Except when his sister is involved. That's the only thing that scares him. He has a humorous side and again, he's another character I really enjoy seeing you write. 10/10 on your portrayals there.

Cutting here because this is getting long, and I still have your first gen muses to do.

Lampo, I find interesting because we saw so little of him. So it leaves a lot open for headcanons and such. I need to send Giotto or G after him and get some interaction going there too.

Giotto, again, I need to send G to him more. But Your Asari is a first gen I have worked with. He's another interesting muse. You write him excellently as well. He's calm and has a soft feeling to him. He's there for the others as the rain that gently washes away the pain but again there's that other side to him where he can be serious.

Mukurowl is another muse I love. He's so funny and he gets on Uri's nerves a lot but that's typical of cats and birds, and we saw the Storm and Mist never got along, which makes sense that their box weapons wouldn't either. To wrap this up, I'll conclude by saying, don't stress so much, Rikku. You do one hell of a job writing your characters and I look forward to every interaction and reply with you! Keep writing, keep enjoying yourself and keep your head up, you deserve to shine!

[gainaxvel3o]

Episode of Broly and Kale: CLASH OF THE LEGENDARY SAIYANS!

It was morning on the planet Vampa.

Broly was standing close to the cave's entrance. It had been a month since he came back here with his… friends? Head had to admit that he still wasn't used to Cheelai and Lemo's presence in his life. He was grateful for them. Eager for them to stay. Still, it was a touch awkward to wake up with people with him. Even his father, Paragus, had kept his distance with the remote in hand.

To be with people who cared about him… it made him happy.

"Broly? Yoohoooo are you in there?"

The man blinked. He turned towards Cheelai, who was smiling at him.

"Cheelai?

"We're about to start breakfast soon!" She said. "You got something on your mind, Broly?"

Broly scratched the back of his head. "I was… thinking. Nothing wrong."

"Hm?" Cheelai said. "Well if you say so…"

"Cheelai," Lemo said holding his cup. "Why don't you help me out over here? That moron never showed us how these capsule whatevers work."

She rolled her eyes before joining Lemo inside. That meant Broly would be left to his own thoughts.

The moron they referred to, Goku… or Kakarot as he asked to be called… Broly had met him and another warrior Father hated during his trip to Earth. Over the past month Kakarot would suddenly appear and attempt to train him. In spite of his dogged insistence, Broly didn't hate Kakarot. He hadn't sensed any malicious intent from the man at all far from it.

But Kakarot wanted a fight. Broly didn't want one. It was a simple an objection as that.

Paragus had tried to instill fighting instincts into the boy since birth, but Broly never had the heart to follow through. Even when Paragus had separated him from his beloved pet Ba, Broly remained a passive boy. He didn't want to hurt anyone.

Especially not after the last time he had used his power…

"Hey Broly!"

The familiar voice startled Broly from his thoughts. Kakarot had returned. It seemed he had brought others with him.

"That's him? Damn, he's got muscles that's for sure. Could probably cut meat with those abs."

"…"

"I brought friends!" Kakarot said. "These are Saiyans from another universe! Isn't it exciting?"

Another what? The idea seemed bizarre to Broly. Then again, everything about Kakarot was bizarre. One moment Kakarot could be a gentle soul and the next someone who would fight to the death if need be. How does one switch like that?

The two other Saiyans stepped into the cave. One was a woman with hair that spiked upwards and violet pants and a piece of clothing around her chest. She had a similar air to Kakarot, someone who had experience and eager for a challenge.

The other girl… she had red clothes and her hair was wrapped in a ponytail. She kept her head low, as if afraid of her surroundings.

"One of these two is like you!" Kakarot said. "So I thought it'd be nice for you to meet. Maybe she can help you unlock your power!"

"Don't go around making choices for other people!" The woman with spiky hair said. She turned towards Broly. "You must be Broly. I'm Caulifla. This one here is Kale."

The girl, who Broly now knew was Kale, stepped up. Their eyes connected for the first time, and Broly knew today would be an important one.

_______________________________________________________________________

"Wait give me a second to understand this."

Cheelai was more than a touch confused by the newcomers. The Saiyans, as they tend to do, were chowing down at the food in exuberance, leaving no trace of food left (making Lampo whimper something about how long it would take to restock everything).

"So you guys are Saiyans from another universe?" Cheelai asked. "And you brought them here for a training session?"

"About right!" Goku put down his bowl. "I noticed that Broly's been holding back a lot of power during our training. I thought if he had someone more on his level to spar with he could tap into more of his potential."

"On HIS level?!" Caulifla punched the table, wiping the food on her lips with her other hand. "Kale isn't a prop for your guy. She'd totally clobber him in a heartbat! She didn't participate in the Tournament of Power to get taken out by a caveman."

A loud burp erupted in the room. Everyone turned towards at Broly, who blushed.

"S-sorry…"

That got everyone to chuckle for a bit. Cheelai was glad to see Broly was still himself… though she wasn't exactly thrilled at this idea.

"How do we know this won't end up… i dunno, blowing up the planet or something?"

"Oh don't worry about it," Goku grinned. "If they do blow up the planet by accident we'll just have Whis turn back time and stop it!"

… she wasn't going to even try to find out what that meant…

"Alright, if this helps him out." Cheelai said. "Just be careful."

Throughout this conversation, Broly and Kale stared at each other, sizing each other up.

To Broly, Kale was interesting. Apparently she was his counterpart from another universe. He saw the way Kale would look back at Caulifla, hanging on her every word, the way she retreated onto herself as she was praised for her power. Evidently, she and her mentor had a good relationship. Is this was he could have had with his father? He wasn't sure.

Yet, Broly could sense something within this Saiyan. She was hiding something. Broly was curious as to what it could be.

Kale had seen similar things with Broly. She somehow got it into her head that he wasn't all too happy about being in this place. If he could live out his days alone he would. But he was here. So was she. Still, what Goku said about him was curious. Broly was her counterpart from Universe 7. He was shy and retreated to himself, much like she had not too long ago.

She wondered if this was what power did to people. Isolating them from peers, unable to form connections because it could break others under it's sheer weight.

"Hey Kale!"

Kale blinked. "I'm sorry Caulifla, what was that?"

"We're about to start the match. You ready?"

She nodded. "Yes."

_______________________________________________________________________

"Remind me again why we're entertaining this match?"

Champa, Universe 6's God of Destruction, was tapping his foot impatiently. His brother Beerus, Universe 7's God of Destruction, scoffed.

"Well Champa I just thought it'd be interesting to see how our Saiyans stack up each other," Beers grinned. "What, you afraid our Saiyan could beat yours?"

"Not a chance!" Champa said indignant. "I would never allow any of MY Saiyans enter your universe if they couldn't beat yours, brother!"

To the side, their Angelic attendants Whis and Vados sighed. This wasn't the first time they argued, nor will it be the last. Each remembered how many times they had to prevent the brothers from fighting before they blew up the universe along with them.

"I'll admit to being excited about this as well." Vados said. "Perhaps Kale had improved enough to a candidate for a God of Destruction, Lord Champa."

Champa looked at her in horror. "N-no way! She may be a Saiyan but she will never be able to become a Destroyer God!"

"In any case," Whis pointed towards the ground below them, "The match is close to starting. Quite a shame that Vegeta took the other one for training. He might have been interested in this battle. I hope Goku knows what he's doing."

Beerus shrugged. "Does he ever? Really? That man will be the death of me one of these days."

Down the cliff, Broly and Kale got into position. Caulifla gave Kale a once over.

"Don't worry. We've fought tougher in the Tournament of Power," Caulifla winked. "You got this in the bag!"

"Right, sister." Kale bowed. "I will do my best."

On the other end, Cheelai was patted Broly on the back.

"It's okay Broly." Cheelai said. "Just a training exercise. No one's going to get hurt okay?"

He nodded. Cheelai wasn't sure if he really agreed or was doing to not worry her, but decided not to press.

"Okay," She walked off. "Good luck!"

Now, it was only Broly and Kale. Kale got into a fighting stance. Broly, however, just stood there casually. He felt like he didn't need it.

"Ready…" Goku said. "Begin!"

That was a mistake on Broly's part.

Kale vanished in front of him. Before Broly could even see, she landed a direct hit to his face, sending him flying.

"Wh… what?" Broly asked.

He regained his composure quickly. Just as Kale was about land another hit, Broly blocked it with his own hand. He threw a punch, but Kale dodged it. Broly punched away, but Kale was small and nimble. She dodged the attacks with ease.

"Way to go Kale!" Caulifla yelled. "You got him on the ropes!"

Kale had come a long way since the Tournament of Power. She would freeze up in combat during it, but thanks to the help of Caulifla (… okay, and Cabba she supposed) Kale was better at holding her ground.

Broly figured out that he wasn't going to get anywhere with punching. He tried to grab Kale, but she floated above his hands. Her own hands glowed with energy and they blasted Broly's face with it. The man held his hands over his eyes as he recovered.

Kale stepped on the ground. She panicked. "You like that?"

His eyes opened fast. "I don't."

Broly pointed his hands towards her, and launched a ki blast where she stood. Kale jumped up to avoid it, only to get struck in the stomach.

"Hmph," Broly snorted. "Give up?"

Kale only smirked.

Together, they flew upwards. Every time Broly tried to punch Kale, she was able to block them with her own fists. Their powers were equal. Each time they struck each other, their auras glowed brighter, their green energy growing with each second.

"Incredible," Cheelai said astonished at the sight. "He's tapping into the power he had on Earth!"

"Not yet," Goku said. "The fight is only getting started."

Indeed, Broly and Kale were only sizing each other up. Broly in particular wasn't sure what Kale was going to do… but he can feel it. The feeling his father had talked about during their own training sessions, what Saiyans are supposed to feel when fighting.

Excitement.

Kale was feeling it too. It had been a while since she fought anyone beside Caulifla… and Cabba… so this was exciting for her as well.

However, Broly decided to change tactics. He charged at Kale with incredible speed, catching her with his massive hand. He crashed into a mountain, aiming to pulverize her. Instead, Kale only spat out some dust.

"That isn't going to work."

She grabbed him with both arms, and suplexed him to the ground. He in turn grabbed her leg and threw her to the ground as well. Kale was only momentarily knocked down before jumping high into the air, preparing a huge energy blast in the process.

"Take this!" She shouted. "HAAAAAAAH~!"

Broly witnessed the blast coming at him. It hit him just as he crossed his arms in defense. The resulting collision caused a massive explosion. Smoke covered the area where Broly stood.

"Whoah, that blast was powerful!" Goku said. "How much stronger did she get?"

"Plenty. Kale's gotten practice." Caulifla proudly. "I made sure of that."

Cheelai looked concerned. "Broly…"

As the smoke settled, it can be seen that Broly was still standing. He was covered in dust and there was some damage… but he was fine. His eyes narrowed into focus. Then, he vanished.

He appeared right behind Kale, who didn't have the time to block him as he punched her from behind. He vanished again, then kneeling her in the stomach, and bringing both fists down upon her.

Kale was knocked around the air, but she wasn't giving up. As soon as Broly made another dash towards, she punched him in the face again. Another flurry of punches and kicks ensued between the two fighters.

"You're small… but strong…" Broly said. "You're amazing."

"Thank you…" Kale said. "I trained hard to get like this. You're pretty strong too."

Broly wasn't sure about that. Even he could feel the energy flowing from Kale, how quick it poured and how vast it seemed. Funnily, she noticed the same about him.

Neither dominated for a long while, keeping each other on an even keel. Their auras, sickly green in color, were growing at an alarming rate. Any minute their limits would be broken, and they would be pushed beyond them.

Kale had noticed a change in Broly's eyes. Instead of the gentle ones she had seen before, they were amber bright, and angrier. There was also a trim underneath his eyes. A naked savagery that had begun to surface during their fight.

"Grrrrr…" He started growling. "C-crush…"

She had recognized it before the moment she realized what it was. The look in his eyes… he was tapping into that power.

"What's wrong Broly?"

He screamed. Whether from pain or something else, his aura sent shockwaves that pushed Kale away from him. She reorientated herself to see Broly had been powering up. He had changed. Ready to attack.

"HRAAAAAAGGGGHHHH!"

"What was that?!" Cheelai yelled. "He's changed!"

"It's the same power he had on Earth." Goku said. "I can go stop him-"

"Don't!"

Goku and Cheelai looked over to Caulifla, who had her arms crossed.

"An overgrown whiny baby ain't enough to take down Kale." She said. "I won't allow anyone to interfere in this fight."

Up in the air, Kale was proving her declaration correct. She blocked Broly's punches with ease. Even with his increase in power, his anger was the problem. He was trying to demolish her, with no thought or strategy. He was relying on pure instinct. That might be not be a problem when fighting people weaker than himself. However, Kale was more than a match for him.

Unknown to her, a trim appeared under her own eyes. Her black eyes had turn amber, as Broly's had. The same power flowed through her. She caught both of Broly's fists in her hands, and they stared each other down. Broly growled in visible anger yet Kale kept herself in check.

"Give up. Now."

With her might, Kale flew Broly to the ground. The crash created a rather large crater. Rather than devastating both fighters, however, only Broly was up. He held Kale by her hair, her body hanging seemingly limply in his grasp.

"GrrrrRRRRRRRRR…"

He started punching her. Repeatedly. He was savagely beating her just for the sheer pleasure of it. This enemy, the one who dared to challenge him? She needed to be gone.

Yet she lives. In pain, she lives.

"RAARRGGGHHH… NO… no…"

Wait. This wasn't right.

"GRAAAAAAAGGGHHHHH!"

Broly collapsed to his knees. He let go of Kale, clutching his head with both hands. He screamed. These thoughts were unnatural, antithetical to his very being. It was these thoughts that led to-

He had to get away from there. From this woman, from everyone.

Kale watched Broly go. She could see he had returned to his proper senses, having shone remorse for his deed.

Caulifla and Goku landed next to her.

"Hey what happened?" Goku asked. "Want me to go after him?"

"Where'd he go?" Caulifla punched her fist. "That no good show off, running away when he had a fight. Let me at him!"

Kale held a hand towards them both. Caulifla looked at her confused, especially when her protege looked back in the same amber eyes before she wrecked everyone at the Tournament.

"Stay out of this. This is between me and him. I will solve this."

With that, she flew off in search of the giant. Her master and friend, Caulifla, looked at her amazed. She had grown so much…

"Kale… good luck."

_______________________________________________________________________

Kale had found her opponent distraught.

He was sitting in a fetal position next to some rocks. Kale landed next to him. She remembered being in a similar position once a time ago. Maybe…

"You were scared before…" She said. "Is there something wrong?"

Broly did not respond immediately. He let sobs escapes his lips, keeping his eyes locked downwards.

"…I lost control…"

Kale tilted her head. "This had happened before?"

"…"

"…"

"It's okay if you don't want to talk."

"…"

"…"

"…"

"…"

"… my father…"

"Yes?"

"My father… he was…" Broly let out a sigh. "I lost control. On the blue planet. There was white everywhere…"

"White?" Kale asked. "Ah, you mean the ice? My Earth had places like that too when we visited it."

"Yes. I don't remember a lot of it, but… I was fighting. Kakarot. And that other man. During the fight I was getting angrier and angrier, stronger… and then my father was-"

He choked, putting both hands to his face. Kale narrowed her eyes.

"Your father was… what?"

"Dead. Something had killed him. An energy blast from my fight. He was dead and it was all my fault. Because I lost control." He weeped. "Me and Dad grew up on this planet. He spent his whole life trying to teach me control. He put a shock collar on me so I could control it. But I failed and he's dead. I gained so many friends here. Cheelai, Lampo… even Kakarot. I don't want to hurt anyone. I don't want to lose anyone. Not again."

His tears came harder. "Not ever… again…"

There was no more talk for a good long while. Kale allowed Broly to grieve. The memory of his father was still lodged within his mind. He deserved that much respect.

"… I lost my parents when I was young."

Broly looked up at her.

"Growing up, I had always been an orphan. Wandering from place to place, scrounging up whatever I could… I truly thought I was worthless after a long time. Then I met Caulifla. She took me in when no one could, helped me when no one did, she… she taught me how to be strong. She saved me all those years ago. I'll always love her for that."

Kale looked up at the sky serenely. The trims underneath her eyes had returned.

"I was too enamored at first. I had this image of Caulifla in my head that she was invincible. So I tried aid her covertly in fights. To keep this image of strength alive. But Caulifla was smart. She found me out right away. Threatened to pound me if I tried it again. I was scared for a long time that I would lose her if I displeased her in some way. If she found someone else. I even became jealous and hurt when Cabba arrived to recruit her for the Tournament of Power. But I was wrong. She stayed to help me."

Her aura grew bigger. Soon the ground started shaking at her feet, which disturbed Broly. Her hair had turned blond, with green eyes. He knew what it was already. The unmistakable power of a Super Saiyan.

"Recently I had been in a Tournament. I had to fight alongside Caulifla… and Cabba I suppose… we had to work as a team if we wanted a chance to win. Caulifla had been fighting Goku while I stood on the side lines. I had wanted to get stronger then. So I did. I learned to tap into my anger and focus it into something productive. To access a power… beyond what I have now!"

Her hands clenched into fists, sparks radiating around her.

"HRRRRRRAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAGGGHHHHH!"

Suddenly, the aura rose into the heavens, thunder and lighting cracking under the sheer enormous power radiating from Kale. Broly looked at her, both scared and amazed at the sight before him, what he was sensing.

The girl grew in stature. Her muscles morphed and expanded, Kale still screaming as her hair flew upwards, turning from black, to gold to the sickly green color that her aura possessed. her pupils turned into a translucent white, indicating a crazed manic.

