#saying this out loud in the aviary and watching all the guys prepare to go into battle to see who gets to go first

[umemiyan]

what's a girl gotta do to get a creampie around here

[soranihimawari]

who yuu loves

tagging: @smolbludandelions @m0nstergeneration20xx and anyone who loves the 5 W’s series event

|masterlist| >>

of all things to walk into, you were not expecting the bird you raised since it had long since been abandoned by it’s flock, to fly into the noisy gymnasium of your high school. classes had long since ended, but the boys volleyball club had an important match coming up, so you remembered takeda-sensei mentioning something about not having homework from his class for that day.

it wasn’t until you had arrived home and decompress that you found yourself climbing the fire escape of your parents’ apartment building to pay a visit to the birds you took care of. one of the oldest birds you took care of had been in your care since you turned twelve; he was a young crow hatchling whom you affectionally called ‘little brother.’ your mother had been terrified when you came home from middle school with a baby bird nuzzled against your neck, your father, on the other hand (who by trade was a vetenarian), shook his head.

“another one?” he asked once he noticed his wife staring daggers and mouthing something along the lines of ‘do something, she’s your kid too.’

“mmhm! i’m going to call him onii-chan since i don’t have a real one yet,” you said. the bird squawked in approval. you left your parents in the dining room after you took your leave and started to head toward the aviary up on the roof your building.

you said your greeting salutations for the flock while opening the cage of the aviary your father built during the summer you turned thirteen. your mother had given in through a series of compromise once she realized your love for your ‘onii-chan’ was the first of five crow siblings you’d surround yourself with in the days of your childhood.

since then, you were known amongst the neighborhood to be the girl with a murder flock. there were nasty rumors floating about you as you grew up and every school year, you were thankful you had two members of a certain sports club remained in your homeroom class after you began your first year at karasuno high school. nishinoya yuu and tanaka ryuunoske had similar personalities to a few of your feathery siblings once you got to know them in your first year attending karasuno. you also met the rest of the team formally during one of the practice matches prior to the start of your second year.

flash forward to this afternoon, you found yourself running back to campus after you explained to your mother beloved ‘onii-chan’ flew out of the cage probably because although you thought you heard the cage door shut, the lock must have finally fallen off. you had trained that bird through a series of conditioning encouragement treats the flight path to karasuno high. luckily, you were able to send a rushed text message to your two friends. with a blow of a whistle echoing throughout the walls of the gym, all talking ceased once you heard one of your senpai’s say, “there’s a bird in here.”

tanaka elbowed his best friend in the rib rather hard when the bird let out a raw squak.

“oi, noya, doesn’t that bird look like...?”

“shit, it is!” noya exclaimed excited upon glancing at the direction the bird call came from. after seeing your onii-chan with his best bud over the time he was suspended, noya knew you were close by. it was during this time too that noya had been called out for being a simp for two women and two women only: the goddess manager (kiyoko-senpai) and the queen of the northern sky (your nickname on his phone was always followed by a bird emoji & a cloud). tanaka, along with the rest of the second years who finally returned back to the folds of the team, had a boys night only sleepover called out noya for having a huge crush on you. noya couldn’t ever hide the ways his eyes lit up whenever you were within his line of sight, like right now when he saw your onii-chan flew past the highest point of his spiky hair.

“you two know this bird in particular?” sawamura-san, the captain of the team that year, asked them after the bird took its leave and settled on the railings of the second floor of the gym.

“not a bird captain-senpai,” you said in between catching your breath. the crow let out a triumphant caw. you tilt your head to the side to raise your forearm above your head. the bird flew toward your arm and perched itself there. you moved the bird to your shoulder with a soft smile.

“sorry if my onii-chan interrupted your practice guys,” you said, petting the bird under its beak. when your breathing finally returned to it’s natural rhythm, you had a cute grin strewn over your features when you placed your hands in your jacket pockets. “guess we’ll be going then. see you in class tomorrow noya. bye tanaka!”

there was another commotion altogether once you were off campus grounds.

“what a woman,” noya thought he said that to himself, unaware of his inability to control his vocal volume. he nearly combust on the spot because you named him first in your farewell. tanaka on the other hand had thought his spirit escape his body via his mouth when he saw you spoke so informally at their captain.

other members of the team made mocking kissing noises to tease their libero and their outside hitter.

“alright alright. enough of a break, let’s get back to work,” daichi instructed with loud clap.

“daichi, i don’t think we can,” his vice-captain states, nodding his head to the side of the court where noya.exe had stopped working.

the first and second years surrounded their teammates in a semi-circle.

