#i just want a tall hat to hide the rats that control my life

[gayrfield]

d'y'all know where can I find a rat to control me? im getting tired of making decisions

[whatwashernameagain]

Keep him safe - Chapter 25

You can read the previous Chapters here: Ch 1, Ch 5, Ch 10, Ch 15, Ch 20, Previous Chapter, Ao3 Link, Lo’s, Pat’s and Virgil’s aesthetics, Fantasy AU You are Magical, I’m dying to be with you

Pairings: Logan/Patton, Roman/Virgil

Words: 8.095

Warnings: violence marked with ///////////////////////, sexual abuse marked with +++++++, blood, insults, self-hate, bad expectations of relationships, mentioned unhealthy weight loss, body insecurity

Summary: Detective Logan Sanders and his best friend and dorky partner Roman Prince have made a dear friend in the lovely pattisier Patton. Logan however feels a lot more than friendship for the sweet man, even though he knows he cannot possibly have him. Their routine is broken abruptly when Logan finds bruises on Patton’s fair skin and slender wrists he could hardly have received from his costumary clumsiness. Meanwhile his partner Roman has his own demon to fight, which comes in the form of a little delinquent who seemed to have been pulled into a street gang quite against his will. Roman is determined to help the strange young man. It would be so much easier though if he just stopped hissing at him!

Notes: I have nothing to say for myself. My betas @ultimate-queen-of-fandoms2 and @hanramz-the-fander are the best, I love all of you, please take care of yourself! And check out the art at the end of the chapter!

Chapter 25

A thunderous crash following a whoop of joy penetrated the peacefulness of the isolated office. Both Logan and Captain Holt ignored the sound with the stoic determination of men used to the shenanigans of Jake Peralta and Roman Prince respectively.

The aforementioned detective had survived a near encounter with a stray bullet that had (barely) grazed his ‘beautiful face’ and had therefore immediately enlisted both Roman and Gina to throw him a party fit for the miracle of his survival and his general good looks and heroism. Roman had instantly thrown himself into organizing a play fit for the epic tale and had begun roping in officers too slow to escape his enthusiasm. The young man who had been swooning over him the last few days had been delegated to raiding the lost-and-found box for costumes. Logan estimated that their Captain would permit them another 48 minutes of frivolous displays before returning the precinct to its proper state of professionalism, barring a certain margin of error in case the fire extinguisher should make an appearance once again of course. Roman had been drawing up rather disturbing images of fog and explosions. Understandably, both men had therefore chosen to hide from the undignified behavior behind the safety of the closed office door.

“Would you care for an unsalted, assorted mixture of nuts, Nicodemus?” The Captain’s pleasantly monotonous voice inquired politely. The lack of emotion displayed by the other man was just to Logan’s liking today. A song being pitched and a shirt hitting the glass door with a ‘thud’ behind him were stoically ignored.

The therapy rat in question squeaked in affirmation, curiously standing on its hind-legs to pay attention to their conversation. The choice of respectively one almond, peanut, walnut, hazelnut and  pistachio kernel were laid out before it in an orderly row. Nicodemus grabbed the hazelnut with his little paws, before giving a polite squeak.

“A very sensible choice.” Holt commended. “In my opinion, the pistachio kernel is such a purposelessly showy nut. It is certainly nut the most nutritious nut, despite its… gaudy coloring.”

Trying and failing not to show a small smile at the bad pun and the following association, Logan responded, “Indeed.” Nicodemus hopped around the laid out object of their observations and gave the Captain an unobtrusive tap on the hand like Roman had taught him before selecting a walnut.

“Your therapy rat displays quite pleasing manners.”

“He certainly does. I would expect nothing less from a distinguished pet such as him.” Another crash rattled the office, followed by a wailing complaint. “Unlike other… pets I have been told I have apparently acquired.” Logan grumbled, thinking back of Remy calling Roman his pet. Preposterous.