Yet… her pupils could still be seen. Bright green now, in contrast to the black ones she had before.

Kale had stopped herself. The clouds began to dissipate around them, her power contained by sheer discipline.

There she stood. The Legendary Super Saiyan.

"If what Goku told me was true, you have this power too." Kale said. "It can be addicting at first. I lost control the first time, same as you did. But you can control it. I managed it, not by shrinking away from it, but by embracing it. I think of the friends I had made and how I can help them."

Broly was stunned at what he was seeing. The embodiment of his worst nightmares, the monster had been on Earth, the one that slaughtered his father… and yet, there she stood. In control. Could he…?

"Try it. I'll stop you if you go too far."

Silently, he nodded. Kale showed him a possibility he hadn't considered. Maybe this was a path he could take.

Broly focused on his mind. He remembered the pain and isolation he had felt for years on this planet. The shock collar that his father gave him to contain his power. His point proven correct when he had perished on Earth.

But he also thought of Cheelai.

Her, Lemo, Goku, these new friends that he had made. The bonds he shared with them, the bonds he wanted to make with Kale and Caulifla…

Before he even knew it, Broly felt his power rising fast. One shot was all he had. He trusted Kale and Kakarot to stop him so he let it in.

'FATHER! WHY DID YOU LEAVE?! WHY DID YOU KEEP ME LOCKED AWAY ON THIS PLANET ONLY TO DIE?! I HATE YOU!'

The anger came first. His hate and bitterness, the things he kept away had to come to the surface first. The primal roar of the Great Ape swelled up inside of Broly.

'Cheelai… I have to stay strong… for my friends!'

Then came serenity.

When Broly opened his eyes, they shone bright green. He had not lost control. He was still here, with Kale right across him.

"I… I did it!"

The tears were not of sadness anymore. Instead they were of joy. The power was his now. With enough practice, he could control it again.

Another Legendary Saiyan had emerged. Strong and more importantly, proud.

"Thank you, Kale."

Kale smiled. This was the first time she helped someone without Caulifla. She had done it as well.

"That's great Broly." She said, energy blast forming in her hand. "Now… shall we resume?"

Broly smiled back. He no longer feared the power inside of him. He was ready.

"Yes."

_______________________________________________________________________

Hours after the battle, Goku and Caulifla had flown to the crater. Cheelai had been hitching a ride on Goku's back.

The trio had to scratch their heads upon seeing their friends lying on the ground, heavily injured, scratches all over their bodies… still breathing, with these massive smiles on their faces.

"Kale!" Caulifla yelled, rushing over to Kale. "You're not too badly injured are you?"

She coughed some dust, but raised her hand in a thumbs up.

"Broly!" Cheelai jumped off from Goku, also running toward her Saiyan. "Are you okay?"

For the first time she had seen, Broly had been smiling brightly. Excitedly even.

"I had fun."

Cheelai smiled. "That's grand."

Whis and Vados had also floated next to them, looking slightly bemused.

"Ah, you Saiyans just keep beating each other up to the brink of death." Whis said. "Let me fix that."

With a wave of his staff, Kale and Broly had instantly recovered from their injuries. Caulifla hugged Kale close to her, while Cheelai grabbed Broly's arm and brought him up.

"I believe it is time we returned to our universe, Caulifla, Kale." Vados said. "Our time span is up."

"Ohh really?" Caulifla whined. "I wanted to have a shot at big dumb muscle over here! The power was intense!"

As she proceeded to get into an argument with Vados, Kale just chuckled at the sight. That was Caulifla, always itching for a fight. She wondered if Caulifla would pick on Cabba again when they got back. Kale hoped it would happen. She was looking for target practice.

"Kale."

She turned around, seeing Broly smiling at her. Cheelai looked at Broly confused.

"I'm glad you came. I hope we can fight again."

Kale smiled back. Caulifla narrowed her eyes in something resembling jealousy as her protégé raised her hand in a thumbs up.

"I hope so too…" Kale said. "Broly."

Author's Notes:

I hope you enjoyed this fic! First Dragon Ball story. I wanted to write it because I thought it would be cool to see how Broly and Kale would meet. Maybe we might get that in Super Season 2 or whatever they're gonna call it? It'd be nice.

With Kale, I decided to go with a mix of her manga and anime backstories to add more to her characterization. Also retconned a bit of how she worked to bring her more in line with the Broly's movie depiction of the Legendary Super Saiyan transformation.

Have fun!

[therainroguefanfiction]

☁ Drifting Away (Giotto) #06

📑 Table of Contents | ◂Previous

━━━━━━༻🌧️༺━━━━━━

☁ Protectors ✗ Future ✗ Threat ☁

“My name is Rorian and I’m the boss of the Gardiano Famiglia,” Byakudera, now known as Rorian, said as he stared at you, one leg crossed over the other and his arms folded over his chest. “And we need your help.”

“I’m Salmon, the lightning guardian.” Red pushed his glasses up with his index finger, smiling shyly at you. “I’m the protector of the first generation lightning guardian, Lampo.”

“Protector?” you blinked in confusion.

“Allow me to explain,” Salmon picked up the laptop and moved to sit beside you, the laptop on his legs. He tapped a few keys and the screen lit up. “You see, we’re from the future, too. Beyond your time period, though; we’re from ten years after your time. We borrowed Shouichi Irie’s technology to come here.”

“You know Shouichi?” Of all the questions plaguing your mind at that moment, that would be the one that you asked. You nearly facepalmed.

“T-That’s right,” he muttered, rubbing the back of his head as his cheeks flushed. “He’s my older cousin.”

“Should have known,” you muttered under your breath, glancing off to the side.

Rorian cleared his throat, glaring at the both of you. “Small details are unimportant. Get back on topic.”

“R-Right. You remember Kikyo, one of the real six funeral wreaths?” You nodded and he continued. “He was angry about Byakuran being defeated and even more angry that he had been kept alive by the Varia’s sun guardian. He used Shouichi’s technology to come to this point on the timeline. He plans to use his power to completely annihilate the Vongola. We are here to make sure that doesn’t happen.”

“Kikyo has to be stopped but he mustn’t be killed. We have to take him back to the future alive or it could disrupt the flow of time indefinitely. You won’t be able to return home until this matter is resolved,” Rorian stood and walked to the side of the room, behind the couch you sat on and poured himself a cup of coffee.

Two questions entered your mind, glowing brighter than the rest. “Oi, Rorian. Can I ask you something?”

He raised an eyebrow as he sat back down. You took his silence as a confirmation to continue.

“Can I call you Rory? And are you somehow related to Byakuran or Gokudera?”

His eye twitched. “No. You may not call me Rory.”

“Dude, you totally just avoided my second question,” you stared at him blankly. “I am so~ calling you Rory-chan now.”

His reddish purple eyes closed in an attempt to keep his annoyance level under control.

“He’s Byakuran’s little brother,” Salmon answered, typing away on his laptop. He froze, however, at the killer intent rolling off of his boss and the evil glare he was now receiving. He gulped. “Y-Y/N needs to know everything. Sylvian agrees with me!”

“I don’t give a damn if the queen of England agrees with you. I am the boss and what I say goes.”

“But, boss – !”

“Why’s it matter?” You interrupted, looking at the male curiously. “It’s the little details that make the big picture clear, ya know.”

Rorian sighed, closing his eyes and rubbing his forehead as if he had a bad headache. It was obvious he had no intention of answering the question.

“That’s an easy one,” A man appeared in the doorway, walking over and sitting next to Rorian. His hair was a spikey silver, tied back in a low ponytail that stopped mid-back, and his eyes were a bright emerald green. “Rory believed that you wouldn’t want to help if you knew that he and the devil-bitch were related. We need your help and we can’t afford to lose you.”

You snickered at his word choice. ‘Oh yeah, we are going to be good friends,’ “Clearly, he’s not a bad person, he just has an attitude problem. And he doesn’t seem too happy about Byakuran’s decisions or Kikyo’s plan. I feel… I feel like I can trust him. And both of you, too.”

“Oh?” The unnamed male stood and moved over to stand in front of you, arms crossed and eyes searching. He stood that way for several minutes like he was reading a book before his lips pulled up into a smile. “Your instincts are pretty good,” he held out a ringed hand. “My name is Sylvian, Cloud guardian and protector of Alaude.”

“Fun,” you grinned, sliding your hand into his own. He chuckled in response, taking a seat on the other side of you. “I have a question, though. Why me?” The three men looked at you and you clarified, “I don’t mind. I think it’s pretty cool to meet the first-gen in person. I just don’t understand why I was chosen to help you all stop Kikyo. I mean, Tsuna’s stronger than I am plus he’s the boss. Why didn’t you pick him?”

“Although Sawada Tsunayoshi is very strong, he’s not the one to save the first-generation family. Only the bearer of the fire ring can save them.”

The four of you turned towards the door and your eyes widened. The man that stood there, his dark red orbs trained on you, his hair the same as Zakuro’s. He resembled him, too, but he looked older, more mature, and laid back. The man stepped forward, his eyes never leaving your form.

“The fire guardians, the ones that no one knows about. We are the strongest of them all, second only to the boss,” his ruby-red eyes glanced at Rorian before returning to you.

“So you’re the fire guardian?” you questioned, moving to stand in front of him. He towered over you, at least six-foot-three.

He nodded. “I was the fire guardian for the Millefiore originally. My younger brother was also a real funeral wreath, but that bastard betrayed him and now he’s dead,” he paused. “Don’t get me wrong. I’m not in this for revenge. I always thought what Byakuran did was wrong, but I bit my tongue and stayed with the Millefiore in order to watch over my brother, but I refused to fight for them. When I found out my brother had been killed, I left.”

“Zakun was the one who informed us of Kikyo’s plan,” Sylvian said, resting his cheek in the palm of his hand. “Kikyo attempted to get Zakun to join, but he refused and came to us. The fire rings are very picky, which is why several generations of the ring were skipped. So many people tried to bare the ring, but it refused them every time. Like a spoiled child,” he muttered the last part under his breath, but you all heard it.

“When the young tenth generation Vongola went to the future to stop Byakuran with the power of the Vongola rings – ” Zakun paused, walking over to sit on the same couch as Rorian, ” – everything began to change. When your boss defeated Byakuran. When Yuni gave her life to revive the fallen Arcobaleno. All of this changed the future. Everyone that had been killed and all of the destruction caused by Byakuran was reversed. This included bringing my brother back to life, but his memories of the event have been removed. Since Kikyo was left alive, his memories weren’t tampered with.”

“Our goal is to make sure history doesn’t repeat itself. If Kikyo succeeds, the world is doomed. It’s our job to protect the first-generation family. And yours, as well. Only the fire guardians are strong enough to support us,” Rorian sipped his coffee, “We have yet to find the third.”

“The third?” you questioned, sitting back down between Sylvian and Salmon.

“That’s correct. We have the fire guardian for the Millefiore and Gardiano Family; Zakun. And the tenth generation Vongola fire guardian; You. But we still need the first generation Vongola fire guardian.” Salmon explained, pulling up the chart for the rings on his computer.

“I didn’t think there was one.”

“There isn’t.”

“Then how…?”

“Giotto already had his core family when he first formed the Vongola. The fire guardian wasn’t necessary. However, now he is. It’s your job to take the fire ring from the Primo and find its rightful owner,” Rorian told you, his expression dead serious.

“Woah, hold on a damn minute,” you shot up, glaring at the white-haired male. “You want me to steal the fire ring? You’re nuts!”

“It’s necessary.”

“They’re already suspicious of me. If I do this and get caught, I’ll never gain their trust!”

“Would you rather explain the situation?” he questioned, eyes narrowed in annoyance as his voice dripped with sarcasm. “I’m sure he’ll believe you.”

“You little…”

“Well, I’ll be taking you back now,” Sylvian announced, grabbing your arm and pulling you toward the door you had entered in at. Your cries of protest were ignored as he roughly pulled you through the winding hallways. Sylvian kept quiet until the pair of you had exited the house and made your way out onto the street. “I knew the two of you were going to clash.”

“I can’t do this,” you muttered, staring at the pale hand clasped around your wrist. The last thing you wanted was for the Primo to hate you or to find that he can’t trust you. And stealing from him? You just couldn’t.

“I understand that,” he sighed, turning around and placing his hands on your shoulders. His eyes looked sympathetic as they bore into your own. “I understand your feelings, I do, but you have to make a decision. You can choose not to take the ring and the chance of the Primo being murdered will increase. Or you can take the ring, risk him no longer trusting you, but save his life, not to mention the lives of your own family.”

You bit your lip and looked at the ground. When he put it that way, it made your decision pretty clear.

“Oh, and what do we have here?”

Both of you looked up towards the voice and you scowled. Of all the times for him to appear, it had to be now.

Daemon Spade stood there, a smirk on his lips as his blue orbs darted back and forth between the two of you. “You found a friend? How sweet.”

“Che,” you glared at him before returning to Sylvian, who looked indifferent to the whole situation. “Thank you for everything. And I’ll think it over, I promise.” You sent him a small smile before heading towards Spade.

He chuckled as you passed but said nothing, turning around to follow after you. He picked up his pace so that he was walking in front of you; you had no clue where you were going, after all. Everything you had been told weighed on your mind. You felt relieved that you knew why you had been brought here and that you did have a chance of returning to your own era, but the weight of the new information took its place, weighing even heavier than the first. You had some serious thinking to do.

♠ Namimori, Japan – Future ♠

Tsuna sat in his classroom, his chin resting in the palm of his hand. Class was in session, but he wasn’t paying attention to anything the teacher was saying. He was too worried to concentrate. You had been gone for a while now, which wasn’t exactly abnormal, but you usually at least called or texted him when you were gone for an extended period of time.

It was also rare for you not to tell him that you were going away for a while.

He was extremely worried. What if you had been kidnapped? The possibility was unlikely. You could have easily fought off anyone who attempted it. What if you were hurt? You never let that stop you before. What else was left? You could have been lost since your sense of direction wasn’t the greatest, but you would have called had that been the case. There was no other option left. It was almost as if you had vanished from the face of the Earth.

The situation had an eerie feeling to it, and he didn’t like that. Not one bit.

Tsuna sighed as he entered his home, kicking his shoes off before climbing the stairs. When he entered his bedroom, he was surprised at the sight before him. Reborn was sitting on his desk, drinking a cup of coffee. Lambo was beside him, tied up and hanging from the ceiling. He was crying and calling out threats towards Reborn, who simply ignored him.

“R-Reborn!” Tsuna ran over, dropping his bag onto the floor. Before he could touch Lambo, Reborn cocked his gun and aimed it at him.

“Don’t touch him,” Reborn lowered his gun and it returned to its original form as Leon. “Lambo is the reason Y/N is missing.”

“Eh?” he blinked, “What are you talking about, Reborn? What could he possibly have to do with this?”

“I did some digging and found out what happened five days ago. Y/N was over there sleeping while you were at school. He hit them with the 10-Year-Bazooka while they were sleeping.”

“Is it malfunctioning again?”

“No, I don’t believe so.”

“Don’t tell me…” Tsuna grabbed his hair, a high pitched hiiie~ leaving his throat. “A repeat of the future incident?!”

“It’s possible, but something feels off about this,” Reborn pulled his fedora down over to cover his dark pools of knowledge. “The 10-Year-Bazooka is gone and only Y/N was taken.”

“W-What do we do?”

“There’s nothing we can do,” Reborn jumped off the table and headed towards the door. “We can only wait.”

━━━━━━༻🌧️༺━━━━━━

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[cielofics]

(Old) ICMSAR XIX

WARNING(S): OCC's, Parent!bashing, depressing!thoughts, suicidal!tendencies,

NOTES: "Japanese" "Italian" Thinking 'Tsuna's eye speak' [Text Messages]

DISCLAIMER: I do not own Katekyo Hitman Reborn. Amano Akira does

Everyone was waiting outside, feeling tense. Ryohei and Shamal had come for a while to check up on the brunet when he suddenly started convulsing.

Nobody was allowed to stay in the room besides the two.

"Say, it's been a while since Shamal and Ryohei are in there," Yamamoto pointed out. For once there was no smile on any of them; not even Mukuro had his creepy smile on. It showed how serious the situation was if Yamamoto did not have his carefree smiles.

Gokudera looked at Yamamoto before he said, "Jyuudaime will be fine. He always has been."

Chrome nodded, "Sun-man is there too. He knows Bossu well." Yamamoto looked at them for a bit before relaxing a bit and saying, "You're right. I should trust sempai."

Bang!

Everyone jumped at the sound of the door opening with a bang. There stood Shamal looking weary and tired; Ryohei not too far behind them, looking mad at something.

For some reason, everyone knew that what they were about to hear wasn't something they would want to.

Shamal came and paused in front of them. He looked at them before he sighs, "Listen up, no matter how much you threaten me, it won't work anymore."

Silence~

"W-What do you mean?" Lambo asked with wide eyes

"The poison... it's moving too fast for us to create and make the antidote on time," Shamal says very slowly.

XX..XX

[With Ienari]

Ienari, for once, woke up without the help of cold water, defibrillators or explosions.

Confused, he looked towards the hammock Reborn usually slept in. Even if it was Saturday, the baby would usually wake him up for an early training. Smirking, Ienari tried to get off the bed, keyword tried.  

As soon as he stood, he heard the sound of a rope being snapped into two. Turning towards the sound, he noticed some kind of rope

.

.

.

leading to his ceiling. Gulping, Ienari took a hesitant glance towards the ceiling that probably had something he didn't want to see.

