#that were too big for her because “she stole them from papa bear”

[g0ldgauntlet]

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[thecandywrites]

Anastaschia- High Priestess of Luna Chapter 2

Ok, top left corner- is our big Papa Bear- Sir Broman McGee, who is a knight through and through. Because our Stasi needs one hell of a father to make up for the piece of shit that sired her. And Selene needs a man who will prove that not all men are abject garbage.

Chapter 2

For two weeks your mother and yourself fled on foot, stopping only to rest a short while during the day, in safe spaces where you were hidden by the underbrush and fallen trees around you so you would be hidden from any other who would be in the forest as the animals themselves seemed to branch off and find new homes in the new parts of the forest, far away from the hunters from the army. You ate wild berries and other wild edible foods when you found them, washed in the creeks and rivers as you crossed them. You only stole what you could quickly grab from the gardens at night of the first four villages along the way to keep yourselves from growing too hungry when all the food you both had packed had run out. 

But the music Luna played when you saw the first four villages was bad- foreboding music and it was a sign that Luna had seen the village and knew that it was no place for either of you to call home, or that the coming army would come to ravage this village also. 

You crossed your father’s homeland’s border undetected but still gave the first two villages you found past it a wide berth because many who had fled the army before from the other villages had also come there. They had refugee camps that many of the village’s men could use as their own brothel in exchange for food and clothing. And Luna knew that you and your mother would be victims of rape if you stayed in them. 

But at the third village inside the border, the music was happy and peaceful. There was a castle of stones that looked like it belonged in a fairy tale. And the village around it was as large as all the other villages you had crossed so far combined and your mother said it was so big it should be considered a city. Cities were good, they were large and should have merchants who visited regularly and that the people of the city shouldn’t bat an eye or think twice about seeing an unfamiliar face and it would be easier to blend in- in it. 

“We made it Mama! We’re home!” You cheered excitedly when you saw it at the edge of the woods.  

“We might be. But first, we must get cleaned up and get ready to approach it. I will need you to help me talk to them. For they will know a version of your father’s language. So you will be able to speak to them best. I will need you to speak for me. Luna says that she will translate their words for us to understand and she will help you find the right words to speak so we can communicate accurately. Once we get cleaned up, we will go to the castle. We will ask if they have room in the city for another dyer. We will show them our best work and show them the book we have made that shows what colors we do in order to show them what we can do. If they say yes- then we will find a place to stay. If they say no- then Luna will show us another place to call home and we can sell the extra bottles of dye concentrate to the city’s dyers to at least get enough money to buy more food for our journey to the next place Luna could take us to.” Your mother instructed you before she brought you to a creek and washed both of you and your clothes in the creek. She braided your hair in a special pretty braid before she braided her own hair in a similar way. 

Once your clothes were dry, she got you both dressed and put your cloaks away and bravely, the two of you walked into the village, through one of the main gates since there was a wall around the castle and a smaller wall around most of the city with some settlements being outside the outer wall belonging to farmers so they had easy access to pasture. The castle walls had a gate in each direction and roads coming to and from it and another wall around the city itself through many gates, on many roads, all of them guarded. Many others were coming in and leaving as the guards looked at you and your mother curiously as you walked into the city but were not stopped and questioned. 

Once inside the outer gate, you were happy when you saw all manner of people here. You saw not just humans but merchants that were Elf, Orc, Rakshasi, Gnoll, Dwarf, Troll and many more you couldn’t know. Your father’s village had been a human only village but even there, your mother and yourself stood out. So here, you didn’t feel like you stood out that much anymore. But while you saw many kinds of humans, none were quite like you. Some had the fair skin you did, but not the dark hair. Or others had the black hair but not the pale skin. And none had the same eyes that looked like the full moon. But with such variety, surely your eyes wouldn’t be something that others would be disgusted or weary of. 

However, most of the people stopped to stare at you but once you gave them a friendly smile, they returned it easily enough. Even the non humans stopped and stared in surprised awe at you and your mother, dressed in clothes that were styled like something that they couldn’t quite put a finger on exactly where they had seen such styles. But very few had ever seen the kind of material your clothes were made of. 

You finally made it to the outerwall of the castle to the gate that had it’s drawbridge down and other merchants and business owners were passing on it without any kind of problem or interference, usually with just a look and a nod. 

“Halt! What business do you have here?” One of the guards questioned you as your mother and yourself tried to cross the drawbridge that covered a moat. 

You looked anxiously at your mother for help for her to tell you what to do but all your mother did in response was to look pointedly from him to you to answer him. But all you saw was his weapons pointed at you- you panicked and became fearful since you suddenly stopped hearing anything from Luna. No words, no music, nothing. 

“Um, we… we..” You stuttered and stammered nervously as the soldiers moved their weapons closer to you with a wicked smirk to see you so visibly scared before you finally heard Luna’s voice-

“My child, a savior and protector, is coming to help you.” Luna whispered in your head as you looked past them to see a slightly older man, he had hair and a beard as red and orange as fire itself. He was very tall, and very big, his chest was like a barrel that your father would drink wine and ale from at the taverns. But upon hearing the soldier’s inquiry curiously turned his head and came over to investigate. He had his hair cut short, with bits of gray starting to streak in his hair and large bushy beard. He looked even meaner than the guards that were threatening you. He practically towered over them, most of their heads only came up to his shoulders. He was in full plate armor with a thick layer of chainmail under it on his body with his helmet on a loop on his waist, but upon seeing you, he blinked in surprise then looked at the others and his face set into a hard glare as he came over to you and to the other guards.  

“What in the seven hells is wrong with you?! That is a young innocent child! Have you no sense?! Why would you put your sword in her face like that?! What threat could they possibly pose?!” He barked at them before they stopped and quickly put their weapons away and straightened up a nd tried to apologize.

But he was already furious with them and he yelled at them some more- in more words you didn’t know or understand but his tone and the way the guards reacted showed that they were just as scared of him as you had been of their weapons, if not more so. Even their knees began to buckle and shake, causing with bits of armor they were wearing- causing it to clatter as they shook like a leaf and cowered towards him and under his scruitiny.

Then he started dishing out punishments, which Luna translated for you- which was to cart away the human manure from the privies in the castle for weeks. And if they tried to argue or beg or plead for mercy or leniency, he either gave them worse jobs for longer or simply told them to do it for the next several months. He was obviously their superior and he was taking their treatment of you- a stranger to himself but a child nonetheless- as a personal insult and an insult to the honor and pride of their city and their castle guard code of honor and the honor of the Lord and Lady and threatened to report their behavior to the Lord and Lady and have them removed from their post and their wages stripped and given to the poor. And did so- so loudly that every guard within earshot and even the ones on top of the wall overlooking the gate could hear and quietly snickered their laughter at the expense of the offenders and insisted that they too would bear witness to back this overseer’s claims. 

“I’m very sorry about their rude behavior. What can I do for you Miss?” He asked you after he got done yelling at them. But his words and tone towards you was completely different. It was soft, gentle and even kind. He even put on a friendly and inviting and pleasant expression to help you not be so afraid of him as you had to crane your head all the way to look up at him before he took a knee so he would be more or less eye level with you to help himself not look so intimidating to you. 

“Here he is my child. He is your protector and savior, you can trust him. Talk to him. He will help you.” Luna encouraged you before she helped you find the right words to say to him.  

“We, my mother and I, we..um…my father dead, father’s father and mother all dead, family all dead. War…war burned our village down. We..we got out, we ran um, before-um, before army could hurt me, force me to lay in soldier’s tent and before they make mother do the same. We..travel here, we spent all money trying to get here. We have nothing except what we were able to grab before we leave. We ask..we came to ask, King and Queen of castle- to change cloth.” You stuttered as you gestured to show the words you were having difficulty saying in his version of your father’s native tongue of Flannish. Then you picked up your own clothes and held it tightly in your fists. 

“We change color of cloth, for more money, for food and for…for house.” You managed to say in the same accent he was speaking in- of the dialect of Flannish he spoke as you prayed that Luna helped you to say the right words in the right way but his face showed that he understood what you were saying and was nodding in understanding. 

“Ok. We will ask. I’m sure there is enough room for you here.” He reassured you with the same surprising kindness and gentleness. 

“Let them through, they are refugees. They have a trade, they only wish to ask the Lord and Lady if they may practice their trade here. You shouldn’t have stopped them.” He insisted before the guards nodded and moved aside so you could pass. The overseer gestured for you to go in before you grabbed his hand and kissed the back of it before you put it to your forehead. 

“Thank you for listening and understanding despite.. different words.” You thanked him earnestly as his smile was so soft and tender since such an action was practically melting him from the inside out. 

“You’re welcome, come, I will take you to them myself.” He insisted as he didn’t want to let your little hand go, he was adamant he was going to get you into the Lord and Lady’s court as soon as possible because the man had nieces and nephews your age and all he could think of is if the same thing had befallen them, he would hope that they would be given the same kindness and courtesy. 

“What’s your name?” He asked as you smiled and continued to hold his hand with one hand and hold your mother’s hand with your other hand. You didn’t want to let go of the one person who Luna told you was your protector and savior. She told you that he was a good man with a good heart. Who may not be handsome in face, but was handsome in personality. And who would never hurt you or harm you or your mother, and that he was trustworthy and dependable as you reached up as high as your little arm could go to keep ahold of his hand since he was so tall, but you could still hold it comfortably, even though your own little hand seemed to be swallowed up by his own hand. But he held your hand with a surprising amount of gentleness yet firm enough to keep you close and keep you safe.  

“My name?” You tried to repeat back to him with the same accent as he nodded. 

“Anastaschia. My father called me Annie, my mother calls me Stasi for short. I prefer Stasi though.” You answered. 

“Oh wow. That’s quite the name Stasi. What’s your mother’s name?” He asked. 

“Seleneeschia. But she can go by Selene for short though.” You answered. 

“Oh wow, ok then. Very pretty names.” He praised as he knew he would butcher if he even tried to say such pretty names as that, even as foreign to him as they were.  

“Your name?” You asked him as he led you through the castle with just a wave of his hand, meant that none of you got stopped and could keep on walking. 

“I’m Sir Broman McGee, I’m a knight for Lord and Lady Bathes, Captain of the Castle Guard.” He answered before you tried a couple times to pronounce his name correctly back at him before you finally got it right. 

“Perfect, that’s how you say it.” He praised before he got to the Great Hall of Castle Gronloe and spoke to the doorman of who he had with them and why you were here, even if he had to make the petition himself.

“Ok, I’m gonna go ahead and introduce you to the Lord and Lady of the Castle, their names are Lord and Lady Bathes and then when they call you- you come and stand next to me ok?” Broman offered. 

“Ok.” You nodded before you reluctantly let go of his hand so he could approach the Lord and Lady as they sat on their special high and carved chairs with a series of things laid out on the table between the two chairs. 

“Captain McGee, what petition do you have?” Lord Bathes requested curiously because Captain McGee had never really made any kind of petition at their court before, even as decorated as a knight and champion as he was, so for them, they were curious to see what it would be.

“Two refugees have come to Hestra. A widow and her daughter, by the names of- what I can pronounce- Selene and Stasi. They are fleeing a war that burned their village to the ground. They are dyers by trade. They wish to take up residence and practice their trade here.” Broman explained. 

“But we already have dyers.” Lady Bathes frowned before an elven woman, who was standing tall and could see over the crowd that was in the hall- could see you and your mother, and in particular- saw what you were wearing. Her eyes got wide in excitement because it had been a very long time since she saw such splendid fabric. So she bent over and whispered to Lady Bathes. 

“My Lady- you will want these dyers in Hestra. Just see for yourself what they might be capable of.” She suggested. 

“Very well, have them come forward.” The Lord decided as he motioned and Broman looked back to your mother and beckoned you both over before you bravely took your mother’s hand and stepped forward before those in the hall seemed to part for you. 

You and your mother walked up to them and the light streaming into the windows came in at just the right angle to make the moon muga silk of your clothes shine, glimmer and gleam with gold in the tan and almost a shimmer of an ivory pearl too of the fabric. It even had hidden patterns in the fabric that the Lord and Lady both gasped to see it before your mother and yourself bowed respectfully as even Broman was in awe to see your clothes for what they really were.

Especially since he had been previously too preoccupied at seeing your precious face and think you were just darling and adorable. And when he found that you were fatherless- he had instantly wanted to adopt you. Because his fatherly instincts in himself had been awakened and kicked into gear the moment he saw you. As if you were his child borne to him and he got to see you for the first time out of the womb after waiting his whole life to meet you. And even if the Lord and Lady were disinterested, he would find a way to help you stay in Hestra. If only to look after you to protect you from any and all others because the thought of any other causing you or your almost distractingly beautiful mother harm was outright abhorrent to him. 

“What is that cloth that they are wearing?” Lady Bathes asked her other women of the court as they stared at it too. 

“Oh my gods, that’s beautiful fabric with even prettier maids wearing it.” Lord Bathes praised which earned a quick but almost undetected by everyone else except you, when you saw it and at once realized the true intention of Lord Bathe's flattering words. But you could not offer offense. But instead pretended that you didn't see it and put on a pleasant smile nonetheless.

“How is such fabric even made? It's like pearls and strands if gold are woven into the fabric in a brocade.” Lady Bathes asked the others. 

“I have no idea. It’s a closely guarded secret among most weavers. But I think it has to have a very special thread.” Her ladies answered

“My mother- she calls this cloth- moon muga silk. It comes from worms that turn into butterflies.” You tried to answer them. 

“Ah, it’s silk. From caterpillars. And in the world of silk- muga is the rarest with moon muga being the most sublime because the fabric practically glows with light, as you can see. It’s famous in the great cities, and comes from the spice countries. From what I understand, the muga moths are only in the wild, not like mulberry silk moths that have been domesticated. It’s notoriously hard to work with, and that color is it’s natural color but obviously it’s been woven into brocade. It’s also very hard to dye but when one can dye muga silk. They can dye anything. Even dragon silk.” The elven lady supplied. 

“So, this is what my mother and I can do.” You began before your mother handed you her book that she used little swatches of fabrics of every color in the rainbow and beyond. 

"May I show you?” You asked as you held the book out to them.

“Yes please, come child.” They warmly invited before you put the book down on the small table between them and turned the pages, telling them the names you knew for the colors as they gently corrected you about what the “proper” names of those colors were in their language. And each color came with swatches of what that color looked like on various kinds of fabrics. And how long it took to dye each color. And how hard it was to get certain shades of certain colors and therefore which colors were the most costly because of ingredients and labor involved as the Lord and Lady had never seen such a huge array of hues. Because the dyers here could only do a small fraction of this and the dyes themselves had to be redone every year. But you said that your colors stayed true no matter how many times they would be washed because your process permanently fixed the color to the fabric. And that the fixer to get the color to stay was half the cost of the dying fees and half of the dying time because it was a very special blend. But once a fabric was dyed and fixed into that color, then, as long as they didn’t use bleach on the fabric- it would stay that way, even in direct sunlight. Especially the reds since the reds always faded in the sun quickest. But that the reds your mother and yourself made- never did. 

 “If you provide cloth, we provide color.” You finished. 

“My Lady, these are clearly master dyers. To let them go to any other city will be Hestra’s loss.” Lady Bathes' other ladies of her court urged her as even Lord Bathes’ men did the same. 

“So what do you need?” Lord Bathes asked you. 

“My mother and I need a home. And a place to grow our plants that we get these colors from but some of the plants are toxic, so the garden must be protected so others can not accidentally poison others. And a space, probably away from others, because the smell of work is bad. But the cloth needs to be washed, so a home with lots of water. And to be able to charge a fair price for our hard work because things to dye are expensive to buy and make. But we need to not pay too much in rent so we have money for food for ourselves. Please.” You requested. 

“Oh that can be arranged. We have the perfect place for you. Captain McGee, if you would be so kind as to take them to the house that the old leather worker- Landy Brollins used to have before he died. It should be cleaned out by now and there shouldn’t be too many neighbors in that neighborhood. And if they need more space, they can expand if they need to. When you have settled, come back and let us know you are ready to work, and once you have dyed our fabrics first to our liking, you shall get a seal to sell your trade in all of Hestra and become part of the dyer guild. By all means, charge the people of Hestra a fair price for your trade. And your rent shall be according to your profits because of your high expenses.” Lord Bathes decided. 

“Hand?” You asked him as you reached out your hand to him before he curiously gave you his hand as you kissed the back of it and put your forehead to it.

“Thank you for listening and understanding. Blessings be to you.” You thanked him. 

“Oh you sweet angel. Of course.” He offered before you did the same to Lady Bathes which she thought was particularly darling and it quickly endeared you to both of them. 

“Gift?” You offered before you got into your pack and pulled out a special dual chromatic and iridescent scarf that was folded in such a way that it concealed it was actually two scarves. 

“Oh thank you.” They both said as they reached for it before you shook your head no but with a smile and a giggle. 

“Hands.” You said as you used the scarf to tie around their hands, to join their hands together before you put the corner of each scarf in their fingertips. 

“Pull.” You said as you gestured for your hands to pull apart before they did and gasped and were delighted that when they did, they each had a scarf which caused everyone to laugh as each of them appreciated the iridescence of their scarves that you had given them. 

“Very cleaver. Just work on speaking properly and you’ll be just fine.” Lady Bathes praised. 

“Thank you.” You bowed to them before you took the book back and Broman himself proudly walked you both out of the court to take you to your new home. 

“Hold hand?” You asked him hopefully. 

"Stasi, he may be married with children. His family would not like seeing you hold his hand like that." Your mother cautioned you but Broman had already gladly offered you his hand that you happily held as followed where he led to- as he walked you out of the Lord’s court. 

"Do you have family- get jealous of me holding your hand?" You asked him. 

"Oh no. I'm not married and don't have any children. The only family I have is parents and siblings and their families. Otherwise I don't have a family of my own. No one will get upset or jealous if you hold my hand." Broman reassured you which made your happy smile brighten. 

"He doesn't have a wife or children of his own. He says he's a bachelor." You repeated to your mother in Alqua.

"Well then he might be a frequent visitor of the whorehouse because men have sexual needs that need to be filled, if not by a wife, then a mistress or a whore." Your mother insisted. 

"My child, he doesn't visit whorehouses or have a mistress. Do not embarrass him by asking. He has never married because others look at his appearance and assume his appearance matches his personality. Which isn't true. He is a good man with a good heart. He will make a good father figure to you if you let him. But your mother has already had too many bad experiences with the bastard that sired you. Give it time Anastaschia, let Broman prove what kind of man he is to your mother and to you. But do not judge him on his looks but by his actions. He already has a protective fatherly instinct towards you, let him act on those instincts." Luna spoke to you in your mind. 

"Luna says he does not. Because others unfairly judge his face and assume his personality matches his face. Luna has read his heart and judged it good, honorable and trustworthy. He will not harm us. Let his actions speak for what kind of man he is." You insisted to her as she smiled at how brightly your eyes glowed with Luna's spirit as you talked to her but the light was invisible or seemed to vanish to anyone else looking on. 

"If Luna says such things to you, then they are true. But your father hurt me in many ways, not just my body but in my heart and mind and those will be very slow to heal and before they do, it will be hard to see any other man and not think he is like your father." Your mother insisted before Luna spoke again to you.

"Luna says that you will heal here. And that never again will you ever be hurt that way by another." You professed. 

"Yes, she has said the same things to me too. But you must talk to Broman. He is getting nervous and worried we are talking about him." You mother encouraged you before you turned to Broman. 

"Broman, why no wife? No family? My mother says a man as good as you should have a very wonderful wife with many children. So it is confusing her as to why you don’t have such things? Are there not enough women that are good women to match the good man you are?” You asked him as he laughed and grew bashful. 

“How do you know I’m good?” He asked. 

“You help me. You help my mother. You do not look at us and see pretty thing to break, but see pretty things that need protection and you protect me from others. You good man.” You insisted. 

“Well, I’m not perfect. But I try. But I believe no one should hurt a child. Especially one who just lost her father and grandparents and her home. You have lost too much for being so young. So since your father is not alive to protect you, if you will let me, I’ll try to do my best to protect you. You deserve that much at least.” He offered. 

“So why question if you are good? You prove you are good by what you do.” You put to him. 

“Thank you.” He thanked you as he walked you out of the castle. 

“Now, first things first, have you eaten yet today?” He asked before you shook your head no. 

“No food in two days. No food in the forest. Only water from the stream coming here.” You answered. 

“Well then you are definitely overdue for a good meal, come I’ll buy you and your mother food to eat.” He insisted before he brought you to a tavern and bought one of everything they had on the menu as you both finally got to gorge yourselves as you both ate all that you could while Broman ate some food too. 

“How did I do Mama?” You asked her in Alqua as you were eating.  

“Very good, Luna helped you talk to them very well. Hopefully the house is a good one.” She answered as Broman simply smiled fondly at how beautiful your mother tongue was in comparison. It sounded so elegant compared to his own. But he eyed that totem you were wearing and wondered which deity it belonged to because it wasn’t anything he recognized. 

When you all had eaten what you could, he ordered for more food to be put into a special pot to take with you to your new home for another meal later as he carried it all for you on his hip while his other hand was in yours as he walked you through Hestra to your new home. 

It took a bit to walk to get there but the house was even bigger and nicer than your first home and even had a second floor to it that was a loft that would be perfect for any number of things that had a white plaster on it's walls with faded paintings on them.

“Oh wow!” You gasped when you walked into the house and looked around the house that was stone and mortar but still needed to be furnished before your mother found the vats for chemicals in the courtyard where the tanner kept the skins so that was nice that it had vats for dyes, they just needed to be dumped from the rain water that had collected in them since they were dumped and left alone last. And it even had a space next to the house where the ground wasn’t poisoned from all the chemicals from working the leather, but instead was almost vividly green where animals had been slaughtered there to gain their hides and the blood had nourished the ground. 

“Well, it needs a bit of work but will this be ok? There is another house that is smaller but has more furnishings that is across the street.” He offered. 

“No, house good!” You called up from the loft as you poked your head out from around the banister. 

“That banister should probably get replaced though.” Broman noted with a gulp as he watched it wiggle from your weight against it. 

“Stasi ask him about the money here.” Your mother beckoned you before you eagerly came down the staircase that was built into the wall of the house. 

“Can you show me -money, what each piece of money is? How much money is value?” You asked as you tried to mimic his version of Flannish. 

“Oh, yeah, of course.” He invited before he grabbed his coin purse and dumped it out on the counter that was built into the wall of the kitchen area and went over each of the coins and what they were worth. You wrote it down in your father’s language that the letters looked familiar to Broman, but your pronunciation of them was different but at least you had something to go off of. Then you repeated what he said to your mother as you picked up each coin and told her what their equivalent was back in your father’s village since the coins were slightly different than what you were used to because you had crossed a border from one kingdom to another. Your mother nodded in understanding before she picked up the coins and put them back into the purse to give it back to him. 

“No, no, keep it.” Broman gently refused as he held up his hands and shook them side to side to dissuade her from giving it back to him.

“But, it’s-much- big value- money. It’s your money. You bought food for us. That is more than enough.” You insisted as you took the coin purse from your mother to give to him, hoping he would take it from you instead of her. 

“It’s a gift.” He insisted before you turned to your mother and repeated that to see her looking at Broman wearily. 

“Ask him what he wants in return for this ‘gift’. I doubt it’s really ‘free’.” Your mother urged. 

“What…what things do you want for this gift?” You asked carefully as your big bright eyes started to look at him with the same weariness your mother had in hers. 

“Nothing.” Broman insisted. 

“What services is he wanting then?” Your mother asked. 

“Like bedroom services?” You asked her with a grimace and your shoulders dropped when she nodded. 