“say noya,” ennoshita begins while folding his arms over his chest. there is a mischievous glint in his eyes. suddenly the other second years chuckle recalling the sleepover rankings of beauties in their year. “y/n-san is really pretty now that we’ve seen her in those yoga pants and tangerine jumper...”

that compliment broke noya’s brain even further. he was so close to coming back to reality and then with what ennoshita mentioned, the karasuno libero’s jaw went slack.  

“noya-senpai’s face is really red right now!” hinata yelled.

“where’s the first aid kit? tanaka stopped breathing too!” yamaguchi exclaimed while their new manager in training, yachi, handed him the small box.

one thing was certain, nishinoya was not going to give up pursuing you because after all, you were the one who he loves most.

when you climbed back up on the fire escape to reach the roof that evening, you replayed the events of the shenanigans your onii-chan pulled the an hour ago. you thought nothing of it as you prepared to close the aviary for the night after to scatter the evening seed blend for their dinner. your onii-chan fluttered about to his side of the cage, his ebony eyes sassing you about seeing your crush nearly passing out from what you opted to wear sans hoodie in that brisk spring evening rushing out the door when you realize that he broke out.

“don’t look at me like that chibi-chan,” you say in a chastising tone.

the trouble maker sqwaked a resounding “uh-huh.”

“it was worth seeing noya’s adorable face though, haha,” you glance at the bird again. “besides, you like him too so don’t start. g’night boys.”

after you climbed back down from the fire escape and back into your kitchen window, you bid your parents good night explaining to parents you needed to read the next few chapters for your classic literature class taking your curry bowl into your room.

the following morning, your alarm rung at six in the morning. you decided to scatter the bird food for your feather-clad brothers in arms. when your brain decided to remember the look noya and tanaka gave you when your adopted crow-brother perched on your arm, you chuckle to yourself, wrapping your wool scarf around your neck (your hair was slicked back by a headband) .

“today’s white day boys,” you whisper watching your breath hover in the frosty air. “who am i kidding? it’s not like either noya or tanaka wants to risk ruining our dynamic.”

as soon as you said that, you shook your head to clear the jumbling daydream of your ever slightly growing affections for the two of them.

“wish me luck & try not to escape this time, mmk?”

—later that morning—

when you arrived at karasuno’s campus grounds, you saw that someone left something in your personal locker. there was a post-it note with noya’s handwriting on it; his handwriting was a bit rushed judging by the smear on the date in the corner.

ʍąɾçհ 𝟙५, 

հҽɾҽ, վօմ ƒօɾցօէ էհìʂ ահҽղ վօմ Ӏҽƒէ էհҽ ցվʍ Ӏąʂէ ղìցհէ Ӏօѵҽ. 

-վօմɾ ցմąɾժìąղ ժҽìէվ

“hah,” you coo. “only you.”

after you read the note, a blush formed under the corners of your eye. using your dominiant hand, you reached back into the locker and trace a finger over the ivory kanji stitching on the team jacket. the faint scent of the gentle rain shower fabric softener reached your nose, you hugged the gift. 

when the first period bell rang, you shimmy out of your school sweater literally buzzing with excitement and put on noya’s team jacket. you pushed up the sleeves before you take your leave wandering into your classroom to view an ecstatic libero practically fainting on the spot while his best friend (and by default yours too) giving the buddhistivva face of prayer.

you stopped by noya’s desk thanking him for the jacket by planting a fleeting kiss on his cheek prior to your home room teacher coming in and you took the utmost pleasure in watching noya physically short circuit during roll call.

___________________________________________________________

noya’s letter in default font:

march 14,

here, you forgot this when you left the gym last night, love.

-your guardian deity

____________________________________________________________

tagging: @smolbludandelions & @m0nstergeneration20xx others looking for nishinoya fluff.

inspiration collage from various Pinterest arts & all content belongs to their original creators:

[prismarine-parrots]

Tree of Life Pt.5 (1)

Originally posted: 20 Mar. 2019

:)

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3

Part 3.5

Part 4

Part 5 (2)

"What is Doc doing again?" Mumbo asked out loud. His phone had been vibrating in his trouser pockets consistently for the past two minutes, most of the messages being from Doc, who had been doing something or another.

"Setting up a beacon on the roof so that there's regen up there for when we try to heal Grian. Most of the other trees have beacons around them and Ren went to go make sure those had regen on them too." Jevin replied, not taking his eyes off the brewing potions.

"He sure is chatty then," Mumbo grumbled and slipped his phone out of his pocket.

<DocM77> Guys, there's phantoms up here

<Rendog> you got it man? I'm too far to help

<DocM77> yeah I think I'm good

<Iskall85> tell me and I'll head back to help

<joehillssays> don't lead them into the base! We don't need any more catastrophes to plague our misfortune

<DocM77> ok maybe I don't got it

<DocM77> he

DocM77 was slain by phantom

DocM77 died.