Slowly, he let his eyes trail up to the most probably stupid yet deadly trap ever when he noticed a f****** piano hanging very loosely - and oh d*** did I just hear that squeak?

That day, a very loud "REBOOOORN!" was heard throughout Namimori

XX..XX

[With the former 10th Generation]

A pin drop silence could be heard throughout the hallway that was accommodating the former guardians and tutor of Sawada Tsunayoshi.

"Y-you're lying, a-aren't you?" asked Yamamoto after a while. When he received a silence from the doctor clad in white, he turned to Ryohei. "S-Senpai, please tell me this is a p-prank and that T-Tsuna w-will be..."

Yamamoto trailed off after seeing the grim look in his eyes. Everyone couldn't believe what they were hearing. No, they just couldn't accept what they were hearing. They would loose their sky? Again?

No longer able to take the turn of events, Lambo did something that he hadn't done in a long long time. He took out his 10 year Bazooka.

Poof!

Pink smoke filled the hallway as the former guardians and tutor stood there trying to see through the smoke.

"Yare, yare, why did my younger self call me no...." TYL Lambo trailed off as he took in the condition of the guardians. They weren't themselves and neither was Reborn.

For a minute, they only stared at each other before Lambo asks, "...So, what happened?"

Whether it was because the guardians and the tutor weren't on top shape or they were badly affected, they took a whole minutes to snap out of the stupor.

"The Cure!" Reborn exclaimed finally. "the cure for the poison!"

Surprised, Lambo reels back, "Huh?"

This time, Hibari snapped, "The cure for the poison that herbivorous herbivore gave to the omnivore!"

Understanding, then dawned quickly on the grown up child, "Use your sun flames continuously to slow down the process. It will slow it down but very minimally. Also, call the Primo Generation, only they can-"

Poof!

Everybody remained silent as they stared at where TYL Lambo stood. Now, there was a crying child instead who after a while said, "H-He's a-alive...."

And that quickly brought the guardians to think about what TYL Lambo said.

"How do we call the Primo Generation? We don't have any way to con-"

Yamamoto cuts Gokudera off before he could dig his grave deeper as there was a very confused doctor standing there. "Reborn? What should we do? And what is the Primo generation? " He stared at the understanding dawn on the bomber as he eyed towards the doctor discretely

Reborn's fedora was tilted dangerously as he glanced at the doctor standing there with confused eyes. "Shamal?"

"What is it?" The doctor asked raising his eyebrows.

"What are you waiting here for?"

"Huh?"

"Get moving and use those d*** sun flames of yours to slow down the process!"

"H-hai!"

With the doctor out of the way, he stared at the remaining people left, "let's talk get a room and talk."

XX..XX

"What did TYL Lambo mean by 'calling the Primo Generations?' It's not like we can just bring them out," Gokudera said once they had gotten a secure room.

"Plus, we don't even have the Vongola Rings. Only our Vongola Gears," Mukuro said without his signature laugh.

Everyone stared at each other for a while before collectively sighing. (Except Reborn, he's too cool for that.)

"And the Primo Generation only comes out when they want to," Chrome said timidly while Yamamoto, Gokudera and Lambo nodded.

"But they came," Ryohei started seriously, "when we got our memories. In fact, they were there for everyone of us."

"We never asked them to; they just popped up whenever they want to," Chrome retorted.

Everyone settled in a tense silence when Hibari asked, "Hn, baby-carnivore?" (Can't you get the rings somehow?)

Sighing noticeably, Reborn said, "No, I can't. Besides, even if though I said that one of Cielo Nascosto's condition was for Tsuna to become a candidate, he never wrote it to Nono."

Gokudera frowned, "What did Vongola Nono reply with so far?"

"Nothing. He hasn't replied yet and it's been 3 days already. He did, however, call me and say that he is planning on meeting Cielo Nascosto in a few days and talk about the conditions. But it will take a while for him to get here."

Mukuro frowned, "And why is that, baby?"

"For some odd reason, Xanxus has been quite... tame lately. Nobody knows why but to Nono, it looks like it's some kind of a plan to trick him into false security. Besides, this is a parallel world too. Just because we have our parallel selves memories doesn't means everything is the same," Reborn said, looking at every single one of them in their eyes.

"Like Tsuna having an abusive brother?" Lambo asked.

"Exactly," Reborn responded, pushing his fedora downwards to cover their eyes. Once again, everyone remained silent before Lambo childishly exclaimed, "Ugh! Why can't Lampo be here when we need him?"

-Need me for what?- a sleepy-sounded voice resounded in the aftermath silence.

Startled, Lambo fell on his butt with a surprised yelp.

"What the heck?!" Lambo said with shocked eyes. But he was not the only one shocked, everyone was. "W-why are you here?!" he asked with pointing fingers at the faint ghost standing right in front of him.

Yawning, Lampo said, "Well, you called, didn't you?"

.

.

.

"Eh?"

XX..XX

Shamal stared at the heavily breathing boy in front of him. Apparently, what the future Lambo had said was working but very slowly.

His heart clenched when he heard another whimper come from the brunet. He had been doing this for the past 15 minutes and though the poison did seem to stop spreading as quickly as it did before; more sun flame users very needed.

It would take me time to run out of stamina but we will need more sun users soon, he thought

He was wondering something else too. Something that happened not too long ago. Do those kids know about the Vongola? If so, how? Hayato, I can understand along with that creepy ex-convict and the snotty brat but what about the rest?

While Shamal was busy contemplating things, he failed to notice the soft glow coming from a necklace underneath Tsuna's shirt.

XX..XX

Everyone (yes Reborn included) was staring at the ghost-like figure in front of them.

Snapping out of his thoughts faster, (because it will be a shame if the world's greatest hitman cannot control himself) Reborn called out, "What do you mean by that?"

-It's exactly like Lampo said; you called us, right?- Asari asked, appearing next to Lampo. One by one, the rest of the Primo Generation except Primo himself appeared and stood in front of them.

"Kufufu, you don't just appear out of nowhere by just us calling," Mukuro said after a minute.

[ciaossu-imagines]

Of course, anon dear! Thank you for your request and I hope you’ll enjoy!

Giotto would be a daffodil, which symbolizes regard, chivalry, rebirth, new beginnings, and eternal life. As a man, Giotto is chivalrous and well-regarded, since he tries to live a good life and be good to others. As a Vongola boss, Giotto was the new beginning. He saw what needed to be done and did it, started the family and made it solid and stable. His Vongola family died but was reborn as Ricardo’s Vongola family and so on and so on - the Vongola is eternal, as much as anything can be.

G. would be a daisy. Daisies symbolize loyal love, which is sort of G.’s shtick. He loves Giotto and his fellow Guardians dearly, though he does not always do his best at showing it...the intense loyalty towards Giotto and the Vongola is really his way of showing it, his faithfulness to them the result of his caring so much for them. Daisies also symbolize ‘I’ll never tell’, a lovely little throwaway to G’s position as Giotto’s right-hand man and best friend, the keeper of his secrets.

Asari would be an iris, symbolizing eloquence but particularly a purple iris. Purple irises symbolize wisdom and compliments. Asari is an eloquent man, gifted at conversation and social aspects with a love of making people happy - he gives compliments freely but sincerely. He’s wise too, never rushing a judgment and taking pains to consider all sides of a thing.

Knuckle would be hyssop. This plant, in Catholic tradition, is used to symbolize penitence and humility and, due to its purgative nature, can also be used to symbolize innocence gained and baptism. It fits really well with Knuckle’s general religious theme as a priest but also his character - he’s seeking to atone for his past actions and that’s what led him to the church. 

Lampo would be a larkspur. Larkspurs symbolize levity, lightness, fickleness and haughtiness. Lampo has an attitude at times as being above others but his personality is also very airy, sometimes lacking substance. He’s changeable in his whims, rarely serious and earnest in nature, wishing to just be able to go and do as he wishes.

Alaude would be lavender, symbolizing admiration, solitude and beauty. A strong man and, once he grows and learns, a fair man, Alaude will have the admiration of many, though quite a bit of that admiration is tinged with fear. He’s a loner though and prefers his own company, finding beauty in the silence and solitude.

Daemon would be a yellow carnation, symbolizing disdain, disappointment, and rejection. He was driven so much by his rejection of Giotto’s Vongola, his disdain for the weakness he thought he saw there. However, in popular culture, carnations of any colour are still considered a romantic flower and there is romance in Daemon’s heart as well.

Tsuna would be the alstroemeria, symbolizing wealth, prosperity, and fortune. The alstroemeria is also the flower as friendship, which is the primary reason I picked this because honestly, the primary reason Tsuna does most things is because of friendship. He values his friendships so much that he would do anything for a friend, even put his own life on the line. However, despite what you might think, he has good fortune in his life - things seem to work out for him and, as the future boss of the Vongola family, he’ll be responsible for the next golden age of the Vongola family.

Gokudera would be the gladiolus, symbolizing strength of character, faithfulness, honor, and remembrance. Gokudera remembers everything from his past and, while he struggles at overcoming a lot of it emotionally, he always uses his past as a springboard, as something to push him forward and help him grow. He’s faithful to a fault, though his loyalty is not easily won. His strong personality and sense of pride won’t just bend to anyone’s will.

Yamamoto would be the chrysanthemum, which symbolizes fidelity, optimism, joy and long life. Of course, these are all things that fit Yamamoto, who is faithful to not only his family and friends but also to his passions. He’s a happy person, someone who looks on the brighter side of things and I’ve always headcanoned him as living past most of the other Guardians (though I think Lambo will be the last surviving member of the Vongola Guardians, mostly due to his younger age).

Ryohei would be a hyacinth. Hyacinths symbolize playfulness, a sporty attitude, extreme rashness, and constancy. In short, it really is the flower version of the boxing obsessed, take life by the balls Ryohei, who always stays true to himself and lives in the way that makes him happy.

Lambo would be a purple carnation. Purple carnations symbolize capriciousness and Lambo, both as a child, a young adult and a full grown man will always be a little capricious, a little impulsive and prone to doing things on whatever whim enters his head. 

Hibari would also be lavender, for many of the same reasons as Alaude. The two are incredibly similar, though Hibari will most show these traits as a grown-up, once he has matured a bit! (Sorry, anon dear, I tried my best not to repeat flowers but couldn’t quite succeed!)

Mukuro would be a carmine rose, symbolizing deceitful desire. Mukuro desires many things, not only for himself but for those few people he cares about and he’s going to use every means he can to get them. He’s deceitful in word and action, using that to his advantage whenever possible.

Chrome would be the anemone. It can symbolize fading hope and the feeling of being forsaken, which ties in wonderfully with Chrome’s past as Nagi. However, on a more positive note, it symbolizes anticipation. Chrome has this new life because of Mukuro. He gives her so much and she has all these new opportunities and the chance at a new life, with a new family, because of him. She anticipates the future now, wants to find out what’s ahead for her, for him, for Ken and Chikusa - she can’t wait to live her life beside them. 

[onceabluemoonwrites]

Hallelujah - Chapter 4: The Tomb (Complete)

Summary: ‘’There is blood on Giotto’s hands; The type you can’t scrub off.

The first had gone down with a thud. The second with a howl. He didn’t keep count after the third. Giotto hates himself; The ease with which he ended lives makes him sick to his stomach.

(He had been in a haze while killing, but he’s certain: He intended to do it)’’

Giotto’s life: A tale of loss, love, religion, betrayal and learning to love yourself.

Disclaimer: I don’t own Katekyo Hitman Reborn.

FF.net | AO3 | Tumblr: 1, 2, 3, 4

My fic master list here.

“Easy is the descent into hell, for the door to the underworld lies open both day and night. But to retrace the path; to come out again to the sweet air of heaven – there is the task, there is the burden.”

-Virgil, the aenid

Chapter 4: The Tomb

The dining hall is dark when Giotto comes home. Lightning flashes through the sky, rain splashing down against the huge windows. His footsteps are wet, tracking mud from his long ride home onto the spotless floors. Raising the candle holder, he can barely see a foot in front of him, the dancing flame fickle.

It is the second lightning flash that illuminates the room for a single second- just enough to see a stark silhouette at the head of the dinner table on the other side of the room. ‘’Daemon.’’

It is utterly silent as he approaches, only the drip-drip-drip of his clothing and his shallow breathing, footsteps fading away with each careful step forward.

Daemon does not move.

He just sits, there in the light of the candle. Giotto gasps at the sight of him, breath stuttering. Daemon’s hair is long, ragged and loose, gone the clean-cut up do it normally is tucked away in. He sits, staring into the flame of the candle. He sits, eyes unseeing, as single dull dinner knife clutched in his fist. An empty plate is in front of him, silverware glinting in the capricious light.

The hall is empty, but for them, but the table is decked for eight- no, nine, Giotto realizes with an ache in his heart. For all the guardians, Ricardo and Elena.

It hurts. His eyes brim with tears and he cannot help but move to embrace his friend, who is stiff as a wooden plank, muscles tense. ‘’Oh, Daemon.’’

Daemon, for a single moment, melts into him, burying his nose in his neck. ‘’On the right side, it’s Lampo, Ricardo next to him, Asari, G. You at the head. On the left, Knuckle, Alaude, Elena and I. That’s… That’s how it’s supposed to be. Where are they, Giotto? They’re late for dinner.’’

Giotto sobs, closing his eyes, tightening his arms around him. ‘’Daemon-‘’

And he must heave through. Must remember that Lampo and Ricardo aren’t just fooling around on their horses right now. That Asari is not laughing behind his fan as Knuckle goes for a spar with G. That Alaude is not being forced into relaxing for once because Elena dictated it so. Because Elena isn’t coming back.

Not ever.

…But he must ask nonetheless. ‘’Daemon, why did you do it? Why… Why Cozart?’’ Because even now, he cannot ask why Daemon killed Cozart when he did not. That Cozart is still alive must remain a secret for as long as he lives, perhaps even beyond then, but Giotto cannot lie to this wreck of a man, this insane shadow of the great man his friend used to be.

So the question is: Why Cozart? Why this betrayal?

Daemon jolts like a startled mouse. ‘’Co…zart?’’ it comes out dazed, like he’s not entirely there. ‘’Cozart?’’

Daemon’s muscles tighten, and Giotto braces himself, for he can feel the wave of anger building, but cannot do a thing to stop it.

‘’He made you weak!’’ With one enormous heave, Daemon throws Giotto off him. His body smacks against the wall, head rebounding sharply as if his neck is about to snap.

‘’He made you weak, and your weakness killed Elena!’’ Daemon’s eyes are bulging out, his chest heaving, out of breath. He’s raving like a madman, frothing at the mouth.

For a second, all Giotto can see is the painting of God throwing Lucifer down.

Then it melts away to his friend, whose eyes have sunken into his face, whose lips have torn from the taut stretch that went beyond their capability during his screams. Whose heart has been broken, his soul a brittle thing in his chest, little more than a glass bauble about to fall off the table.

This is not about Giotto. This is not about what he wants. This is about Daemon, his grief, and the many mistakes Giotto has made through the years.

Befriending Daemon was not one of them. Not listening to him was one, perhaps. But the past is tangled and doesn’t matter anyway because Giotto can’t change it. For years, he has been trying to rectify mistakes already made, searching for the answer to all of his failures.

In this hour, the answer finally comes to him. A mistake made cannot be unmade. Not a thousand good deeds will make up for a single misstep. The only thing it can do is give you peace of mind, and that, in the end, is all this is about.

He sits up, ribs aching, his head hurting. There is perfect clarity at this moment, and he shall not waste it. He looks up at Daemon, who towers above him, and does the only thing he can. Because love has never made him weak; No, it has given him the strength to do what he must. ‘’What can I do to make you feel better?’’

The fury, the insanity twisting Daemon’s face melts away, his hands falling down. Blinking down, unsure what to think. For a single moment, he stands straight, before he crumples, falling to his knees. Clutching Giotto’s collar, he sobs: ‘’Give me my wife back, you bastard.’’

Pressing Daemon’s head against his chest, Giotto holds on for dear life, clenching his eyes shut. He wants to engulf this man with all his being, take the sadness away from him, to let him breathe. But that’s impossible. All he can do is take a tiny portion of Daemon’s ocean of grief, right here, right now. ‘’I’m sorry. But I can’t.’’

The wet patch on his shirt feels cold when Daemon pulls back, revealing his swollen eyes, red face and runny nose. There is a bitter twist around his mouth. ‘’Where are your miracles now, Giotto?’’

With a deep breath, Giotto speaks the truth. To God, to the world, but most importantly, to Daemon. ‘’I never had any.’’

He is no angel, no son of god, no divine blood graces his veins. Giotto is but a mortal man, and he cannot resurrect those who have ascended to heaven.

He is but a mortal man. It is only now that everyone else notices.

In the end, Daemon asks him to go. To leave the Vongola, to leave Italy, but most of all, to leave Daemon on his own. Giotto cannot deny him this. He is war-weary, and his friend’s request comes as a relief.

Daemon wants to remain in the Vongola mansion, in the space where Elena and he lived together for so many years, but he does not want to see Giotto’s face ever again.

So Giotto gets out of his way, as Asari offers up his ancestral home in Japan. With them goes Knuckle, sad to leave his chapel behind, but ready to see more of the world, and, surprisingly, Alaude. For the first time in his life, Giotto faces separation from G, because G’s wife is pregnant, and there is no way he’s leaving her. A ship is no place for a baby to be born. 

As Autumn arrives and the preparations for their journey come to an end, Giotto crowns Ricardo King among the fallen leaves. His Vongola dies with the season as Ricardo rises in Winter. He is Secondo, the man who will lead the Vongola into not a new season but a new era.