“Do you want…soldier camp?” You asked with a grimace and Broman’s eyes got wide with mortification. 

“No! No. No. I want a shirt dyed. Will you dye a shirt?” Broman asked finding a compromise before your face relaxed with relief. 

“No, he just wants a shirt dyed.” You answered your mother before she offered him the book. 

“Pick a color. Any color, for such big payment, you can have any color you want.” You encouraged him before you gave the coin purse back to your mother and went over the book with him before he picked a color and agreed that when you had moved in and settled, that he would drop it off for you to dye it, which pleased both your mother and you as you already had your first customer and already had that dye in a concentrate. 

“Also, if you will go to the temple that is across from the castle- they have a collection for orphans and widows, to help you make this house your home.” Broman suggested. 

“Is there a temple for Luna here?” You asked him as you held up your talisman before he shook his head no. 

“No, we only have two temples. The main one is to Dhanos, there is another one for all the other gods though. But I don’t think there is a shrine to Luna there. But even the traveling merchants worship at the Dhanos’ temple, it helps them fit in and get more business. But the other, smaller temple does not have anything for widows and orphans.” Broman explained before you repeated that to your mother. 

“We will be here for a long time, you will grow up here Stasi and I will grow old here. It would be better to do all we can to fit in here Stasi. Luna will understand if we have to go into Dhanos’ temple here. We will do what we did back in our old home, worship the main god of the village in public, and worship Luna in private, for we do not want persecution out of ignorance. But we can still go to the other temple if you do not like the one for Dhanos. He is a god of the sun and the harvest. Luna is the goddess of the night and water. There should be balance. This is not Masar Alquimar, the city of Luna. This is Hestra, which Dhanos has claimed as one of his own.” Your mother calmly replied. 

“So why didn’t we go to Masar Alquimar?” You asked her. 

“Because it may not be safe to return there yet. Some wars take years and decades. Some take nights and weeks, maybe months. Masar Alquimar is many months of a journey to get there, we never would have been able to make it there with what we had and it still may not be safe to return there yet. The bastard’s village was small, I would think it would only take hours to claim it. Masar Alquimar is at least ten times the size of Hestra, to besiege it, would take years and decades, maybe even a century Stasi. You said it yourself this morning- that we are home. So if we are going to make this place our home, we need to settle down and take up the customs here in addition to our own, especially in public. It will be best if we do what we can to fit in here and try to make friends for our business to thrive and if going to Dhanos’ temple is what we must do to survive here, then we will, if only to do good business, and give lipservice and pay respect where we need to. Luna knows that we have given our hearts and minds to her and that is all she wants from us right now.” Your mother reasoned with you. 

"My child. I swear to you, I will bring you to my city Masar Alquimar when it is time. I will show you the way to me when it is time for you to come to my city and see it for yourself and you will see my glorious city and my wonderful temple in due time. But for now make this house your home. I've talked to Dhanos. He will be a good god to you until it is time for you to come to me." Luna vowed to you which was a big relief and reassurance for you to hear.

“What day do you go to- temple to worship Dhanos?” You asked Broman as you found you spoke his language better the more of it you heard him and the others speak it. 

“On Sunday at the stroke of the second bell.” He answered. 

“We will be there.” Your mother encouraged you to say. 

“My mother says that we will be there.” You told Broman. 

“Excellent. And when you do, I’ll make sure to introduce you to the priests who will help you more.” Broman offered. 

“And once you settle, you should go to school so you can learn to read and write and speak better here to help you adjust to living here and you’ll learn the language here faster than your mother might so she may be counting on you to be her translator for her.” He insisted. 

“How much is school?” You asked. 

“It’s free in Hestra.” He answered because he already decided that he would be paying for it and extra lessons for you. 

“But won’t the kids make fun of me for being different? I don’t want to go if they will be mean to me or if the teacher will ignore me like they did at home.” You frowned. 

“Other kids were mean to you? What would they say?” He asked you with a concerned frown. 

“They make fun of my eyes. Saying I have ghost eyes. And that to look at me is as scary as looking at a ghost or a demon.” You answered with a sad pout. 

“That will not happen here. There are many kinds of people. And your eyes are beautiful. No one will make fun of you. And if they do, tell me and I’ll make them apologize and they will never do it again.” He insisted. 

“You should go on Monday, after we go to Temple on Sunday.” Your mother insisted before you repeated that to Broman who nodded in agreement to that. 

“The school will be happy to have you. The school has many very good teachers. They will help you and be very nice to you.” He encouraged you. 

“Thank you.” You nodded after you told your mother that news as she nodded in understanding. 

“If you two need anything else, let me know. I live in the castle. So just go to the Castle Guard and ask for me. And I’ll do all I can to help.” He offered. 

“Hunt tomorrow Broman. The army we are running from, will pass by, but not come here because of the border. But the army will push all animals here. Hunt tomorrow. You will kill many things. You hunt -yes?” You urged him since Luna told you that to tell him. 

“We pass by many animals fleeing when we flee but not bring anything to hunt them with. So they live to flee here also.” You added as a way to explain how you knew that.

“Ok. And when I do, I will bring what I kill here. I have plenty of food at home. But you just moved here, you will need it more than I do.” He insisted. 

“How much money do you want for your kills?” You asked him. 

“Nothing. Your full belly is all the payment I want.” He insisted as he pet his own belly for emphasis and gestured to your own belly too. You were overwhelmed with gratitude and hugged him. 

“Thank you.” You thanked him as he looked to your mother for permission to make sure it was ok for him to hug you back and her gentle, serene smile and nod was all that he needed before he did as his fatherly instincts kicked into their highest gear and his need to care for you and protect you was the strongest instinct he had ever felt before in his life.  

“Thank you Sir Broman.” You offered. 

“For you Stasi- just call me Broman. I will see you tomorrow with those kills ok?” He offered. 

“Ok.” You agreed before he reluctantly left to let you and your mother get settled.

[nickelkeep]

If it buzzes like a...

Pairing: Dean/Cas Rating: Teen and Up Word Count: 1200 Warnings: none? Written For: Lily, based off of this TikTok On Ao3

Claire sat in the chair for bad kids. She wasn’t exactly sure what she did that was bad, but Ms. Barnes had been upset, and Ms. Milton was now mad with her too. Claire was sitting quietly and picking at her fingernails when the door opened. She looked up to see who was entering the office when her heart started beating wildly. Claire hadn’t been sure who Ms. Milton was waiting on, but it certainly wasn’t them.

“Hello, you must be Claire’s parents. Thank you for coming in.” The principal gestured to the seats across from her. “While I wish it were under better circumstances, it’s a pleasure to finally meet you, Mister and Mister….”

“You don’t know our last name?” Papa’s heavy Russian accent appeared to catch Ms. Milton off guard.

Dad to the rescue. “I’m Dean, and this is my husband, Cas.”

Ms. Milton looked between them. “Your last names?”

“Does it matter?” Papa was upset; even Claire was having some difficulty understanding him.

“Really, Sunshine?” Dad rolled his eyes before turning to the principal. “Dean and Cas is fine. There’s no need to stand on formalities.” He paused and laughed to himself. “You know, I still can’t pronounce your last name, Cas, and we’ve been together for years.” Claire had to cover her mouth. Laughing was sure to get her in more trouble, even if she didn’t understand why she was in trouble.

“That’s because your mouth is busy doing other things.”

Dad blushed bright red. “Yeah, our last names don’t matter. So, what did Clairebear do?”

“Right.” Ms. Milton pulled out a file. “Claire had Show and Tell today. The assignment, according to her teacher, Ms. Barnes, was to bring in something that is important to your parents.”

“Oh yeah?” Dad looked at her and smiled, even if he seemed slightly confused. Maybe if he didn’t understand why she was in trouble, Claire wouldn’t be in trouble anymore.

Papa grumbled. “And you called us in, why?”

“Well, most kids brought in things like family heirlooms, jewelry, photographs. One child brought in their mother’s clarinet.” Ms. Milton stole a look at Claire.

“Okay?” Both Dad and Papa looked even more confused.

“They brought in school-appropriate items. But Claire…” Ms. Milton looked like she couldn’t figure out what to say, and instead, she picked up Claire’s notebook. “How about I read to you what Claire wrote. It might make it a little easier.” Papa and Dad sat up a little straighter in their chairs as Ms. Milton continued. “She read this to the class before sharing her item.”

Dad looked a little pale but nodded. “Sure, go ahead. Can’t be that bad.”

“This is my Dad’s favorite thing.”

“Oh hey, she picked mine.” Dad lightly swatted Papa with the back of his hand. “It’s fine.”

Ms. Milton was unamused. “It’s small. It fits in my hand, so I’m sure it’s easy to hide. Dad’s not very good at hiding it, though. When you push the button, it makes a lot of noise.”

Papa turned and glared at Dad, who had gone very, very still.

“It makes people make a lot of noise.”

“Oh no.” Dad hid his face in his hands.

“But it does, Dad!”

Dean made a small sound like crying. “Not now, Clairebear.”

“Actually, it makes people squeal.”

“Oh my God.” Dad looked at Papa. “I…”

Ms. Milton set down the paper. “Ms. Barnes did mention that she was proud of Claire for using one of last week’s vocabulary words.”

Claire smiled. She was proud of that too.

“I’m sorry, I know this is weird, but what color was the item?” Dad wasn’t sitting very still in his seat. It looked like he had the squirmies.

“What does that matter?” Ms. Milton’s mouth opened, and Claire was pretty sure if she had a gummy bear, she could get it in there. “It’s uh, the item, it’s pink.”

“Pink?” Papa shook his head. “Do we even have a pink one?”

Dad nodded. “There’re a couple of pink ones. But none of them are small enough to fit in Claire’s hand… Remember? We had to return the one because it was too big, even for me.”

“Enough, please.” Ms. Milton reached over and opened up the top drawer of her desk and pulled out Claire’s show and tell item. She set it down hard on the desk and pointed at it. “A taser.”

“O, slava Bogu.” Papa let out a breath as he spoke in his language. “O, slava Bogu.”

“A taser, huh? That’s good.” Dad paused and smirked at Papa. “A pink taser.”

Papa’s eyebrow went up in that funny shape when Dad said something to get himself in trouble. “Ne seychas.”

“But it’s a pink taser, which, by the way, Claire, is Papa’s and not mine.” Dad sat back in his chair and crossed his arms over his chest.

“Yes, you’re lucky, Soplyak.” Papa nodded. “That could have been much worse.”

“Oh yeah. Honestly, with that description, I thought… We thought…”

The principal stared at Dad and Papa, and it dawned on Claire that she wasn’t the one in trouble anymore. “I’m sorry, but if you didn’t think it was a taser, what did you think it was?”

“Nothing.” Dad replied as Papa said, “Absolutely nothing.”

Claire knew they were in trouble, and she figured she could help. “You know, Dad, I was going to bring the magic wand thing from your top drawer.” Papa and Dad turned quickly to look at her. “The one that looks and sounds like an electric toothbrush?” They both turned white. “But I couldn’t open the drawer. It was too high.”

“But you could reach the taser?” Ms. Milton asked.

“Yep!”

Ms. Milton looked at Claire quickly before resuming her scary look at Dad and Papa.

“You know what, I think we’re going to go.” Dad stood up fast.

“And I’ll take that.” Papa reached for the taser. Ms. Milton grabbed his wrist before he could pull away, though.

“You know I could call the cops. Or CPS, you know! I should report this. You’re in a lot of trouble!”

Papa leaned forward, and his voice was very deep and very quiet. Claire knew that voice from when she got in trouble. “You could. But you said it yourself. You don’t even know our last names.” Papa pressed the button on the taser, and Ms. Milton jumped back, letting go of his arm. “And I have the taser.”

“Uh…” Ms. Milton sat still before closing her eyes and nodding. “You… You’re right. Carry on.” She looked at Claire. “Have a good evening, Claire. Please make sure you talk to your fathers about your homework, please.”

“Yes, Ms. Milton!” Claire climbed out of the chair and went to Papa, taking his hand before taking Dad’s.

“It was your taser, Cas.”

“Molchi, Dean. Let’s go, Malen'kiy.”

“Yes, Papa! Have a good night, Ms. Milton!” Claire smiled before leading her Dad and Papa out of the Principal’s office.

[snkpolls]

SnK Episode 72 Poll Results (for Anime Only Watchers)

The poll closed with 61 responses. Thank you to everyone who participated!

Please note that these are the results for the Anime Only Watchers’ poll. If you wish to see the results for the Manga Readers’ poll, click here.

Anime only watchers, beware of spoilers if you venture over to the manga readers’ poll results.

--

RATE THE EPISODE 61 responses

Unlike the last couple of weeks, this episode brought in a higher amount of 5-star rankings, indicating the episode was overall well received. 

crazy intense crazy edge of seat 

10/10

It was too short. I need more. Can't wait for the next episode❤️

WHICH MOMENT AT LEVI AND ZEKE’S LOCATION WAS YOUR FAVORITE? 61 responses

There were many focuses this episode, so we opted to split up the favorite moments into a few separate parts. Though Levi and Zeke’s scenes didn’t talk up the bulk of the episode, they were still prominent. 60.7% most enjoyed watching as Levi agonized over the deaths of his comrades after hearing Eren had escaped from prison, doubting whether the deaths had meaning or not in the end. Far behind that, at 16.4%, was Zeke and Levi’s banter about whether or not Levi is popular. 9.8% were happy to get the story about what happened to Connie’s village back in episode 26.

WHICH MOMENT INVOLVING FALCO, GABI, THE BLOUSE FAMILY AND NICOLO WAS YOUR FAVORITE? 61 responses

When it came to the moments where Gabi, Falco and the others were the main focus, the fandom (at 41%) most appreciated the moment where Sasha’s father talks about why he believes Sasha died, choosing not to punish Gabi for her misdeed. 23%, on the other hand, were happy to see Nicolo reveal the truth about Gabi to the Blouse family as he held Falco hostage. 13.1% enjoyed the altercation between Gabi, Falco and Nicolo beforehand. 11.5% enjoyed the overall tension between Nicolo and Gabi arguing over the circumstances of Sasha’s death. 

I really liked the scene where Niccolo reveals the truth about Gabi and Falco. I wasn’t sure how the reveal would end up happening/when it would happen, but every beat was so satisfying.

WHICH MOMENT INVOLVING THE SURVEY CORPS WAS YOUR FAVORITE? 60 responses

The Survey Corps inadvertently get involved in the restaurant drama and manage to drag in the Yeagerists with them. Though, when it comes to moments that involved the Survey Corps, Eren showing up to menacingly greet Armin and Mikasa was at the top of 65% of respondents’ lists. 

floch epic smile

Eren literally stole the episode with that casual greeting.

Eren just dropping his existence on Armin, Gabi and Mikasa.. nice moment.

ZEKE ACCUSES LEVI OF BEING UNPOPULAR. LEVI DENIES THIS. WHAT DO YOU THINK? 61 responses

During their conversation in the forest, Levi accuses Zeke of being guitless over the fate of Ragako village, to which Zeke retorts by saying Levi must not be popular. 44.3% of respondents aren’t sure whether or not Levi is or ever has been popular, but got a good laugh at seeing him get so defensive over the accusation. 24.6% feel that he must be popular… he is humanity’s strongest, afterall. 19.7% think if he is popular, it’s only among the Survey Corps. 

Petra and Levi crumbs!!!

Well he’s popular in the real world.

He just don’t care

PAPA BLOUSE SAYS THAT IT IS UP TO THE ADULTS TO SHOULDER THE SINS OF THE PAST, AND TO “KEEP THE CHILDREN OUT OF THE FOREST.” WHAT DO YOU THINK? 59 responses

This question had a little less to do with the content of the anime, but more where viewers stand from a general worldview when it comes to what Papa Blouse had to say. The majority, at 57.6%, do feel that it’s the adult’s responsibilities to do everything they can not to burden children with the problems created in the past. 22% feel the opposite, however, and believe that children are no exception when it comes to dealing with the problems the world faces. 18.6% are somewhere in the middle, agreeing that ideally children wouldn’t be forced to bear the brunt of our sins, but that it is regrettably unavoidable. 

All problems in AoT are there because of children inherting their parents/ancestors sins. Stop it, listen to Mr. Blouse

WERE YOU SATISFIED WITH THE EXPLANATION OF WHAT HAPPENED IN RAGAKO VILLAGE? 60 responses

We appeared to finally get an answer about what happened in Connie’s village 4 years ago. Overall the majority of the fandom has accepted it as fact, with 55% feeling that it really cleared things up for them, while 11.7% accepted it but felt that it was a cheap explanation. 31.7% feel that it was a lie fabricated by Zeke and want to see if any other explanation surfaces in the future. 

I felt like they went over it very fast, would have like a more in depth explanation

DO YOU THINK THAT ZEKE CARES ABOUT THE SURVIVAL OF THE ELDIAN RACE? 59 responses

Zeke claims his actions have all been for Eldia’s sake. Levi is sure suspicious of this statement, but what about the fandom? 45.8% don’t want to say one way or another if Zeke is being genuine about this claim and want to wait and see how things unfold. 32.2% are absolutely positive that this is a lie, and that Zeke would rather see the Eldian race perish. Only a small handful feel the opposite, and believe Zeke genuinely wants to see Eldians thrive. 

i think yes, but only for their use as possible weapons as titans?

LEVI AND ZEKE BOTH SEEM TO AGREE THAT THE MILITARY IS WASTING TIME. BUT WHAT ABOUT YOU? 59 responses

57.6% landed somewhere in the middle on this question, feeling that it’s possible the military is taking too long to make a move on, well, anything… but that they also can’t just leave caution to the wind when it comes to their delicate situation. 35.6%, on the other hand, feel they are taking too long and there is really no excuse for it (other than, perhaps, incompetence). Only a sliver of respondents think that they aren’t wasting time and doing the best they can to get things under control. 

They are in stand-by for too much time, time and events are catching up with them 

They should be listening more to Eren and prepare for Marley's inevitable attack. Marley and the Warriors are the true enemy, not Eren.

KAYA SEEMS TO THINK THAT SASHA AND NICOLO WERE IN LOVE. WHAT DO YOU THINK? 60 responses

58.3% of respondents believe Kaya is right, and that Nicolo and Sasha had mutual romantic feelings for each other. On the other hand, 38.3% feel that the romantic feelings were purely one-sided on Nicolo’s part. We may never know for sure without Sasha’s perspective. 

We haven't seen Sasha interact with Nicolo expect when eating his food so it's hard to tell

HOW DO YOU FEEL ABOUT NICOLO ATTACKING GABI AND FALCO? 60 responses

Nicolo wasn’t at all welcoming of Gabi bragging about taking Sasha’s life, and in his anguish tried to attack her. 56.7% feel that while this isn’t particularly excusable, it was an understandable thing to do, given the circumstances. 38.3%, on the other hand, were only disappointed that Falco got in the way. One respondent feels the opposite, and hopes that Nicolo gets some kind of karmic justice for his action. 

Falco always takes for Gaby I'm sad 

Attacking Falco, big nope. Attacking Gabi, TWO THUMBS UP!

Glad Nicolo got to punch Gabi, but I'm disappointed he was talked out of it with talk no jitsu. Shoulda killed Gabi on the spot.

HOW DID YOU FEEL ABOUT MIKASA’S COMPASSION TOWARD GABI? 59 responses

After Papa Blouse’s speech, Mikasa checks on Gabi and asks to see her wounds. This is quickly followed up by her outright protecting Gabi from Kaya’s rage. 37.3% were just happy to see her get any focus that wasn’t centered around Eren, while 30.5% have nothing but praise for our heroine. 23.7%, on the other hand, wish she hadn’t intervened at all and let things play out as they may. 

Bad Mikasa, bad! I’ve lost ALL love and respect for her now!

Gabi should have died and I will forever hate Mikasa and Artur for not letting her die

Hating Mikasa forever for stopping Kaya

AFTER SEEING GABI’S EMOTIONAL RESPONSES OVER THE BLOUSE FAMILY’S GRIEF, HOW DO YOU FEEL ABOUT HER? 60 responses

We got a colorful pie chart with this one. 26.7% felt happy to see her finally getting some (hopefully) positive character development, while 23.3% felt the complete opposite - that they don’t think she truly feels anything about it and that they still don’t enjoy her character. 21.7% are happy to see she feels some remorse, but it’s not enough to make them like her. However, 16.7% are starting to feel more warmly toward her. 

i dont like her, but i like that shes developing as a character. If she finally made the connection that all of them, as human beings, shouldnt be carryign the burdens of their past and defining eaxh ither by the mistakes of their ancestors, creating a never ending cycle of violence, which she is shown as on the brink of umderstanding, then i might begin to like her character a little more

I love seeing Gabi’s slow realization that the islanders aren’t “devils”. Girl needs some kindness, and I’m glad that they can forgive her.

I still hate Gabi. No development will ever change that.

NICOLO SAYS THAT YELENA GAVE THEM INSTRUCTION TO SPIKE THE WINE. DO YOU THINK SHE IS THE ULTIMATE MASTERMIND BEHIND THIS SCHEME? 58 responses

Changing focus here, we move onto the wine plot. 39.7% believe that Zeke is the ultimate mastermind behind the wine plot. 20.7% don’t want to say for sure who exactly was in charge of it, and 17.2% believe it is purely Yelena’s doing. 10.3% think it may be someone else that we are unaware of just yet. 

I think Yelena is definitely cooperating with Eren.. but not Zeke? 

i think she got something from zeke, but then continued on to do what she thinks that zeke would want, in zeke's name

FLOCH IS AWARE OF THE SPIKED WINE. DO YOU THINK EREN IS AS WELL? 61 responses

When it comes to Eren’s possible awareness of the wine plot, 42.6% believe that he definitely knows about it, while only 27.9% think that he’s completely oblivious to it. 21.3% didn’t want to say one way or another, and the remainder have already been spoiled on this.

WHY DO YOU THINK THE WINE WAS SPIKED WITH ZEKE’S SPINAL FLUID? 58 responses

Nearly half of respondents (48.3%) believe the wine was spiked with Zeke’s spinal fluid as an insurance in case Paradis does anything to threaten Zeke. 13.8% feel it is on a lesser scale, and that he is simply being cautious about Eren and his intentions. 17.2% believe it’s not related to a potential betrayal at all, but rather the ability to have pure titans available should Paradis be attacked. 

He wants to wipe out the higher ranks to control Paradis himself

I really don't know but I'm sure he has a great plan in mind

WHAT DO YOU THINK WILL HAPPEN TO FALCO? 58 responses

The majority of the fandom feel more confident than not about Falco’s future, feeling that though he may become a titan, he will be saved by one of the titan shifters. 10.3% believe that he won’t actually be titanized at all, with another 10.3% stating they’re simply not sure. Only a small handful actually feel more bleak about Falco’s fate.

WHY DID NICOLO CONFESS? 59 responses

45.8% of respondents feel that Nicolo felt pressed to confess about the wine due to multiple factors. 30.5% believe he did so because he didn’t want to lie about the ramifications to his friends in the Survey Corps. 10.2% believe he was moved by the Blouse family’s compassion, and 6.8% felt that he knew the jig was up, and another 6.8% believe he simply felt guilty for attacking Gabi and Falco.

WHAT DO YOU THINK EREN WANTS TO TALK TO ARMIN AND MIKASA ABOUT? 59 responses

37.3% believe that the contents of EMA’s conversation will revolve around what Eren’s goals are. 13.6% believe that he’s there to negotiate with them about something or another. 11.9% believe that he’s going to try to get them on board with his plan and try to recruit them as Yeagerists. 10.2% aren’t sure what he’s seeking out, and only one person thinks he’s going to threaten them. The rest have all been spoiled. 