Mumbo stared at the message on the screen.

"Doc is gone too," he said blankly.

Jevin looked over from setting up the next brewing stand. "No way!"

"Phantom got him," Mumbo informed. Jevin's shocked expression hardened and he silently glared at the potions with a misplaced fury.

There was a disparaging silence throughout the base as this fact set in.

Mumbo sighed wearily and looked out at the night sky over the ocean around Grian's base. He had stayed behind after the first deaths, both of which happened within the first twenty-four of Grian's. TFC has been in his bunker when he died, so no one had thought that he might have been in trouble until the death message appeared on their phones. Jevin had come in panicked halfway through a serverwide meeting saying that he was late because Wels had fallen ill and wasn't waking up, and just as soon as they got back to the medieval/industrial district border, their phones went off. False hadn't seemed to have been affected at first, but as the hermits were gathering supplies to go on a journey to look for a cure she had fallen to the ground, dropped dead. After that the remaining hermits had left across the ocean and Mumbo had been left to watch over the others. It had been depressing, watching his phone, because at any moment there could have been another death message meaning that they had lost another hermit. Zedaph and xbCrafted, who had joined the server randomly, both died as well. When this finally happened with Scar, Mumbo had been crushed, because then all the optimists were gone and it seemed like a hopeless mission. Soon after, Cub returned to Mumbo's base and the redstoner had been attempting to comfort him as well as keep and eye on everything else going on while the rest of the server was away. There were death messages for Tango and Python, and while that had been the last of it, Xisuma was now ill after Evil X (WHY did they decide to work with that guy?) died and the glitch started working on him as well.

Now the travelers had returned and they were all waiting around Grian's base, as it had the most space and was closest to the center of the server AKA the shopping district. They were occupying the upper floors of the wedding cake, as no one could bring themselves to disturb Grian's pale and still body on his bed among the shulker boxes, laid to rest there until they figured out if they could heal him or not and then bury him properly.

The strange bubbling noise from the first brewing stand stopped.

Mumbo and Jevin, the two operating the potions, looked to each other then to the brewing stands.

"They're done!"

"They're done?"

Jevin nearly bounced to the stands and took one of each of the two types of potion in his hands. A potion of harming, and a splash potion of regeneration. The other stands taken from Cub's war store were still bubbling away, but the one set was all they needed for now. The slime man slowly slowly turned with a soft smile and the first hopeful look Mumbo had seen in a while.

"We need to try this ASAP."

Mumbo nodded firmly. "Grian. I'll get the others." He jumped through the hole in the floor to the layer below. "We have something!"

"Have you tried it yet?!" Xisuma immediately demanded. He was slouching against one of the three pillars, helmet off and his skin was clammy and pale, but he was still alert and concerned.

"X, save your strength!" Joe scolded. X rolled his eyes and pushed against the wall, groaning but still able to move.

Mumbo helped X stand up and allowed him to lean on him and they made their way over to the water elevator as Joe called to the others on the other floors and flew up to the aviary as well.

Everyone was gathered around the tree.

"I think Grian's looks the worst of all the ones that I've seen..." Ren sighed worriedly. He had been flying around the server, checking on everyone's trees. He had returned just before Mumbo and Jevin has finished the potions with his report: that most the trees were at various stages of decay. It was only a matter of time before everyone on the server faced this same fate as well. What he found strange though, is that some of the trees of the dead hermits were healthier than some of the living. Zedaph's tree was healthier than Xisuma's, but X was still alive while Zed was not.

Joe was looking spooked. "I can't believe Doc got taken right at the resolution..." he murmured. "What a tragedy this has become, a massacre with no murderer, a-"

Ren huffed. "Joe. Now isn't the time for poetry. Do I look worried? No! When this works on Grian I'm going to go straight to Doc's base and fix him up as well. Everything will be a-okay."

Joe didn't look quite convinced, but stayed silent. There was an awkward moment of quiet as the survivors looked to one another, unsure of what to do next.

"Do we just try it?" Impulse asked.

Cleo shrugged. "I guess so."

Jevin kneeled down next to the decayed red maple and uncorked the potion or harming. The process they were using was basically the same as purifying a zombie villager- use something to weaken the tree, then something to heal it. Instead of a golden apple they were using the healing effect of a beacon and the most powerful regeneration potion they could make.

"I hope this works..." Stress murmured with Iskall nodding beside her.

There was a painful hiss as the harming potion hit the roots of the tree. The entire tree immediately shriveled, although there wasn't much left of it as it was. A few more discolored leaves fell off the barren branches.

Jevin backed up and handed the healing potion to Mumbo.

"I think you should," the slime man explained. Mumbo looked down at the potion before nodding.