Giotto cannot help but beam in pride at his cousin, at the boy he raised with his own two hands. Not just at the baby he rocked in his arms at night, not just at the child he carried on his shoulders, not just at the teenager he laughed at and taught to dance. He beams in pride at the man Ricardo has become and knows he will be all right.

He will stand tall as a tree, rooted in his beliefs.

It’s funny. Shaman Sepira told him of an heir to his will, all the way back when she gave him the ring that now graces his cousin’s finger. This heir is not Ricardo. Giotto knows this, for Ricardo is far more ruthless than Giotto has ever been, but with that, fairer too. His way is different, and Giotto can only be glad for it. It is time for Ricardo to reign with his own will.

Someday the heir to Giotto’s Dying Will will come, but that day is not today.

Will they manage? Will they make peace without violence, will they follow God’s command in the ways no sinner like Giotto can?

Sepira… Sepira was a heathen. But so is Asari, and he shows no less kindness, faith and love for it.

Giotto does not know what waits for him in the land of the rising sun, where no man believes in one god only, but he suspects, deep inside, it will be people. Just people. Because that, at heart, is what we all are.

The harbour is loud, the seagulls crying above their heads, the crowd buzzing all around them. The sailor’s song is heard above it all, low voices reaching everywhere. The sun is bright and reflects off the surface of the water, broken by the waves. The huge ships let off steam, large clouds of it drifting up, but never quite blocking the sun, light falling through the blue, blue sky.

Salt is in the air, and Giotto breathes it in. His friends, his family, are all around him. This is a moment of beginnings and endings. A moment of contemplation.

"My greatest mistake was letting the Vongola grow out of bounds," Giotto says, gazing at the seagulls darting around in the docks, "I cannot lead those who I do not know." Knuckle throws his head back and thumps him on the back. "Ha! Thinking you can take credit for that fuck up all on your own. Life with you just keeps being the ultimate riot, Giotto!" Asari laughs softly, shutting his fan. "Indeed, I’d say that it is an admirable quality, to be able to lead through caring." It is silent for a minute. Nothing but the sound of the waves. "Think Rica will be all right?" Slinging an arm across Giotto’s shoulders, G nods. "Lampo’s with him. He’ll be fine. Rica’s made for bigger things than us." And thinking of his cousin, Giotto can’t help but agree, especially with Lampo remaining behind. His support of his best friend’s reign is incredible, and he determined to stand at Ricardo’s side come hell or high water. It’s hard to believe this is the same spoiled brat the landlord dumped on Giotto years ago.

Giotto’s parents are long dead. The only other person he’ll miss is someone he’s been missing a long time. His heart aches, when he sees red hair. But Rica will be all right; That will have to be enough.

G laughs and embraces him, clapping him on the back. ‘’Write, you fool, or I swear I’ll come after you.’’

Tightening his hold around G, Giotto laughs. ‘’A promise before the seagulls? A sign of change, if our previous encounters with this are to be believed.’’

G shakes his head, eyes shining. ‘’Nah, Gio. We change. The seagulls… They remain the same, forever.’’

A burden Giotto did not even know he was carrying falls from his shoulders, a worry laid to rest. ‘’See you where the seagulls are when all of this is over.’’

‘’See you on the other side.’’

And whether they are talking of the other side of the ocean, or perhaps in heaven or hell, it does not matter.

G and Giotto will meet again, no matter what it takes.

This is their promise, and it will never be broken.

Giotto boards the steamship. Like paper boat into a lake, the ship slides into the great ocean, leaving its motherland behind.

They follow Asari to Japan. This is what Asari has always been: a guiding star, Polaris, the one who leads those who need it the most. His kindness might not be endless, for Giotto has seen him tear men apart, but is deep. It expands with everything he does. Steel wrapped in silk- that is what Asari personifies. Going home only makes this more obvious.

Japan is a very different place than Italy, and for the very first time, Giotto truly understands what a sacrifice Asari must’ve made by journeying across the ocean.

Japan is not friendly to foreigners, and Giotto feels it deep into his bones as they arrive. They’re immensely lucky Asari is who he is, really. As a nobleman, Asari has much leeway others would certainly not have had.

He presumes the reason Asari left Japan and stayed in Italy so many years helped. The town his family resides over, Namimori, flourished from the trade Asari set up, and then defended by joining the Vongola. Loaning them his sword is seen as an honourable thing- even if the people he lent it to are seen as lesser in many ways. The town’s people are grateful for the wealth Asari brought them and grudgingly extend a fraction of that sentiment to Giotto, Knuckle and Alaude as well.

To fit in, to make the differences less obvious, they go by different names. At least, Giotto and Knuckle become Sawada Ieyasu and Sasagawa Ryunosuke respectively. Alaude, of course, does no such thing as ‘’changing’’ for this foreign country Instead, he bulldozes his way through town. The local hime-sama takes a liking to him, and before they know, he is somehow married to her.

Personally, Giotto suspects that Alaude threatened Hibari-hime’s father into compliance because there is no way he earned the title of warlord out of nowhere. Especially as marriage to a foreigner was technically not something the law abided. (2

A social rule that weighs much heavier upon them, however, is the fact that not entering into a marriage in Namimori seems to be the greatest crime a man can commit. So while Alaude is happily drinking tea in his castle, Giotto and Knuckle are in a bit of a pickle.

The bamboo ristles, the sakura trees flower, and spring is upon them before they know it. Giotto sees Knuckle off in a Shinto Temple, the man clad in a black yukata as he beams at his wife, cherry blossoms blowing by.

There are many misunderstandings between them- marriage is not what it meant back home here. It is akin to family, purely done for procreation. This might seem cold, but Knuckle and his wife eventually compromise until both are happy enough. This very view on marriage, in truth, is the very thing that saves Giotto himself.

Giotto is solely attracted to men, and has long since pandered away his heart to Cozart. Endlessly long letters to him prove this love is still alive, if his constantly ink-stained fingers did not already. They write more letters to each other than they can answer, some get lost in the mail, some in the wind, some in the sea, but never to their hearts.

But then again. Giotto might have come to terms with his homosexuality, but that seems to be of no consequence here in Japan- as long as he marries a woman.

The very thought of it makes his skin crawl. He might not have pledged himself to Cozart before the eyes of God, but he takes his vows very seriously. He simply does not want anybody else. But as even Asari is married off, hostile eyes increase. The locals are already graciously forgiving the fact that he is not Japanese. Not being married to the booth is a crime greater than Giotto even can imagine.

Ayane is a blessing. She wishes for naught but a child, one child only. That’s it. She does not even require Giotto to be a father beyond siring the child, but by the Lord, how can he not? They wed in autumn, the leaves just as brittle as their knowledge of each other.

Little may they know of each other, but the marriage? It works.

Giotto writes Cozart, keeps writing him. Unlike him, Cozart is free of society’s expectations, only the Simon with him on the island. The Simon, who breathe love with every breath they take. He understands, though, why Giotto had to marry, in the end. Neither of them pretends it doesn’t hurt nonetheless.

The letters are tear-stained, but their pain brings them closer together.

Ricardo dies at twenty-eight. Giotto receives the missive, a grief-filled letter from Lampo, and mourns his cousin, the bright-eyed child that died long ago. This hurt too, he carries with him forever. The pain of losing a child is not a little thing.

But still, he cries Hallelujah for having known him, sending a prayer up to the heavens every single night. For Ricardo; For his boy. In a country where so very few believe in his God, Giotto continues to cross himself.

It brings back thoughts of shaman Sepira’s predictions. Of the heir to his Dying Will, that, fortunately, Ricardo never was. So when his wife tells him she’s with child, he fears.

Sepira told him of an heir. But the child is born, and he loves Yoshimune with all his heart. One look at him tells Giotto that this is not the heir of his will. He’s glad. This child is his wife’s, truly and wholly.

His son, Yoshimune, grows up knowing his father as a warm, sweet man, who never quite fits in. Whose yukata is always a few centimetres off centre, who’s obi is always tied just touch incorrect, who’s geta are often left behind as he walks on bare feet. His father is an eccentric- too occupied with his writings, both to his penpals in Italy, and the history writings Hibari-hime hires him to do. Brush stuck behind his ear, ink spilled everywhere, blonde hair wild. That is the man Yoshimune knows as Ieyasu. Outo-san.

Giotto delights in his son and doesn’t rewrite his letters anymore. There is not a single thing to be hidden. The people who receive these letters know his soul; Perhaps, in a way, better than Giotto himself.

He writes letters full of Yoshimune, of his deeds, of his actions, to Cozart, G and Lampo. Even Ricardo still gets letters, though Giotto tucks those away into a drawer only he has the key to. He writes to Ricardo of the boy he could’ve called little brother. Of the child that is Giotto’s, the child Giotto will never regret. Just like he could never regret Ricardo, even if his heart still hurts at the thought of him being gone.

To have loved and lost, is better than to never have loved at all.

Giotto carries the holes in his heart, shaped like those departed, with pride. They hurt. They’ll never stop hurting. The edges of the raw pain might be dulled by time, but they’ll never go away. Giotto doesn’t want them to go away. He wants to walk around with a hole in his heart, and cry beneath the cherry blossoms, because he loves and he cannot stop. Does not want to stop, not even now Ricardo, now Elena, is not in their midst anymore.

He sends a prayer up to heaven, up to the Lord, every night.

He dreams of waking up with Cozart in his arms. Dreams of seeing Elena smile once more. Dreams of Ricardo, no older than eighteen years old, crying into his shoulder. Dreams of life. Dreams of death.

But wakes, for he must meet the dawn again, and see what the new day brings. Mostly, he gets out of bed in the morning because Yoshimune is waiting for him at breakfast and because the futon is not exactly an easy place to write a letter in.

Days, weeks, months, years, decades glide by, but the ink stains on Giotto’s hands do not fade away. By this points, the brush has become an extension of him. As such, it is no more than logical that the morning he discovers his wife is dead, he does so only after the midday meal, when is beginning to wonder just why she never got up that morning.

It was extremely uncharacteristic of her, and he really should’ve checked on her earlier, but usually the morning is their separate domain. She goes her way, he goes his.

When he finds her cold on the futon, he knows she is gone. With a sad smile, he tucks her white hair behind her ears, and calls his son to him.

When his son finally looks up from his mother’s corpse, tear-tracks still clearly visible, kneeling next to the bed, Giotto hesitates for a single moment. But Yoshimune is a grown man, has his own wife and children by this point, and Giotto knows he will be all right.

He is not sure if he could have abandoned him otherwise. Not when he remembers his mama calling him a good Catholic boy, even now he is an old man. But that is exactly what he is, and thus he says what he must.

‘’Add my name to your kaa-san’s grave. Tell them I'm dead. Tell them I followed after your mother out of a broken heart.''

There is no hesitation. The town’s people will believe it. Giotto is well known for his brittle heart and health.

Yoshimune stares at him, before shaking his head. ‘’Outo-san… You loved her, but not like that.’’

And Giotto… For the first time in years, he smiles. Unburdened, it looks, and Yoshimune’s eyes widen, and his hand rises to cover his heart, as if to protect it from the brightness with which it shines. It’s like looking into the sun, but Yoshimune cannot look away even now it blinds him, for his father has never had this vitality, this sheer happiness, and it takes his breath away.

''I never loved her the way I should have, but love her I did, and I know she would not have wanted me to remain here. That's why I need to be dead to the world right now. Because I'm going to the person who kept the heart your mother never had, and in a way, never desired.’’ His gaze softens, pressing his son against him. ‘’You were her treasure, Yoshimune. The one she loved the most.’’

Giotto kisses Yoshimune’s forehead, picks up the pack by the beside, and walks away.

It is simultaneously the very first and the very last time Yoshimune ever saw his father as he truly was, but it is seared into his mind nonetheless. That smile, that happiness, is the image that remains in the end.

The blazing sun, is what Yoshimune tells his children. The blazing sun, that was your grandfather.

He speaks of ink-stained fingers, of wistful gazes, but always, that one vibrant alive thing remains at the end. There is no other way he can remember his father anymore. Not with that glimpse into his true nature in the end.

He calls it by the single name he can think of: Hallelujah.

Giotto fakes his own death, kisses each of his friends still in town, crows into the air, and steals away like a thief in the night, leaving Namimori and all it stands for behind. He rushes out to sea.

It has been four decades since he last saw it, four decades since he last saw his love, but the sea calls like no other, like the island upon it, like the red-headed people that must have long-gone grey. His muscles tremble as he rows himself onto the ocean, rows all the way to the island, but this… He needs no dying will for this, even as old man.

He needs no dying will, because Giotto is finally living.

There is salt on his lips, an ache in his legs, as he sloshes through the shallow water, sand beneath his feet, pants wet as can be. The water is blue, the beach is white, and Cozart is beautiful when Giotto spots him between the palm trees.

His face is wizened, creasing like thick, old parchment tends to do. There are crow’s feet around his eyes, he limps as he walks and he's worn in all the ways one can be. Giotto has never loved him more.

He cries, howls, laughs, as they run towards each other, both their gaits hobbling, feeling as if the wind’s been knocked out of them. Still, this is their reunion, and Lord, do they love each other. They meet in the middle, embracing, patting all over each other to make certain this is real.

And it is. It is as real as the day they fused two family rings together, knowing it was the only kind of marriage they would get. They’re sixty-five and sixty-four now, incredibly old by the standards of their youth, but it matters not.

All that matters is this, the sun shining, and warm arms around each other, lips meeting after a separation that lasted decades.

They live and they breathe and they dance, shuffling along the island until they can’t anymore, too exhausted to go on. Two crotchety old men, except Cozart is like sunshine combined with wine, and Giotto was simply not made for being grumpy.

It is paradise, Simon island. They live their lives out there, ridiculously in love, finally together.

They are buried in the same tomb, and nobody stands up from the dead. It’s not needed, really.

His heart sings Hallelujah.

Giotto lives and as any with a dying will, regrets an awful lot. But he loves his son and his wife, and for a short time, could love Cozart like a true lover too. He has lived a blessed life.

This does not mean he rests when he dies, does not mean he ascends to heaven or hell. No, when he goes, just month after Cozart, they go hand in hand, watching over their families. In the end, he even gets to see the heir Sepira spoke of.

It is a boy, fighting with his brows furrowed and fists swung in the semblance of a prayer, who rains kisses on a red-headed boy in full view of everyone and fills his heart with friends and enemies alike, walking beside them every step of the way.

It does not matter which God he follows because the path of family is divine, a love so deep blood, circumstances, nor religion matters.

Where will he go? Heaven, hell? …It does not matter. Cozart’s hand is in his and their family is in good hands.

Giotto smiles, bows his head and sleeps.

Hallelujah

Praise the Lord

Author’s note

1.This chapter is called ‘’The Tomb’’, a reference to the tomb of Jesus Christ and the fact that Giotto is very much a mortal man because he cannot resurrect Elena.

2.Marriage between a Japanese and non-Japanese person was not officially permitted until 14 March 1873, a date now commemorated as White Day. Marriage with a foreigner required the Japanese national to surrender his or her social standing.

Also, many of the cultural things described in this chapter (such as how marriage was viewed) is the result of research on the time period, not necessarily something still believed in Japan today.

Thank you for reading this story- writing it was a great journey for me! I also want to thank my mother, who is the reason this exists in the first place, though indirectly it might be. Though I grew up with Catholic parents, she always gave me the choice whether I wanted to follow the religion or not, and to this day, I believe in multiple religions as result. She always told me a good Christian is one who believes in love, who strives to do the best for everyone and who try to be kind no matter what.  It's a very big topic, and it affects our societies from an extremely deep level. So even if I don't know the exact time period Giotto lived in, I could use the general idea of religion in the past. That's the point of Hallelujah, really. Of believing, even when everything goes wrong. Of having faith, though in which religion matters not, because Giotto's story preaches of love, the one emotion I believe is at the heart of everything. 

I hope I managed to carry that message to you, through this story, that is so very close to my heart.

I would also like to thank @i-w-p-chan  , @operaeagleicelynlacelett and @ladyhallen for their endless support and enthusiasm! Love you, girls! And last, but certainly not least: The Meet Me in the Pit crew! Thank you for accompanying me on this journey!

[poetyca]

Artisti – Artists

Artisti

A volte essere artisti permette di anticipare, oltre che di partecipare, attraverso un percepire sensibile che non tutti sanno comprendere. Il dover manifestare, colorare con parole o colori da imprimere sulla tela, con note che dovranno seguire un certo ritmo, non è nulla di studiato, è come essere attraversati da un lampo improvviso ( l’ispirazione) che plasma o usa come mezzo l’artista stesso. Sono persone sensibili, in ricerca di armonia, in ascolto attraverso l’intuito e quella compassione che è partecipazione, a volte non espressa in modo plateale. La voce dell’artista è prima di tutto ascolto non solo di sè ma anche di quanto tenga in contatto ogni altro essere, il tutto che non reca differnze tra la propria sofferenza o la propria gioia e quella degli altri.

20.06.2014 Poetyca

  Artists

Sometimes be artists allows to anticipate, as well as to participate, through a sensitive sense to understand that not everyone knows. The need to express, color words or color imprint on the canvas, with notes that will have to follow a certain pattern, it’s nothing studied, it’s like being crossed by a sudden flash (the inspiration) that plasma or use as a medium the artist himself. They are sensitive people, in search of harmony, listening through the insight and compassion that is participation, sometimes expressed not so blatant. The voice of the artist is first of all listening not only to themselves but also to what keep in touch every other being, everything that does not bear differnze between their own suffering or your own joy and that of others.

20/06/2014 Poetyca

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[operascenes2021]

Don Magnifico Uh! Siete voi! Ma il Principe dov'è?