Meanwhile, Roman had scaled the makeshift stage and was narrating ‘The Incredible Story of the Heroic Survival of the Amazing Jake Peralta’, starring Jake Peralta as Detective Peralta, among other ‘volunteers’.

“Just as our dramatic hero believed the day to be saved, evil rose from the shadows beyond!” Roman cried, narrating the event that had caused his colleague to tragically wear a colorful band aid over his brow from his perch on four pushed together desks. He was a grand storyteller, lovely and captivating, making his audience wait with baited breath for the next part of his masterfully orchestrated play as he held his pose. And held his pose.

Annoyed, he cleared his throat, his voice becoming slightly high pitched. “Evil rose from the shadows beyond!”

A bag of chips rustled among the waiting detectives. Roman keened in annoyance, feeling his theatrical genius slighted. This would not do, he was aiming for a tale worthy of Broadway producers here! Renewing his pose with passion, he screeched, “EVIL ROSE!”

With a sigh, Logan rose from his chair in the safety of adult company. “Would you please excuse me, I believe I am missing my cue.” Putting on a preposterous bowler hat stolen from evidence with very little enthusiasm, he slunk into the bullpen.

“Prepare to die, fiend!” He growled while stiffly waving around a spotted umbrella for ‘dramaturgical reasons’, incredulously wondering why on earth he was doing this. Roman’s face lit up with happiness.

***

‘My evil plans, foiled again!’ - Tesla, who wrote lines like those?! Logan’s face still burned at the memory of the acting he’d allowed his partner to talk him into, and in front of his colleagues no less. The things he’d uttered, just to make the childish detective happy. He had clearly softened and he blamed his partner. There would be no dessert tonight! As he’d escaped the precinct, Roman had just prepared to orchestrate a grand sequel. Clearly, the time for a strategic retreat had come. Patton’s company ought to be the safer one.

Yet, despite having come to a mutual agreement to accept the young man’s situation and remain friends, Logan felt ill prepared to enter the Pat-isserie. They might have spoken and hugged at the hospital, however he still feared the influence of the baker’s relationship on their daily interactions. Would he even be able to ignore what he knew was going on in his private life, pretend everything was alright and engage in shallow conversation like he had before? His emotions felt too powerful to treat the situation casually. Despite his cool exterior, Logan was an intense man. He did not know how to love someone halfway. He liked to pretend Roman was the one who followed him around, the one who depended on him, but had his partner not resisted his demanding attempts at taking him in, he would have had Roman under his wing in his flat within the first few months of their tentative friendship. He still only grudgingly accepted the fact that the other returned to his own apartment occasionally. Additionally, the fact that he had - there was no other way to describe it – adopted the little troublemaker Virgil the moment the younger man had shown weakness and caved to his aggressive attempts at caring for him made the truth Logan had tried hard to hide painfully apparent. He needed people to care for. By some stroke of luck Roman and Virgil, even Patton, still believed he was the composed one looking after all of them, the one in control they needed to rely on, but in reality he needed them so badly he felt lost and empty without them. Not being allowed to channel all of that protective anger and loving feelings left Logan a precariously balanced mess, threatening to tip and spill all of those unused, unwanted feelings all over their fragile relationship, suffocating it. Patton didn’t want the things he had to give. If he couldn’t manage to hold himself together, keep his intense longing and protective feelings as well as his anger and helplessness at bay, he’d be turned away. He’d understand it, too. His nerves in his throat, the tall detective evaded a swarm of laughing children holding sticky cupcakes in both hands and stepped into the cafe.