"Alright then," the man in the suit uncorked the frail bottle and prepared to throw it. Mumbo looked determined at his target, but paused.

What is this doesn't work? What if it's too late for Grian? What will happen then? What will happen to the others?

"Mumbo, you alright?" Joe asked. Mumbo shook his head.

"Yeah, just... never mind."

The mustached man threw the potion and backed up, not wanting to take any of the effects of the potion. The potion shattered against the truck of the tree, dark pink liquid splattering into the crevices in the bark and the particles erupting from all over. They mixed with the dark red particles and quickly changed to a black, which made the gathered hermits panic, before they changed to a brilliant gold.

Just like that, life returned to Grian's tree. The hermits watched in fascination as brilliant red leaves bloomed from nothing on the branches and the peeling bark healed. The large branches that had fallen off started to regrow, although they also had the rings of scarring that trees had when a limb was cut off. The dead materials still littered the ground, but with joyous relief the humans' forms relaxed at the magic worked.

Where's Grian? Mumbo thought to himself in concern. This is for nothing if Grian isn't back. Please, let him be okay, I just want my friend...

At sea level, someone lurched into a sitting position from their bed and heaved in huge, panicked gasps of air. It felt as if he had been drowning, yet he last remembered nothing of the sort.

In fact, what he last remembered concerned him greatly.

What HAPPENED?!

Without hesitation he leapt onto his bed and bounced slightly, just enough air to launch a firework and shoot through the layers of his base.

"Grian?" Impulse was the first to say the name everyone had been thinking.

"His tree is revived, he should be too," Ren said uncertainly, "and so should every one else. They have to."

Please, please... Mumbo pleaded in his mind. If there is SOME power out there that has caused this, please let it stop. Let Grian and everyone else be alright.

Silence.

A quiet whisper.

Fireworks?

A blur zoomed past through the hole in the roof before disappearing for a moment and diving back down.

Mumbo held his breath, knowing who it was, but still scared that his eyes might be deceiving him.

"Guys! I'm here, what happened?! I remember being sick and then my tree was sick and then you guys- well, some of you- were there and then-"

"GRIAN!" Iskall and Mumbo yelled at the same time and the Swede hugged the builder. Grian laughed and returned the hug and quickly clasped Mumbo on the back.

"I'm here, but can SOMEONE explain to me what happened?? I'm very confused," he announced.

Ren was whooping and Jevin and Xisuma both looked relieved. Cleo hugged Grian as well and Joe was jumping around him, reciting fancy words excitedly so that while no one understood what he was saying, the emotion got across.

"Grian!"

Impulse marched over and punched the builder in the shoulder.

"Ow!" Grian yelped, now gripping his shoulder and glaring at Impulse. "What was that for?"

"One, for pulling this on us. Two, to make sure you were alive. And three-"

"Why wouldn't I be alive? I'm standing right here!"

Impulse clapped Grian on the back with a smile. "Glad to see you alright, man."

"Explain to me please?!"

"I'll explain," Mumbo offered, now smiling from ear to ear, "the rest of us, go grab some potions!"

"Already gone! See you on the other side!" Ren yelled joyfully and dived into Grian's base before shooting up only a few seconds later. The rest of the hermits weren't far behind him, rushing to grab the medicine to help their friends.

"Mumbo, what about Cub?" Iskall asked as he was heading out.

Mumbo gasped. "Right! I'll help him. He's going to be so relieved!"

"What's up with Cub? And Scar? They do everything together?"

"I'll explain on the way, Grian. We're heading to the Country Club."

"We going to go play golf?"

"Nah, I'm heading with the girls to go get False," Iskall informed the other two Architechs, "good luck with Cub! I hope he'll be alright when Scar is back!"

Grian gave Mumbo the most befuddled and mildly concerned look.

[thelastspeecher]

NaNoWriMo ‘17 Day 19 - Birds of a Feather

Day 01   Day 02   Day 03   Day 04   Day 05   Day 06   Day 07   Day 08 Day 09   Day 10   Day 11   Day 12   Day 13   Day 14   Day 15   Day 16 Day 17   Day 18   Day 19   Day 20   Day 21   Day 22   Day 23   Day 24 Day 25   Day 26   Day 27   Day 28   Day 29   Day 30

Summary: A new phoenix joins the flock.  [Phoenix Enchantment AU] Word count: 3042

               Crack!  Angie’s head jerked up.  

               “What was that?” she chirped blearily.  Stan looked over.  

               “I think somethin’ hit the window.”

               “What?”

               “I’ll go check,” Stan said.  He nuzzled her.  “Watch the egg while I’m gone, babe.”

               “You got it,” Angie mumbled. She nestled down again and yawned. Stan looked at his three daughters, who were at the food stand.  