Dandini (accennando Ramiro) Lo conoscete!

Don Magnifico (rimanendo sorpreso) Lo scudiero? Oh! guardate.

Ramiro Signore perdonate Se una combinazione...

Don Magnifico Che dice! Si figuri! mio padrone. (alle figlie) (Eh non senza perché venuto è qua. La sposa, figlie mie, fra voi sarà.) Ehi, presto, Cenerentola, Porta la sedia nobile. *

Ramiro No, no: pochi minuti. Altra carrozza Pronta ritornerà.

Don Magnifico Ma che! gli pare!

Clorinda (con premura verso le quinte) Ti sbriga, Cenerentola.

Scena ottava

Cenerentola recando una sedia nobile a Dandini, che crede il Principe.

Cenerentola Son qui.

Don Magnifico Dalla al Principe, bestia, eccolo lì.

Cenerentola Questo! Ah che vedo! Principe! (sorpresa riconoscendo per Principe Don Ramiro; si pone le mani sul volto e vuol fuggire)

Ramiro T'arresta. Che! Lo smaniglio! . . è lei! che gioia è questa!

Siete voi?

Cenerentola (osservando il vestito del Prence) Voi Prence siete?

Clorinda e Tisbe (fra loro, attonite) Qual sorpresa!

Dandini Il caso è bello!

Don Magnifico (volendo interompere Ramiro) Ma...

Ramiro Tacete.

Don Magnifico Addio cervello. (prende a sé Ramiro e Dandini) Se. . .

Ramiro e Dandini Silenzio.

Clorinda, Tisbe, Cenerentola, Ramiro, Dandini e Don Magnifico Che sarà!

Questo è un nodo avviluppato, Questo è un gruppo rintrecciato. Chi sviluppa più inviluppa, Chi più sgruppa, più raggruppa;

Ed intanto la mia testa Vola, vola e poi s'arresta; Vo tenton per l'aria oscura, E comincio a delirar.

Clorinda (strappando Cenerentola con violenza dal suo sbalordimento) Donna sciocca! Alma di fango! Cosa cerchi? che pretendi? Fra noi gente d'alto rango L'arrestarsi è inciviltà.

Don Magnifico (come sopra, da un'altra parte) Serva audace! E chi t'insegna Di star qui fra tanti eroi? Va' in cucina, serva indegna, Non tornar mai più di qua.

Ramiro (frapponendosi con impeto) Alme vili ! invan tentate Insultar colei che adoro; Alme vili! paventate: Il mio fulmine cadrà.

Dandini Già sapea che la commedia Si cangiava al second'atto; Ecco aperta la tragedia, Me la godo in verità.

Clorinda e Tisbe Son di gelo.

Don Magnifico Son di stucco.

Ramiro (Diventato è un mamalucco.)

Clorinda, Tisbe e Don Magnifico Ma una serva...

Ramiro (facendo una mossa terribile) Olà tacete. L'ira mia più fren non ha!

Cenerentola (in ginocchio a Don Ramiro, che la rialza) Ah! signor, s'è ver che in petto Qualche amor per me serbate, Compatite, perdonate, E trionfi la bontà.

Clorinda, Tisbe e Don Magnifico (con disprezzo) Ah! l'ipocrita guardate! Oh che bile che mi fa.

Ramiro e Dandini (a Don Magnifico e le figlie) Quelle lagrime mirate: Qual candore, qual bontà!

Don Magnifico Ma in somma delle somme, Altezza, cosa vuole?

Ramiro Piano: non più parole. (prende per mano Cenerentola) Questa sarà mia sposa.

Clorinda, Tisbe e Don Magnifico Ah! ah! dirà per ridere. (a Cenerentola) Non vedi che ti burlano?

Ramiro Lo giuro: mia sarà.

Don Magnifico Ma fra i rampolli miei, Mi par che a creder mio...

Ramiro (con aria di disprezzo, contraffacendolo) Per loro non son io. Ho l'anima plebea, Ho l'aria dozzinale.

Dandini Alfine sul bracciale Ecco il pallon tornò * E il giocator maestro In aria il ribalzò.

Ramiro (tenendo con dolce violenza Cenerentola) Vieni a regnar: lo impongo.

Cenerentola (volendo baciar la mano a Don Magnifico ed abbracciare le sorelle, è rigettata con impeto) Su questa mano almeno, E prima a questo seno...

Don Magnifico Ti scosta.

Clorinda e Tisbe Ti allontana.

Ramiro Perfida gente insana! Io vi farò tremar.

Cenerentola (passeggiando incerta, e riflettendo ed abbandonandosi a vari sentimenti) Dove son? che incanto è questo? Io felice! oh quale evento! È un inganno! ah! se mi desto! Che improvviso cangiamento! Sta in tempesta il mio cervello, Posso appena respirar.

Altri Quello brontola e borbotta, Questo strepita e s'adira, Quello freme, questo fiotta, Chi minaccia, chi sospira; Va a finir che a' Pazzarelli * Ci dovranno trascinar.

Ramiro e Dandini Vieni, vieni. Amor ti guida A regnar e a trionfar.

Ramiro trae seco Cenerentola, ed è seguito da Dandini e da Don Magnifico.

Scena nona

Tisbe, Clorinda, indi Alidoro.

Tisbe Dunque noi siam burlate?

Clorinda Dalla rabbia Io non vedo più lume.

Tisbe Mi pare di sognar; la Cenerentola...

Alidoro (entrando) Principessa sarà.

Clorinda Chi siete?

Alidoro (con alterigia) Io vi cercai la carità. Voi mi scacciaste. E l'Angiolina, quella Che non fu sorda ai miseri, Che voi teneste come vile ancella, Fra la cenere e i cenci, Or salirà sul trono. Il padre vostro Gli è debitor d'immense somme. Tutta * Si mangiò la sua dote. E forse forse Questa reliquia di palazzo, questi Non troppo ricchi mobili, saranno Posti al pubblico incanto.

Tisbe Che fia di noi, frattanto?

Alidoro Il bivio è questo. O terminar fra la miseria i giorni, O curve a piè del trono Implorar grazia ed impetrar perdono. Nel vicin atrio io stesso, * Presago dell'evento, La festa nuziale ho preparata: Questo, questo è il momento.

Clorinda Abbassarmi con lei! Son disperata!

Sventurata! mi credea * Comandar seduta in trono. Son lasciata in abbandono Senza un'ombra di pietà.

Ma che serve! tanto fa: Sono alfine giovinetta, Capitar potrà il merlotto. Vo' pelarlo in fretta in fretta, E scappar non mi potrà.

Un marito, crederei, Alla fin non mancherà. (parte)

Alidoro La pillola è un po' dura: Ma inghiottirla dovrà; non v'è rimedio. E voi, cosa pensate?

Tisbe Cosa penso? Mi accomodo alla sorte: Se mi umilio, alla fin non vado a morte. (parte)

Alidoro Giusto ciel! ti ringrazio! I voti miei Non han più che sperar. L'orgoglio è oppresso. Sarà felice il caro alunno. In trono Trionfa la bontà. Contento io sono. (esce)

Scena ultima

All'alzarsi della tenda scorgesi un atrio con festoni di fiori illuminato, e nel cui fondo su piccola base siedono in due ricche sedie Ramiro e Cenerentola in abito ricco; a destra in piedi Dandini, dame e cavalieri intorno. In un angolo Don Magnifico, confuso, con gli occhi fitti in terra. Indi Alidoro, Clorinda e Tisbe, mortificate, coprendosi il volto.

Coro Della fortuna istabile La revolubil ruota Mentre ne giunge al vertice Per te s'arresta immota. Cadde l'orgoglio in polvere, Trionfa la bontà.

Ramiro (scuotendo Cenerentola) Sposa...

Cenerentola (stupida per la gioia) * Signor, perdona La tenera incertezza Che mi confonde ancor. Poc'anzi, il sai, Fra la cenera immonda... Ed or sul trono... e un serto mi circonda.

Don Magnifico (corre in ginocchio) Altezza... a voi si prostra. *

Cenerentola Né mai m'udrò chiamar la figlia vostra?

Ramiro (accennando le sorelle) Quelle orgogliose... *

Cenerentola Ah Prence, Io cado ai vostri piè. Le antiche ingiurie Mi svanir dalla mente. Sul trono io salgo, e voglio Starvi maggior del trono. E sarà mia vendetta il lor perdono.

Nacqui all'affanno, al pianto. Soffrì tacendo il core; Ma per soave incanto, Dell'età mia nel fiore, Come un baleno rapido La sorte mia cangiò.

(a Don Magnifico e sorelle) No no; - tergete il ciglio; Perché tremar, perché? A questo sen volate; Figlia, sorella, amica Tutto trovate in me. (abbracciandole)

Tutti meno Cenerentola M'intenerisce e m'agita, È un Nume agli occhi miei. Degna del tron tu sei Ma è poco un trono a te.

Cenerentola Padre... sposo... amico... oh istante!

Non più mesta accanto al fuoco Starò sola a gorgheggiar. Ah fu un lampo, un sogno, un gioco Il mio lungo palpitar.

Coro Tutto cangia a poco a poco Cessa alfin di sospirar. Di fortuna fosti il gioco: Incomincia a giubilar.

ENGLISH - 

Don Magnifico Uh! Are you! But where is the Prince?

Dandini (pointing to Ramiro) You know him!

Don Magnifico (being surprised) The squire? Oh! watch.

Ramiro Lord forgive If a combination ...

Don Magnifico That says! Imagine! my master. (to the daughters) (Eh not without why he came here. The bride, my daughters, will be among you.) Hey, quick, Cinderella, She brings the noble chair. *

Ramiro No, no: a few minutes. Another carriage Ready will return.

Don Magnifico What! he thinks!

Clorinda (with care towards the wings) Hurry up, Cinderella.

Eighth scene

Cinderella bringing a noble chair to Dandini, who believes the Prince. Cinderella I'm here.

Don Magnifico Give it to the Prince, beast, there it is.

Cinderella This! Ah what do I see! Prince! (surprised by recognizing Don Ramiro as Prince; he puts his hands on his face and wants to escape)

Ramiro He stops you. That! The fuss! . . and she! what a joy this is!

Are you?

Cinderella (looking at the Prence dress) Are you Prence?

Clorinda and Thisbe (among them, astonished) What a surprise!

Dandini The case is beautiful!

Don Magnifico (wanting to interrupt Ramiro) But...

Ramiro Be silent.

Don Magnifico Goodbye brain. (takes Ramiro and Dandini to himself) Self. . .

Ramiro and Dandini Silence.

Clorinda, Thisbe, Cinderella, Ramiro, Dandini and Don Magnifico What will be!

This is a tangled knot, This is a traced group. Who develops more envelops, The more it splits, the more it gathers;

And meanwhile my head Fly, fly and then stop; I groped for the dark air, And I begin to delirium.

Clorinda (ripping Cinderella violently from her astonishment) Silly woman! Alma of mud! What are you looking for? what do you expect? Among us people of high rank Stopping is incivility.

Don Magnifico (as above, elsewhere) Bold servant! And who teaches you To stand here among so many heroes? Go to the kitchen, unworthy servant, Never go back to here.

Ramiro (intervening with impetus) Alme vili! try in vain Insult the one I adore; Alme vili! feared: My lightning will fall.

Dandini He already knew that comedy It was changed in the second act; Here is the tragedy, I really enjoy it.

Clorinda and Thisbe I am cold.

Don Magnifico I am stunned.

Ramiro (Became a mamalucco.)

Clorinda, Thisbe and Don Magnifico But a servant ...

Ramiro (making a terrible move) Here be silent. My anger has no more frenzy!

Cinderella (on his knees to Don Ramiro, who lifts her up) Ah! Mr., it is true that in the chest Have some love for me, Pity, forgive, And goodness triumphs.

Clorinda, Thisbe and Don Magnifico (with contempt) Ah! the hypocrite look! Oh what a bile that makes me.

Ramiro and Dandini (to Don Magnifico and his daughters) Those targeted tears: What candor, what goodness!

Don Magnifico But in sum of the sums, Height, what do you want?

Ramiro Piano: no more words. (takes Cinderella by the hand) This will be my bride.

Clorinda, Thisbe and Don Magnifico Ah! ah! she will say to laugh. (to Cinderella) Can't you see they're making fun of you?

Ramiro I swear: she will be mine.

Don Magnifico But among my offspring, It seems to me that to believe me ...

Ramiro (with an air of contempt, counterfeiting it) For them it's not me. I have a plebeian soul, I look cheap.

Dandini Finally on the bracelet Here is the balloon returned * And the master player In the air he turned it upside down.

Ramiro (holding Cinderella with sweet violence) Come to reign: I impose it.

Cinderella (wanting to kiss Don Magnifico's hand and embrace his sisters, she is rejected with impetus) On this hand at least, And first to this breast ...

Don Magnifico It pushes you away.

Clorinda and Thisbe It takes you away.

Ramiro Wicked insane people! I will make you tremble.

Cinderella (walking uncertain, and reflecting and indulging in various feelings) Where am I? what enchantment is this? Me happy! oh what an event! It is a deception! ah! if I wake up! What a sudden change! My brain is in a storm, I can hardly breathe.

Others The one grumbles and mumbles, This one screams and gets angry, That quivers, this rush, Who threatens, who sighs; It turns out that at 'Pazzarelli * They will have to drag us.

Ramiro and Dandini Come come. Amor guides you To reign and to triumph.

Ramiro draws Cinderella with him, and is followed by Dandini and Don Magnifico.

Ninth scene

Thisbe, Clorinda, then Alidoro. Thisbe So we are mocked?

Clorinda From anger I no longer see the light.

Thisbe I seem to dream; Cinderella...

Gold wings (entering) Princess will be.

Clorinda Who are you?

Gold wings (with haughtiness) I sought charity there. You drove me away. And Angiolina, that one Who was not deaf to the poor, That you kept as a vile handmaid, Between the ashes and the rags, Now she will ascend the throne. Your father He owes him immense sums. All * He ate his dowry. And maybe maybe This palace relic, these Not too rich furniture, they will be Places to the public enchantment.

Thisbe What about us in the meantime?

Gold wings This is the crossroads. Or finish between the mise

[mafiabosstsuna]

admin aldeheid’s prompt 1:

Ricardo in love with an S/O time traveller.

Whew that was harder than I thought. I hope everyone enjoys it though XD.

~ admin Adelheid

Having you transported four hundred years into the past was a mistake. You should not have been there while the Bovino was experimenting on the ten year bazooka paired with the black hole they had asked Chrome to imitate casting from their battles with Daemon Spade ten years ago.

It was a stupid accident. You should not have walked in unprepared but you were too excited. The Bovino claimed to have had in their keeping a diary from Lampo that had information about the Vongola’s first generation from the First Lightning Guardian’s point of view. Naturally, as the Famiglia’s record keeper you cannot allow such an opportunity to pass you by so you immediately intruded on them.

You didn’t know exactly what happened next. All you knew was that when you opened your eyes the first generation had found you on Bovino property and had taken you under their protection after seeing you were nothing but a lost and harmless stranger.

For some reason Giotto had taken a liking to you. Despite Alaude and Daemon’s disapproval he welcomed you to Vongola’s new mansion and treated you as one of the Family. You had thought something good would happen and that time would put you in your correct place after a day or so but you were wrong.

Your heart was almost dying with homesickness by the time you met Ricardo.

The melodic sound of piano music took hold of Ricardo’s feet and led him to one of the salons. He knew that Daemon had gotten Elena a piano recently but he didn’t know she already knew how to play.

Like Giotto, he was born and raised a peasant. Their village was poor, music and art were crude and more than usually related to religion. When they had begun the quest to form Vongola and had their first tastes of the beautiful music and art that rich people were so addicted to they could not help but be drawn to it themselves.

And so here he was gawking as you played a melody on the piano that he had never heard before (insert: Reminiscence from Suikoden 2). He didn’t know how he could understand it but he could hear it. The fear… the pain… the longing… the hope… It was all in every single note that was produced by your fingertips.

And as the last few notes were gently played on the piano’s keyboard he couldn’t help but be mesmerized by the sight of a lone tear falling down your cheek. You made such a heartbreaking picture that he didn’t even know he had taken a step forward towards you.

His step was what made you look up in surprise and met his wine colored eyes…

You remembered your history lessons about him. The man that had made the Vongola what it was for the next eight generations after taking over. Cruel, ruthless… a man without mercy… You had always viewed him as some kind of demon back then but now… why can’t your heart stop beating as you look into his eyes? Why weren’t his eyes emitting the same demonic glow you see in Xanxus on a good day? Instead this man’s eyes were clear and dark. Turbulent but… human.

He listened to you gasp and for a split second he thought he saw a hint of recognition enter your gaze as you jumped to your feet. But it had gone by the time you bowed in respect and your feet moved to leave.

“Wait.”

His soft, gruff command made your feet freeze where they were and turn back towards him in surprise. He couldn’t stop himself from staring at your face and your heart wouldn’t stop beating like a hare escaping from hunting dogs.

You look away in an attempt to hide your face. It was foolish but it was all you could do. It wouldn’t do to accidentally change anything now and alter the future…

“Who are you…?” Ricardo asked wonderingly before noting that he was acting like a bewitched fool. An inappropriate way for a high ranking capo to act. With a move of his hand he took out a gun and glared you down with it. “Talk. Are you some sort of spy?”

“Ricardo, is that you?”

Ricardo didn’t even bother to look at his cousin as Giotto came up beside him. He was much too afraid to pull his eyes away from you. He didn’t know why but he had an awful feeling in his gut that if he closed his eyes for just one moment… you might disappear.