I think he gonna tell tem he is the new final boss of the game 😂

all of the above except threaten snd ive been spoiled 

possibly the first two, i think hes going to ask them to join him after letting them have a little bit of insight, and possibly somehting about their past as friends

DO YOU THINK EREN WILL COME TO “UNDERSTAND” WHATEVER IT WAS MIKASA AND ARMIN WANTED TO SAY TO HIM? 56 responses

Though it’s not clear what Armin wanted to say to Eren beyond trying to figure out what his goal is, 46.4% believe that Eren won’t be having any of it and will not come to an understanding. 41.1%, however, feel the opposite and think that Eren will come around to whatever it is Armin and Mikasa want. The remainder have been spoiled.

ADDITIONAL THOUGHTS ON THE EPISODE?

Voice acting on the revelation that Gabi is the one who killed Sasha is so superb! I like how our characters want to stop the cycle of revenge even if they appear as unrealistically kind. And Floch, he looks like a demon! It looks like he just feels so great to be in control and I just want things to turn around for him. And Levi's popularity with the ladies? I like the little comedy sprinkled into these episode. I just feel for him the irony of the situation that the person they protected with their all turned out to be like that.

It was sooooo good. The scene with Gabi and Nicolo had so much emotion in it. And I paused and said "holy shit" out loud when  Eren appeared

Caused lots of conflicting feelings towards characters and provided a lot of character development

The wine was definitely sus

Super looking forward to the next episode...I feel like something absolutely crazy is gonna happen! thanks MAPPA<3

Nicolo could have easily been the MVP of this chapter. Then he backed down because of that coward Artur Braus's cringe speech. Shame.

WHERE DO YOU PRIMARILY DISCUSS THE SERIES? 59 responses

Thanks again to everyone who participated! 

If you haven’t yet, please take a moment to send in your vote for up to 5 favorite characters for our 2021 character popularity poll! 

[lu-undy]

Chapter 64 - SBT

Here it is!

"Meow?"

"Mmh." Mundy grumbled under his blanket. 

"Meow…?" 

Perle tried to dig him up with her fluffy paws and Mundy heard her claws scratch the blanket repeatedly. 

"Leave me alone. I don't wanna do anything today."

"Meow…" 

Perle laid on top of Mundy, on top of the blanket, crushing him with all her cloudiness. He sighed. 

"Pearl?"

She purred and Mundy heard it from under the duvet. 

"Pearl… I can't do this." 

"Meow."

"I can't go on. It hurts too much and I don't know where I'm going. Everyday I wake up and I can't bear it. Sometimes… Sometimes I even come to think that it would have been better if I didn't know him." 

"Meow?" 

"Because then, I wouldn't have absurd expectations with people, and I could maybe find someone. Or I'd have stayed alone but it wouldn't hurt as much." 

Perle brushed her head on Mundy's, on top of the blanket. Mundy uncovered his head and she bathed him, licking him repeatedly. 

"I don't know what I'm gonna do with my life. I know he wants me to take care of you. I am and I always will. You're our baby. I'm just… It's sad he didn't see you grow up. You're a cat alright, not a baby anymore."

"Meow." Perle now licked his face. Mundy closed his eyes and let her do. 

"I go to bed everyday thinking that the next day I would forget about him. And everyday I wake up and he's the first and only thing I can think about."

Mlem, mlem, mlem, mlem… 

"And it's not like I'm doing nothing either. My days are pretty full with everything I do with Maurice. Especially now that it's full blown winter, lots of poor folks need help."

Mlem, mlem, mlem, mlem…

"And I know I have it infinitely better than them. But I can't help it. I feel lower than anything else on Earth. I know I should be more grateful that I have a roof, some heating, food, and you, baby… But I can't help it."

Mlem, mlem, mlem, mlem…

"And it doesn't get better at night. I fall asleep and I see him, I talk to him, I… I see us doing all the things we didn't have time to do. I saw us dining in a restaurant, getting drunk silly in a pub, hunting together, him teaching me French… I see it all. I see all these stories that I'd love to tell about us… But they only happen in my head."

Mlem, mlem, mlem, mlem…

"In my dreams, I feel him, I feel his eyes on mine, his hand in mine. I feel his warmth when I hug him, I smell his perfume and all… I even… I even kissed him."

Mlem, mle-meow?

"His lips are thin, warm and slick. It's almost like he spells words on my lips with his, or maybe not words but… feelings? Sometimes he kisses me and it says 'you're safe with me', sometimes it says 'I let myself be vulnerable with you, because I trust you', or even just 'I missed you'... He gives the best bloody kisses."

Mlem, mlem, mlem, mlem…

"I don't know how he does it. Anytime he kisses me, I can just say 'Bloody hell, I love you so much I don't even understand it myself.' But then, when it's in a dream, I say 'I miss you', or at least I try to make my lips say it. I don't know, maybe that's just a pile of nonsense… It makes sense to me."

"Meow." 

"What would you do if you saw Papa again?" 

Perle brushed her head on Mundy repeatedly. She gently stroked his face in the softest manner. 

"Hmm… Yeah, same for me. I'd tell him exactly that."

He grabbed the pack of cigarettes next to his bed and lit one.

"Meow…"

Perle stood up and walked to the edge of the bed. She hopped down to the thin kitchen top opposite the bed and then to the floor, before going to the door and scratching repeatedly. 

"Yeah, just a second, baby. What is it you running away all the time now? And before you go, where were you yesterday? It's not the first time it happens. I kept on calling and you didn't come. Is something wrong with you?" 

Perle only answered by scratching the door more impatiently.

"Fine, you're a grown up now and I guess you don't need your Dad… Maybe I'm just old and grumpy."

Mundy got out of bed and opened the door before returning to his morning routine, a cigarette between his lips.

The morning got him quite busy. More and more poor souls were suffering from the season's usual illnesses and the queue to the Doc' was getting longer and longer. A few of those people were on soup duty but obviously were told to not approach any food so Mundy had to step up. 

"Gosh…" Mundy's teeth were chattering under the cold. The line of poor people seemed to never end at the soup stand as he served them one after the other. It lasted over two hours but in the end he was done. 

"Meow…" 

Perle came trotting to him and dropped something on the floor. 

"What's that, baby?" 

He crouched down and realised it was a mouse. 

"Oooh, good catch, Pearl." He scratched her head with his gloves and she purred. "But I'm hungry and freezing, come along, we need to get some lunch." 

Mundy walked quickly in the streets and entered the first shop on his way. He exited with some food and rushed back to the van.

"Right." 

He heated up his food on his camping stove and ate it, sharing bits with Perle on top of her cat food. She didn't eat much of it.

"This winter's quite harsh, kitty cat. You cold?" 

Perle leapt on his lap, on the couch and rolled into a ball of fur. 

"Here, look what I found the other day… I cut it and arranged it a bit. It should fit you now." 

Mundy grabbed a piece of cloth from the pile on the couch next to him. 

"Let me help you wear it, but you gotta stand up, there we go…" It was a thick scarf that Mundy had cut and re-arranged to cover most of her back and belly. He tied a knot neatly on her belly and scratched her head. "What d'you say?" 

Perle walked around, spinning slowly. 

"It's wool, it'll keep you warm. And for the colour, you can't see it but it's… It's pink."

"Meow?"

"Like the collar he'd chosen for you." 

Perle sat up and looked at Mundy tenderly. 

"Meow." 

"I know, it's silly. I didn't do it on purpose. I just… There were all these scarves and the choice was so big that I had to find something. I wasn't gonna take black or nonsense like that. You're a beautiful lady cat. So, uh… I thought maybe…" 

Perle went to the door and scratched it repeatedly. 

"Wanna go out? There… Door's open. Be careful out there, baby." 

"Meow!"

"What are you-?" 

She went to her plate of food and took a mouthful of it without eating it before leaping out of the van. 

"Pearl!"

She ran fast and away. Mundy frowned. Something was wrong with her. He ran off after her. 

"Pearl! Come back!" 

It had all started when she stole food from his plate. He didn't think much of it but it had turned to the point where she did eat his food and hers before he could turn and sit down to have his plate. She had put on weight and after a couple of months, she had lost it. But her behaviour was still odd. Leaving before going to bed only to return hours later. Mundy thought he had lost her a few times and stayed up to look for her in town. Hunting wild beasts was easy but looking for a cat in a city was impossible! 

But Mundy decided it was enough. He would now see with his own eyes where she runs off to and why. There must have been a reason. 

"Pearl, wait for me!" 

She didn't listen and darted through the streets as fast as she could. Mundy followed the fast white cloud until they arrived in a dead end. He was out of breath and his heavier smoking wasn't helping his lungs at all. He coughed and held his chest. 

"Pearl… What're you doing?" A coughing fit seized him and he had to take a minute to calm his breath and his heart down. 

"Meow." She hopped in a crate and hid there in the corner. 

"What are you doin' in that box…?"

Mundy approached it and crouched down. He gave a knock. 

"Baby, it's me. Why are you hiding? Come out." He said softly.

"Meow!" 

"I'm gonna open the crate, ok?"

"Meow!" She answered defensively. 

"No, kitty cat, I'm tired of you bein' weird. If somethin's botherin' you, then by God I'll find it, Lu' told me to take care of you and I will!"

Perle jumped out of the crate and sat on the lid. 

"Meow." 

"What?" 

"Meow." 

"I promise I won't be mad at you, whatever it is. C'mon, baby, you know it's only me. Dad only wants to help you…" 

Perle bent her face closer to him and as he crouched down, he got his face closer and rubbed it against her. 

"Why do you act like this…? I love you and I only want to protect you…"

"Meow…" 

"Is this where you always come when I look for you?"

"Meow…" She rubbed her face against his. 

"Are you hiding from me? Did I do or say something wrong?"

Perle stopped cuddling with her Dad and scratched the crate beneath her before slipping in. 

"Meow."

"You scared?" Mundy looked around. "There's only you and me here, baby."

"Meow." 

"Can I open it?"

A paw slipped out of the crate. Perle was trying to open it. 

"Alright, I'll open it now…" 

Mundy opened the panes one by one slowly. 

"Whatever's out there and bothering you, I'll find it and I'll keep you safe, ok, baby? I'm here for you, I'm here for - Jesus Christ!" 

Mundy's jaw dropped. 

"You've got babies?!" 

Perle was laying at the bottom of the crate and a litter of kittens was squeaking and slithering in their mother's fluff. 

"Crikey, that's fantastic! Why didn't you tell me?!" 

"Meow…" 

"My God, I wasn't there for any of this at all! I'm so sorry, baby, you must have gone through a lot on your own… And I kept on bothering you with my problems while you were carrying actual babies?! Hold on…"

Mundy frowned.

"Does that make me… a grandpa?" He raised a curious eyebrow. "Oh Christ… I'm a grandpa now…" 

"Meow…" 

"Right, yeah, let's bring them back home. Stay in the crate with them, I'll carry you all." 

Mundy took the crate between his arms and lifted it off the ground before heading back to the van. 

"That's why you put on so much weight and you kept eatin'... You needed it. I can't believe I didn't think of it…"

He walked all the way back to the van, apologising profusely for his total lack of awareness and attention to her. He actually felt bad about himself. How on Earth had he not noticed? She was not getting fat, she was pregnant! She wasn't eating his food because she felt like she could, she needed the extra nutrients. She was actually feeding herself and a few hungry tiny balls of fuzzy fur. 

"Right, first, we gotta wash everybody and count them."

Once Mundy entered the van, he put the box on the kitchen top. 

Perle took one of her babies between her teeth and hopped off of the box.

"What do we have here, eh?" Perle delicately put her baby in Mundy's hands. "Ooh, it's a boy, hello, you…"

The tiny creature squeaked. 

"Oh my God, baby, you're so small…! Alright, here we start the water, let me turn on the heater towards the pipe to heat it up faster… Nice… I wash them and we need to find names too, eh?" 

"Meow." Perle agreed as she took all her babies out of the crate one by one. 

"How old are they…? A few days I'd say… Hm, let's see, you mister, you're black and you got white paws. It's like you're wearing gloves. Glovy! Is that a good name?" He rinsed the dirt off of the kitten gently. 

"Meow." 

"Alright, let me find a towel… There. You stay there, little fellow. Next!"

Perle passed him another baby. 

"Ooh, that's a lady, hello, baby lady. You're black with a white patch on your face… Looks like a diamond so you're gonna be Diamond, is that ok?"

"Meow." 

"Great." Mundy put her in the towel and wrapped it up around the two squeaking kittens. "We got Glovy and Diamond, next!"

Perle passed another kitten. 

"That's also a baby lady, hello…" He gently washed her. "She's black with a… Is that a star? Yeah, let's say Star for you, is that alright, baby?" 

"Meow?" 

"Yeah, I'm talking to you, Pearl."

"Meow!"

"Oh you can have all the babies you like, I told ya, you'll be my baby forever." He bent down and kissed her head. She purred and waved her tail languidly. "Here, in the towel you go. Next!"

Perle handed him the next baby cat. 

"Ooh, that's the last one. Hello…? Mister! Ah, a little boy we have here, oh, he's black with a few streaks of white on top of his head… Hm… What are we supposed to call you then?" Mundy rinsed him carefully and placed him in the towel. He then gently wiped the kittens one by one, as delicately as he could. 

"Pearl, keep an eye on them for a second, I'm sure I kept your bed somewhere…"

"Meow?" 

"Yeah, the one Papa had bought you. It's huge, chances are you and the babies can fit there." 

Mundy opened a few cupboards before he found it. 

"Ha! There!" 

He put it on the floor and like a reflex, he sprayed a bit of Lucien's and his perfume on it. He shook it for the smell to diffuse and put it on the floor before adding one of Lucien's jackets.

"There… Now you have somewhere proper to go with the babies, not a random crate!" Mundy threw it out of the van. "Now, we take the babies. Yeah, yeah, you squeak like heaps of miniature doors, shush!" 

Mundy crouched down and gently put them in the basket where Perle lay on her side. The babies easily found their mother's milk and started drinking it. 

"Aw, that's sweet… But we still don't have a name for this last one. What d'you reckon?" 

"Meow." 

"I can't just call him 'meow', baby…"

Perle bathed him on his head, she licked and licked as the baby cat was staggering to his mother, his eyes hardly open. 

"What d'you look like, eh…? I mean you just have a… a front tuft of white I guess… Maybe a few white ones left and right under yer ears… I mean… What has white on the top and on the sides eh?"

"Meow." 

"What?" 

"Meow." 

"Baby, I usually get you but you'll have to make it clearer…"

Perle brushed her head down on Lucien's jacket while purring. 

"Meow…" 

"Oh Gosh… You're right…"

Mundy's eyebrows jumped. There was only really one man that he knew with a white front tuft and greying temples. 

"He'll be Lu' Junior then."

"Meow?" 

"Yeah, I'm not kiddin'. What d'you say?" 

Perle slowly closed her eyes to Mundy, who reciprocated the cat kiss. He then bent down to kiss the top of her head.

"Right, I'll change your water and I'll give you extra food." He got busy quickly. "I put the water in a larger plate but less deep. We don't want to have the babies end up in trouble if they go there. Is that alright?" 

"Meow."

"What?" 

"Meoow." She answered and lowered her head. 

"It's alright, I forgive you, baby. But please, next time, don't hold secrets like this, ok? Secrets are for your Papa's work. But here at home, no secrets, ok?" He brushed her head and she closed her eyes. 

"Good girl… And I should be the one apologising. I should have paid more attention to you. I neglected you and that's not good. I was too sad to open my eyes and see the obvious, I'm sorry, baby."

"Meow." 

"Thanks. Now, you guys sleep and I'll climb up to sleep too, ok?" 

"Meow!"

"What?" 

"Meeeow?" She pleaded him with her eyes. 

"Right, ok, hold on…" Mundy took the cat bed with all the cats inside and lifted it until he gently dropped it on the bed. He then changed for some pyjamas, switched off the lights in the van and climbed up. "C'mere, you guys… Your mum needs me to sleep as much as I need her. Gosh that sounded weird… I meant… Oh God you're babies, you don't even realise! What am I sayin…?"

Mundy kept a hand on Perle and thanked the Lord that his bed had planks all around it such that the babies couldn't possibly fall from it.

"G'night, babies."

"Meow." 

Mundy kept a hand on Perle as usual, and like a reflex, his fingers simply sank in the fur and brushed. It was therapeutic. But he realised something. 

"Pearl?" He whispered and saw her silhouette turn her head to him. "I love you, baby girl, ok?" 

"Meow." 

He smiled and fell asleep holding Lucien's jacket with one hand and stroking Perle's fur in the other. 

-- A few weeks later -- 

Mundy discovered that raising four curious balls of fur wasn't at all easy. He constantly had to keep an eye on them as they were naturally attracted to anything, regardless of the potential danger of it. The kittens were at that age where they would explore anywhere they could and they would touch anything, scratch it, bite it or even, fight over it. 

It kept Mundy busy and quite happy as he felt that indeed Perle had given him more to do. But the mum cat was helping to raise the kitties too of course. She would always watch after them and show them a good example. 

"Oi, Glovy, don't push your brother away from the food, there's enough for everyone."

They were adorable and almost every afternoon Mundy would open his door to the kids after school. The poor orphans loved to see the kittens. Mundy let them pet them and feed them treats occasionally. It made the kids so happy that Mundy could hardly refuse. 

"Mundy?"

Mundy raised his head and Maurice was standing there amongst the kids. 

"Oh, hey Maurice. You alright?"

"Oui, thanks. Kids, why don't you go and play football, eh? I think we have a new ball for you, go and ask Johnny." 

The kids said goodbye to the cat family and rushed out to play. 

"May I?" 

"Sure." 

Maurice stepped inside of the van and shut the door after him. 

"Pearl, you keep an eye on the babies." 

"Meow." 

Both Mundy and Maurice sat on the couch. 

"Want some coffee?" 

“Non, thank you, I have just had one with the doctor."

"Alright. What brings you here?"

"Them." Maurice pointed at the kittens. 

"Oh, why?"

"Do you intend to keep them all?" 

"I don't know but they're too young to leave their mum now, so I can't give them away. Why? You want one?" 

"Non, non, I was just thinking that the van was a bit narrow to keep five grown cats."

"Yeah, that's true… I never really stopped to think about it. But eh, we've got time to see it coming."

"Fair enough."

Silence fell, which was only interrupted by the occasional mewls. 

"How are they?" Maurice asked. 

"Good, they're growing up nice and healthy. They're full of energy too, I forgot that even Pearl was like that when she was a kitten. Now she's much more calm." 

"I see. And how are you, Mundy?" 

"I live for them. I wake up with them, eat with them, and spend my free time trying to prevent them from wrecking anything while raisin' them." 

"You don't sound completely happy about it….?" Maurice could feel it.

"No, I'm alright, I'm as happy as I can be, eh." 

"Mundy, not to me. I know you." 

Mundy sighed. 

"I'm not lying. I am as happy as I can be."

"I have seen you happier."

"That was a long time ago."

"But that means you can be more happy and you are not."

"Maurice…"

"You need to take a break."

Mundy's eyebrows jumped. 

"A break? A break from what? And what d'you want me to do?"

"What do you do Mundy, when you're tired of everything and everyone?" 

"I drive to the desert but I'm not gonna do that, it's freezin' out there and I need to stay in the city to get food for the kitties. I can't go away for too long. And what about you? I'm supposed to work here with you." 

Maurice smiled through his unkempt beard. 

"You need a break. Gather everything you need for you and them and take a couple of weeks off. We can do with one less person."

"Maurice-"

"I don't like to pull ranks but this is an instruction from your boss." Maurice stood up. "If I even see just your shadow roaming around, I will have a serious chat with you, Mundy." He smiled as he went to the door. "And people don't like it when I get serious."

"You're always serious, mate…" Mundy smiled back. "Right, I'll take a few weeks. When d'you expect me back?" 

"When you can be as happy as before." 

"Mate, it would take me more than just a few weeks." 

"Did I stutter?" 

Maurice smiled as he slipped off of the van. Mundy's eyes fell on his fluffy family. 

"Well, you heard it guys. I guess I'm on holidays now." 

[werezmastarbucks]

tapes

kai parker series

tape 4-5/23

tape one tape two tape three

words: 1567

warnings: Joshua is a crap dad. cursing

TAPE FOUR

It’s twins’ birthday. Have they changed the wallpaper yet? Who knows, we’re in the living room. Everybody’s very excited. They turn five which means a very important year for the coven… but to them, this world is all important and unbelievably worth exploring. Kids this little don’t understand responsibility or duty yet, all they know is each other, food, mother’s voice, and funny moving pictures on the screen. There are many people in the room, again, all basking them in attention. So many pairs of expecting eyes turned to them, observing their every move like vultures, feeding on their confusion, and consuming the energy from their puffy pink and dark blue ribbons and dresses, questioning, discussing, pondering. Kai has his little arms around his sister, pressing quick fake kisses on her face just like mama and papa do. Josette is busy trying to pull the tablecloth from under all the dishes. It’s evening, and the kids finally sit still: everybody’s happy that hyperactive Malachai found solace in examining how strong Josette’s bones are. It’s like they know. It’s like they know about the merge, and they look at each other and consider which one of them will go down. But of course not, in reality they were probably thinking, why does it smell so funny and why is Aunt Aileen crying non-stop? Her facial features are twisted, that indicates she’s sad. Why is everybody else laughing then? However… you know what, I’m not sure they were even thinking that. I have very little knowledge of what the kids think about because I myself was never one.

Anyway, then we can see a big gap, and the picture changes. It’s present time – the best time of the day! Kai’s on his father’s, the coven leader’s, lap, Jo is sitting with her mum. All the chatter, laughter, glass sounds, and the big and small boxes float above the table. Parents unwrap the presents and announce: a toy! A dress! Josette gets about four or five dresses and Kai gets none. But he does get a pair of silk pants, a book of spells – his first – and even a dead bird. A DEAD BIRD! That’s one of the best presents you can get being a witch. You take the beak and use it in making potions… the feathers go on dream catchers, eyes – for blinding spells, and legs can be edible…

Okay, I’m pulling your leg, no witch really needs a dead bird, even a raven – it’s gross. Kaylo Perkins is just old and insane. He’s a slave of old religion and a big Satan fan. Dead bird goes into the bin right after the dinner, and Malachai screams properly about it, for like twenty minutes, because he enjoyed it.

They both get golden chains with the symbol of Gemini coven, and sets of toys. Josette gets her books on how to be a good girl (spoiler alert: she’ll never be). Malachai gets a mirror in silver frame from his mother – she talks to dead people through it. And a ring from his father that Joshua takes off his finger right then, and puts it on the chain. Everybody cheers. The favoritism in this family is so obvious you can write your messages in the sky.

“Say thank you!” Martha smiles to her children. Kai and Jo say ‘tha-ank you’ in unison and everybody goes ahh.

TAPE FIVE

We’re again in the Parker living room, like it’s a cheap sitcom with only limited amount of locations. You can hear somebody crying somewhere upstairs, but it’s more like a childish whine, the ‘he stole my teddy bear’ type. You know, if they only took Kai to a normal human doctor, that would all be so much easier, and they would tell them, well, there’s something wrong with this kid for sure. Joshua knows that already, but the mama Parker gave birth to this boy and she refuses to label him anything but genius, because he’s also so good-looking. Kai’s sitting on the couch and by the looks of it he’s around six or seven and he’s glued to the screen of a little television that’s in front of him.

“Kai, say what you’ve done”, a voice tells him behind the camera. We can also see Martha Parker walking slowly on the background, and she’s heavily pregnant.