               “Girls, keep an eye on your ma. She’s still weird ‘cause of the pain meds.”

               “Of course, Dad,” Danny chirped.  “We promised we’d help out, since the latest egg was difficult.”

               “Thanks.”  Stan took off.  He flew downstairs, reaching the front door at the same time Fiddleford did.  Stan landed on his brother-in-law’s shoulder.

               “You heard it too?” Fiddleford asked.  Stan bobbed his head.  “Well, let’s see what it was.”  Fiddleford stepped outside.  Spread-eagled on the front porch, visibly severely disoriented, was a male phoenix. Stan felt his feathered crest begin to instinctively rise.  He left Fiddleford’s shoulder and landed next to the stranger.  

               “Buddy, what’s goin’ on here?” Stan squawked.  The phoenix looked at him.

               “Huh?” the phoenix burbled. Stan puffed his feathers up.

               “Look, my kids are too young to get any mates yet, okay?  I don’t know how it works with phoenixes, but I grew up human, so I don’t like the idea of my daughters getting married off when they’re still teens.”

               “I’m not-” the phoenix started.

               “And you better not be here for Angie, either!” Stan cawed. “She’s got a mate already.”

               “Stanley, leave him be!” Fiddleford said.  Stan frowned at Fiddleford.

               “I’ve gotta protect my flock, Fidds!” Stan said firmly.  “Angie’s spoken for, and the girls-”

               “I have no clue what yer sayin’, but ya clearly haven’t recognized this here phoenix,” Fiddleford said.  Stan blinked. “It’s Lute!”

               “What?!” Stan screeched.  He looked back at the stranger.  The phoenix was getting to his feet, stumbling as he did so.  “That can’t be right.”

               “Look at him,” Fiddleford insisted.

               “I mean, yeah, Lute left this mornin’ and we haven’t heard from him, but-”

               “Lord, it’s weird to understand the chirpin’ and squawkin’,” the strange phoenix interrupted.  Stan froze.

               “No fucking way.  Lute?” Stan croaked.  The phoenix nodded.  “How the hell did that happen?”

               “I did what everyone told me not to do,” Lute said softly.  “I went to find a way to break the enchantment.”

               “Lute!” Stan squawked.

               “My baby sister almost died!” Lute screeched.  “She almost died, ‘cause she’s stuck as a bird, and bein’ a bird means layin’ eggs.  And one of her eggs was bound.  Stanley, ya understand how scared and worried I am ‘bout Angie.  Can ya blame me fer tryin’ to fix things?”

               “Even if she was human, childbirth doesn’t always go right,” Stan pointed out.

               “Yeah, but if she was human, she’d have a proper doctor.  She wouldn’t have to go to a vet.”  Lute drooped. “I was so angry, I ignored everything I got told, and now my poor parents have two children who are birds.”

               “The two of ya are clearly havin’ an illuminatin’ conversation,” Fiddleford said, “but I can’t understand any of it.  Stan, mind grabbin’ Molly to translate, since you and Angie won’t be turnin’ human fer a bit?”  Stan nodded. “I’ll bring Lute on in and start checkin’ him over.”  Fiddleford looked Lute up and down.  “Hmm, looks like he might’ve broken a wing.”

               “Go figure,” Lute muttered.

----- 

               Molly walked into the kitchen with Stan on her shoulder.  Ford and Fiddleford were examining a very grumpy Lute on the kitchen table.

               “Can you stretch your wing out for me?” Ford asked.  Lute did as he was told, letting out a small caw of pain.  

               “You guys need a translator?” Molly asked, taking a seat at the table.

               “Howdy, Miss Molly,” Lute croaked weakly.  Molly shook her head.

               “Uncle Lute, you know better.”

               “I was-”

               “Dad told me you were worried about Mom.  But you should’ve talked to us about it!  If you had, you might not be joining the flock.  I mean, I’m kinda glad to have another phoenix around that isn’t my sibling or parent, but there’s no way you’re happy about this.” Lute chirped dejectedly.

               “Wait, what’s goin’ on?” Fiddleford asked.  “Lute got turned into a phoenix ‘cause he was worried ‘bout Angie?”

               “Yeah.  Apparently, he was upset that Mom’s last egg was bound, and it made her so sick.  So he decided to track down a way to get the enchantment undone.”

               “Lute Everett McGucket,” Fiddleford said in a low voice.  “Molly’s right.  Ya do know better!”  Lute cringed. “We warned ya that messin’ with the enchantment wouldn’t end well.  And we told ya that Angie’s fine!  The only thing what made the situation was so scary was ‘cause Angie couldn’t find anyone to translate fer her when things started goin’ wrong with the egg.  Even then, she figured it out, and got the message across.”  Lute looked down at his feet, hunched in on himself.