Giotto took one look at the situation before smiling benignly. “Ricardo, I see you’ve met my guest. Hey, this is Ricardo, my cousin. His father married my mother’s sister in case you’re wondering about the difference in coloring. It’s alright, don’t be afraid. He might look scary but he’s actually a pretty decent guy.”

Ricardo withdrew his gun in favor of glaring at his cousin. “What the hell is that supposed to mean?”

Giotto laughed lightly even as he held up his hands trying fend off the imaginary waves of anger from his taller cousin. “Nothing! I just thought it’s easy for people to think you’re a bad guy since you look… well… mean.”

“Giotto.”

“What?”

“Hold still.”

“…Why?”

“So I can shoot that stupid head of yours.”

“See? This is the reason why girls just don’t take to you.”

“Shut the fuck up.”

They stopped at the sound of your laughter. Soft and sweet and genuine. It made Ricardo forget to breathe, his heart was beating way too fast. All he could do was stare at you in wonder.

“You finally laughed.” Giotto commented, smiling in what you could only figure was relief. “I was getting worried. Ricardo, stay for dinner, won’t you?”

Ricardo couldn’t stop himself from being haunted by you from then on. Even as he left the Vongola mansion to tend to his own property his mind would eventually follow the path towards his memories of you. The melody you had played the first time he saw you stuck in his head like a leech and he found himself humming it at odd times whether or not he was alone. He was not even aware that people were starting to look at him strangely because of it.

He normally did not have to go to Giotto’s to get his dinner but he found himself drawn there night after night just to catch glimpses of you. After dinner it had become normal for the Family to ask you to play the piano and he would normally stick to the shadowy corners of the room with Alaude staring at your face as you bent down on the instrument and played it with your magnificent fingers.

He had never thought he would be so fascinated with another person that he would actually find excuses to approach you whenever he was in your immediate vicinity.

Joining you for walks in the garden. Grocery shopping. Even the smallest errands. Despite Giotto’s remarks he was thrilled that you weren’t afraid of him. He enjoyed your presence greatly and so much that he gave you strict instructions to call for him whenever you had to run an errand outside the mansion.

But you knew getting closer to him than this would only spell tragedy for the both of you. What goes up must come down and you did not know how long you would be stranded here in this time for. For all you knew the Decimo was already pressuring the Bovino to find ways to get you back since he was such good friends with your father. So you kept the future Secondo at arm’s length. Even though every beat of your heart wanted to see more of him. Wanted to have him near…

Your obvious rejection upset Ricardo more than he had wanted to admit and one night, as you walked to your room after your nightly performance on the piano, he stepped out and pulled you into the shadows he had been hiding in; kissing you in drunken desperation.

“Ricardo!” you pulled away from his devastating kiss of wine and longing only to have his lips pursue yours again, defying your protests. His arms trapping you in a wanting embrace, never wanting to let go. “Please, stop!”

“Why?” he groaned in despair as he buried his face in the crook of your neck, inhaling every bit off essence he could get from your skin. “Why are you pushing me away? Aren’t I good enough?!”

“Please don’t―”

“Can’t you see you’re driving me mad?!” he half yelled, half moaned as he ground himself tighter against you. “No. I don’t care if you’re in love with Giotto. You’re mine. I love my cousin but you’re the one thing I can’t give him!”

“Ricardo, you don’t understand,” you tried to explain. Your heart feeling as though shards of glass were stuck in it. Wanting to hold him close but your reasons won’t let you. “I’m not in love with Giotto but―”

He fished something in his pocket and all of a sudden your eyes widened at the feel of something cold and heavy being slipped onto your left ring finger. You stared in wide eyed shock at the glistening gold band decorated by a large opal and small diamonds now marking your hand. The sight of it made your heart ache even more with despair.

“I can’t take this―”

“Don’t take it off.” Ricardo ordered. His words hard as granite and as resolute as the steel in his eyes. His gaze reflecting a resolve that you had only read about in books. And it was now being centered on you. “I don’t care what you say. You are going to be my wife.”

And he proved that. For days after that he made sure you wore his ring. Whenever he found that you had not done so he would march you right into your room to fetch it and personally put it back onto your finger. It happened so many times that you eventually got tired of it and just wore the ring to make him stop dragging you around. But you never mentioned accepting his proposal. Sadly Ricardo took your silence as permission.

The wedding was already being planned when the mansion was attacked by an enemy Famiglia. Elena was shot right before your eyes and even as you tried to help her a familiar black hole appeared at your back and sucked you out of harm’s way. You returned to your own time in tears; your heart broken in more ways than one. No matter what anyone did no one could stem your sorrow and refused to answer any of their questions. No one even dared ask about the ring on your finger.

When you had enough strength to stop crying and looked into the Vongola record books again you turned back to the entry about the Vongola’s first generation. Nothing had been changed in the records; everything had stayed the same.

The Bovino, in an act of remorse, sent Lampo’s diary over to you. Along with a music box made of lacquer and tortoiseshell with a note attached saying the music box came with the diary. Listlessly you opened the diary first and read the treasures of history that had been your whole life before the incident happened.

What you discovered there made you break out in a fresh slew of tears.

Lampo’s entry had crushed her soul.

“--Ricardo had loved Giotto with all of his heart. I had always believed there was nothing that could have ever destroyed their bond as a family. But after what happened that night… That night when Elena died and Ricardo’s fiancé disappeared… Ricardo was never the same again.

It was as though he had gone mad. He couldn’t stop blaming Giotto for what happened. Giotto himself was not surprised when Ricardo organized the coup and took over the Vongola. That man… That Ricardo… He changed into an angry, bitter man… The only form of sentimentality left to him was a music box he would constantly listen to whenever he was alone. I stole it thinking I should protect it from Tierzo who had hated Ricardo and would destroy all of the Secondo’s things given the chance. This music box... Ricardo had kept listening to it… until the day he died…”

Blinded by tears and with trembling fingers your hand opened the music box that came with the diary… and heard the song you had played the first time he met you…

[vongolastic]

@tardislemur replied to your post “tardislemur replied to your post “What exactly being harmonized with...”

(assuming I've understood that bit of canon correctly.)

So'd how'd Damon plot against Giotto?

generally unheard for a septet member to defy their sky. and, technically speaking, in iib at least, daemon didn’t plot against giotto himself, just against the simon. ‘tried to’ being the keyword here.

giotto stepping down has little to do with daemon or simon or anything. people change, vongola changed, and it became something that wasn’t what he intended it to be... on the one hand, yes, the people are protected. that was his initial intention. on the other hand, vongla is... a lot more casually violent and blatantly disregarding of the authorities than he’d like. and getting more criminal by the day.

his options are to either a) viciously cull trouble makers and reign vongola back in, risk being a dictator, or b) leave the leadership to someone else who can handle vongola as it is now. most of his guardians agree with his decision to leave, if only slightly.

and! the harmony compulsion is really just a compulsion, not mind control. so long as feelings align, the effects are just Amplified to the point where it might almost seem like mind control because everyone is just On The Same Page, but taken up to 11. harmony bonds can be broken by either party though, not just the sky. if the element Isn’t Feeling It Anymore, they’re absolutely able to break the bond and leave (depending on the sky, it can be seen as betrayal or not). daemon and lampo are the only ones who don’t go to japan with giotto when he retires, but lampo remains bonded while daemon breaks his and goes on to harmonize with ricardo instead.

basically, daemon was loyal, but after elena died his views kinda veered into another lane, so to speak, and that loyalty became a desire to make vongola Stronger, which.. isn’t what giotto feels. so the harmony is. unharmonized. sucks, but it happens, what can you do.

why he eventually jumps ship and heads to kakishima is 8U A Secret. although he Still intends to make vongola Strong. just. in a different way.

[fatecamiswhil]

Primo Meets Decimo - LAST CHAPTER!

Anime: Katekyo Hitman Reborn! Pairings: None (Paternal Relationships: First Gen and Tenth Gen) Rating: T+ Summary: Giotto couldn't believe it, time-travel just can't be possible. But when an Arcobaleno pays him a visit and presents to him a four-year-old child with big doe-like eyes that creepily and eerily resembles him, all doubts were blown away. Chapter 1: Giotto's Future Son.

Mirrors: FFN | Ao3

Current Ages: 27 - Ryohei, Mukuro, Kyouya 26 - Takeshi, Hayato 25 - Chrome, Lambo 24 - Tsuna

Chapter 10: The Tenth Boss of Vongola.

"I'll give you three months."

That was Kyouya's answer after being asked how much longer they had until the liquidation process starts, or until the idea had presented itself. Still, up to now they had nothing, and it had been exactly three months already. Giotto was still the Boss, his friends were still loyally proceeding with their duties as guardians for the famiglia, and not once was the idea of a dissolution ever made itself present in any of their conversations, be it casual or in their meetings.

Something was going to happen, he could feel it. Something that would pave the way for the decision to be made, whether through them or by itself, but what?

It scares him. What could happen that would make him decide to just lose it all? They've met their kids already, they've gone back and forth several times in fact they're all grown up now and will probably have no more reasons of coming back to this time anymore. Not that anyone said anything about it, but it was only the natural course of their history he supposed. Unless of course something bad happens again and they had to turn to their last resort yet again, which Giotto strongly prayed against just for the safety of their children.

He didn't need to meet them again, no matter how much he wanted to, he would be fine just knowing that they were all doing well.

Tsu-kun is already the Boss, and he already knows he was proud of him. Everything was almost already said and done, there was nothing more he could wish for when it came to Tsu-kun. But maybe, there still was... when was he going to meet his future wife, Tsu-kun's mother, where is she? Why is it taking so long for him to find her? Or for anything to happen at all?

Giotto had been mentally preparing himself since the first time he met Tsu-kun, his future son. And when was that? How long has it been? Six months? Give and take.

He sighed, the only thing he was able to accomplish with his daydreaming was to effectively distract himself from paperwork. He wasn't getting anywhere and even thinking wasn't helping.

Thankfully, a knock on the door saved him from going back to work.

"Come in," he called out to whoever was behind the door.

When the door opened, Giotto had to pause in shuffling his papers around the table to stare up at the unrecognizable man at his door.

"My apologies, Primo-sama! He insisted to coming here himself," the maid cowered behind the man.

"It's okay," Giotto waved off the maid to deal with the guest himself.

But before the maid could walk out of the room, the man stopped her and spoke. "Please alert all of the Vongola Guardians as well, that they have guests waiting for them at the sitting room."

The maid looked at Giotto for confirmation and he nodded to her before she went on her way.

"Guests? So there's more of you?" Giotto had to ask once left alone with the stranger.

"Yes, the entire family in fact." The man smiled, visibly trying not to be conspicuous at the statement considering the Boss doesn't seem to have recognized him yet, before bowing his head as low as his waist would let him. "It's nice to see you again, Primo-sama." The man straightened up and wore an almost cheeky smile. "It's me, Gokudera Hayato. The Tenth Vongola Guardian of the Storm and right-hand man to Vongola Decimo."

With eyes widening, Giotto blinked up at the man, who was obviously taller than him, about the same height as his own Storm Guardian, who only happens to be the said man's father. He was wearing a black suit, of course, with a red undershirt. Hair cut a little shorter, and face definitely sharper, and more mature. Primo searched his eyes for the lie, or the joke, but neither was there. He was telling the truth.

"Juudaime is waiting for you at the sitting room," Gokudera stated a little clearer to give the first Boss the encouragement he seemed to be asking for.

This time, Giotto managed to smile. Soft and serene and full of mirth. "It's nice to finally see you again too, Hayato."

Gokudera led the way to the mansion's sitting room, pausing in front of the door by the entrance hall as they met with the rest of the first generation guardians. He bowed again, as solemn as he had before. "My apologies for coming unannounced, it's good to see that all of you are doing well." He straightened up, but no one returned the greeting. No one has recognized him yet, and he fought so hard internally not to laugh at their faces. His father was the one standing up front, scowling at him before glancing towards Primo.

Giotto didn't say anything and just continued smiling, almost equally amused as Hayato by their reactions. Lampo, Asari and Knuckles were looking at one another, in somewhat confusion, wordlessly asking if anyone recognized the man. But no one did, so Hayato cleared his throat and took a step forward towards G.

"Father, it's me."

G's eyes shot open so wide, one would be worried over his eyeballs falling out. "Hayato?"

Gokudera smiled a lop-sided grin, sheepishly chuckling and looking down on his shoes as he felt a little embarrassed presenting himself in front of his father like this.

"It's really you?" G held him by the shoulder, before almost crushing him in a tight hug.

Hayato was frozen in his place, stunned at the sudden show of affection that he should've expected but never thought to. They stayed like that for a few seconds before the long-awaited reunion was broken off by another painfully familiar voice.

"Are we getting this done by today?" A much taller and leaner Kyouya came striding from the front doors, dressed in a similar suit as Gokudera but his undershirt was purple. He was staring at his pocket watch before snapping it close as he stopped by the side of his father. "I have a flight in two hours."

"You're late," Hayato was then promptly released from the arms of his father, frowning at the Cloud Guardian. "And we already talked about this, Kyouya. Can't you at least spare this day for our fathers?"

Instead of answering him, Kyouya faced his father. "I'm sorry, father. But I'm afraid we won't be able to stay for too long."

"Of course," Alaude replied without even batting an eyelash.

Hayato sighed, before shaking his head disapprovingly. "You do realize that Juudaime won't let you go home by yourself, right?"

Kyouya scoffed, and walked past him to open one side of the double doors. "He's not the Boss of me."

And Hayato opened the other side, all the while rolling his eyes.

"Papa!" It was Chrome who ran up to them first, the moment the doors were opened. She had longer hair, dressed in a black suit with a violet undershirt, but was matched with a pleated skirt instead of the usual trousers for men. She all but lunged at Daemon, tears in her eyes. "I missed you so much!"

"I missed you so much as well, sweetie." Daemon greeted, kissing her on her forehead, before looking up to look out for his son.

Mukuro was standing behind her, on equal height as his father. He was wearing the usual suit but with an indigo-colored undershirt. He bowed slightly. "It's been a while, father."

Daemon nodded, smile almost permanent.

"Long time no see to the extreme!" Ryohei greeted everyone, while walking to his father for a hug. All of them seemed to be in suits, coordinated with their flames, his undershirt was yellow.

"I missed you to the extreme!" Knuckles greeted back.

Lambo approached his father, also wearing a suit but with a green undershirt. He didn't hug him, just raised a hand to show off their apparent height difference. "Father, I'm bigger than you now~"

"Yeah, yeah, whatever..." Lampo waved him off, as he went to sit in one of the sofas. "How old are you now, anyway?"

"Twenty-five," Lambo followed after him, also slouching in the seat.

"Well, you definitely don't act like it," Lampo huffed and crossed his arms.

Yamamoto rose from where he sat, looking formal in his suit with a blue undershirt. He also greeted his own father with a hug. "Sorry, we aren't able to visit you guys as often as we'd like."

"Well, I'm just glad that none of you seem to be injured this time," Asari released his son from the hug, looking up at him since he was also much taller than him now.

Giotto smiled at all the fatherly reunions, everyone seemed to already be accounted for. "Where's Tsu-kun?"

Gokudera moved towards the open balcony, and seemed to be calling out for someone. The rest of the Tenth Generation Guardians followed suit and arranged themselves in a straight line. "We proudly present to you, the Tenth Boss of Vongola, Decimo."

And a twenty-four-year-old Tsu-kun walked out front to present himself. "Hello, Papa."

He was the spitting image of Giotto.

The only notable differences would be the hair and eye color, everything else was copy-pasted. His bangs were of the same length as his father, reaching over his nose in a soft wave. Eyes held a gentle light, shining in mirth and calm with maturity. His face was sharper, but not stern, just well poised. He had a lean built, not overly muscular but not lanky either. He was wearing a white suit and cloak, similar to what he wore the last time he came here, but the length of the cloak didn't stop at his rear anymore, instead it flowed to cover the entirety of his figure.

"Honestly, even I could mistake him for Giotto," Daemon chuckled good-naturedly before shaking his head in mock disbelief.

They sat themselves in front of one another, each famiglia on their respective side, sons mirroring their arrangement to that of their fathers. Tsuna sipped on a cup of tea, served to them earlier on. There doesn't seem to be any kind of urgent matter to take care of to explain why they were even here, it just felt like a proper visit for once.

"How old are you now, Tsu-kun?" Giotto broke the comfortable silence.

"Twenty-four, Papa." Tsuna smiled shyly at the rim of his cup.

"You all look so mature now," Asari commented, unable to hide his excitement.

"Yes, well... it's been a long time," Yamamoto answered, reflecting the smile of his father.

"How long exactly?" Knuckles asked.

"Ten years to the extreme!" Ryohei answered, putting up a fist.

"Ten years, huh?" G murmured.

"Again, we apologize for not being able to properly visit until now," Gokudera sent his father a sheepish smile.

"It's fine, I'm sure you're all quite busy and have a lot of things to take care of," Giotto waved off the apology. "I'm just glad you're all safe."

"But this isn't just on an act of whim, is it?" Alaude steered the conversation to a more serious course. "Considering the gravity of your previous travels here, we would assume this isn't just an opportunity to say 'hi'?"

"Never a dull moment with the Cloud Guardians," Mukuro sneered towards Kyouya's direction behind him.

Tsuna smiled with a grimace, setting down his cup on the coffee table. He opted to answer the older Cloud's query and ignore Mukuro's snide remark. "Indeed, it is so unfortunate that we have to meet again under these circumstances. Although, that's not to say things are grievous, but still important nonetheless."

"Is there something wrong?" Giotto's expression was immediately taken over by concern.