Kai doesn’t react. His eyes don’t move and it’s like he doesn’t even breathe. When this boy isn’t watching TV, he’s talking about all the heroes and characters that he saw in the movies.

“Kai, what have you done?”

This is not his father’s voice; it belongs to a teenage girl we don’t know. Who is she?

“Ka-a-ai”, she utters. Her voice is annoying. The boy is sitting on the couch and watching TV, as if not seeing her. His face changes though: he hears something. In a second, we will hear it too.

Papa Parker rushes down the stairs so quick it looks like a flash. The camera shudders, the camera person takes a step back and bumps into something, gasping in pain. The picture is there, though. It’s like looking at a car crash.

Joshua’s face is twisted with anger, his eyes are black like blueberries. He runs to the couch where his son is sitting so fast you can’t really cope. Little Kai stands on the pillows, trying not to be caught off guards…

“You little monster!” Joshua groans as he grabs the boy by his shoulders and lifts him in the air.

Martha runs to them from the background. The living room is full of noise now. Kai is yelling.

“Dad, no, please!”

“Joshua, let him go!”

“He’s been draining her again!”

“Dad, I didn’t mean it! Please!” Kai is screaming in pain as his father is shaking him, then crashes him back down on the sofa pillows again. Martha keeps one hand on her big belly as she tries to pull her husband away. The tragedy is imminent at this point, and the girl holding the big camera whimpers really quietly, not sure what to do. The couch armset covers Malachai, but we can see his little arms fighting his father as he nearly chokes the kid. Way to go, coven leader! You gotta do what you gotta do. When a concerned parent brings their child to a doctor – not back then, of course, but now, when we do have technology to tell – the doc might say terrible things. Like, well, your child is definitely not okay. He wets his bed although he is old enough to understand, and he kicked Clementine in her stomach seeing that the dog is pregnant. It’s like… he’s projecting? Imagine the doctors in the late 70s saying shit like that. No, back then you didn’t go to a doctor for advice when your kid started acting out, breaking plates and keeping silent or screaming for fifty minutes straight. You better lay him down on the couch and give him a good beating so that he remembers he can’t assault his sister and watch TV all night long, and keep all the knives under his bed. Mama needs the knives to cook food. You take your darn kid by the neck and put him in the closet, make him the closet boy. Nevermind his wailing, and pleading, and crying, snot coming out of his nose and tears wetting the collar of shirt; he can’t do nothing, he’s not a witch! He doesn’t have any powers, little useless shit. There was so much hope on Malachai, they all relied on him to be the future leader, looking all like his dad, tall and pretty. With his wits and quick fingers, they imagined he’d beat Jo in the merge and become the good Gemini leader. But it seems he just doesn’t have it in him, and he’s so wicked because of that. All whiney, angry and sad. And this thing that he does! Look now, he’s about to do it with his own mama!

As Martha wrestles furious Joshua away, eyes like coals, nostrils flaring like a bull’s, the woman catches Kai by his hand, though he never stops wailing like a siren. One of his little hands covers his left eye – I wonder why? He’s crying as Martha pulls him from the couch and drags him towards the stairs.

“Go into your room and stay there”, she’s trying to outcry him, but it’s almost in vain.

“No, it’s dark! It’s dark, mum, I don’t want to be in my room, please!”

“Go into your room!” thunders Joshua. Kai’s shoulders shudders and he does it. Martha suddenly cries out, a look of shock on her face, and then kneels down on the floor as Kai keeps screaming. Joshua rushes to them and breaks their clutch, pushing the boy away. He nearly falls but manages to stay on his feet. His hand is still opened, he catches the air and breathes in deeply, his face slightly pinker, slightly more open, lighter. His eyes become a little more peaceful. As Joshua crutches over his very, very pregnant wife, he realizes: as soon as the father looks up, he’s fucked. So Kai runs away under the stairs and down into the basement. As if it’s not dark enough.

Phew! Disaster avoided. Josette is still crying upstairs. Camera is still rolling, the girl behind it breathing heavily. Well, that’s awkward.                    

[rumpledgoldenweaver]

If A Picture Spoke A Thousand Words

This my first foray into any sort of organized Fan Fic writing thing so here goes! Written for the @a-monthly-rumbelling October prompts, it was the camera picture on the mood board that caught my eye. Basically Rumple tells a story and Gideon takes a picture. Fluff, humour, no smut sorry! 

There was an imp that lived deep in the forest, a golden skinned imp dressed in leather and dragon hide. He stole children that didn’t behave themselves, taking them back to his castle and making them clean the many hundreds of rooms using only a bucket of water and a scrubbing brush. If their cleaning was to the imp’s high standards he might – only might mind you – give them  a stale crust of bread for their supper. This was a fact Gideon Gold knew because his Papa had told him so and his Papa knew everything.

The first time Papa had warned him about the imp, Gideon had been practising his drawing on the living room walls, using Mama’s best lipstick because he couldn’t find his crayons. He’d proudly shown his parents the masterpiece he’d created however their reaction hadn’t been quite what he’d expected. Everyone’s a critic he supposed.Mama sent Papa out of the house for a walk whilst she and his elder brother Balefire set about removing the mural Gideon had so carefully created. At least Balefire had taken a photo of it first, apparently so they could show his girlfriends when he was eighteen. Quite why they’d want to leave it that long before displaying the drawing Gideon had no idea, adults were weird.Papa returned a while later, he sat the young boy on his lap and weaved a tale of a golden imp, and how if Gideon ever did that again, the imp would take him away.  The imp must be truly terrifying Gideon decided because his Mama and brother couldn’t even stay in the same room to hear the story, and he saw Mama wiping tears from her eyes. He solemnly promised never to misbehave ever again. Of course being only five and three quarters that promise lasted roughly five and three quarter minutes, but the threat of the imp made him reconsider his choices.

There was no further mention of the imp that night. Papa put Gideon to bed, they read a story about dinosaurs, shared a big hug and Papa assured him he still loved him. The little boy, tired from his exploits soon settled down to sleep.

It was sometime later that little Gideon woke up in need of the bathroom, he called for his Mama but she didn’t answer him. He could be brave enough to go on his own, it was only five steps across from his room. Grabbing his favourite teddy bear for company he set off on his mission. Mama would be so proud! He was halfway back to his room when he heard a muffled sound coming from downstairs. He stopped to listen. It was Mama’s voice, she sounded distressed. There was another voice too, one Gideon didn’t recognise. He crept to the top of the stairs then he and his bear sat down to listen some more. It wasn’t Papa’s voice and it wasn’t Balefire because he’d gone home ages ago.

“Whatever shall I do with you Dearie?” the voice trilled

“You wicked Imp!” his Mama gasped

Oh no! Mama was in trouble! The imp had come from the forest and was trying to take her away. Where was Papa? Maybe he’d gone to his potion room.. he wouldn’t be able to hear in there! There was only one thing for it, Gideon was going to have to rescue his Mama himself. He was about to set off down the stairs when he spotted Papa’s camera on a shelf. He wasn’t supposed to touch it but how else could he prove to Papa what had happened? Besides the imp was already in the house, how much worse could things be? Bear seemed to agree, so grabbing the camera before nerves got the better of him he crept quietly down the stairs following the sound of the voices to the living room. Gideon and his bear gently pushed the door open, peaking round he almost gasped out loud. There was the imp on the sofa, Mama was trapped underneath him, she sounded very out of breath. Gideon quickly pointed the camera at them, pressing the button that took the photos. He charged into the living room shouting “I’ll save you Mama” at the very top of his little voice.

Both grown ups tried to sit up at once which resulted in the imp being unceremoniously deposited on the floor. He looked at Gideon in horror then vanished in a cloud of red smoke.“I did it! I did it! I saved you from the imp Mama! Me and Bear we saved you!” the over excited little boy cried throwing his arms round her neck “Papa will be so proud won’t he Mama”

Belle wasn’t sure parental pride would be the first feeling Rumple had right now. Certainly she hadn’t felt she needed saving however there was no way she would be telling Gideon any of that, so instead opted for asking him why he wasn’t in bed. The story tumbled out at a hundred miles an hour “and I took a picture Mama, I know I’m not supposed to touch the camera but Papa will never believe it otherwise – LOOK”He ran over to the door, retrieved the photo that had fallen onto the carpet before shoving it under Belle’s nose.

“I’ll take that Gideon” Belle quickly stuffed the picture into her handbag. There was no need for it to be on display anywhere. Ever.

Gideon’s face fell, Mama didn’t look very pleased with him. He thought she’d be happy to be saved from a life of floor scrubbing and stale bread. Maybe she wanted to go with the imp but what about Papa.. where was Papa anyway? His bottom lip started to wobble.

“I did do good didn’t I Mama..”

Belle scooped him up in a bear hug “Of course you did darling, of course you did” she soothed, rocking him back and forth. Where was Rumple? if she ended up dealing with all this on her own there would be words when he did re-materialize. Ten more minutes passed before Belle decided on finding her husband the old fashioned way. She said his name three times to summon him.

“You called sweetheart?” Rumple poked his head round the door frame, the carefully constructed look of complete innocence he’d been perfecting disappeared as soon as he saw his upset son being comforted by his not entirely happy either wife “What on earth is the matter!”

Gideon squirmed from Belle’s lap “Papa Papa!” he cried “I saved Mama from the imp Papa, I really really did!”

Rumple caught the young boy and swung him upwards “Did you now?”

“Yes Papa and I took a picture with your camera to prove it!”

Rumple’s ears went a delicate shade of red “Did you now” he repeated looking over Gideon’s shoulder at Belle with a questioning look on his face. Belle discreetly motioned toward her handbag.  

“Gideon you know you aren’t allowed to mess with my camera”

“I know Papa” Gideon sniffed, tears were starting to well in his eyes, maybe his daring rescue hadn’t been such a good idea after all.

“It’s okay” Rumple kissed the top of the boy’s forehead “Just this once it’s okay. The imp has gone and Mama’s safe. That’s all that matters. Now back to bed with you”

With a twitch of his fingers Rumple cast a small sound proofing spell over his son’s bedroom and headed back downstairs. The living room door had barely shut behind him but he could no longer contain the laughter that had been building up ever since he’d poofed himself away earlier. Belle started to giggle too, soon they were both wiping tears from their eyes.

After they’d composed themselves, Rumple asked if he could see the photo his son was so very proud of. Belle said nothing, she simply reached into her handbag and handed it over.

“Oh” was all Rumple could say. The master wordsmith reduced to a single syllable. There he was in full Dark One splendour, his shirt undone, lying on top of Belle who looked thoroughly dishevelled.

“We’ll have to burn it or magic it into oblivion or..”

“Not a chance” Rumple smiled “you look far too beautiful. I’ll lock it in the same place I locked the camera. No one will find it there” with a flick of his wrist the photo vanished “Now then Dearie, where were we before that troublesome young knight disturbed us?”

Belle gasped, her husband had changed himself back into the Dark One again.

“You are a very wicked imp!”

[selfships-in-spanish]

Spanish Civil War AU (with WW2 later on)

Hi! Yes so, this AU came to me after watching some movies with my grandfather, whom he himself is a Spanish Civil War survivor, as well as the WW2 shitshow. I’ve spent my entire life listening firsthand what happened, how he lived it, what he saw, what he felt... and I always had this little spine stuck in my heart. The things I could tell you... I always wanted to do some sort of story about those times but not only for the Spanish audience, but worldwide. So this AU came.

I want to thank @tinmiss1939 for being the most amazing human being on earth and jumping on board of this AU and helping me out polishing it and adding so much detail and info. You’re such an amazing writer and person and sjdfskdsf I’ve been blessed by your friendship, truly.

Here’s the whole idea for now!!

Ona and Cel were sisters in Barcelona and they both knew that 1939 would be the year that shattered their lives.  Any fool could see it coming, except the fools destroying Spain didn’t care how many lives were shattered along the way.  Their father, a Republican freedom fighter, was killed by the Fascist forces. Their mother dragged them away from their father’s still-cooling corpse, so the soldiers wouldn’t find them and kill them or do something worse.

They survived how they could and somehow ended up in a refugee camp in southern France, waiting to immigrate to England or Canada as Ona knew some English. Their mother died two weeks after they crossed the border. Ona always believed that their mother died of a broken heart, finally giving up after she knew her daughters were safe. Cel believed their mother contracted typhus from a blanket and died of brain fever.  

Cel and Ona were alone and scared, but at least they had each other.

The women’s refugee camp helped some women find jobs in France and helped others emigrate.  Ona and Cel’s first choice was for them both to leave the Continent forever, to finally be safe and escape from this hell. Someone from England was interested in a nanny and the selection committee chose Ona for her teaching experience before the war.  They only chose Ona. Cel’s few years of nursing school were considered too valuable.  It was painful and heart breaking. They had always been together and they never wanted to be separated. They needed each other; they were the only family they had left. Cel knew, however, that another chance might never come. Ona was almost dragged away, kicking and screaming, and Cel only asked her to please write letters.

Ona was sent to England, to a country manor house. She became a housemaid and also nanny for a young boy named Cole. Her employer was a wealthy man named Henry Anderson, also called Hank, whose textile business had skyrocketed in recent months. He was not able to be much at home and wanted more help for the maids and someone with more experience to care for Cole. He had adopted two sons, Connor and Richard. Connor, the eldest, helped him run the family business and manage the estate, while Richard studied foreign affairs in London. Hank had adopted the boys from one of his factories at a very young age, appalled that the foreman was employing children so young in such brutal conditions.  He simply had not been able to walk away from their tear-streaked faces.  He fired the foreman, adopted the boys, and instituted company wide reforms on labor conditions.

Connor took an immediate liking to Ona, although there was a huge language barrier. She was charming and intelligent and cared so much for Cole. Ona knew very basic English and had no clue what she was being told most of the time but somehow managed to do her job and more. One of the other maids knew Spanish and translated for her, but Flora could not be there all the time. After some thinking, Connor spent his spare hours teaching English to the new hire. Something intimate grew between them. He didn’t miss how her cheeks reddened when he got closer, how she lowered her gaze, embarrassed, when they brushed their hands accidentally. He definitely didn’t miss how absolutely cute her frown was when he stole an apple from her basket when she was returning to the kitchen. She reprimanded him in Spanish because her English wasn’t that good yet and Connor refused to teach her bad words. She eventually learned them from Hank.

Connor discovered more of her, little by little. She always had that sad gaze and was constantly writing letters to someone he didn’t know. He didn’t want to pry; it was her privacy, after all, but deep inside he feared she left a paramour behind on the Continent. Connor couldn’t deny he wanted to kiss that sadness away and wrap his arms around her and make her feel secure and loved.

Cole LOVED her and she always spoke Spanish to him. One day, he surprised all of them by replying to Ona in Spanish and everyone stared at him as if he grew a second head. Cole was like “whatever” and kept replying in Spanish, then English, then Spanish when Ona didn’t know that word yet… Their jaws hung open and no one else said a word. Ona became scared that she had done something wrong. But Hank was a practical man and was actually very pleased about the fact that Cole learned another language just like that and didn’t chastise any of them.

Ona’s English lessons with Connor continued, more in the open now. Ona’s affection for the reserved young man grew and she started to see flashes of his sardonic sense of humor. She knew she was developing a crush, but she was just the hired help here. Surely, Connor will be obligated to marry for money or position? By now, Connor had realized he didn’t care about who he was supposed to love, but he had also seen his ‘friends’ take advantage of house staff.  He was wracked with guilt but could not resist her sweet smiles and good heart.

It was a summer evening in the library. The windows were open but it was still warm, so Connor had removed his jacket and his waistcoat and rolled up his shirt sleeves. He was so oblivious to propriety that he didn’t even realize his level of undress was scandalous; Ona had shut the door so the other maids wouldn’t wander in. They were looking for a certain book of poetry, laughing at just how many sappy romance poems Richard had bookmarked.  Ona could not reach a book in the top shelf, so Connor reached over her head to retrieve it.  His smile was full of such warmth and affection, and Ona could not take it anymore. She dragged him in for a kiss by his shirt, praying that later she can blame it on the heat and the brandy. It was only a kiss—only a soul shattering kiss, full of months of longing that Connor returned so eagerly. He grabbed her waist and pinned her to the bookshelf. She moaned into his mouth, high pitched and needy, and let her hands slide up to his face. Her small hands were on his neck, threading through his hair, and Connor knew he was dreaming so he pushed in closer, clinging to this moment that could not be happening. Thunder crashed outside and they jumped apart, chests heaving and lips swollen, red.  Mortified by her lust, terrified by her surging emotions, Ona fled the library.  Neither of them could bear to bring up the moment the next day, or the day after that...

Weeks went by. Ona kept sending letters until one day the replies stopped. She panicked. Cole found her clutching a piece of paper and crying, and he ran to Connor because he had a feeling this is something big, something for grownups, and that he really couldn’t help much. Connor was dragged from his study to where Ona was hiding and Connor was completely heartbroken at the sight.

When he managed to calm her down just a bit, he took her into the parlor and prepared a cup of tea, just in time for Hank and Richard to come back from the city. They asked what was wrong, what happened, and Ona just spilled her entire life story. The war, their father dying while protecting them, her mother dying soon after, her sister still trapped and Cel hadn’t replied to any of her letters in weeks. and now the news that the refugee hospital was bombed and she was afraid, she was so afraid. She cannot lose her sister, too! She had to take her out of there and had to know she was alright and alive and—

It was devastating to the Andersons. They didn’t know the full magnitude of the horror show that was the Spain and France.  They didn’t even know that Ona had a sister. She was  relieved from her duties for the evening and taken by the other maids to her chambers so she was not alone. Hank sent a bottle of his best brandy after them.  Hank, Connor, Richard and Cole stared at the empty chair with their insides frozen.

It was Cole who spoke first.

“Papa, you have to rescue her.”

It was dangerous. It was crazy. It was pure madness, but Hank would be a heartless monster if he didn’t even try. He had some calls to make.

The final plan was, indeed, absolute madness.  Connor would go with Ona to the Continent to find Cel and bring her home. It had to be Connor. He spoke a little French and had learned some Spanish from Ona and he could also use the family business as an excuse if they got into trouble. Richard had contacts in the Home Office who could supply papers for Cel and those contacts could also get them into France, but after that Connor and Ona would be on their own.  Richard had one last suggestion…

“You need to marry Ona before you leave.”

Connor almost fainted on the floor of the study. How could Richard know?! How could Richard reveal his secret love, just like that? Did Father know before this? (He certainly knew now!) Connor waited for the Earth to swallow him, but Richard was still talking. Richard proposed that Connor should marry Ona now to get her British citizenship and ensure her safety while traveling. They could annul the marriage later and bind the story in so much red tape it would never see daylight.  

They left within the week; it was a frantic week that passed in a blur of paperwork, signatures, new clothes for Ona, a crash course review in French for Connor, and finally, a tiny secret wedding in London.  After exchanging vows in front of a magistrate, Connor kissed Ona on the side of her mouth. It was short and featherlight, but Connor's lips still burned with the taste of her.

Mr. and Mrs. Connor Anderson traveled across the Channel that same day, and took a train to Toulouse. To all the world they looked like a young couple on a honeymoon, oblivious to the brewing storm in the rest of Europe. In private, Ona cried herself to sleep and Connor finally understood all of Richard's warnings to keep his head down and stay out of trouble.   Never had it seemed more true that a person could be kind but people were a mob. Ona's translations seemed to leave out half of what was said. It took days to convince her that censoring the casual slurs did not do him any favors.

Their plan almost fell apart in Perpignan.  Cel had changed her last name out of fear of Fascist repercussions, but the paperwork got mixed up with her application for a nursing certificate. They were meeting with a foreign affairs clerk, trying to describe Cel's appearance to sort through a database of displaced persons with special skills.

Connor's patience had worn thin hours ago.  "We are looking for a girl who looks EXACTLY like this one, but her beauty mark is on her left cheek instead of her right."

The officer was growing bored with the whole conversation. In a fantastic display of French humor he asked, "Why do you want another one who looks the same? I can set you up with a very pretty redhead."

Connor dived over the desk and punched the man the jaw, followed by a right cross to the nose.  Security guards appeared out of nowhere, hauling Connor off to a holding cell.  Ona's rapid pleading and a hefty bribe kept Connor out of jail.  The officer actually apologized and gave her a lead in Montpelier, but then added a crack about stuffy British men with no sense of humor and offered to buy Ona a glass of wine or a coffee or maybe breakfast?

They left quickly.

That night at the hotel, Ona was bandaging Connor's knuckles when he asked how she got him free. He knew about the bribe but it would not have been enough.

"I…told them I was…eh…encinta? I don't know how to say it in English. I said, 'Je suis s'attendant.'" She got up to put away the first aid kit, not wanting to see Connor's face. It was such a thing to say and if word got out, it would ruin his reputation.

Connor stood and followed her to the dresser. She expected anger or disappointment. She did not expect his voice to be so soft as he said, "You told them you were expecting? That you were carrying my child?"

"I couldn't think of anything else to say.” She screwed up her courage and turned to face him, saying, “After we find Cel and get her papers fixed in England, we'll leave immediately, I promise. We'll go to Canada or America or somewhere." Hot tears burned her eyes.

"Ona, I don’t want you to leave," he whispered. His hands cradled her face as he wiped away her tears. "I don't want you to ever leave." He leaned his forehead against hers, his breath soft on her cheek. "I don't think I could live without you. Please stay with me. I'm yours, if you'll have me.  Please, don't go." His heart overflowed with desperation and hope.  Maybe, just maybe, she could feel the same way.  She hadn't pushed him away yet. She hadn't refused him.  He needed her, he wanted her, he—

"I love you, Connor." She lifted her mouth to his, the words brushing across his lips. "I love you." The tiny brush of her lips became the sweet press of a gentle kiss.  His mouth pressed back immediately, soft and warm. Connor tilted her head so he could angle his lips across hers. Each nip and graze spiked her desire for more. She needed more of his touch, more of his taste, more of him.

Connor begged entrance into her mouth with the brush of his tongue. She welcomed him with a high pitched moan. Ona's arms wrapped around his waist.  Her soft curves pressed against the entire length of his body and Connor gasped for air. It was overwhelming after so many weeks of longing for her. His dreams had never been this good.  She was pulling him towards the bed and he followed her so willingly.

Connor fell on top of her, mindful of not crushing Ona under his weight. He couldn’t stop kissing her, he wouldn’t; now that he had her lips, he wouldn’t let them go. But they did need to breathe. Connor and Ona took a moment to look at each other in silence but their gazes were speaking so loud. Connor placed one of his hands on Ona’s leg, going up until it grazed the hem of her skirt. Ona bit her lip and nodded, so Connor’s hand renewed its journey, taking the skirt up along with his hand. Her skin was smooth and warm, begging to be touched and cherished. Ona brought their lips back together, wrapping her arms around his neck and pushing him down. She hooked her free leg around his hip, pulling him flush to her body, feeling everything he had to offer.

He was burning. So was she.

They made love to each other, desire surging between them with each thrust and moan. He whispered his love for her when she came beneath him. After he had found his own pleasure inside her, she held him tight until his trembling stopped. That night she fell asleep without tears.

The next day, Connor and Ona continued their search but the days became easier as they  found strength in each other.  The nights became sweeter.  

They ended up finding Cel in Orléans. The hospital staff had been moved so many places and Cel was unable to send or receive anything. Their reunion was filled with tears and bone-crushing hugs. They were in each other’s arms, alive, well. They spoke in both Spanish and Catalan so fast that they barely understood each other. On the journey home they were never apart and spent the nights cuddled to each other like they used to when they were kids. Their joy in each other was so sweet that Connor didn’t even mind losing Ona’s company (well, he didn’t mind much).  Both of the sisters were afraid to wake up in the morning and not see the their other half.  They were afraid to wake up alone and realise it was a dream.