               “Lay off!” Stan squawked, noticing how Lute was wilting.  Molly winced.

               “Dad, not right in my ear.”

               “Sorry, rooster,” Stan cooed.

               “What did Stan just say?” Ford asked.

               “He wants you guys to stop being so hard on Uncle Lute,” Molly explained.

               “He already feels bad, stop makin’ him feel worse,” Stan added.

               “Uncle Lute already knows he messed up, so you’re just making him feel worse,” Molly said.  Fiddleford sighed.

               “Yer right, Stan.”  Fiddleford stroked Lute’s back.  “Sorry, lil brother.”

               “I really did mess up,” Lute crowed.  “I’m so sorry.”

               “He says he’s sorry.”

               “Aw, Lute, it’s okay.  Yer not the first fam’ly member what’s been turned into a phoenix,” Fiddleford said gently. He grimaced.  “Even though that doesn’t seem like somethin’ we should be so familiar with.  We’ll get ya settled in with the rest of the flock, up in the aviary.”

               “It’s really nice up there,” Molly said.  “Humans might not appreciate it, but Uncle Fidds and Uncle Ford did an excellent job on making it a good ecological match for phoenixes.”  

               “I- I don’t know how to be a phoenix,” Lute said.  

               “What, do you think Angie and I did when we first got turned?” Stan chirped.  “Hell, when Molly hatched, we didn’t know what to do.  We just stared at her until she started screaming, and then we realized she was hungry.”

               “Wait, really?” Molly asked.  She crossed her arms.  “You never told me that story.”

               “What story?” Ford asked.

               “Apparently, Mom and Dad didn’t know what to do when I hatched, until I started making noise, and they figured out I was hungry.”

               “I remember that,” Fiddleford said.  “Lord, the look on Stan and Angie’s faces when they realized ya wouldn’t eat whole food.  Even though we didn’t know Pele and Prometheus were, y’know, people, I still thought it was amusing.  They looked so lost durin’ yer first week of life, Molly.”

               “Why did Stan tell that story?” Ford asked.

               “Uncle Lute says he doesn’t know how to be a phoenix.”  Molly rolled her eyes.  “Honestly, Mom and Dad barely know how to be phoenixes now.  During the first migration, I had to explain to them what was going on, and I was only eight years old!”

               “Once the instincts kick in, things ‘ll be easier,” Stan said reassuringly.  Lute nodded, a bit calmer.

               “All right, looks like a broken wing, fractured rib, and a host of various bumps and bruises,” Ford said.  “We’ll patch you up and then send you to the aviary to recuperate.”

               “Yer goin’ to want to build a nest to relax in,” Fiddleford said to Lute. Lute stared at his older brother.

               “…How do I do that?” Lute asked sheepishly.

               “He asked how you build a nest,” Molly translated.  Fiddleford groaned.  “Uncle Lute, Danny and I can set up a nest for you, since Dad’s gotta take care of Mom.”

               “Thank you, sweetling,” Lute chirped.  

               “It’ll be nice, actually,” Fiddleford said.  “Lute, you can keep Angie company, and Stan can get back to patrollin’ the forest.  Angie’s goin’ to be off the pain meds soon, so she won’t need to be babied no more.  But she’ll still be brooding, so it’ll be lonely up there.”

               “It would be nice to spend some time with my lil sister,” Lute said.

               “Uncle Lute’s on board,” Molly said.  There was a loud squawk from upstairs.  “And Daisy says the dishes in the aviary are out of crickets.”

               “You know where they are,” Ford said.  “You can take care of it yourself.”

               “Fine,” Molly groaned.  She got up and walked over to the fridge to rummage around in it.

               “Goldarn, I have to eat bugs now?” Lute muttered.  Stan shrugged.

               “You get used to it.”

----- 

               Angie yawned and opened her eyes.

               “Mornin’,” Stan chirped at her. Angie smiled.  She nuzzled her mate.

               “Mornin’.  Lord, I slept a lot yesterday, didn’t I?”

               “Yeah, you did.”

               “If you’ll watch the egg fer a bit, I think I’m up fer gettin’ some food,” Angie said.  

               “You got it,” Stan said. Angie hopped onto the edge of the nest and spread out her wings, preparing to take off.  She froze upon catching sight of a strange phoenix dozing fitfully in a nest near the food stand.

               “Who is that?!” Angie screeched. She scrambled back into the nest to cover the egg again.

               “Angie, relax,” Stan said.

               “There’s a stranger in our home! What’s goin’ on?”

               “Chill,” Stan chirped at her.  Angie stared at the strange phoenix.  He was awake now, but hunkered down in the nest in an attempt to make himself as small as possible.