"Well... not right now." Tsuna stared down at his hands, clasping them together before giving a tight squeeze. He was nervous, but he didn't want to be grim. He took a deep breath and braced himself, before looking back up at his father, a somewhat cheerful smile back on his face. "We have important news for all of you, two actually. Which would you like to hear first, the good news or the bad news?"

Giotto looked afflicted, he glanced towards his right-hand man and G gave him a small nod. "The bad news."

Tsuna visibly pressed his lips, smile gone as he eyed the cup of tea he was drinking earlier. He thought about taking another sip, but decided against it. He slowly brought his eyes back up at his father, and looked around his guardians, before resigning himself to his fate. He had to say it, that was the reason they came back here in the first place.

"We have decided to liquidate Vongola."

Then came the absolute silence.

Tsuna watched in grave resignation the smallest and slowest tweaks in his father's changing expression, it didn't go much from worried though. The same goes for the rest of the First Generation Guardians.

"Which is a terrible idea," Kyouya's clipped voice continued to break the silence, powered by the chance of a disagreement.

"And while I hate to agree with Kyouya, I have to admit that I also voted strongly against this," Mukuro crossed his arms, looking to his father before glancing to his right towards the younger right-hand man.

"Unfortunately, our three measly votes were easily outnumbered." Gokudera took the hint and supported their side, he closed his eyes as this was a decision he couldn't agree with at all with his Boss.

"Oh, come on, you guys. We were pretty democratic about this," Yamamoto chuckled sheepishly at the antics of his co-guardians.

"Democracy is nothing more but a pretentious rule of the mob," Mukuro grumbled loud enough for everyone to hear. "I would not leave it to you to understand though."

"Hey, easy there. We already talked about this, you guys know why we decided to do this," Ryohei tried to remind them of their reasons.

But Gokudera was not sharing the sentiment. "We? We didn't decide to do this. You did, against our decision not to." Stressing 'we' and 'our' by pointing to himself, Mukuro and Hibari. The three of them were all on Tsuna's left side.

"Well, it's the three of you against the five of us, and the Boss is on our side." Lambo actually had the gull to stick his tongue out at them.

"Why you little- what are you five?!" Gokudera rolled his sleeves up, and made an act of grabbing for Lambo's collar, but was stopped by the voice of their Boss.

"Enough already! Stop embarrassing me in front of Papa!" Tsuna turned to glare at them, and the guardians let go of each other, rearranging themselves back to their previous stances, but not without grumbling to themselves.

"I'm sorry, Juudaime," Gokudera rolled his sleeves back down.

Tsuna huffed and turned his attention back to his father. "Please excuse us, Papa. We don't usually argue like this."

"Yeah, right." Mukuro couldn't help but scoff, Gokudera promptly elbowed him on the side as Tsuna pinched the bridge of his nose, trying to discreetly hide the reddening of his cheeks.

"In any case, we're here to let you know of the decision we came to," Tsuna straightened up, meeting his father's eyes squarely. "I'm sorry, Papa. Vongola isn't going any further from us."

For a moment they had silence again, but this time it was broken off by Giotto himself.

"No... we're sorry, for everything." Giotto didn't even know how to put it all into words, all the bad things that happened to their sons because of the selfish decisions of their pasts. He couldn't even bare to think about it.

"No, please don't be. You gave us so much and we're forever grateful." Tsuna shook his head, eyes getting glassy. He then stood up and walked around the coffee table to hug his father. "I love you very much, Papa. I'm so proud to be your son. I'm so happy with the life you gave me. And we're not doing this because it was terrible, because it wasn't. We enjoyed every bit of it, the hard times that made us stronger, the little mischiefs here and there. It was all so exciting and so much fun, I still can't really believe it." He pulled away, and stared into his father's eyes. "So thank you, for everything."

At the back of his mind, Giotto figured Tsuna was only saying this to make him feel better, but he wasn't going to argue, not when he might actually end up crying. "Thanks to you too, Tsu-kun. You have no idea how happy you make me."

They straightened up and shared a little laugh, before Giotto steers them back on track. "And the good news?"

Tsuna had a look of surprise on his face, caught off guard by the sudden question. He then looked away and bit his lower lip, cheeks reddening again for some reason. He heaved a deep breath and smiled happily at his father.

"I'm getting married."

Daemon poured himself a glass of red wine, offering another glass to Mukuro but the younger Mist shook his head with a smile. They were in his office, taking the most of the time they had together again, each father spending it with their son, and a daughter in his case. He took a full swig, finishing the drink all at once before setting the glass aside and sitting himself in front of his son, Chrome was sitting beside him.

He sighed, running a hand through his hair as if exasperated. "I still can't believe your Boss is already getting married, isn't this all too soon?"

"He's been the Vongola Boss for ten years now, taking care of the family since our last visit here. I'm pretty sure he's capable enough, and it's not exactly a big deal to any of us." Mukuro spoke, both eyebrows raised to express his nonchalance regarding the matter.

"Well, I guess I can take your word for it," Daemon leaned back before narrowing his eyes on his son. "But what about you? When are you getting married?"

Mukuro smirked, but wasn't fazed. "Not any time soon, father. Unfortunately, I have not any interest in romance as of yet. I would love to inform you though, that you have a better chance of getting a juicy answer from Chrome here, when it comes to those matters."

"Onii-chan!" Chrome widened her eyes at her brother, struggling to glare as if betrayed.

"Chrome?" Daemon was suddenly turning to her, dread written all over his feature.

"It's not like that, father. I jut have a boyfriend, but we don't have any plans of getting married..." Chrome had to look away before ending her sentence, "yet."

"How long have you been with him?" Daemon held her hand in between his, trying to make himself to look understanding enough for her to tell the truth.

"Uhmm, five years? I think, something like that," Chrome kept her eyes on their hands, obviously shying away.

"That's a pretty long time already," Daemon heard himself mutter under his breath.

"Indeed," Mukuro's voice broke him out of his thoughts. "But you need not worry, father. As much as the guy in question is a complete animal, Ken's actually one of my most loyal subordinates. If he dares hurt my little sister, I assure you, I will slaughter him myself."

Daemon slowly tore his eyes away from Chrome to look at his son, he nodded as solemn as he would for any order, albeit a little conflicted at hearing the word 'animal' but still grateful that now he had a name at the very least.

"That wouldn't happen though, because he's always so nice to me," Chrome defended, pouting to the direction of her brother.

"It's just reassurances, Chrome." Mukuro chuckled to himself, as he sent her a nod. "Just reassurances."

Their little family time was interrupted by a ring of the phone on Daemon's desk. He wordlessly went over to answer it, smiling as he heard the voice on the other line, and covering the mouthpiece to speak to his children. "It's your mother."

Alaude followed after Kyouya through the long hallways of the mansion, leading to the family library. His son had mentioned earlier that most of the families archives were destroyed during the great battle that arose from the dissolution, they were able to manage with what they had left, but it was still a good kind of help to be able to browse through certain information from here.

"Kyouya," Alaude called over, stopping in his tracks in the middle of the hallway.

His son paused, turning to look back at him. He was much taller than him now.

"Don't be overly audacious, we do not know what kind of future lies ahead of us no matter how sure of it we are ourselves."

"I'm not." Kyouya blinked at him, seemingly not taking offense albeit disagreeing.

"If in case the liquidation does not go over too well for the family, the very least you should do is secure an heir. That's a part of your job, as the aloof drifting Cloud, protecting the family from an independent standpoint. Even though, you didn't agree with the decision."

"I understand, father. You need not recite my vows for me," Kyouya released a huff, but his words didn't have a bite to it. "I hate to break it to you though, that the leadership over CEDEF has already been passed down to Hayato, not me. I have established my own Foundation now, and you need not worry regarding our influence towards the rest of the family. Hayato and I are still but mere guardians to the Boss."

Alaude closed his eyes and released a soft content sigh, resuming his walk towards the family library. "I'm not worried."

Knuckles and Ryohei walked side-by-side, through the gardens. Everyone was ecstatic about the idea of Tsu-kun getting married, but it had a somewhat special appeal to him considering his service to the Church. The future truly was ahead of them, maybe a little too far in fact. But it's all good, he wouldn't be the one to complain.

"It would probably be nice to be the one wedding Tsu-kun to his bride," he mentioned absent-mindedly.

"Oh yeah, you're a priest," Ryohei was suddenly reminded. "Yeah, that'd be nice... even nicer if you could wed us too."

"Are you also prepared to settle down, son?" Knuckles didn't wish to pry because those things of the future felt like it had nothing to do with him anymore, still he couldn't be blamed for caring and being curious of his son's affairs in the future. All that could have been, and at the same time, cannot be possible for him.

"Hah! Yeah, I've been with this girl for seven years now, and counting," Ryohei grinned from ear to ear. "I wish you could meet her to the extreme."

"Me too." Knuckles nodded solemnly, but didn't want to brood about it. "What's her name? What is she like?"

"Hana is very strong-willed! Kind and considerate, but she isn't too good with kids. It's okay though, because I am!" Ryohei laughed, remembering the many times she told him she'd rather deal with mafiosos than babies. "She's actually the best friend of Tsuna's bride."

"Oh, I see," Knuckles smiled at his son's optimism, he was really very happy for him. "It's nice that you kids didn't allow the whole mafia deal take over your lives completely, settling down and living a peaceful life is best."

"That was our reason, father," Ryohei smiled sadly. "We've long decided that our future will be in your name."

"I'm glad."

Lampo served his son a slice of cake in the kitchen, it was like a usual routine, eating sweets together. All the while, whining about the marriage he'd just heard of from the not-so-little Tsu-kun. "Giotto hasn't even met his mother yet, and he's already thinking of getting married?" He sighed dramatically. "What is wrong with this world? Everything's out of order!"

"There wasn't order to begin with," Lambo lazily flicked a strawberry in his mouth, before licking the icing off his finger.

"There would be if you guys just stayed in your time, and not tamper with things that shouldn't be meddled with," Lampo lectured, as if he had the right.

"Does that mean you don't want to see us anymore?" Lambo wasn't looking at him, and instead was keeping his eyes locked on the cake he was slicing with his fork. "Why does it bother you anyway?"

"You were supposed to be just kids, and now you aren't." Lampo didn't answer the first question. "You're even older than me now, and you're supposed to be my son."

"Only by a few years, and that's understandable considering time-travel." Lambo swallowed a spoonful of cake before following up another question. "Anyway, is it really such a big deal?"

Lampo stared at him with a frown, crossing his arms. He was quiet for a moment and just as Lambo thought he wouldn't speak anymore he did. "We didn't get to see you kids grow up at all."

"You did."

"Barely."

"Does it matter?"

"I'm your father." Lampo looked down at his feet, visibly upset and a little ashamed. "As horrible as I was at that job, I still am your father... Of course, it matters."

Lambo closed his eyes with a smile. "I wasn't sure if I wanted to tell you earlier, but now I do."

"What is it this time?" Lampo frowned.

"I have a girlfriend too. Her name is Ipin and she's a martial artist." Lambo grinned, proud and gloating.

Lampo sighed, not really surprised. "And here I am, scared of knocking someone up to accidentally produce you."

Asari held a proper Japanese tea ceremony between his son and himself inside his room, he watched as Takeshi sipped a cup holding it in both hands. He tried to be discreet in observing, but he was sure he failed. He was just thankful his son didn't seem to mind the staring. Even just sitting on his knees, Takeshi held himself higher thanks to his height. He was more muscular than his father, his skin had become darker, he seemed even older. Asari noticed the small clipped scar on his chin, and vaguely wondered how he got it. It must've been from some battle, and he wasn't sure if he wanted to know the story. He was curious, that was for certain, but knowing wouldn't really help any. Still he was his father and that should be enough, if not the right to know then at least the right to ask. Then again, if he was going to ask any question at all, he'd rather be it about something more interesting.

"How have you been?"

"Pretty fine, things have started to slow down after the decision was made," Yamamoto answered, willing to humour any question from his father.

"That's good," Asari paused, unsure to ask his real question. "Are you also...?"

Yamamoto stared at how his father gestured his hands in a circular motion, and looked a bit confused for a bit. "If this is about Tsuna's wedding, then the answer is no. I am not currently involved with anyone."

"Oh, all right then. Sorry about that," honestly, Asari wasn't sure if he should be happy or disappointed. Either way, he has no control or influence whatsoever in his son's life in the future. He just might've wanted to know more and be there somehow.

"No problem, it's fine," Yamamoto was trying to gauge his father's reaction but he wasn't really keen on that so he left it be.

"There will come a time for you, though," Asari stared questioningly. "Right?"

"Maybe," Yamamoto let out a boyish grin. "Well, okay. Hopefully, really."

Asari chuckled, this was getting a little awkward. "I just wish you happiness."

"I know, Dad." Yamamoto nodded, feeling a little helpless but glad. "And I assure you, I couldn't be any more happier in my life right now. You have absolutely nothing to worry about."

That silenced Asari, he didn't know what more to say.

Yamamoto took that as a sign to continue. "You should just enjoy your life too, and be happy. Don't worry about me."

Asari smiled. "You're right, deep down I know you'll be all right. And we'll be fine over here too."

"Yeah, just do what you have to do."

G and Gokudera sat at the steps of the front porch, smoking a few sticks. He stared over his son, mulling over how he should put his thoughts into words. He just found out that Hayato had taken over CEDEF, and he wasn't going to deny not being worried after witnessing his son obviously and adamantly disagreeing with the decision of liquidation. He understood the pros and cons, but to be frankly honest, he wasn't sure what to do, because even Giotto and the first generation had not brought out that matter yet, let alone reaching a consensus over it.

"I still can't believe you would disagree with Tsu-kun over this whole thing, considering how you were when you were younger, never questioning his judgment." G huffed, easing the conversation slowly.

"He gave us the chance for an honest vote," Gokudera tried to defend calmly. "No matter how many times I think about it, it's just too troublesome."

"I gotta say, I'm surprised too," G flicked his cigarette to break the ash. "It was almost funny that you took this side with only Mukuro and Kyouya. I'm not surprised the three of you would have the strongest opinions about it though."

"Well, it's not like the other side's opinions were any weaker." Gokudera blew smoke through his nose, and then bit his lip. "Would you have decided to go with it or against it?"

"I don't know," G answered honestly, shaking his head. "I don't know what would be better for you."

Gokudera glanced at him, but didn't say anything.

"If we go along with that decision, you would still be born in the mafia world." G stared at the burning of his cigarette.

"But you would be with me," Gokudera grounded, searching the eyes of his father.

G finally looked over to him, meeting his gaze. "Yeah, but I could also lose that vote like you did."

Gokudera nodded, closed his eyes and heaved a deep breath.

G patted his son's back, before gripping his shoulder. "You're a whole lot better than me, Hayato. In fact, all of you kids are amazing. You'll be fine."

Giotto and Tsuna made the best of their private time together, enjoying tea in the balcony of Giotto's office. For the past hour, his son had been talking non-stop about Kyoko, his bride. How he met her, why he liked her so much, how he told her the truth about the mafia, how she was targeted by the enemies and protected by him. He also spoke of the family, the trials and tribulations of being a mafia Boss, and his ever-so-troublesome guardians. Their reliable allies, their formidable enemies, and how they made peace with them all. Giotto later figured out that Tsuna had apparently inherited his infamous Vongola charm, if his 'winning a war with just a smile' was anything to go by.

Oh, how he wished to have seen it all.

Giotto knew for sure that Tsuna was an amazing Boss, no doubt about that. But he still couldn't help but worry. "Are you... really sure about this?"

"There's no changing my mind, Papa." Tsuna knew his father was talking about the liquidation.

"But you could fail... you could lose," Giotto was honestly scared to death. It was that very same decision that started all of this, even he wasn't sure if he'd push through with it himself. "What happened to us could happen to you... to your child."

"Believe me, Papa. I know that more than you," Tsuna was determined and calm, smiling softly with clear understanding. "History could repeat itself for as many times as it takes, and we will continue to make the same decision for as long as we believe it's best."

"Spoken like a true Boss," Giotto couldn't help openly marveling at his son.

"I learned from the best," Tsuna giving his father a meaningful nod. "I have to admit though, I do feel as if I should be, if not a little scared, but I'm not... I feel completely at ease, because of you, Papa. To me, you are like the great sky... so you were with me, always."

Giotto wanted to say how much he wished he felt the same, but he didn't want to dampen his son's resolve. So instead, he nodded and secretly made a decision for himself.

"Papa, this should be the last time we see each other," Tsuna smiled sadly.

"No, we'll see each other again." Giotto smiled confidently, his own resolve flowing through. "And when that time comes, you'll be my baby."

Tsuna's eyes widened at the meaning, and then gently smiled with almost teary eyes. "Yeah, I can't wait."

With this kind of arrangement, both Giotto and Tsuna knew things were going to be different from however they hope it would be. Giotto would have a son, and that son would probably not have the memories of himself in the future where he traveled into the past. As for Tsuna, nothing should be changed. But if he's father would be able to change his destiny, then from the very beginning he wouldn't have been his father at all. No, of course he was. "I'm so happy I met you, Papa."

Giotto responded by standing and going over his son to hug him, they were standing in equal height now. He then pulled away, held his son's face and looked into his eyes. "Me too, and we'll meet again."

Tsuna nodded. "We'll meet again."

That night, Giotto and his guardians held a meeting after dinner. He had been thinking over and over again about the liquidation, but it wasn't until Tsu-kun's last visit that he realized the decision presented itself not with them, but with Tsu-kun. The reason the mere idea of it never even presented itself in the slightest, was because it wasn't their decision in the first place, it was Tsu-kun's. The decision of their kids to liquidate Vongola was what spurred them on to making the same choice, and ultimately brought about the consequences that their children in the future had to endure, which was the very same reason they came up with the decision in the first place. It was a paradox.