When they finally it make it to their new home in England, Hank knows he made the right choice.  That feeling is reinforced when Richard’s jaw drops the first time Cel’s tears him to pieces in a debate at the dinner table. Ona hides her smug smile with her glass of wine; Cel is insanely good with words and has seen more than one foolish man perish under her wit.

He did make the right choice. There was enough misery in the world and if he could help? He would.  Maybe Richard’s contacts at the Home Office could help him to do more.

But honestly? Nobody fucking told him they were twins.

[busybunnyph]

Scars.

"My princess is awake, good morning!" That was papa used to said every morning in our old house in Marikina. I used to wake up early before them and stay at my favorite spot in our sala. Our house is just small, we only have 1 bedroom and toilet but it's enough for us before.

I don't have a perfect childhood but it was precious to me because that was my only memory of the four of us laughing and eating together. We were just a simple family living a simple life. We may not be rich that time but we're not broken and that something money can't replace.

But life is full of surprises and if you're not careful on the decisions you make, life will fuck you big time.

--------------

No child wishes to have a broken family. When I was a kid, that was my biggest fear. I love my family so much. I love mama and papa. We were perfect until these people came into our lives.

Some relatives don't know their limits. And I will forever hate them for that. They've stolen something precious to me, they stole my life which are my family. If only they knew how to mind their own business this will never happen to us.

---------------

I'm turning 23 and I still carry this weight. I don't know when will I let this all go. But I will trust time. In time, I'll be able to breathe this all out.

------

Ma, I'm so proud of you for how you fought life and I love you so much. But please, cut ties with your sister who only uses you because you have the means. She's close to drowning you on her pit. And I know you can't see that because you're blinded by the fact that she's your sister. But it's too much.

Pa, I miss you so much. I know you're struggling more than I do. I know you've been so heartbroken that it changes the way you see life, it changes who you really are. But I know you, you're still that sweet and clever dad who used to spoil me with love and attention. Im sorry if my words hurt you before. I only did that because I was so eager for you to stand up again. I can't bear those people talking shit behind your back and made you feel useless as if they don't benefited from you. Im so sorry. I love you so much.

Bunso, Im still carrying the same weight as you do. I am always here for you no matter what. I love our relationship now more than before. We became closer and you're starting to open up again. I love how you strongly overcame all struggles of life. I admire your strength because I knew that I can't be chill like you when it comes to this kind of situation. You're Ate's little baby bro up until now. Sorry if I nag you sometimes, understand that's for your own good. I just want you to be more responsible. Life is not a joke. I know you have a big heart even though you can be silly at times. Thank you for always making me laugh. You're the best brother I've ever had. I love you so so so much!!

Jia, our little Jia. You are born for a reason. I hope you don't think that you're not one of us. I welcomed you from the day I knew you're inside mama's tummy. And I can't wait to meet you till then. I hope you grew away from hurt and sadness. But that's pretty imposible because life is full of surpises and you cannot be strong without a little pain. We need that in life to lit a motivation that will soon become a light to reach our dreams. I love you little sis! And I'm so excited to meet you.

[elanorjane]

California Soulmates Chapter 6

Summary: Pop princess Belle wants to write her own music. Single father Gold wants to put his failed music career behind him. When inspiration hits, there's only one problem...the songs they're writing are each other's. "Telepathic soulmates" RCIJ for @beastlycheese

AO3

She was still in her encore outfit. A shiny red dress with a plunging neckline open almost to her navel. Below that the long skirt opened at the front to reveal matching red sequin hotpants. During her encore large fans below the stage had blown the long train up in the air. Red gloves stretched up to her elbows. Her skin was shiny from the performance. Auburn hair fell in waves all around her. He halted, honestly taken aback by how beautiful she was.

“Hello,” she greeted brightly. Her face was open and understanding. She must think he was starstruck, which was better than the alternative, the truth being he was desperately struggling to not look at her boosted cleavage or her shapely legs.

Thankfully, she turned her attention to Bae standing in front of him. She didn’t even have to bend down to be on the same level with him, like she had to for some of her tinier fans.

“The show was great,” Bae told her in a daze. Gold took in his son’s glazed over eyes. If Bae stayed this distracted throughout the meeting this might be over ever quicker than he’d hoped.

“Thank you,” she told him, sounding genuine. Then she glanced up at Gold mischievously. “But what did your dad think?” A teasing smile tugged at the corner of her rose colored mouth, suspecting he’d been dragged here like all the other parents.

Bae’s eyes lit up at the opportunity she’d presented him with. “He doesn’t mind,” he lied, “because my dad writes music, too!” Gold cringed but couldn’t stop him before he blurted, “He even wrote some of your songs!”

Her eyebrows shot up in response. That was obviously the last thing she’d expected to come out of his mouth. She turned those devastating eyes back on him again and considered him, tilting her head to the side. “Did he?” Her lips pursed, suppressing a smile and daring him to talk his way out of that statement.

He hadn’t known she had an accent. The sweet lilt of her voice danced through his brain, short circuiting his synapses.

“No,” he asserted childishly, internally withering.

Bae stood between them. “Tell her, papa,” he urged in what he must have thought was a whisper but was definitely not.

His mouth opened and snapped shut, but Belle waited patiently for an explanation. “One of your songs,” he apologized. “It…sounds similar to a song I made up,” he explained.

“The one that leaked,” Bae provided.

“It’s just a coincidence,” Gold added hastily.

Her gaze shifted from curious to intrigued, as if he’d said something particularly interesting. Out of the corner of his eye Gold saw the security guard overseeing the proceedings charge forward to manhandle Bae and him away from her to keep the meet and greet line moving.

Belle saw him too and gave a little wave to stave him off.

She spoke, forcing his attention back on her when he wanted nothing more than to slink away with what little of his dignity he had left. When she talked, his mind became completely absorbed in her words. He was supposed to be short with this woman, push Bae in front of her for a photo, then get them out of there and on with their lives, which included moving to another continent to avoid this woman and people like her. She stole his song, he smarted, they were standing here talking about it. But somehow he couldn’t bring himself to stay mad at her. Now she wouldn’t let him out from under her spell.

“I wrote that song,” she told Gold. She didn’t sound mad, or threatened. More like she wanted to discuss it with him, which was absurd.

“Like I said,” he responded tersely. He looked away, trying to catch the guard’s eye and force him to move them along, “coincidence.”

The photographer, who had had enough waiting around, called out, “Photo in three, two…!” Gold strayed out of the frame, letting Bae have his moment, but at the last second, he felt small, delicate fingers wrap around his bicep and yank him into frame. He leaned in and smiled automatically. The flash went off.

Belle stood up straight from she’d leaned over Bae to lean her head close to his. The fruity smell of her hairspray lingered on his senses. “I’ve never written a song like that in my life,” she continued, unconcerned with the interruption or the impatient line behind them.

God, would she not let it go? “I’m not surprised,” he muttered.

She gasped, “Excuse me?”

That got the guard’s attention finally, and he sprung back into action, eager to punt Gold out of the arena. But she held out her arm again, “No, it’s okay, Steve.”

She’d sounded offended, but her eyes sparkled in response to Gold’s challenging tone.

No, Steve, I’m sorry, come back, please, he thought. Take me away from this woman.

She crossed her arms like she had all day and looked at him expectantly, waiting for him to explain himself. It was as if she knew she was torturing him, but kept on for the fun of it.

“It’s just it’s unlike anything else you sing,” he offered.

Her eyes sparked in defiance. “I have the lyrics in a notebook,” she told him haughtily. “In my own handwriting.”

That was it. He scoffed, squared his shoulders to her, crossed his own arms to mirror her, and leaned in close. “So do I,” his deep timbre rumbled in his chest.

She smiled as if he’d said the most marvelous thing. “Do you-” she cut off, as if remembering where there were. She glanced around self-consciously, suddenly aware of all the eyes on them. Her confidence that had reeled him in so effectively moments before fell away.

Gold somehow knew what she was going to say. He swore she was about to say “want to get out of here?” He’d almost finished the sentence for her. Honestly, he didn’t know why, but his answer would have been yes.

He felt an overwhelming sense of pity for this woman. Her eyes darted around like that of a trapped ferret. Standing next to her, he could feel the weight of the scrutiny and expectation on her.

Gold could only explain what happened next as some sort of mania overtaking him. His eyes flashed over her shoulder at the photo op backdrop. It only took him a second to get his bearings. Behind them, down the long hall, was an emergency exit, the same one that had led Milah and Killian out of his life all those years ago. He was hyper aware of the hundreds of people milling about around them. Not to mention the queue still formed behind him and Bae.

He put one hand on Bae’s shoulder and angled them away from Belle as if they were saying goodbye. He didn’t miss the inexplicable panic and sadness in her eyes. “Trust me?” he murmured to Belle, trying not to tip Steve off to his hairbrained idea.

“Yes,” she answered without hesitation.

Bae’s eyes volleyed back and forth between them, sensing something was about to happen.

Still looking into Belle’s eyes, Gold wrapped one hand around Bae’s wrist.

“C’mon,” he grabbed Belle’s satin covered hand with his other and yanked her behind him as he made a break for it. She let out a yelp of surprise, but gamely followed. Gold skidded past Steve the Barbarian, who truly wished to kill him now, pulling Belle and Bae with him.

They slipped around the backdrop and down the concrete hall. He saw the red Exit sign he was searching for, but it was much further away than he remembered. He heard the static of a walkie talkie and the pounding of Steve’s heavy footfalls behind them.

“Go!” Belle implored and the desperation he heard in her voice pushed him past the throb of his ankle and the three of them sped up.

Nearing the exit, he dropped Bae’s hand to shoulder the door open, letting them out onto a fire escape. He barely registered the alarm that opening the door had set off. He let go of Belle when they neared the bottom. He threw his weight onto the bottom rung, dropping the ladder and allowing them to reach the ground. He got halfway down before leaping the rest of the way. His ankle screamed in pain but the rest of him felt more alive than he had in thirteen years. He reached up to help Belle down, his hands around her waist. Belle safely reached the bottom, her heel only getting caught once. Bae jumped off the ladder behind her, beaming at them.

Steve was still in hot pursuit and Gold doubted he was the only one. He crouched down, taking one end of the ladder.

“Help me, Bae.” Bae took the other and together they threw the ladder back up so it suspended in the air, throwing an extra roadblock in Steve’s way.

Belle was bouncing on her heels nervously, watching Steve’s approach.

“This way,” Gold sprinted down the alley away from the arena, headed back towards downtown, Bae and Belle following. They came to a halt a couple streets away from the Staples Center. That’s when his brain caught up with him. Gold froze on the sidewalk. Christ. He’d just kidnapped an international pop star. What the hell was he thinking?

Belle instinctively seemed to know. “Thanks,” she smiled at him, taking a big deep breath of fresh night air, like she hadn’t had access to it in weeks.

It was a Friday night in a very busy city and people were entering and spilling out of the bars, restaurants, and nightclubs all around them. Removed from the context of the concert, standing between Gold and Bae in their frayed jeans, Belle’s stage makeup appeared especially overdone. Her skin sparkled and the shine of her red dress caught the street lamp lights. Even in L.A. she was beginning to draw stares.

“I gotta get out of these clothes,” she said urgently.

“I got an idea.” Gold, distracted from the madness of what he’d done by a more pressing concern, judged the distance and the crowd beginning to form around them. “Can you hang in there for two more blocks?”

She inhaled, anxiety making her breath hitch. “Yeah,” she answered determinedly.

“Alright, let’s go.” The three of them started a quick walk across the crosswalk to put a busy road between them and the growing number of people.

“Is that her?” He heard someone from the crowd behind them. A flash of light from somebody’s phone lit up the sidewalk. The last thing he needed was someone calling the cops and showing them a picture of the man leading a famous singer down a dark alley. They heard a growing group of sneakers pounding the pavement behind them.

“Run,” he urged under his breath. The three of them broke into a trot. Surprisingly, even in her towering stage heels, she easily kept up. Bae, running between them, let out a laugh. Gold, thinking abducting a pop star wasn’t exactly funny, glanced over at Belle. But she was smiling even wider and let out a yelp of glee in response, leaping in the air over a crack in the pavement. She gathered up her dress around her, freeing her legs to run faster. Even Gold chuckled as they sprinted down the pavement. They ran and ran, not talking and not stopping to catch their breaths.

“Right,” Gold directed them, taking them down another alleyway. The group made a sharp turn, then taking a left when Gold urged them. Finally, when Gold had weaved them between enough buildings to have lost anyone following them, he stopped.

“Here,” Gold pointed at a green door with peeling paint. Bae renched it open and they tumbled in behind him. Gold stumbled into Belle and he automatically put an arm around her to steady her. They were all laughing and catching their breaths.

Bae leaned over, his hands on his knees. “That,” he panted, “was awesome.”

*I’m playing generously with L.A. and Staples Center geography to make this work. I didn’t have time to do extra homework.

*We’re gonna pretend The Staples Center open before 1999.

[ellanainthetardis]

Let me know your thoughts!

[FF] or (ao3]

50. 5 Months & 7 Weeks

Effie was smiling as she scooped dirty plates off the table, listening to Peeta coo at April. She didn’t think she had stopped smiling all week, truth be told. Haymitch stole the plates from her hands just as she was about to start on the dishes, discarding them in the sink to wrap an arm around her waist and nuzzle her neck.

He had been smiling a lot more too lately.

His other hand found her stomach and if she had thought she couldn’t smile harder, she was mistaken. It was a bit thrilling to keep such a secret. She wanted to burst with it because the idea of having another child was making her… happy.

She was still scared and a bit apprehensive. She wasn’t thrilled about the pregnancy coming so soon after the last one. She wasn’t ecstatic about the idea of being forced to spend more time than necessary at the clinic. She knew there would most likely be difficulties down the line but…

She couldn’t quite bring herself to care for now.

Yes, a second baby seemed like a folly. But it was a folly she would gladly reconcile herself with.

Haymitch seemed to be of a similar mind. He freaked out a lot about how much she ate and about how much she rested and he was generally overprotective but that was only to be expected, she supposed. Every time she could see the fear invade his eyes, the enormity of the situation settling in, he picked up April and cuddled her until he was calm once more – and to say he had once mocked her for using Snowball as a teddy bear…

It would take a while to come to terms with the news, she figured: not to bask in happiness or curl up in sheer terror but to find a balance.

“And now we’re going to pretend that we don’t know Mama and Papa are being mushy right behind my back.” Peeta’s voice suddenly declared, clear and serious in the kitchen’s silence. “It’s an important skill to have, April.”  

Apparently delighted with the game she didn’t understand, their daughter giggled.

Haymitch rolled his eyes just as Effie glanced to check Peeta was still sitting at the table with his back turned to them – which he was.

“I’m allowed to kiss my own damn wife, boy.” Haymitch grumbled, slowly dropping his hand off her stomach.

“Sure.” Peeta laughed, bumping the purple stuffed elephant’s trunk against April’s nose. “It’s just you start kissing Effie and then you forget to stop. I’m trying to teach April not to end up traumatized.”

“Fancy yourself a comedian today, do you?” he snorted, dropping back on the chair he had occupied during lunch.

The soft smile was back on Effie’s lips and she decided to busy herself by fetching coffee cups before she could start crying at something so stupid as her family being completely normal. She still kept a sharp eye on the dog. Snowball was sitting next to Peeta’s chair, tracking his movements with unwavering attention, sometimes edging an inch closer…

She  knew what he was after.

“Snowball if you touch that elephant there will be dire consequences.” she warned when the dog dared place a paw on Peeta’s thigh, not too far from where April’s leg was dangling. “It is not your toy. Bad puppy.”

Snowball looked down, properly chastised and both Haymitch and Peeta laughed. Suddenly, though, the dog forgot his sad act. His head snapped up and he stared at the backdoor, his body all tense as if ready to bolt…

“Haymitch?” Effie asked uncertainly, taking a step back, away from the potential source of danger.

Peeta half rose, April safe in his arms, while Haymitch’s hand flew to the abandoned knife on the table…

Then the backdoor opened and Snowball started barking in earnest, darting to the newcomers and jumping up in joy. His strength and weight made Katniss stumbled back into Johanna who bumped against the doorframe and let out an impressive string of curses. Bags tumbled everywhere.

“Yeah, yeah… I’m back, you stupid furry thing.” Katniss mumbled, awkwardly patting the dog on the head. “How bigger are you gonna get anyway? You look like a small polar bear.”

Her grey eyes eventually left Snowball to look at them with some uncertainty.

Effie realized they were still staring and had yet to say a word. She opened her mouth to greet them properly, to comment on how nice a surprise it was, but Peeta was quicker.

“Katniss.” the boy whispered with open awe.

Effie and Haymitch exchanged a look.

“Hi.” the girl replied, clearly guarded.

“Not exactly the warm welcome we hoped for.” Johanna snickered. “Wrong time or what?”

“Not at all!” Effie exclaimed, finally breaking free of the odd spell that had fallen on the room. “Come in! Come in! I’m so glad to see you!” She hugged Katniss first, a bit gratified when the girl briefly melt against her. “I missed you so much.” she murmured in her victor’s good ear.

“I missed you too.” Katniss admitted in a very low whisper that didn’t carry much further.

Haymitch was right behind her and she let him hug Katniss like he was obviously dying to, turning to Johanna who hastily stepped back with her hands raised in a defensive position. “Don’t you even think about it, Trinket.”

Ignoring the implied threat, she advanced on Seven’s victor and embraced her all the same. Jo remained tensed and she pushed her away after only a few seconds. She gave in a lot more easily to Haymitch’s welcome hug, Effie noticed with a pang.

Watching the children greet each other was painful.

They stared at each other, apparently unsure how to breach the distance…

Effie took pity on them and plucked her daughter from Peeta’s arms, giving him a gentle not quite subtle nudge toward Katniss while she was at it. It seemed to do the trick because he stopped gawking at her and flashed her a beaming smile. He crossed the distance in a few large strides and when he opened his arms, Katniss stepped forward willingly, if a little carefully.

She heard Haymitch sighed in relief next to her.

Johanna, for her part, rolled her eyes.

“Mind if I use your shower?” she asked, picking up the bag she had dropped when she had come in. She was gone, stomping her feet up the stairs, before Effie could answer or tell her where to find clean towels.

Katniss broke the hug, her cheeks a little flushed, and cleared her throat. “I wouldn’t mind a shower either. I’m gonna go home and change.”

“Does that mean we get to keep Jo?” Haymitch complained, making a face. Effie whacked his arm but he simply shrugged. “What? She’s not miss little ray of sunshine.”

“Now, that is really uncalled for.” she rebuked. Although not particularly untrue.

“Can we talk?” Peeta cut in before they could start arguing, searching Katniss’ face almost with despair. “I mean… Not now if you want to rest or… Can we talk soon? I have to go back to the bakery, you could come when you’re done, I… I will close up early.”

“I’m not sure I want to go to the bakery.” Katniss spat, a flush of irritation on her cheeks.

“Delly doesn’t work there anymore.” the boy said quickly. “I… Katniss, I was so stupid.”

“Yes. You were.” the girl declared, crossing her arms in front of her chest. Effie was feeling very out of place and was subtly trying to convey to Haymitch they should leave the room but Haymitch, rude as he was, seemed to think the conversation concerned him too. Not that the children really noticed. Katniss shrugged. “But I was too. I will come by later.”

Before Peeta could thank her or Effie could repeat how good it was to have her home, the girl had grabbed her bag and had fled through the backdoor, forgetting to close it behind her as she was prone to do.

“You still need me to help you with the plumbing or you want to do that tomorrow?” Haymitch asked after a few seconds, displaying more tact than Effie would have given him credits for.

There was apparently a small leak in the kitchen at the bakery that Peeta would have liked to fix before it turned into a flood. And for some unfathomable reason he seemed to think Haymitch was an expert. Effie had suggested more than once calling an actual plumber, remembering only too well how it had ended the last time Haymitch had tried to fix something plumbing related – with her moping the floor and him very very vexed.

“No, let’s go.” Peeta mumbled, sounding star-struck. “It shouldn’t take long anyway.”

Haymitch shrugged as if to say he was in charge and then turned to Effie. “You’re good to stay here with Jo? ‘Cause…” His grey eyes briefly darted down to her stomach and back up. “Try to take it easy, yeah?”

Peeta was fortunately too focused on staring at the door Katniss had just gone through as if it would make her come back quicker to notice anything odd.

“I will be fine.” she promised. He still looked a little worried so she rolled her eyes, the soft smile stretching her lips again. “I will take a short nap.”

Relief immediately flashed on his face. “Good. You do that, sweetheart.”

He pecked her lips – probably longer than was totally proper in front of the boy – dropped a kiss on April’s head and followed Peeta out the door. They hadn’t left the backyard yet that she heard him ask Haymitch if she was alright and why she should have been taking it easy. He muttered something about her still recovering from the last big panic attack even if it had been close to a month now.

She shook her head and turned to grab the purple elephant, intending to put April down for her nap before cleaning up what was left of their lunch. The stuffed toy was suspiciously absent from the table, the chair or the immediate vicinity.

So was Snowball.

“Oh, that dog!” she scowled. She tracked the puppy down to the living-room where he was lying on his bed, looking far too innocent. She pursed her lips at him. “Where did you hide it?” Snowball tilted his head to the side, playing confused. “None of that. I know you stole it. Bad puppy. Very bad puppy.”

It would come around eventually and April was getting fussy so she abandoned the search to carry her daughter upstairs, wondering a little what was taking Johanna so long. Seven’s victor wasn’t exactly partial to long showers or baths. She had mostly mastered her water phobia but it didn’t mean she enjoyed soaking any more than Effie liked staying in an untidy environment.

She heard absolutely no noise from the bathroom all the time it took to change April’s diaper and place her in the crib. She watched her daughter stare at the dancing stars and unicorn of the mobile, gently petting her hair until her little eyes closed, marveling at the way her fingers clung to the cat ragdoll in her sleep. April was so beautiful, so perfect… She could have stared at her all day.

Still, there was a mysterious disappearance to solve.

She hurried to her bedroom to grab the baby monitor, planning on knocking on the bathroom door on her way back. It turned out not to be necessary because Johanna was fast asleep on her and Haymitch’s bed – to be fair, it was the only bed upstairs but still it wasn’t done to steal someone’s bedroom like that.

Effie didn’t want to disturb her so she simply took what she had come for and left, softly nudging the door shut behind her.

The now – blissfully – free of junk guest room was staring back at her from the other side of the corridor but what they would do with it was still a bit unclear. She wanted to turn it into a bedroom for April so the nursery could be free for the new baby. April shouldn’t have needed it as much by then and she had seen so many darling examples of little girls’ rooms in the magazines her mother kept sending that she was dying to give her daughter something just as cute.

She didn’t want to go too fast though.

It was early days still and if something happened to the baby…

She briefly placed her hand on her stomach and retreated downstairs. Cleaning the kitchen didn’t take long and she moved on to the living-room, a bit flustered because she hadn’t been expecting any guest and it wasn’t exactly up to her standards.

Haymitch would certainly have had something to say about the way she ran left and right with cleaning products but after a simple hour of work, everything was like she wanted it – the missing elephant having been found behind the armchair and Snowball banished to the backyard to contemplate the errors of his way. She forced herself to lie down on the couch because she was starting to feel a little dizzy.

“You are going to insist on having all our attention, aren’t you?” she chuckled, slipping her hand under her blouse to gently rub her stomach.