               “How can ya expect me to chill, when there’s someone here we don’t know?  What if he goes after the egg?”

               “Babe, he won’t.”

               “Lord, what if he’s here to court the girls?”

               “What?!” the stranger squawked.

               “Angie, I told ya that Lute was movin’ in with us,” Stan said.  Angie blinked.  

               “…That’s Lute?”

               “Yeah, it is.  He tried to mess with enchantment, and got turned into a phoenix for it.”

               “Lute?” Angie trilled at the phoenix.  Lute nodded.  “What made ya do that?”

               “Yer last two eggs haven’t gone very well,” Lute croaked.  “I wanted to help ya out by turnin’ ya back human.”

               “Oh, Lute,” Angie chirped softly.

               “I told ya about it yesterday,” Stan said to his mate.  “Don’t you remember?”  Angie scratched her cheek with one of her large talons.  

               “I thought that was a dream.  I was pretty loopy yesterday.”

               “I wish it was a dream,” Lute said.  He sighed.  “Fidds said he’s goin’ to call Ma and Pa today, to tell ‘em that two of their children are now birds.”

               “I wonder if Ford ‘ll give ya one of his weird names,” Angie chirped.  “If yer really joinin’ the flock, he prob’ly will.”

               “Yet another thing to look forward to,” Lute drawled sarcastically.  “Bugs, a weird name, bein’ data fer Ford’s research, lessons from my own nieces and nephew-”

               “Lessons?” Angie interrupted.

               “It seems like Lute’s instincts aren’t kicking in like they did for us,” Stan said.  “The girls, Emmett, and I are gonna help him out.  He’s definitely gonna want flying lessons, so that he doesn’t crash into any more windows.”

               “In my defense, I was discombobulated,” Lute said.  There were footsteps on the stairs.

               “Uncle Lute left this morning?”  Tate’s voice carried up to the aviary.

               “Yes.  Somethin’ came up back home, so he had to leave ‘fore ya got up.  He was disappointed he didn’t get the chance to say goodbye to you in person,” Fiddleford replied.

               “I understand,” Tate said, sounding disappointed.  He and Fiddleford arrived at the aviary, Tate carrying a large container of bird food.  “Hey, birds.”

               “Tate!” Emmett squeaked excitedly, hopping onto the edge of the nest he shared with Danny and Daisy.  

               “Hello to you, too, Percy,” Tate said with a grin.  He walked over to Stan and Angie.  “How are you feelin’, Pele?  Better?” he asked, stroking Angie’s back.  Angie cooed softly.  “Sorry I didn’t visit sooner.  Dad wouldn’t let me come here while you were recuperating, and when I tried to sneak up anyways, your mate kept chasin’ me away.”

               “Keepin’ you away was one of the few things I agreed with Fidds and Ford on,” Stan crowed.  

               “Oh, Lord, I forgot,” Lute muttered.  “Tate thinks everyone up here’s just a bird, doesn’t he?”  Tate turned around.  His eyes widened.

               “Pa, you didn’t tell me you guys picked up another phoenix!  When did that happen?”

               “Careful, Tater Tot,” Fiddleford said, grabbing Tate before he could approach Lute’s nest.  “Yer father and I found him just yesterday.  He’s not goin’ to be as civil as Pele and Prometheus are.”

               “He doesn’t seem too wild.  And anyways, I’m good with birds,” Tate said dismissively, shaking his arm free from Fiddleford’s grasp.  Fiddleford looked meaningfully at Lute.  Lute let out a half-hearted hiss.

               “See?” Fiddleford said.

               “He didn’t mean that.”

               “Come on, Lute!” Stan squawked. Lute abruptly puffed his feathers up and screeched loudly at Tate.  Tate blanched.

               “Okay, yeah, he’s serious.  I guess you’re right about not messin’ with him yet.  Is he gonna be joinin’ the flock?”

               “Yes.”

               “Cool!”  Tate frowned at Lute.  “Wait, why’s he so big?  I thought male phoenixes were small.”

               “We don’t have much data to go off,” Fiddleford said, “since, before this feller showed up, we’d only examined one adult male, and the other male, a juvenile, has stunted growth from gestational stress.”  Angie let out a small chirp.  “But yer father and I think that the new phoenix and Prometheus are opposite ends of the size spectrum fer male phoenixes.”  

               “You keep callin’ him ‘the new phoenix’,” Tate noted.  “I guess Dad hasn’t named him yet?”

               “No, he has not.”

               “Hmm, this new phoenix is a lot redder than Prometheus.  Like, super red.  I kinda think Jasper would suit him.”  Tate sighed.  “But Dad’s got a whole list of phoenix names ready to go.”