Now the question is, can they break the cycle?

Daemon cleared his throat to speak, breaking the thickening tension. "Before anything else, I'd like to announce something."

He managed to break everyone's line of thought, waiting for Giotto's nod of approval before continuing.

"I received a phone call from Elena earlier," Daemon sighed, looking up to meet everyone in the eye before finishing. "She's pregnant... Mukuro will be born in nine months."

Silence.

"Well... uhm," Giotto coughed. "Congratulations!"

"Yeah, that's..." Knuckles had to pause due to the awkwardness. "-great news to the extreme!"

Honestly it sounded more like a question, and it didn't help that almost all of them seemed to have a troubled look on their faces.

Even Asari who kept nodding enthusiastically beside him, who chose to keep his mouth shut.

"Thanks for the support," Daemon frowned at all of them.

Lampo looked beside him towards Alaude. "But then, that means..."

"Based on their ages, Alaude's next." G muttered under his breath.

And Alaude all but glared at him for even mentioning it.

"All right, then," Giotto tried to gather everyone's bearings. "I guess that makes this a good time as any to bring about the long-awaited discussion."

They all looked through one another's faces, searching for any answer to questions they'd rather not be asked. Not one of them was certain.

"Let's take a vote, and then explain our reasons."

To flourish, or to perish?

The End.

AN:

Okay, this is really the end of this fic as I imagined it before I even begun writing. An open ending, yes. Because I couldn't decide which would be better. I thought I'd get enough ideas before it reaches the end, but now that I'm here, I still haven't got any.

Anyway, there are only three possible endings to this fic, and I will let you choose:

1.) The first generation will win the great battle and live the rest of their lives with their kids. The future Tsuna and his guardians will have come from a parallel world instead.

2.) The first generation will lose the great battle and die. The future that Tsuna and his guardians came from will have come true.

3.) The first generation will not push through with the liquidation, and live with their kids in the mafia.  Again, the future Tsuna and his guardians will have come from a parallel world instead.

I'm still not sure if I'll ever get to write an epilogue though, I would if I could just make up my mind. xD

And that's it! Thanks for bearing with me until now! This fic was published 3 years ago on this very same day! So, for all of those who are still here, many thanks!

Please review! :3

— Lynx

20170108

[rosemariethb-blog]

bigass milf - 8 Ways Mature Footjobs Can Drive You Bankrupt - Fast!

The rain had been falling for three days. Captain Storwick and his men knew better than to risk voyage during a storm like this. They had landed in port that morning before the worst of it hit and he had spent the day drinking at the tavern. The roast fowl hit the spot but now he had an itch that good food and strong drink couldn't fix. "Dalvin! Go out and find Mama Lou and bring in the whores." a raucous cheer went up from the crew as the first mate brought in the barkeep. Mama Lou had been a bar whore in the port city of Lampos since Captain Storwick was a cabin boy. She had killed the previous owner of the bar when he tried to fuck her in the arse instead of the cunt. Everyone knew Mama Lou didn't take it up the stinker like most whores. She had grown fat in her old age and now she would give you a yanker if the coin was right. She usually kept a few girls around the place though and usually they were clean enough. Mama Lou had skin the color of good coffee - deep dark brown - and her eyes danced with delight at the sight of Captain Storwick. "Good Captain it's been a long time. Come to let Mama jerk your mast like she did when you were with the Phantom?" The Captain's cock twitched beneath his trousers but it wasn't the old woman he wanted. Back then she had been a smooth skinned island girl and he a hard bodied cabin boy but now they were old and gray and he yearned for the smooth skin of youth. "Your girls&... bring them to me." She nodded and without another word she left only to return with three girls. The first was too fat and he sent her over to the crew with a small purse of coin. The 2nd smelled as if she hadn't bathed in days - just the way his First Mate liked it so she went to him. Number three had seen her fair share of winters. She probably used to be pretty - blonde hair and blue eyes - but the seasons and sea had worn her down. Another one for the crew. "Is there no one else? Some one&... younger?" He fingered his mustache and looked into the eyes of his once lover. "A hairless cunt for the Captain, aye, I have a girl that fits your fancy. Came to us with the last shipment of spice - scared and wet and alone. She's never been touched by man or beast. She will cost you extra." His eyes shown with excitement, "How much extra" "10,000 quid for her mouth 20 more for her cunt 20 more for her stinker." The Captain sat up in his chair and the crew stopped their fun to see how he would answer, "50,000 for a single girl!? What is she an Elf!?" The crew laughed out loud and went back to their whores. "Half actually&..." You could have heard a pin drop. The Captain stared with his mouth agape, "You find a half-elf and you turn her into a whore? Fuck Lou you have some balls you nasty old slut. The council?" "The council doesn't know and they won't if you keep your rotten mouth shut. Now&... shall I fetch her or no?" Captain Storwick had his cock out before she finished ,"Bloody hell you better fetch her. Dalvin stop fucking that stinking whore and fetch 50,000 quid from me chest in the room. I'm fucking an elf boys!" The crew let out a loud cheer and went back to the whores the captain had paid for. Mama Lou lead her into the room&... a tiny thing of a girl wrapped in a pink silk gown with white cherry blossoms embroidered on it. Her white gold hair hung just below her shoulders and her skin was naturally tan. Mama Lou lead her past the crew and over to the Captain. "Dara this is Captain Storwick. He Captains the "Eleanor" - the big ship harbored at our port." Her eyes shown for a brief second and she looked up at Mama Lou with a childish glee, "The one you promise to take me to see?" "Yes child, see how good Mama is to you? I brought you their Captain. Go with him now child and do what he asks. Just like we talked about okay?" When the Captain stood and took Dara by the hand she stared at his exposed cock. The Captain smiled and lead her to his room. He sat her on the bed and walked over to the chair in the corner of the room. She wrapped her arms around herself and shivered. "Are you cold girl?" She nodded and looked at the floor. The Captain stood and walked over and lit the corner fire place. He stood and drew the curtains to the lone window in the room letting the light in. The rain beat against the pane and outside a beggar in a tattered hood stood huddled against the side of the building. Captain Storwick turned to face Dara then sat back down in the chair. "Stand up for me girl." She timidly stood still looking down at the floor. He stroked his cock and let his thumb rub against the tip a few times. "Take off your clothes for me." She let the gown fall to the floor. Her skin was milky white and smooth. Puffy light pink nipples stood at attention on small perky tits. Her cunt was almost hairless save for a small patch of golden hair. The Captain had never seen something so beautiful as her. She looked up from the floor for the first time since they entered and let her hands dangle by her side giving him a better look at her nubile body. She slowly walked over to the chair and knelt in front of him. "Mama told me how to do it&.... should I?" The Captain took his hands off his cock and caressed her soft cheek. She took him into her mouth - just the head at first then the whole shaft down her throat before bobbing back up for air. I'll have to tip Mama Lou extra for being such a good teacher he thought as she took him down her throat again. Her tiny hand wrapped around his balls and the other stroked his shaft as she licked up and down the head of his cock. He reached out for her tits and fondled her pink nipples. He pulled her to her feet and pushed her toward the bed. She knew what was next and bent over the cold mattress in anticipation. Captain Storwick ripped his shirt off revealing the bronze key on a silver chain he kept hung around his neck. Her pussy was glistening wet and he nearly came when she reached back and rubbed her waiting slit. "Please be gentle sir&... I've never&... " The Captain had never been one for mercy. You don't get the moniker "Stone Heart Storwick" for caring about the feelings of whores - no matter how young and beautiful. He shoved his manhood as hard and deep as he could as she cried out in pain. He grabbed her hair and yanked her head back. His other hand wrapped around her throat to use as a handle as he fucked her harder and harder. Tears streamed down her face and onto the bare mattress. Her little cunny clinched tight around his cock and he could feel her burst into orgasm. He had to pull out as the feeling of her cumming nearly sent him over the edge. He wanted to enjoy every bit of this that he could and at his age once you pull the trigger it's hard to reload the old cannon. He knelt behind her and licked her sopping wet love hole. He spread her cheeks and she jumped in surprise as he slid the tip of his finger in her bum. He had to taste it too. He shoved his tongue up her ass hole as far as he could causing her knees to tremble and her to moan. He stood and laid on the mattress. "Ride my cock girl&..." She straddled him, guiding his cock toward her waiting pussy. She rubbed the head against her waiting pussy lips before sliding down on it completely. She moaned as she bounced up and down on his pink mast. Then she reached behind her and cupped his balls. She gave them a little tug and lifted them enough to get her fingers below. She rubbed her middle finger against his asshole and a moan escaped the Captain's dry lips. She plunged her finger inside him and could feel him thrust deeper inside him. He was on the verge of bursting and was trying to hold back. He wanted more. A second finger joined the first and sent him over the edge. She could feel the head of his cock throbbing inside her as he filled her up with hot cum. She slid off and finished him with her mouth. He pumped two more spurts in her warm mouth before he finished and she let it dribble down her chin for him to see. She crawled up beside him and for the first time since they met she placed a kiss on his dry lips. He didn't feel the blade she had slipped from under the pillow until the blood was pouring out of his gaping neck. His gurgled cries for help were muffled by a pillow. He tried to fight back but when your throat has been cut from ear to ear and you have a pillow shoved against your face. His death throws were quick and his bowels emptying on the mattress were indicative that the dear Captain was no more. Dara took the key from his neck and draped it over hers. Should you have any kind of concerns relating to where as well as tips on how to work with black milf pounded, you are able to call us on our own web site. Only one thing missing now. The razor sharp blade sliced through his cock like hot butter. She turned and walked over to the window where she opened the shutters and imitated the call of a bird of paradise. The bum huddled in the corner through back his hood and a deeply scarred face smiled up at her. He positioned himself directly under the window and she fell gracefully into his arms. His massive arms were so warm and as he wrapped her in the cloak and raised the hood over her silky blonde hair to hide her from the rain. She stuffed the severed cock in the pocket of the hood as they trotted down the road to the harbor. Mama Lou would be in to check the room in less than 20 minutes. Just enough time to reach the Mantis and make sail. Part 2 coming soon! MyAssYourFace2

[ciaossu-imagines]

Any HC about how Knuckle is/interacts with the members the family?

Of course, my dear! I love headcanons like that! Thank you so much for the request and I hope you’ll enjoy the headcanons!

Knuckle interacts very differently with the other Guardians before he enters into the priesthood, being more aggressive and rough with them. After becoming a priest though and upon maturing, he becomes a little less rough and rowdy, though he’ll always be full of energy. He takes an active interest in each Guardian and he’ll serve as priest to those religious family members, hearing their confessions and giving them godly advice as needed (it’s often good advice, though a little forcefully given and clumsily worded). Even those non-religious family members often find Knuckle, especially after he’s matured, listening to their problems without judgment, being their confidante. It was known within the family that if you needed good advice and help with serious, big issues, you went to Giotto, but for all tiny secrets and little grievances, all personal faults and weaknesses, and little worries, you went to Knuckle, who’d hear them all and never judge you for them, though he might suggest saying a couple Hail Mary’s now and then.

Knuckle is extremely close to Giotto. The man has helped him though a lot and has always supported him and believed in him. When Knuckle was first assigned his church, Giotto made sure to attend the service every week and to bring folks in with him, simply to introduce them to Knuckle, sure that the other man would be able to charm them into return visits with no problem. Giotto gave Knuckle a purpose and a dream again after Knuckle’s accident in the boxing ring and for that Knuckle feels like he can never repay him, though Giotto thinks nothing of it. Knuckle’s fiercely protective of his boss, but he isn’t above lecturing the other man, who is younger than him after all. If Knuckle has an opinion or thinks that Giotto is being too timid in something, he’ll let him know without a moment’s hesitation.

G. and Knuckle bicker like brothers do. Though they’re often at each others throats, the two men share a close bond and care about the other. Knuckle’s always after G. to take better care of himself, both physically and spiritually and it’s often what the two of them fight over. That, or G. telling Knuckle that he’s being an idiot about something again. But despite how angry he is at G. or how busy he is, if G. needs him, Knuckle’s always right there and vice versa. 

While Lampo will respect Giotto the most, will rely on G. the most, he’ll like Knuckle the most. Knuckle never gets on the younger boy’s case too much and when he does, it’s gentler chiding. Knuckle has always liked kids and that’s what Lampo is to him, almost taking the place of the kid brother that Knuckle always wanted. Lampo always finds it easiest to relax when he’s around Knuckle and when he gets in trouble that isn’t serious enough to trouble G. with (and by extension, Giotto), Knuckle is the first person he turns to. Knuckle is privy to a lot of Lampo’s tiny little secrets and fancies and feelings, so it’s likely that’s why he can handle the boy better than most of the other Guardians can.

It’s funny - Knuckle and Alaude fought like the dickens in their younger days. There were heated, bloody battles between the two of them. Maybe that’s why there’s so much respect between the two of them as adults. However, Knuckle still gets upset at Alaude quite often and Alaude is always the one to get the priest worked up, especially when the other man acts completely unreasonable and antisocial, at least in Knuckle’s opinion.Knuckle will always try to rope Alaude into friendly get-togethers though, with varying success.

Knuckle never understood Daemon and never quite trusted him. He always tried to make friends with the other man but never could quite get there. Of all the Guardians, Daemon was the only one that Knuckle was never completely comfortable around and the only one that never came to see him at his church.

[poetyca]

Artisti

Artisti

A volte essere artisti permette di anticipare, oltre che di partecipare, attraverso un percepire sensibile che non tutti sanno comprendere. Il dover manifestare, colorare con parole o colori da imprimere sulla tela, con note che dovranno seguire un certo ritmo, non è nulla di studiato, è come essere attraversati da un lampo improvviso ( l’ispirazione) che plasma o usa come mezzo l’artista stesso. Sono persone sensibili, in ricerca di armonia, in ascolto attraverso l’intuito e quella compassione che è partecipazione, a volte non espressa in modo plateale. La voce dell’artista è prima di tutto ascolto non solo di sè ma anche di quanto tenga in contatto ogni altro essere, il tutto che non reca differnze tra la propria sofferenza o la propria gioia e quella degli altri.

20.06.2014 Poetyca

  Artists

Sometimes be artists allows to anticipate, as well as to participate, through a sensitive sense to understand that not everyone knows. The need to express, color words or color imprint on the canvas, with notes that will have to follow a certain pattern, it’s nothing studied, it’s like being crossed by a sudden flash (the inspiration) that plasma or use as a medium the artist himself. They are sensitive people, in search of harmony, listening through the insight and compassion that is participation, sometimes expressed not so blatant. The voice of the artist is first of all listening not only to themselves but also to what keep in touch every other being, everything that does not bear differnze between their own suffering or your own joy and that of others.

20/06/2014 Poetyca

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[onceabluemoonwrites]

Got A Feeling (Giotto's Crushin' All Time High)

Fandom: Katekyo Hitman Reborn

Pairing: GiottoCozart

Summary: Trip to Japan! Of course nobody took Giotto’s Bigger-Than-His-Head-AND-Ego crush on Cozart into account…  Also known as: How to plan your wedding while still in denial.

Warnings: De Nile is not just a river in Egypt and Giotto’s outrageous crush

Disclaimer: I don’t own Katekyo Hitman Reborn.

Post with links to AO3 & FF.net: here.

Throwing the panels to the side with less care than advised, Giotto flung himself into the main room.

‘’Do not fear, for I am here!’’ Pose one, pose two aaaaaand supermegafoxyawesomehot ending pose!

Dayum! The last pose’s awesomeness materialized out of nowhere like a ninja in the night! Except ninja weren’t supposed to appear, they should be invisible and weren’t even half as fabulous and- Giotto would contemplate this when he wasn’t waiting for the applause. His arm was starting to burn.

No standing ovation yet. Didn’t they know it was okay to clap? Waving to prompt them, he opened his eyes.  

G sighed, Asari blinked, Alaude took a sip of his tea, Knuckle frowned, Lampo didn’t lift his head from the floor and Daemon just raised an eyebrow. Elena…

Elena was muffling laughter.

Slumping, Giotto pouted. ‘’When Cozart walks in, everybody shouts ‘Simon-san!’.  Why can’t you do that for the resident sugarplum too?’’

Daemon inclined his head, stroking the cat on his lap. ‘’We’re sorry. Try again.’’

His guardians were the best! Beaming, Giotto hurried outside, closed the door, and threw it open again with one grand, sweeping gesture.

‘’Do not fear, for I am here!’’ And… Pose! Wink, wink!

‘’Simon-san!’’

Giotto hid his cheeks in his hands- oh god, he felt so loved! Even Alaude and Lampo had sounded enthusiastic, and they even managed to do it in unison! Oh, how great to hear his nam-

Wait a minute.

Giotto’s hands fell as he straightened up, jutting out his chest. ‘’I have never been this insulted in my-oh.’’

They had called him Simon-san. As in Cozart Simon. As in Mr. Cozart Simon, happily married on his way to happily ever after with his beloved. As in, the guy Giotto might have a teeny, tiny crush on, which was totally not taking his life over, no matter what G said!

‘’Never mind. I’m perfectly happy being called Simon-san. Joyous, even!’’

Giddily, he floated out of the room. He had a letter to write! All those kisses at the end of his latest heart-covered letter weren’t going to add themselves!

As the door slid shut behind him, Lampo gagged. ‘’Kill me now.’’  

‘’Agreed.’’

Aww, they had the talking in unison down! Cozart would not believe how cute his future step-children were!