This pregnancy felt different from April’s. With April she had spent so long being terrified of losing her that she hadn’t really connected with the baby until a few months in. That time… She felt the connection already. She felt it down to her guts. And she loved that baby. She kept telling herself it was too soon to be hopeful, that her medical history meant she had to be careful with her feelings to the risk of getting her heart crushed, that they didn’t know if it would stick yet… But she loved that baby and nothing would trump that.

Perhaps it meant she had healed a little… Perhaps it meant she had learned to be hopeful again.

She must have dozed off a little because next thing she knew, she startled awake to a baby crying. She sat up immediately, swung her legs off the couch, but the moment she tried to stand up, she had to sit back down and breathe. She didn’t need to glance at the clock to know it must have been close to four in the afternoon because the wave of nausea was fresh and strong and apparently morning sickness didn’t only just happen in the morning.

“What’s up with you?” Johanna’s voice drifted through the baby monitor. “They left you all alone?” Effie relaxed a little and took a minute to make sure she wouldn’t throw up before finally standing up once more, albeit more carefully than before. “Not like your mom to leave you like that. What’s up with your mouth? That hurts?”

Alarmed by what Johanna was saying, Effie forgot any thought about her own discomfort and rushed upstairs. Seven’s victor was standing next to the crib, rocking the baby, a finger in her daughter’s mouth for whatever reason…

“Her gums are irritated.” Jo mumbled. “Might be a tooth coming up.”

“Oh.” Effie frowned because she had noticed April had seemed really intent on sucking on her own hands lately but she hadn’t made the link and now she felt terrible about it. Had her daughter tried to tell her she was in pain and had she missed it? “How do you…”

“I remember from Finn.” the victor shrugged, fishing the pacifier from the crib and popping it in the baby’s mouth. “There are those plastic rings… You put them in the freezer and then you let her suck on it. Helps.”

They had purchased those, hadn’t they? They had purchased almost everything when she had still been pregnant. She hesitated for a second but Johanna made no move to hand April back and her daughter seemed content for now so she turned to the dresser and rummaged in the bottom drawer – the one that was full of things they didn’t have an immediate need for. She found what she was looking for still under wraps and held it out for Jo’s inspection. “Is that the one?”

Seven’s victor gave it only a cursory glance. “Yeah.”

The mood was quickly becoming awkward but Effie wasn’t entirely sure why. Jo looked embarrassed to be caught rocking April and, more than that, to not seem able to let go of her. She wanted to suggest going downstairs to the kitchen so they could have tea – with lemon in her case in the vague hope it would soothe her stomach – but she was certain Johanna was working something over in her mind and that if Effie said the wrong thing, she would close up and storm off. She sat on the rocking-chair, waiting for Jo to either say it or…

The small swaying of the chair wasn’t doing anything for her nausea and she made a face, instinctively placing a hand on her stomach as if it would soothe the raspberry-sized baby causing all those problems.

“What’s wrong with you?” Jo asked, all suspicious.

Her eyes were studying her, probably seeing everything Effie was trying to hide and ticking off neat little boxes.

“Nothing serious. I haven’t been so well since the thing with the Peacekeeper.” she dismissed, choosing to follow in Haymitch’s footsteps with her lie. “I don’t sleep well and my body is making me pay for it.”

It was more honest than she would have been with the children but Jo was different. Jo had been right there with her and while she had tried to shield her as much as she had been able… Well, the fact was Peeta and Annie had been the ones to protect and that duty had tacitly fell on her and Johanna. They had been allies in those cells. They had been…

She closed her eyes, not really wanting to let her mind go there.

“Where is he now? The guy?” Jo asked, her voice sharp and icy. If she found him, she would kill him. Effie knew that with clear certainty. Haymitch might have been tempted but Johanna would never pause to think.

“Gone.” she whispered. “He left a letter if you are interested. Peeta kept it.”

The boy had seemed to found more peace in it than she had. She didn’t care about the Peacekeeper or his reasons. She didn’t care if he was a nice young man who had lost his way. She didn’t care if they had brainwashed him into doing something he thought was his duty.

All she cared about was that she had been hurt, her friends had been hurt, her son in everything but blood had been hurt.

“Only interested in making him bleed.” Johanna growled, predictably.

“Do not threaten to murder people with my daughter in your arms if you please.” she sighed, forcing her eyelids open to check April was still alright. The baby was now busy trying to grab the short strands of hair framing the victor’s face.

Jo rolled her eyes but turned her attention to the child. She never made silly faces or even attempted to start one of those ridiculous conversations Effie and Haymitch found themselves having so often with the baby but April didn’t look disappointed or unsettled about that. She didn’t cry out, she didn’t fuss too much… It seemed she felt safe with Johanna.

“You ever regret keeping her?” the victor asked. The question took her aback and she frowned at her, wondering where that came from. Her blue eyes shot to the younger woman’s flat stomach but before she could voice her question, Jo scoffed. “I ain’t knocked-up, Trinket. Just… When you came to Four the first time you said you didn’t know if you wanted to keep her.”

“I was not sure I would be any good for her.” she amended. “I wanted to do the right thing.”

“Yeah.” Johanna sighed, making April bounce once or twice to keep her entertained. The move was perfectly calculated. Not too strong, not too weak. Experienced. “Thing is… You had a point. People like us… They shouldn’t have kids. We’re fucked up. Too fucked up. Told Annie in Thirteen. Would have told Finnick too if he hadn’t gone and gotten himself blown up.”

There was still pain in Johanna’s voice when she talked about Finnick, even after all those years. Effie could understand. Too much had been happening after the war for her to grieve properly for everyone. Her own grief had been a big blurred ball of pain and dead friends.

“I would never have been able to give her up.” she said quietly. She didn’t dispute Johanna her point because as disturbingly blunt as she was being, her argument was valid. “At least if I had… I would never have come back from it. I love her too much. It would have destroyed me.”

“Yeah, that’s what Annie claimed.” Johanna shrugged. “And I didn’t get it but I figured I owed Finnick ‘cause… There was nobody else, was there? Haymitch had to take care of Katniss. You were stuck in the city with Peeta. Beetee couldn’t wait to get the hell back to Three. Heavensbee… Fuck knows what he would have done with a victors’ baby… A reality show probably.” She shook her head. “I was the only one left.”

“You are not some default choice, Johanna.” she chided her. “Finnick would have wanted you to look after his family. You know that as well as I do.”

“Maybe.” the victor granted, looking at April instead of looking at her. “But I’ve always thought it would be… At first I thought I’d stay until the baby was born. Then, Finn was there and Annie was in too deep so I stuck around but I told myself it’d just be until the boy could take care of himself well enough and now…”

Johanna hadn’t sounded so frenzied in a long time. Not since the war. Not since she had appropriated the visitor chair in her hospital room. It might explain the drinking Katniss claimed was overboard, Effie mused.

“Now you do not want to leave anymore.” she observed quietly because it didn’t seem like Jo would be able to say it by herself.

“Kids die.” Johanna said bluntly, cradling April closer to her chest as if by reflex. It was odd and touching to see, the total contradiction between the harshness in the victor’s voice and the gentleness of her touch. Jo had been taking care of Finn for three years and it showed.

“Not ours.” she countered firmly.

It didn’t seem to calm Seven’s victor anxiety and Effie was a little bit relieved when she crossed the distance between them to hand April over. She felt better once her daughter was in her own arms even if that meant Johanna was now pacing the length of the room, making her even dizzier than she already was.

“I wasn’t gonna come back from Seven.” Jo announced – and Effie realized it wasn’t exactly a big surprise. “Once I was there, I was gonna call Annie and tell her I wasn’t coming back. I did call but before I could say anything, she handed the phone to Finn and…” Johanna’s voice faltered and she buried her hands in her hair, pulling at the short brown strands. “He asked when I was coming home.”

“He misses you.” she pointed out. “You are as much his mother as Annie is.”

She wasn’t sure anyone had ever put it that bluntly for her before because Jo suddenly froze and turned to her, anger and uncertainty battling on her face. “How is that fair?”

She frowned, confused. “I don’t understand what you mean.”

“He marries her, dies and leaves me to raise his kid.” Jo sneered. “How is that fair, Trinket?”

She pursed her lips, feeling a pang of pain at the memory of Finnick’s cocky grin. He had been so young when he had died. So young… And he would have been an amazing father, she knew that without a doubt.

“I don’t think any of it is fair.” she sighed. “But I fail to see where the problem is, Johanna… Finn loves you, you love the boy, you and Annie get along well… Are you so unhappy in Four that being alone in Seven would be better?”

Johanna stared at her hard for the longest time. Then, she crossed her arms and walked to the window, looking out as if the street below held all the answers. Effie had to strain her neck to keep her in her line of sight but it seemed to be Johanna’s aim. Whatever she had to say, she didn’t want the weight of Effie’s gaze while she said it.

If she said it.

Johanna Mason had only confided in one person as far as Effie knew and that person had been long dead. They were all friends, family even. That was the term they used. But she was well aware that some were closer than others and that, in that unit, Jo had always been a little apart, a little alone. Seven’s victor was a loner, it was who she was and they respected that but… It wasn’t good to keep everything bottled up inside like she did.

Effie knew for certain she had never searched for professional help after the war, that she hadn’t talked to anyone about what had happened in those cells… Talking about it with Haymitch was always painful and it was never casual but it always somehow helped to put words on it, her own words, her own narrative. It helped to appropriate what had happened with sentences, to take some control over it. Effie couldn’t help but wish Jo could find someone that would help her the same way Haymitch did for her.

She thought it was about that.

What else could it be about?

It was the main reason Effie had been reluctant about keeping April and hadn’t Jo brought that up? Wasn’t she afraid of the same thing for Finn? After all, Johanna helped raise him but Annie was his mother, Jo was just the Aunt who lived with them, she didn’t have the same degree of responsibility. She was, for all intents and purposes, the boy’s second mother but she could have run if she had so chosen, she had no real obligation to stay. And she might feel it would have been safer if she didn’t. It must have been about that. The cell or her time in the arena, her instability…

If asked, Effie would never have pretended Johanna Mason was the best candidate to raise a child.

“She doesn’t know.” the victor said, so low she almost didn’t catch it over the noises April was making around her pacifier.

“Annie?” Effie clarified. “What doesn’t she know?” Johanna’s jaw clenched. Her body was tense, ready to snap. And it dawned on Effie. “Oh, darling… Did you fall in love with her?”

She wasn’t certain how that was going to work. As far as she knew, Annie was pretty much Finnick-oriented and…

“What?” Johanna scoffed. “No! What even…” Seven’s victor rolled her eyes, turning to face her – to better glare no doubt. “Capitols. Always have to see the wrong in everything. So what? ‘Cause we live together, you think I wouldn’t mind tapping that tree? You’re really…”

“Alright, alright. I understand.” Effie huffed, vexed. Perhaps she was letting the romantic in her speak and so what? “Then, pray tell, what doesn’t Annie know that would be so terrible?” Shame flashed on Johanna’s face, quickly followed by pain. “Oh.” She didn’t want to jump to conclusions this time around but… “Oh. When?”

For a moment, Effie wasn’t sure she would answer at all. Gone was the defiant aggressive victor, Johanna looked… She looked like she had in the privacy of their cell. Weak. Defeated. The arms she had crossed in front of her chest were less a commanding posture now, she was almost hugging herself.

“He loved her.” Johanna said quickly. “He always loved her. She was the one, you know. Greatest love. The whole fucking fairy tale thing.” It seemed important to her for that to be acknowledged so Effie nodded once. Jo turned to face the window once again. “Love is weird.”

“That, I won’t dispute.” Effie chuckled, a bit sadly.

“In the city… It was another world.” Jo snapped, a bit defensively. “You know how it was, you remember. Haymitch fucked you. It wasn’t as bad as that. Haymitch fucked you so…”

“Language.” she chided by reflex, glancing at April. “And I fail to see how…”

“So what if it happened a few times…” Johanna continued, apparently not having even heard her. “It was in the city and it doesn’t count. He only loved her. I was just…” She shrugged. “Stuff happens.”

Effie realized she wasn’t as surprised by the news Finnick and Johanna had slept together as she probably ought to have been. They had always been close. And Jo… Well… Effie should have figured it out sooner probably but with Annie in the picture, she hadn’t thought Four’s victor would…

“I am not judging.” she promised.

Johanna was right.

The city had been another world, the Games… The Games had distorted everything, had made everything ugly. It was human to have sought some solace in the middle of them. And she was certainly no one to tell Johanna what had been right or wrong. How many boyfriends had she cheated on with Haymitch?

The Games had been a very ugly bubble in the year where very bad things happened and not only in the arena.

“Annie doesn’t know.” Jo insisted. “Nobody knows.” The victor spared her a glare. “You don’t tell her or I’m gonna make sure you won’t tell anyone anything ever again.”

“Please.” Effie scowled. “Give me some credit.” She studied the victor, fingers drumming on her daughter’s back as she hesitated. She couldn’t not ask in the end. “Did you love him?”

“Love is weird.” was the immediate and only answer she got. Johanna took a deep breath and rubbed her arms, clearly unsettled. “Do I tell her?”

“Do you think you should?” she countered gently. “The way I see it… Perhaps some things are better left unsaid.”

Annie was fragile and easily unbalanced. What good would it do her to know her best friend had been having an affair with her dead husband long before they even got married? Honesty was often the best policy but in this case… In this case she wasn’t sure. It seemed a bit selfish for Johanna to unburden herself to the price of Annie’s hard earned peace of mind.

“Yeah.” Jo sighed. “That’s what I thought too. Just… Sometimes…”

“It becomes too much.” she supplied knowingly.

“It’s just not fair.” the victor sulked. “He should still be here. I’m the one who should be…”

“No.” Effie cut her off. “Only madness lies that way, trust me.” April started crying and no amount of rocking would soothe her. “She is hungry.” she explained apologetically.

Johanna waved her hand and they made their way down to the kitchen without further ado. Since she didn’t protest, Effie handed her daughter back to Jo while she got the bottle ready only to grab her back to feed her. She was still peculiar about who she allowed to do that.

Johanna was still looking in the distance and, when Effie eventually placed the empty bottle down, the victor blinked.

“She was the love of his life.” the younger woman repeated blankly.

“It doesn’t mean he couldn’t be the love of yours.” she commented wisely, squeezing her shoulder.

Johanna shrugged it off and stood up to rummage through the cupboards like a very ill-mannered person. Effie let her do as she pleased, only requiring she prepared enough for two when it became obvious Seven’s victor was making herself some tea.

She watched her eat through her stock of chocolate chip cookies, orienting the conversation on her travels instead of pushing the issue.

It was a difficult piece of information to swallow though, she mused much later, once they had all had dinner together and Johanna had retreated to Katniss’ house – where there was an actual spare bedroom. The house felt empty suddenly, without the children’s voice calling each other, laughing or simply talking loud…

She was tired and grateful that Haymitch had volunteered to take care of April. When he eventually walked back into the living-room, he looked a little worse for the wear too. She was sitting in the corner of the L shaped couch, Snowball sprawled on one side of her with his head on her lap – eager to earn her forgiveness for the earlier theft – and Haymitch wasted no time in dropping on her other side, cushioning his own head on her thigh.

“Competing for my attention, are you, boys?” she teased, a little distracted.

She stopped petting Snowball to comb her fingers through Haymitch’s hair – which the dog took offense at and nudged her hand, which was how she ended up with both hands busy.

“I’m fucking dead on my feet.” he muttered. “Always the same thing with that boy… He gets me to the bakery for one thing, then we end up moving furniture and what not…”

“It keeps you in shape.” she teased.

He grumbled something under her breath she didn’t catch. It was probably for the best anyway.

“How’s the jellyfish?” he asked, perking up a little. He reached out blindly with his hand but there was no easy way for him to access her stomach behind his head and he gave up quickly enough.

“Still making me eager for the morning sickness nonsense to be over.” she sighed. And then she pouted. “Johanna ate all my cookies.”

He snorted. “Ask Peeta for more.”

Her pout deepened. “He will get suspicious.”

“I’ll go to the store tomorrow.” he surrendered without much fight. That was the one good thing about being pregnant, Haymitch was much more likely to do what she wanted. “We need more diapers anyway.”

“We are low on apricot jam.” she hummed, tugging a little on his hair.

“I’ll stop by Sae’s and ask her for more.” he mumbled. “The kids talked.”

“Did they make up?” she asked eagerly.

“Can’t say.” he shrugged. “Peeta had me moving stuff by then. Couldn’t hear. They’re on talking terms… Beyond that…”

“We will see, I suppose.” she sighed, hoping they would all soon get past this and go back to how it used to be. She relaxed further against the back of the couch, completely exhausted. “Haymitch?”

“Yeah?” His voice was rough and she figured if they didn’t go to bed soon they would fall asleep right there.

“I swear I will murder you if you ever let this slip but…” she hesitated. “Did you know Finnick and Johanna…”

He briefly tensed and then relaxed. “Didn’t know for sure but… Chaff and I had our idea. She told you?”

“She feels guilty because of Annie, I think.” she whispered. “I told her not to say anything but I am not sure it was the best advice.”

He reached for the hand that had stilled in his hair and brought it to his lips. The familiar itch of his stubble on her skin was welcomed. “It’s the right call. It was a long time ago anyway. What’s the point of bringing it up now? Let sleeping dogs lie, yeah?”

“I feel sorry for her.” she admitted quietly. “She’s always been so lonely… She takes care of Annie and Finn but… Who is taking care of her?”

Haymitch mulled that over for a second and then sighed. “That’s your way of saying we need to pay more attention to her, yeah?”

“She is one of ours too.” she reminded him. “We lost Finnick but… She is still here.”

He kissed her hand again. “I hate it when you make so much sense, sweetheart.”

[remeny-writes]

Merry Christmas-ish Part 3

So this is for the @rpdrficexchange. I got matched up with @honeyedcurves and I really hope you like it. If you don't, I can write something different.

TW hospitals

“So I was thinking…”

“Always a dangerous activity.”

“Oh shut up!” Katya laughed then grew serious, “we should move our Christmas up to November 5th.”

Trixie could run one of two ways with this, he could tell Katya that a heart would come or he could crack a joke. He chose the latter, “you just want your present earlier, ya big ol’ baby!”

Katya elbowed him in the shoulder. “Why do you know me so well? You're so mean! But seriously can we?”

Trixie’s mouth hitched up on one side in a lopsided grin, “ok fine!”

He gave in just like Katya knew he would, playing perfectly into his plan.

They got the call on their special Christmas Eve, they were curled up watching a movie and eating lasagne, well more precisely Trixie was eating and Katya was pushing the food around on his plate before pushing the plate away all together and grumbling about not being hungry. He had been getting worse lately and had been hospitalized twice in the past 2 weeks.

Katy answered the phone with shaking hands, automatically putting it on speaker and setting it on his chest since he found it too taxing to hold the phone up without losing circulation in his hand.

“Brian, we have a heart for you.” Dr Gilmour announced, the excitement in her voice was almost palpable. “It’s in the air now, it's been double and triple checked so we won't have a problem like last time.”

“Ok, we’re on our way.” Katya said in a monotone before hanging up. He refused to get excited this time, the last time felt like his trashy heart was being crushed to smithereens.

Trixie squealed and hugged him gently before grabbing Katya’s portable oxygen tank and yanking the fully packed hospital bag out of the front closet and throwing their phones and laptop and their various cords in. It had been carefully packed for months in preparation for this moment. Trixie had found the list on Pinterest. It had the basics like toiletries, lip balm and lotion, magazines they hadn't read yet, ear plugs and sleep mask, slippers and loose clothing. Then it had things they would have never thought of, 2 empty refillable water bottles, snacks for Trixie to stress eat while waiting, a battery powered fan for white noise since Kat couldn't stand the beeping on his previous hospital stays and a stuffed Tenderheart Care-bear from Ginger. An adult colouring book and pencil crayons were suggested for the pre-surgery waiting jitters by a fellow heart patient whom they met on one of Kat’s hospital stays in the last 10 months.

Katya labouriously sat up in bed, switching to the shorter oxygen tubing to his portable tank, it was only 5:15pm but he was as exhausted as if it were 3am and he’d been working out for 10 days straight. He had to stop 5 times on the way to the car, breathing heavily and being supported by Trixie who had offered to carry him. He bristled and declined, it was totally emasculating to be offered to be carried like a child, even if it was by someone who loved him as much as he knew Trix loved him.

There were no jokes even though Trixie drove like a madman again. He was grinning madly, he couldn't help it. Katya felt hope ignite in his stomach, he tried to suppress it but soon there was a small grin on his pale blue lips too.

Trixie pulled up to the front door, “wait a sec.” He ran into the hospital and returned pushing a wheelchair which he almost careened in the side of his Jeep in his haste. Katya opened his mouth to protest but closed it with a warning look from Trixie. Trixie brought him into the lobby, pressing Kat’s phone into his hand, “call your Mum while I park the car.”

Trixie rushed away, practically skipping and humming to himself. Katya looked at his phone for a minute before tucking it into his pocket. He had to make sure this was real, he couldn't bear being any more of a disappointment to her. He was back to being numb, he had apparently successfully squashed that pesky flicker of hope.

“Hi Brian! You made it!” Dr Gilmour rushed over and hugged him, picking up his wrist to check his pulse as if by habit while she looked around. “Let’s get this show on the road, like I said the heart is in the air, should be here in 45 minutes. Where’s Firkus? You ready? How do you feel? When was the last time you ate and how much?” Her questions toppled out in her excitement, she had gotten attached to “the Brians" as she called them, she practically bounced in excitement. They were such a lovely couple and she had fought hard on behalf of Katya. He was a talented man that made a mistake and it shouldn't cost him his life.

“He’s parking the car, one bite of lasagne about an hour ago because Firkus was giving me his puppy dog eyes and before that a boiled egg, ½ a piece of toast and ensure this morning at around 10. Haven’t had much appetite. So there’s really a heart?”

She put a hand on her cocked hip as she rolled her eyes and quipped sarcastically, “no, there’s no heart. This is all an elaborate ruse Brian.” She then did an uncanny impression of the soup guy from Seinfeld, “no heart for you!”

Katya let out a giggle, “aha! I thought so!” Trixie rushed up to them, pulling Katya’s hand into his and swinging them slightly.

“Ok Firkus is here, let’s go get you a new heart Brian!”

“One second, I just have to call my Mum.”

Trixie let out an exasperated sigh, “you didn't believe it was really happening, did you?”

“He didn't. Sceptical, sceptical man!” She tsked with a wink and then checked her beeping cellphone and let out a very nonDoctor-like squeal, “it’ll be here early, in 30 minutes! Let’s goooooo!” She tapped her fingers on the counter until Katya hung up with his Mum and then she grabbed the wheelchair handles and they were off.

-------

“Daddy, why do we celebrate two Christmases?” A tiny girl in a scarlet velvet gown crawled into Trixie’s lap. He chuckled at her and put his guitar down as he wrapped his arms around her and pulled her close.

“Well, 6 years ago and 2 years ago, miracles happened on November 4th.”

“Oh really? What?” She bounced on his knee in her excitement, this story never got old to her.

“Well 6 years ago, a man in Florida unfortunately died, but he gave the ultimate gift by signing an organ donor card. Your Papa was really, really sick.”

“It was his heart, right?” She said seriously, her brown eyes wide. She pointed one chubby finger to the center of her chest. A wide pink scar was barely visible, peeking out of the top of her dress.

“Mmhmm, exactly right Barbara.”

“So Papa got a new heart right?”

“You know that the answer is yes.”

“What happened 2 years ago?” She asked with a twinkle in her eye.