               “I like Jasper,” Lute said.  “It’s a real name, not like whatever nonsense Ford was plannin’ on.”

               “I’ll talk to yer father,” Fiddleford said after a moment.  “I might be able to convince him to let you name this one.”

               “Sweet!  It’s about time!” Tate said enthusiastically.  He stepped towards the food stand.  Lute hissed, remembering his cover as a wild bird.  “Oh.  Uh, I can’t fill the food dishes if potential-Jasper here is guarding ‘em.”

               “I’ll handle it,” Fiddleford said, taking the container of bird food from his son.  “Why don’t ya grab lil Percy and play with him a bit?”

               “You got it.”  Tate put on a thick leather glove, held out his arm, and whistled.  Emmett took flight, landing on Tate’s outstretched arm.

               “Tate, we’ve been over this, don’t try to teach the phoenixes tricks,” Fiddleford said tiredly.

               “Percy doesn’t mind.”

               “I ain’t so sure ‘bout that.”

               “They’re birds.  It’s not like they’re people,” Tate said, rolling his eyes.  Fiddleford frowned at him.  “…You can’t ground me anymore, I’m an adult.”

               “I can still scold ya.  How many times do I have to remind ya, treat these birds with respect!  Fer one thing, they’re magic.  ‘Member what happened when yer dad ticked off Pele and Prometheus? He got stuck as a toddler fer a week.”

               “I don’t think they’d do that to me,” Tate said firmly.  Fiddleford sighed.

               “Just take Percy downstairs fer some playtime, will ya?”

               “Yep.  Bye, birds!” Tate called.  The rest of the phoenixes in the aviary chirped goodbyes at him as he walked downstairs.

               “Sorry ‘bout Tate,” Fiddleford said to the aviary as a whole, once Tate was gone.  “We keep tryin’ to talk to him, but it just won’t stick.”

               “Y’know what’ll make it stick?” Stan cawed.  “Tellin’ him the truth!”  Fiddleford looked at Stan.

               “If ya were suggestin’ again that we tell him the truth, I’ll say what I’ve said before.  We don’t want him to know.”

               “Why not?” Daisy chirped. Fiddleford shook his head.

               “I ain’t havin’ this conversation when I can’t understand ya, sweetie.”  He walked over to the food stand.  “Thanks fer actin’ like ya didn’t want him near, Lute,” Fiddleford said softly.  “He might not be suspicious at first, if the phoenix we picked up yesterday was tame, but over time, it’d be more evidence that somethin’s fishy with the operation here.”

               “It’s whatever,” Lute cawed.

               “And you don’t mind if Tate assigned ya the name Jasper, do ya?” Lute looked at him.  “Oh.  Um, nod if yer fine with Jasper.”  Lute bobbed his head.  “Good. That’ll make him happy.” Fiddleford began to fill the food dishes.  “Did ya have a good night’s sleep?”  Lute shook his head.  “Aw, shoot. Sorry, lil brother.  You’ll get used to it.  I’ll be callin’ Ma ‘n Pa after I’m done up here, to give ‘em the news.” Lute deflated.

               “Not lookin’ forward to that,” Lute mumbled.  “I just know they’re goin’ to insist on comin’ up here to chew me out in person.”

               “It’ll be fine,” Fiddleford said gently.  He scratched the top of Lute’s head.  “Oh, Angie?”

               “Yeah?” Angie chirped.

               “Don’t forget, you’ve got that follow-up appointment tomorrow,” Fiddleford told her.  Angie nodded. Fiddleford let out a small sigh. “Geez, now that yer a bird, Lute, we’ll have to take ya in fer veterinary check-ups, too.”

               “What?!” Lute screeched.

               “Actually, I wonder if the vet can squeeze ya in tomorrow.”

               “Fiddleford!” Lute squawked in protest.

               “You broke yer wing.  You need a check-up with someone licensed in veterinary medicine,” Fiddleford said shortly. “But there’s no need to panic; the vet knows our phoenixes are sentient.  She’s very accommodatin’.”

               “He’s right,” Stan said.  “You should go get a check-up.  And yeah, once they told the vet that we’re sentient, she started treating us more like people.”  Lute huddled down in his nest.

               “‘Like’ bein’ the key word there,” Lute grumbled.  “I’m not a person no more, I’m a dang bird.”

               “A very fine-lookin’ bird,” Angie said kindly.

               “Yeah, you’ll pick up a hen in no time,” Stan said.  Lute glared at him.  “…What’d I say?”

               “Stanley, I’m gay.  I don’t want to attract any lady birds.”

               “Oh.”  Stan looked at Angie.  “What do phoenixes do if they’re gay?” Angie shrugged.

              “See, Uncle Lute?” Molly called from her nest.  “They’re just as clueless as you are.”