“Oh it was very exciting! We got a new houseplant! That fern over there!” He laughed at her look of indignation.

“Daddyyyy!” Barbara whined and pouted, “tell the story right!”

“Oh ok! If I must,” he sighed in mock exasperation and then continued, “your Papa was feeling sick, his new heart was being grumpy so doctor Gilmour,”

“God-mommy Olive?”

He nodded into her hair and kissed the top of her head, “Yes God-mommy Olive, do you want to tell the story?”

“Noooo! I’ll be good, I promise!” She said seriously then squealed when Katya picked her up and tossed her in the air once before putting her down between them, she climbed up and he cradled her on his lap, Trixie scooched closer and put an arm around him.

“The Christmas-ish story? Again?”

“Mmhmm.”

“So I was sick,” Katya continued, “anddoctor Olive decided I should be in the hospital for a few days for some medicine. We were at the heart institute and when I was feeling a bit better, we went for a walk around the hall and noticed a teeny little 4 year old girl.”

“Me right?”

“Yes you! You were so small.”

“You were pretty sick,” Trixie took over the story like he did every night, “we found out later that you had been in and out of the hospital a lot and we felt sad that you were all alone. We didn't know where your Mommy and Dad were so we’d sneak in and sit with you and talk to you, sometimes I would sing to you. Then we found out that your Mommy and Dad were very young when they had you and too afraid to hurt you because they loved you so much so we snuck in in the night and stole you and ran fast!”

“Silly Daddy!! Then doctor Mark fixed up my heart and you adopted me, right?” She let out a huge yawn and snuggled in deeper, blinking up at them sleepily. She didn't need them to nod, she knew the story and had asked to hear it millions of times. “I’m glad,” she muttered as her long-lashed eyes fluttered shut.

Katya leaned over to Trixie and gave him a kiss, “Merry Christmas-ish dear.”

“Merry Christmas-ish honey, oh honey.” Trixie said with a giggle.

Katya sighed happily and thought ‘we started new traditions and we’ve made our own family because of it’ his newish-to-him heart filled with gratefulness and relief as he looked down at Barbara adoringly, 'I didn't destroy anyone.’

(hope the end wasn't to floofy!)

Dear beloved reader,

Thanks for reading my story! I hope you liked it and it just broke your heart a tiny bit but the ending glued it back together. Whether you liked it or hated it and want me to die in a fiery plane crash, feel free to send me feedback! Please?

On a serious note, please consider becoming an Organ Donor, it can even be put on your licence (or health card in Canada) if you think your family would disagree. It really is the ultimate gift and you can't take it with you. I, myself, am a tissue donor recipient, I am very grateful that it was an available option for my parents. (I was like 4 when we started to age 7)

Organ donation is also close to my heart as my Godbrother and very best friend, Jeremy, died when I was 12 while waiting for a heart. He was only 8.

I know it's a hard decision and I know some religions prohibit it, I would just be glad if this makes at least one person think about it.

Love and Glitter,

Remény

[dancingarchitect]

There have been times when I’ve wondered if Black Thought should be in the running for #goat emcee. This video is one of those times. My friend and colleague, drummer Morgan Childs, actually transcribed these amazing rhymes: Uh I’m sorry for your loss it’s somebody dead in a car and it’s probably one of yours The writin’ all across the window and the walls Whether it was true or false We shouldn’t have got involved Remember We walked past the teacher take the chalk and laugh We wrote punishments “I will not talk in class” Now it’s pistols punishing people for talking fast And all these innocent bystanders is haulin’ ass I hate to say “I told y’all” but I told y’all Things fall apart when the center to weak to hold y’all I’m just collecting what you owe to my owe jar You ‘bout to get swooped down on and stoled on Fools swear they wise, wise men know they foolish but we was headed for the web even before computers I never thought you’d give me a reason to do this Cain and Abel Jesus and Judas Caesar and Brutus I see intruders avert yer eyes I told you keep out of the hood Circumcise How could you sleep, I thought you always was the first to rise Eyo you heard the line Errybody plays the fool Well I be that exception to the rule The principal that hand deliver lessons to the school I was makin’ major moves My dollar déjà vu My mission when my ambition was brandishin’ the tool to be an icon wearin’ slippers made of python Get mine quicker ‘cause I’m slick as a pipeline Transportin’ the oil tribulation and toil hit the operation but I’m back in the soil Got my crown tilted, my gown quilted silk with cashmere burn the room down in a minute, built it last year Newsflash, I dodged the bullet that killed the cashier My homie told me to come with him to the masthead Them brothers said don’t go from written bars filled with rage to prime time television and your gilded cage Then forget there’s people in the world still enslaved I bar white at my wrist, and let it fill the page Gunfire and flare Sirens glare I’m in an iron chair with people who care don’t get the lion’s share When I don’t give a fuck then I ain’t fair I’m on a higher table people getting’ money like the finest hair Catch the herald I’m fresh chopped and beveled rap on a doctorate level so F Scott Fitzgerald Maybe I’m the new Rakim Maybe I’m Fab Pharoah Undergarments are armor be my intimate apparel Pre-Kardashian Kanye My rhyme play immaculate Same cadence as D.O.C. pre-accident Maybe my acumen is on par with Gucci rappin’ and gimme the proper respect motherfucker we back again For a couple things we lost in a fire the drive and desire to perform on a higher plateau I make that show lost in a mire Wondering how we got so far from inspired Look, when photos were sepia toned and record players were something you would keep in your home Yo the traveller the meanin’ Tariq he was known For the exemplary performance, uniquely his own I made the 21 pound for some a newfound religion When money’s put down there’s only one sound to make OGs and young lions equally proud to listen To seek what amalgam-ism an algorithm comin’ from where only kings and crowns permitted to darkness Where archaeologists found my image in parchment rolled into a scroll holdin’ a message for you It said the only thing fo sho is taxes death and trouble The anomaly, sworn solemnly high snobbery Freakinomics and war policy dichotomy That’s Heaven and Hades Tigris and Euphrates His highness, the apple of the iris to you ladies As babies we went from simolac to infomill to the internet and fentanyl when our consent was still against the will I got that detox for y’all The microphone doctor black Deepak Chopra I’m a griot that make you want to peacock your arm every heavy dignitary payin’ me top regards boy I’m three octaves far from the bi noc ulars so the smart money feelin’ get the heat out the car yo I’m K dot Lamar meets Tupac Shakur Got profiled by a few cops too hot to charge, listen somebody said a price tag was on a rapper’s head so we gonna see a nice bag when a rapper dead the mast black the flag green black and red they probably wave a white flag out the prasma shed (?) no doubt Yo the Game went they own route I can’t explain what these lame kids is talmbout Or how they fit they whole foot into their own mouth I put a couple bodies in a brown bag then I’m en route I’m sneaker shoppin’ with my stuntas size 8 prior to they release, cuz why wait? Look, in my state I got electrified gates for these blasé gods hatin’ at a high rate ‘cause I dodged fate then got great to fly straight if we ain’t family or friends then we don’t vibrate and I’m that Gun in yah face none of y’all safe If I catch you at the right time in the wrong place Slippin’ Sipping on somethin’ with a strong taste Like whiskey or bootleg bourbon with a corn base (Malavine?) take resemble a vehicular threat The mic I spray resemblin’ a sickle of death It ain’t strenuous to come from a continuous breath I set fire to the venue Imma spin you in step Rinse repeat You checkin’ for the sound of the beats I’m the hound I’m a creep I get down Imma eat Imma keep sumpin’ and lay a naysayer to sleep playin’ wit heat nobody and nothin’ fucking with ‘Riq yo these weaklings is claiming they cutting up in the streets Nigga peace You ain’t workin’ with nuttin’ but the police, listen you ain’t feelin’ to be nothin’ but the deceased, listen you in the tournament with a permanent crease I strike fear in the hearts of rap figures who mind bears the stigmas of time no black privilege From Boom Bap niggas To trap niggas you in the trap wit us When the lines is as vivid as the walls on that grab all the graph by the law to rap I reside between the seconds on the chronograph How much more CB4 can we afford? It’s like a sharia law On My Cherie Amour How much hypocrisy can people possibly adore? But ain’t nobody workin’ on a cure? My young boy Y’all just regular I’m an apex predator Brim stay fresh feathered up etcetera nevertheless I got a message of love One day a messenger yo my pen is Henry Kissinger Buzz Bissinger, look My caporegime Mr Noradeen and my oldest son Amin Saleem outta New Orleans Took a golf cart to the baccarat From the Waldorf What was on the walls? That depend on what you call art Imma say 300 k ain’t even in the ballpark I charge more just for awkward small talk So yes Who’s fuckin’ with it if it’s not the best? I get the lobby painted fresh upon my request It’s Kafkaesque His holiness stop the press that cobalt blue Reminiscing on my caress Lord, we got Padma Lakshmi for you Let her massage the back with black seed oil The foundation is firm, the flags need soil Me, I need royalty because I bleed royal Go through the veins to the brain fabulous and strange My journalistic range is a catalyst for change They got anybody to listen pissin’ flames and ‘cause the Hall of Fame got so many missin’ names I’ll acknowledge the original peoples not Oliver Y’all will the get the next challenger for Excalibur Um… more police for my core beliefs They tried to capture me and brand me on the cheek with a fleur de lis that side of my heart’ll be more discrete I’m international, my passport pages like War and Peace I’ve always played my part From the start Back in Philly where the triggers is mandatory to spark With the slightest inflammatory remark I have you in a livin’ a category apart, listen A grain of salt’ll tip the scales It never fails Walk on eggshells sleep on a bed of nails Criminal records like record sales Makin’ heads or tails we like Henrietta (L)acks Up in the cells My mother was a working class very loving woman who struggled, every dinner could have been her last supper (summer?) I come home chasin’ good for nothin’ half cousins and then walk in the crib to the smell of crack cookin’ she was introduced to that substance abuse or some of the strongest drugs that the gov’ment produced look, I even got excused by the principal My story is out of the dub dub interview I seen some ice cold summers, hot winters too I never thought I’d win Grammy awards with the Roots I never thought I would be getting’ long in the tooth My OGs told me “boy, you better go and live your truth” I am a walking affirmation That imagination and focus and patience gets you closer to your aspiration and just cuz they give you shit don’t mean you have to take it My words capture greatness sworn affidavits Yours truly the celestial being You stay seein’ pulling up in a fresh European High steppin out of it dressed to a T And not another got more soul, unless you Korean (!!!!) I’ve been Havin’ visions of Nat Turner holdin’ his master’s head like Yoric and Horatio in Hamlet Smackin’ it like a tennis racquet underhanded Send a message to the gram the eagle has landed Dressed in a military jacket made of canvass I am no guerilla/gorilla I just make ‘em go bananas I stand and wear black and green bandanas cocked hammers hairs on my chin is outstandings Can’t manage the weight of the world is just how I ball it Look, I’ve fallen from the sky to see my calling I’m not crawling I’m a free man like Morgan Seein’ manhood in the hood’s a damn good bargain If every black man don’t tap dance and every girl that got a fat booty don’t lap dance well I guess it’s something wrong, huh Niggas completely uninformed I don’t burn bridges, yo, I keep the haters round to fall I ain’t one of y’all peers I’m the sum of all fears Somebody stronger than me, who that? I mar ears like Obama I wish he had another four years Y’all some jolly good Hollywood squares I’m like “ahem” approach the author witcha offering I smoke rappers writin’ like my only offspring Being his excellency is to be exhausting You in the residency, you’re the one they call King Dolla Ali Baba the talented Mr Trotter Inside of my right palm the marker to stick My the big papa wig chopper Enter the Jaffe Jocker mawfucker I’m stronger than the coffee out in Kaffa All y’all make his vagina hot remind me of my kinda pop I step into the booth I’m a bull inside a china shop Mollywhopper washin’ of a cotton pickin body drop Every time we rock, yo they actin’ like it’s Mardi Gras Til the party stop ‘sgirl was like she there for rory gel (the fuck?) So we saw you pumpin’ that Earth Wind and Fire body ya Cool the Prada Dakar la Merino hard body up You seen another rapper cleaner, mami prolly not How it feel to be the best that did it I’ll admit it I’m visiting from planet bring these niggas down for minutes And y’all know I’m exquisite Wicked as Wilson Pickett The sickness I exhibit I’m too legit to quit it I don’t fake it til I make it, I take it to the limit and break it Never tentative when I’m bad I represent it A feeling just like chases Been a million places Conversation is how beautiful my face is People hated on how sophisticated my taste is Then I pulled up on these motherfuckers in a spaceship Panther mind I’m made of elements you can’t combine I’m at a level of intelligence you can’t define Einstein, Shakespeare, Voltaire, Tesla Recording artist slash psychology professor I preach for the east Never fold under pressure The beast from the east and I glide like Clyde Drexler Eyo my new name is Eighty Five Exes cause I’m the rap game certified specialist When I was reckless I was worried ‘bout the guest list I’m helpin’ rappers everywhere fulfill a death wish Yo Flex, I’m glad we made contact My nigga also know, this shit for combat Brain matta contain too much data I tell a story like fingerprints and blood splatter

[trashpandaorigins]

Sweet Child of Mine Ch 4

As a fanfic writer I cannot express how much comments mean to me! These fics do take an exorbitant amount of time to write with flash fics taking me anywhere from an hour to two hours and longer fics taking three hours to five or six. I write for free and all I ask is comments/feedback in return when you like and or reblog!

——–

Contrary to what one may assume, Drax the destroyer did not like seeing innocent people in pain. The only people he did enjoy seeing in pain were his victims and his victims were not innocent. So when he saw Groot whimpering in his pot, staring at his missing arm he shouted,

“Who has harmed smaller Groot? I will tear them limb from limb!”

“That would be Star-Freak!” Rocket yelled, frantically setting Groot’s pot down in their common area. The flora colossus still looked forlorn at the burtn edges of his shoulder but he had stopped crying.

“Is anyone else hurt?” Gamora asked, punching the button on the Milano which closed the hatch.

“N…no,” Peter huffed, looming over Groot. Drax shook his head. Rocket only waved a hand dismissively.

“We got the alkaline too then?” Peter pulled it from his pack.

“Good. I’ll set us on course to Nowhere.” Without another word she left them.

“Shit…is he okay?” Peter’s eyes looked over Groot with fervor.

“Apart from his missing arm he is fine.” Drax surveyed.

“Why did you attack me? Rocket I could’ve dropped him all together!”

“He was scared you dumb ass!” The enhanced raccoon did not turn from watering the little tree. “He’s always been a scardy cat and he didn’t like being hoisted down in there!”

“I did stuff like that all the time when I was little!” It burst forth from him before he could say. “This was nothing! Do you know how many times Yondu put my life on the line?!” Peter watched Rocket’s lips pull back in a teeth bearing threat though he still didn’t turn around. “I must’ve broken my arm a thousand times!” Memories of loud noises and shaking ground came back to him in a torrent of unease. “Groot came back after he was blown up! This is just his arm….now look I feel really bad about it Rocket, I really do but…” Yondu’s harsh bravado shouted in his mind.

“What the hell is wrong with you boy?!” Peter gritted his teeth and looked over the mammal’s shoulder. Groot seemed to be no worse for wear, his occasional moans made the human’s stomach go in knots but it could’ve been worse right? “You nearly got us all killed!” The blue alien had screeched when they were back on the ship. At thirteen years old, this was his seventeenth mission out in the field with Yondu’s crew and at least his hundredth time getting injured. Years later Peter could still remember the excruciating pain he felt. Looking at Groot’s sad little face brought it back.

“Yeah he can regenerate you dumb-ass!” Rocket whirled on him, though his gun stayed strapped to his back. “He can regenerate when he’s full grown but this has never happened to him before! I don’t know how long it will take him to grow his arm back, who knows if he even can!” The reddish-brown eyes narrowed in a contempt that Peter was momentarily immune to. The husky voice of the ravager berated against his skull.

“You damn idiot! How did you turn out so stupid?” He could see Yondu shake his head in dismay. “Knew I should’a let em’ eat you.”

“….my arm hurts…” his voice so small Peter himself could scarcely remember it. He could, however, remember the pain that came after when Yondu turned on him and punched him lightly in the shoulder. He remembered the blue ravager ordering their surgeon to check him out and the haphazard sling. Kraglin coming and checking on him a few nights later when he was crying in the ship’s bay. Peter’s childhood began and ended with his mother, his adolescence thrown together by Yondu and his crew and whatever job they were on.

“Just…let me know if he needs anything,” Peter called over whatever threats Rocket was yelling. With a wave of his hand he turned his back and made his way to the pilot’s chair.

“How’s Groot?” Gamora asked after some time. He sighed, already imagining the lecture she had in store.

“I think he’ll be okay after a few days.” He watched her nod and stare out into the galaxy ahead of them.

“We need to be better,” she said quietly.

“What do you mean?” He stole a look at her, frowning down in her lap as she expertly navigated the ship in the co-pilot seat.

“With Groot. You said it yourself he’s a child. We have a responsibility to him, to take care of him and to make sure he doesn’t end up like…” Peter huffed.

“What like me?”

“No.” She cut him off, glaring at him. “Like all of us.” Responsibility. One of his mother’s favorite words. He could almost smile at it. But like all of us? What was she getting at? Whatever it was, Gamora declined to elaborate.

“We’ll get the alkaline to the collector and then we see about getting Groot healed if he hasn’t regenerated already.”

“Of course.” Peter nodded, thrusting the ship forward. The sooner they got in and out of Nowhere the better in his mind. In the blackness of space Peter could see the ravager ship clearly in his mind. There’d only been one time during his own messed up childhood when Yondu had actually cared for his safety. After a failed robbery attempt in the Tristone Quadrant.

“Peter!? Stay still!” The tight coil around his head went tighter. The alien woman held him with an inexplicable strength. Yondu stood before him, frozen in place. Peter squirmed for the life of him but there was no other conceivable way of escaping. Sweat ran down his arms and legs, he tried to cough through the smoke but the suction of the tentacle that held him sucked all breath from his body. Peter could still recall that fear. The same fear he only now realized had been in Groot’s eyes. This…insert item here…is worth more than me? Why didn’t he recognize it sooner?

“I’ve become him….” He laughed.

“Who?” Gamora inquired. He tilted the Milano to the left, avoiding an asteroid.

“Yondu.” But if he had become like Yondu in his neglect and utter dumb-ass misguided parenting, (if you could even call it that,) …then maybe I can practice the good parts too…he recalled watching Yondu in his mind.

“Make one move and the boy gets it!” The fire-squid woman threatened. Peter’s wide eyes had found Yondu’s fear and for that split second, that terrifying moment he could see Yondu’s fear, his helplessness and something else he couldn’t quite place. He got out of it eventually, when Yondu had charged head first towards the monster, and had come out worse for wear because of it.

“It’s alright,” Yondu’s big warm, calloused hands carried him back to the ship. “Ain’t your fault boy,” that’s all he kept repeating. “It ain’t your fault.” He’d dropped Peter off, handing him to the crew and went straight to lay down. Peter shook his head, trying to dispel the memory.

“Yondu wasn’t all bad,” Gamora’s voice brought him back. “You’re here aren’t you? If he was really as bad as you make him out to be, you wouldn’t be here at all.” He shrugged, it was easiest not to think about it.

“Let’s just get to the Collector.” She nodded and thrust the ship forward.

“Do not trouble yourself small friend. Infants are stronger then they seem. One time my Kameria…”

“Shut up! I don’t care about your stupid kid!” Drax bristled. Rodent. He isn’t worth it. “Little Groot will be alright. Give him a few days.” He watched the strange squirrel creature rattle off a list of profanities while the small tree in question finally fall asleep. Kameria got into all sorts of trouble he recalled with bittersweet memory. There was the time she almost got her hand bitten off by a Razator, the time she fell off that ledge and other time she got roughed up by that other boy on the playground. He’d pulled her hair and she broke his jaw. He’d been so proud.

“I did it papa!”

“Good girl! You must never show mercy to those who wrong you.” He hugged her tight to him, her scent of wind blown hair and open fields, of dirt and a hint of sweat and sunshine.

“He pulled my hair really hard, see?” She pulled her blonde hair out of the way to reveal her scalp. Drax could still remember looking fine. Well…now that he thought of it there was bit of irritated redness. “So I had to punch him really hard just like you showed me!” Kameria made a fist, pudgy fingers curling inward. She stuck her thumb inside to protect it and jabbed outward, hitting his chest squarely.

“Ouch!” Drax recoiled, keeping her steady in his arms and watched her blue eyes go wide as orbs.

“Oh papa I’m sorry!” That did it, he deflated with laughter.

“I’m only kidding little bug!” The look of disappointment made him grin wider. “But I won’t be for long!” Her giggle in his memory was a choir of light. She wouldn’t be alive for long. Happiness mixed with sorrow and Drax sighed, breathe the pain out. It was something he learned after the first kill he made. When all the adrenaline drained out of him and he only had his grief left. He hoped every day that he gave Kameria a good childhood, but he would ever know for certain. He watched Groot sleep, the tiny stub of burnt bark at the end of his shoulder showed no sign of regrowth. He swallowed the stab of worry. The same flavor of anxiety he had whenever Kameria got hurt. Something about the feeling filled him with a small amount of…happiness? No, familiarity and a soundness in feeling such.

“How much longer till we reach Nowhere?” Rocket growled, sitting on a makeshift stool, he leaned over on the table looking over the small plant.

“I would guess three leaps at least.” The varmint sniffed irritated.

“Great.” Drax frowned,

“How is that grea…”

“Sarcasm.” He nodded, pretending as hard as he could that he understood. Rocket only glanced at Groot in his pot one last time before trudging off to work on some unknown project.

“You are leaving him unsupervised?” Drax could not believe the foolishness leaving an unattended child alone. An unattended hurting child.

“He ain’t a baby! He was scared but that don’t make him a child!” Drax frowned, how could the varmint be so confused. I thought he was at least an intelligent animal. Rocket didn’t elaborate, only cursing until he was out of sight. Groot’s good arm hung limply, head lolling. Drax felt the Milano glide soundlessly through the stars. Odd. Quill usually plays music. There was no music tonight. He glanced around and only then approached the plant.

“….I do not know why.” He sat, little Groot breathed deeply, eyes moving beneath his wooden lids. “You remind me of her.” He shook his head at the strangeness of it. Why? He mulled over it while sitting, waiting, watching. There was nothing he could do to help the little Groot, but he could at least sit to be there when he woke. He used to do the same when Kameria was first born and although this brought him no solace from his grief, it did seem to soothe his spirit. Drax the Destroyer needed little rest he would stay and watch the plant. He was not good at understanding the words of others. But he understood their actions and inactions. Groot slept and he observed. He was good at that.

“I got it Gams,” Peter said after awhile. “You can go sleep. It’ll be awhile before we reach Nowhere. Maybe check on Groot?” She was sure the plant was fine. She had to believe he was. I did nothing to protect him. Never have. She only nodded and made her way to her own quarters, spying Drax along the way. He sat diligently, his eyes now softly looking over the tiny tree. All seems well, in her room Gamoa slid the iron door shut. Wringing her hands she sat on the edge of her bunk, hands folded and head bent. We have to make sure he is not raised. We have a responsibility to him, to take care of him and to make sure he doesn’t end up like us. Like me. She sighed, ignoring the aching in her own metal implants, one of the more memorable pieces of her own childhood. Before Thanos she was sure there was something. She knew he killed her parents, she remembered that. She remembered their deaths and watching out the window of the ship as all she’d ever known until that point was destroyed. But for the life of her, she could not remember the intricacies of her upbringing before Thanos. No favorite food, no happy nights reading stories with her mother, or walks with her father. Even Quill had music at least. She had screams and silence in the rooms where Thanos trained her. No one deserves that upbringing. No one….not even Nebula. Gamora strode to her lifting weights. Ten, fifteen, twenty…thirty, fifty pounds. With a heave she lifted, her core burning as the hoisted the beam above her head. Her feet planted firmly into the floor. The aching pain vibrated through her, giving her a focus for her thoughts. She bent her arms, the pain changed slightly, then lifted again. Up and down went the warm strain of muscle and machine inside her. When fighting and keeping up her strength the two parts of her worked in tandem quite well. Whenever else, they were a contradiction, a dark reminder that Thanos’s power would always be inside her. No matter the ends to which she used it. It was there. Fifteen more times she lifted her weights, adding five lbs each time. Then she spared, then cleaned her weapons and burid herself deeper in distraction. Only when she was sure that no one else was up did she come to the common area and found herself smiling at the little flora colossus sleeping form. “He’s still asleep?” Drax nodded, she moved to sit beside him and watched as he scoot over for her. Smiling she looked at Groot.

“Get some rest Drax, it’s been a long day.”

“This day is no longer then any other.” Gamora explained and he smiled sheepishly. “You don’t have to be embarrassed. It’s alright.” He stood,

“Thank you.” The rare frankness in his eyes made her grin. “…and thank you for assisting me today in our fight. You are a worthy companion in battle.”

“Thank you Drax.” He nodded, sparing a moment to gently caress the top of the sleeping Groot before leaving. In the stillness Gamora watched the baby tree.

“I’ll never let what happened to me, happen to you.” She vowed with as much seriousness as if she were vowing to a full grown companion. “Today I failed in that duty and you were hurt. I will not fail you…” the image of his spores, yellow and calm filled her eyes. The serenity as they fell, his deep resonating voice. “I will not fail you.” As if on cue Groot blinked his eyes awake. He looked up in her in confusion for a few moments, only to smile and reach for her hair. He tugged gently, producing a laugh from her. “You aren’t in pain any more are you?” He only tugged her hair again and made a squeak of joy. Little thing is going to make me go soft. She thought, not all too ashamed. They played until even the assassin’s eyes grew heavy and Groot again began to doze off, one miniature wooden hand grasping her finger. “And Rocket say’s you’re not a baby.”

These. Flarking, Compressor. Coils. Rocket tried again, just as he predicted the turbines on the Milano were getting all gummed up. The inner workings of the thrusters were also shabby. Cheapskate. He added it to the list of reasons he was gonna shoot Star-Mooch in the leg one of these days. Sighing the mammal continued his work at a frantic pace. Working with the motors kept him from thinking about how badly he’d already failed his promise to do a better job being Groot’s partner. He whirled the coil around and cut it short, trying to attach it to the main converter. He ain’t a kid. He’s still Groot. Still my Groot. Rocket’s mouth watered for alcohol, any drop of it, but they hadn’t landed anywhere in a while long enough for him to stock up. No one else was up, he knew that much from the lack of noise about the ship. Even Gamora who normally stayed up the latest was now asleep. Rocket worked, snipping, tucking, and manufacturing the thrusters on the Milano, improvising wherever he had to. Groot ain’t a baby…ain’t a child or anything else but small and he’s going to grow…Rocket didn’t know what a childhood was. He had a vague scent-based memory of something warm and musk smelling. He always assumed it was his mother. But beyond that single smell Rocket could only remember chemicals and iron and plastic. He never had a childhood, he had the process by which he was made into what he was now. Some little monster. He knew patronizing very well, he knew what it was to be delegitimized, infantilized. Reduced to a freak or a fluffy pet and Groot was none of these things. No matter how tiny and helpless he was for now. Rocket inspected the last of the turbines, making last minute tweaks and only after testing them did he go to the engine room. He spotted Groot along the way. In his pot, one limb missing. It made him recoil with guilt. He ain’t a kid….he’s just…growing. He’s still my Groot. Isn’t he?

[fivenightsatfreddysfanfiction]

Do Me A Favor?

Damien has a favor to ask of Jeremy that is a favor asked of him by Stephanie Daughn. Jeremy has reservations about this favor and the lack of information on what is going on.

Jeremy jumped in his chair at the sound of his door slamming open and then closed, a young man's voice calling out loudly.

"Mr. Fitzgeraaaaald! Can I ask ya a favor?!" Damien ran into the workshop with bright eyes and a wide grin, an air of mischief around him. Jeremy turned in his chair with a faint groan of exasperation, fingers typing a quick command to save his work.

"I told you it was fine to call me Jeremy. Mr. Fitzgerald is what people called Papa and it feels weird when you call me that," he pointed out sternly. Damien stuck his tongue out, blowing a raspberry at him in response. "Very mature." He carefully rubbed fingertips over his eyes to soothe the strain of studying his screen for several hours. "Why are you here? What's this favor?"

"You know Ven's sister? She's friends with the lady that worked at Freddy's sister location and says that she took some data from the place before it all went-" Damien put his hands together at the fingertips, then pulled them apart dramatically, "-fwoooosh~!"

"Okay, I'm pretty sure that's illegal and I don't know if I want to be part of any of that," Jeremy remarked dryly, gesturing to encompass the smaller young man as if to ward off any more of the words. Damien rolled his eyes as he unshouldered his backpack, dropping it onto one of the workbenches and using it to nudge aside several parts to an order that Jeremy had yet to finish. "Hey, easy on Chibi Chica. I need to assemble and ship her out in working order."

"Isn't using the names and designs of the Fazband without the company's approval illegal too?" Damien asked sweetly, batting his eyelashes at him. Jeremy felt an eye twitch.

"Haaa... go on."

"Okay, so you remember the news about that rental place that went bust?" Damien started, opening his backpack and digging around inside.

"Circus Baby's Entertainment and Rental? Yeah. Some of the stuff that was hauled out of there looked like the Toys. I thought the guy who owned the place stole designs from Papa and his siblings, the similarities were really close," Jeremy commented thoughtfully before blinking. "Wait, are you telling me that's the sister location?!"

"Yeah! Wild, huh?" Damien returned with laugh, pulling out a hard drive. "Anyway, so the lady that worked there as the technician did a dump of some of the data from their mainframe. Said it was stolen from her family so she was just taking what belonged to them and leaving the rest to burn." Jeremy raised an eyebrow at the drive now being held out to him. "Steph asked her for a copy and then asked me if I could ask you to take a look at it and see if there's anything we can build using the data."

He reached out and carefully took the drive in his hand, looking it over carefully. It looked to be an expensive model, capable of storing a very large quantity of data. Not something Damien could afford, but Stephanie Daughn would be able to with her fashion design-funded account.

"There's an animatronic schematic on here? That's pretty much all we can build, remember?" Jeremy asked as he turned in place to plug the drive into the computer. Damien pulled up a chair beside him and shrugged.

"I guess? The lady didn't say much about what went on down there, but she really wanted one of the animatronics to escape with her, according to Steph." The young man shook his head a little. "It didn't make it out."

Jeremy hummed to himself with a frown, clicking open the drive and searching through the file system for anything that could be blueprints for animatronics. It seemed out of the ordinary, for someone working at a Fazbear establishment to try and rescue an animatronic. Usually the machines were all attempting to kill the guards because of glitches or hacks or possession by angry spirits. Why would anyone want to pull a killer robot out of a place housing them?

Router's taunting words and laugh rang distantly in his memories and Jeremy shook his head hard to dismiss them.

Many of the files he saw right away looked strange. He recognized patterns for the framework of an A.I. but the software looked incomplete and fragmented in some cases. Several times his computer warned him of broken files and asked if he wished to attempt to repair them. The first time he almost clicked 'yes' but Damien pulled his hand away from the mouse.

"Leave it. Steph said everything has to stay exactly as it is on the drive. We're only supposed to get a copy of the blueprint she described," he said firmly.

"Your friend's friend wanted broken data?" Jeremy asked, one eyebrow hiking up.

"It's better that way. We don't want to see this fixed." Damien's eyes flicked black with glowing gold pupils. "Trust me on this."

So there was a spirit attached to the mess that happened there. Jeremy pursed his mouth into a thin line, humming to himself again as he continued digging through the files. If these broken files had something to do with it, then why would anyone want to bring that spirit out? Save it rather than banish it?

"Oh, hey, here's something." Damien pointed at the screen suddenly. "BAL... Ballora, maybe?"

"What the hell is a 'Ballora'?" Jeremy muttered, clicking on the file. His software ran a compatibility check before opening the blueprint. He squinted, frowning again as he looked over the schematics of what appeared to be a ballerina animatronic and then read over the mandatory hardware specifications. "Why the fuck was this built to divide parents from children? This is the exact opposite of the way the Toys were built and programmed." He looked over at Damien's scowling expression, a replica of the one he remembered seeing on his father's face numerous times before.

"I doubt we're getting the full story right away. This is something to investigate. For now, that isn't the animatronic we're after," the young man returned.

Jeremy printed a copy just in case, then closed the file and looked around for similar named blueprints. There were two named 'FF', one denoted with a '-BB'.

"Balloon Boy?" he asked aloud, opening the file. The blueprints of a familiar bear appeared on the screen, with equally as damning specs as Ballora. A rabbit shaped handpuppet gave Jeremy his answer; Bonnie or BonBon. Possibly stolen from the Fitzgerald Toys' designs? He traced out a wireframe model within the blueprint with his fingertip. "This is a storage tank, right? Is that... a person? Is this a springlock suit?" He studied the blueprint more closely, bringing up the model into three-dimensional view. "No, there's the endoskeleton and it's not compressed. This person is tucked into the storage tank. ...Abduction?"

"Definitely not the one Steph wants us to build." Damien huffed, sitting back in his chair with his arms folded over his chest. "What the fuck was going on in that place?"

"These animatronics are massive. Bigger than anything built for Freddy Fazbear's Pizza," Jeremy pointed out with a shake of his head. "No reason for entertainment animatronics to be so damn big. But I suppose hiding kids away inside themselves for transporting is one. How has no one come forward to say 'Hey I rented these things for a party and now a bunch of kids are missing'?" Damien shrugged again and Jeremy closed the file.

He left the other 'FF' file alone and hummed thoughtfully at another pair of files. 'Baby v1' and 'Baby v2'. Were there differences there that were important? Jeremy opened the first file and both he and Damien studied it.

A pig-tailed animatronic clutching a microphone appeared on the screen, its specifications including voice imitation and ice cream lures. Another one of those kidnapping robots; Jeremy frowned heavily. This one was even larger, towering over even Ballora. Something was folded within the body... some sort of claw? Like from a crane game?

"It looks close to what Steph said. A robot with pig-tails and a skirt, she said." Damien tilted his head, "But this one's too big. Stephanie said the one her friend was after was smaller. Like about as tall as her or Mike."

So, version 2 then. Jeremy closed the file and clicked on the other one. A similar blueprint opened, with a smaller and sleeker model of the pig-tailed animatronic. This one had the same voice mimicking ability but lacked the machinery and space for capturing and storing a child. Why had that been removed for this model but not the others?

"Oh yeah! That's the one!" Damien exclaimed, leaning forward to study the schematic. "Do we have the stuff to build this one?"

"Not at that size, no. I'd have to special order the materials to build her to these specs," Jeremy sighed, reading over the rest of the blueprints for the updated Circus Baby animatronic. "And this part here. It says she was built specifically to use the Eggs Benedict A.I. core. What is that? Sounds like something based on Android software...."

Damien squinted, muttering something under his breath. "...of them?" He spoke more clearly. "Steph said that that was what was stolen from her friend's family. The Eggs Benedict A.I.; it's a special software that took decades to compile."

Jeremy raised an eyebrow at that, then the other. "Decades? You're telling me some company stole old software from some family and only recently installed it into an animatronic, and that family barely did anything about it until now? Why not sue for ownership?" he asked incredulously. So maybe spirits weren’t involved? But then why would his father care about making sure the files on the drive stayed fragmented? "How would decades-old software even be compatible with today's technology?! Did they build this thing to be backwards compatible?" He looked again at the blueprint, searching harder for signs of old tech embedded in it. "It's old, so maybe.... when was the software stolen?"

Damien shrugged, glancing away. "I dunno exactly. Like early 80's or something?" he answered out of the side of his mouth, trying to make the words hard to understand. Jeremy twisted in his chair again, eyes wide and mouth open.

"The 1980's?! Are you fucking serious?!" he exclaimed, voice rising into a shriek, "Why would some animatronic rental company give two shits about installing and running software that took nearly 60 years to compile into a functioning artificial intelligence?!" Damien shrugged again, a look of innocence on his face that didn't fool Jeremy one bit. "And we're supposed to build a copy of this thing? Without that A.I., it's just gonna be useless."

"Oh, Steph said we don't have to worry about it. Her friend has a working version of the A.I. already. She just wants us to build the hardware to install it." Damien replied cheerfully, waving away Jeremy's concerns. "So can we do it?"

"Expensive ass favor..." Jeremy grumbled as he printed out the blueprints for a paper copy and left the digital version open for reference and modifying.

"Steph said she'll pay for supplies."

".... Pass me the phone. I gotta call my guy for parts."

END

[ineffable-bisexual]

RanSid dads au ficlet: Baby Megan arrives!

John stood in the nursery in the soft glow of the blue lamp that sat on an old set of chest of drawers. He and Sidney had found the chest of drawers in Rome’s Attic Consignment and, with the help of Byron and his Bronco truck, they brought it home to sand, polish, and lacquer its wood to look like new.

The top drawer was filled with an assortment of baby onesies in different pastel colors and shirts with cartoonish animals, lady bugs, and bumblebees. Tiny socks and bloomers were neatly folded next to shirts along with burp cloths. The second drawer contained two baby-sized bathrobes, one yellow and one purple, and soft cotton hats, some of them with animal ears on the tops of them. The third drawer was stocked with clean diapers and boxes of baby wipes.

He was standing between the crib and the wardrobe, both a canary yellow that they had bought brand new at the IKEA in Charleston. They had spent hours in the nursery showroom with John loading the giant shopping bag with stuffed animals and pillows. Sidney carried in the crook of his elbow a small grey owl with bright golden eyes. He had been drawn to it and thought it would make a good sleep mate for the baby.

Enclosed in the wardrobe were a few outfits hanging on baby-sized hangers: little denim pants, pink overalls, blue sundresses with striped bloomers, as well as sweaters and jackets; gifts from friends in John’s Bible study group and his fellow professors at the community college where he taught Theology and Religious Studies.

John reached into the crib and unfolded the pink and baby blue quilt that Rose Giles had made for the new arrival. He moved around to the front of the crib and draped the blanket over the back of it. He pressed out the wrinkles and straightened it, making sure the image of the Precious Moments girl shepherd with her lambs was front and center.

He gazed into the empty crib and smiled as he picked up the wide-eyed stuffed grey owl that was propped in the corner.

“Honey,” came Sidney’s tired voice from the door, “it’s late. What are you doing?”

John turned as his husband approached his side and he gave him a gentle kiss on the lips. “Hey, baby,” he replied. He quickly stroked the tiny beak of the owl before setting it back in its place.

“Putting on the finishing touches?” Sidney asked with a grin.

John sighed. “I couldn’t fall asleep. Do you think the owl is too scary lookin’?”

Sidney clicked his tongue. “That’s ridiculous. He’s the cutest owl ever and she’s gonna love him.”

“Yeah, I guess so,” John told him.

There was a moment of quiet as Sidney rested his chin on John’s shoulder. “Are you too excited to sleep?” Sidney asked.

John shrugged. “Maybe…I think I’m more nervous than anything. I don’t have a lot of experience with babies. What if I drop her?”

“John Anderson, you’re not gonna drop the baby,” Sidney said with an amused giggle.

“You don’t know that!” he retorted with a genuine look of concern. “What if when she starts walkin’ around, she runs into the corner of one of the end tables…or gets under the sink? Oh, Lord. I knew I should have bought those cabinet locks.”

“Darlin’,” Sidney said calmly as he placed his arms around John’s waist. “You’re planning too far ahead. She’s barely two months old.” He kissed the back of his neck. “You’re already becoming such a big Papa Bear.”

John smiled. “I like that.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah…’Papa,’ I mean. Should we even refer to ourselves as her…fathers?”

Sidney nodded without hesitation. “I think so. Even if we are her temporary dads. Besides, the state of West Virginia took their sweet time to give us fostering rights in the first place. I think we’re allowed that small luxury.” He looked at John who didn’t reply but just kept staring into the empty crib again. “What else is on your mind, hun?”

John blinked and bit his lip. “Just another ‘what if,’” he said. “You’ll think I’m silly.”

“I already do. What is it?”

John lifted his eyes to him, saying, “What if they change their minds?”

Sidney didn’t speak but just squeezed his waist again. “Come to bed, John,” he whispered in his ear. “This may be the last time in a long time we’ll get to sleep through the night.”

The next morning, they sat quietly at the breakfast table as John poked at his Life cereal as it was getting soggy, relying instead on the sustenance of his black coffee. Sidney was barely reading the newspaper and could suddenly feel a slight vibration on the floor as his husband’s leg bounced nervously. He reached across the table and gently took John’s hand and stroked his fingers. The bouncing stopped and they smiled at each other.

After they had freshened up and gotten dressed, John looked over the nursery once more as Sidney straightened the books on the coffee table and quickly dusted the end tables by the sofa.

When the last-minute cleaning was finished, Sidney sat on the sofa with his hands in his lap. John stood at the window, looking out at their driveway.

“Jesus,” he muttered. “I really want a cigarette, but I don’t wanna smell bad.”

Sidney smiled, saying, “I think you can go a few more hours, John.”

“Maybe it’s time for me to quit,” he sighed, “for real, this time.”

“Uh huh…”

John looked at Sidney. “You don’t sound convinced.”

“Only because you’ve been saying those exact words since college.”

John smirked. “Well…maybe this is the right time. We’re gonna have a baby in the house now. I don’t want her growin’ up associatin’ the smell of cigarettes with her foster home.”

“Baby, come on, you’re gettin’ too worked up,” Sidney said. “Come sit next to me.”

John complied and Sidney took his hand. “This is gonna be great,” he assured him. “You know that in your heart.”

John nodded. “I’m keepin’ the faith. I’m tryin’.”

“Darlin’, you’re gonna be such a great papa, even if it’s for a little while.”

“Yeah?” John asked, giving Sidney a shy grin. “I just wanna do right by her, the poor thing. Being abandoned and all. She’s got no one in this world, I just hope—“

“She has us,” Sidney said as he squeezed John’s hand. He lifted their clasped hands to his lips and kissed John’s knuckles.

The sound of wheels pulling into the gravel driveway made them jump slightly, and they laughed.

“Here she is,” Sidney announced. “Let’s go.”

“Okay…” John breathed. He could feel his heart racing in his chest as they opened the front door.

The social worker was accompanied by a young nurse from the State home. The nurse carried a portable car seat, its light purple visor completely covering the little bundle that was making soft grunting noises as they alighted onto the front porch.

“Good mornin’,” the nurse said in melodious whisper.

“Mornin’,” John greeted. “Is she sleepin’?”

The nurse shook her head. “She’s just now wakin’ up, but I don’t wanna startle her with too much noise.”

“Agreed,” Sidney said as he looked down at the carrier, an excited smile stretching across his face.

After a few pleasantries were exchanged and the social worker retrieved a stack of paperwork from her valise, the nurse lightly placed the car seat on the floor and pulled back the purple visor.

John got onto his knees and placed his hand over his mouth as tears burned his eyes. “Oh, Sid…” he said in a cracked voice, smiling.

Sidney knelt beside his husband and whispered, “Oh my goodness…she’s the most beautiful baby…oh my Lord…”

She was moving her head from side to side in waking up from her slumber. Copper red hair grew thick on her slightly domed scalp and her little hands were clenched. The baby yawned and opened her eyes, making John and Sidney fawn over her once more.

“She’s got the bluest eyes I’ve ever seen,” Sidney declared. He reached into the car seat and stroked one of her hands with his forefinger. “Hello, there, sweetheart,” he whispered to her. “Hello, Megan. Welcome to our home.”

The baby stared at them with wide, curious eyes and she cracked a half-grin as she stretched her arms above her head and grunted out a tiny laugh.

“Oh, Lord,” John said as he wiped his eyes. “She’s the most perfect little angel sent from heaven.” He felt Sidney put his arm around his shoulder and they leaned against one another as they gazed at her.

1:00am

Megan opened her eyes and found yellow bunnies hovering above her. She gurgled as she blinked, and her tummy rumbled. The sudden noise startled her and she whined. The whine eventually became a soft cry which then became shrill. She lifted her arms over her head to reach out for the bunnies, but they just continued staring at her.

Sidney had just dozed off, having resisted a deep slumber so that he could listen for the baby to wake up, and just in case the baby monitor didn’t work properly. He found that his husband had anticipated the same scenario because when Sidney jumped out of bed and put on his robe, he found that John was already in the nursery.

He leaned against the door frame and watched as John carefully lifted Megan out of her crib. His dirty blonde hair was ruffled and he was wearing his university t-shirt and plaid boxer shorts.

Sidney approached them as John rested Megan against his chest. Her crying had ceased but she was still whining. “I’ll go warm up a bottle,” he whispered as he kissed John’s shoulder.

“Okay,” John whispered in a tired voice. He softly patted the baby’s diapered bottom and playfully gasped. “Oh, my,” he said to her, “you’re soaked! I’m sorry, baby.”

He laid her on the changing table and unbuttoned her onesie. “No one likes to sit in their own puddle,” he said, exaggerating his already pronounced West Virginia accent. He noticed this voice made her giggle. “Yew like that?” he asked her in the voice. “Yew thank Papa sounds fuh-nee?” He pushed up the bottom of her onesie and she watched him intensely as he concentrated on changing her diaper.

John stole a quick glance at her furrowed brow and laughed. “Gimme a chance here, little ‘un. I’m new at this.” He cleaned her with the baby wipes next to him. After he threw away the wipes, he pressed his lips against the soles of her tiny feet and gave them quick kisses.

She shrieked out a laugh and proceeded to eject a stream of fresh urine onto John’s shirt.

John slightly jumped but didn’t let go of her feet. When she was done, he looked down at her with a smirk as he produced new baby wipes. “You little stinker,” he playfully scolded her as he cleaned her once more. “Papa’s gonna have to learn to do this faster, huh?”

When the fresh diaper was securely fastened, John removed his soaked t-shirt and tossed it into the baby hamper with the stained burp cloths. He cleaned his hands and chest with another baby wipe before fastening her onesie and lifting her from the changing table. “Let’s go see what’s takin’ Daddy so long,” he said as they descended the stairs.

They found Sidney in the den testing the milk’s temperature by sprinkling it on the top of his hand. John motioned to the sofa with a quick jerk of his head and handed Megan to him. They sat close to one another as Sidney positioned Megan in his arms. She eagerly took the bottle’s nipple into her mouth and made loud sucking noises as she ate. She gazed up at Sidney with curious eyes and the corners of her little mouth curled in a slight smile.

Sidney smiled back. “Is that good, darlin’?” he asked in a soft voice. “Why, yes, Daddy,” he answered for her, his voice an octave higher. “I was starvin’!”

John grinned as he put his chin on his husband’s shoulder and stroked Megan’s fingers. She took his finger and gripped it as she continued to suck the bottle.

“Where’s your shirt?” Sidney asked him.

“We had a little accident,” John replied.

“She spit up on you, huh?”

John shook his head. “It was wetter than that.”

“Oh, my goodness,” Sidney laughed and shook his head. “It was inevitable.”

“I know…just don’t tickle her feet,” John warned. “I think that’s the trigger.”