Warmth seeped into Patton so suddenly, it left him feeling lightheaded. Or perhaps it was the fact that he hadn’t eaten all day. He really wanted to look his best from now on, Trevor was not fond of the weight he tended to gain around his hips, and had also been too nervous to get much past the dizzying mix of hope and insecurity in his stomach. So much had happened. Despite the changes he and Trevor had agreed upon following the shocking conclusions he’d come to, seeing Logan was as pleasant as it usually was. He’d slipped through the door and had held it open for a bunch of escaping little ones, allowing them to pass by under his arm, drawing attention to how tall he was. He looked as handsome as ever in his tailored, dark blue suit and silken tie, pale skin contrasting attractively with his raven hair. He’d even brought Nicodemus, which Patton always loved. There was a sort of pride and confidence about the detective whenever he was accompanied by his littlest friend, which Patton found too adorable. The realization of how much he wanted their friendship to work hit him hard. Logan had never been supposed to know. He hadn’t wanted him to be a threat, or for him to see Patton this way. He hadn’t wanted to seem weak.

With both men held back by their own insecurities, finding common ground was hard. Upon facing each other, neither appeared to know how to begin their conversation. Noticing the dark shadows under the detective’s eyes, Patton found he knew what he wanted, though. He and Trevor finally had a real chance at a happy ending after all those years of making each other miserable, why shouldn’t it be possible for him and Logan to find a way to make things work? He’d just need a place to start, and he knew exactly the right one. Feeling a keen sense of Déjà-vu, he silently stepped up to the taller man, being squeaked at by a cheerful, gray rat. Like the first time they’d met, Logan was hard to read at first, closed off and a little intimidating. Yet, like all those months ago, Patton could see beyond the facade. Offering a soft smile, he allowed the other a moment to prepare before raising on his tiptoes and carefully wrapping his arms around his friend. Their embrace was less sure than it had become in the course of their relationship, influenced by the insecurity of their opposing interests as a cop opposed to a victim unwilling to let him protect him. As a result, the detective’s body felt stiff under his hands at first, his jaw tense, his gaze closed off. Patton was patient though. He knew for once there was nothing to say. He curled close, bringing their bodies into close contact, leaning his cheek against his shoulder and letting his affection speak for itself. Wanting to help the other relax, he made himself soft and warm, melting against the long lines of his body like a cat. Like a strange reversal of their first proper hug, finally, Logan softened under him, his breath leaving him with his fear, his arms finally coming up to embrace him properly instead of awkwardly resting on his sides. He needed to be held more than he’d known. Patton’s own nerves quieted, leaving a soothing calmness behind. The rise and fall of the other man’s chest against his gave him something to focus on that made everything else cease existing. As always, the patissier and detective found common ground in each others arms.

Having greeted Virgil and left his beloved Nicodemus with a purring and rolling kitten upstairs to nap, the detective got comfortable on his usual spot, reviewing case notes in his notebook and surreptitiously watching his friends for any signs of distress. Considering the things he now knew, a lump up bitter fear rose in his throat whenever he had the chance to think about the things Patton had to face alone. He worried, all day, every day. Try as he might, the spiraling thoughts stuck with him from the moment he woke with a nauseous feeling in his stomach to the moment he fell asleep. It haunted his dreams and made him wake up in a pool of sweat. He could not help remembering the things he’d seen in his line of work, the reports and statements of women and men abused by their partners, scarred physically and emotionally. They overlapped with reality whenever he looked up to see Patton twirl around, smile at a child or coo at Virgil. He was so soft, so tender and beautiful and easy to hurt. He swallowed and returned his gaze to the paper, trying and always failing to forget.

A weight settled next to him, clad in lavender wool and trailing wisps of flour.

“Logan?” Patton asked softly, pulling at the sleeve of his soft sweater.  

“Yes, Patton?”

“I can hear you thinking all the way over there, would you like...”

Flushing hotly, the detective cast his gaze down, mortified at being so obvious. “I apologize.” He hastily cut in, making the other fall silent. “And also for interrupting you. I did not mean to be disrespectful.”

The smaller man smiled, the expression once again softening his face, making him very pretty indeed. “Oh, it’s okay. I just don’t want you to worry! I know your smart head is coming up with so many ideas, so it’s best we just talk about it, don’t you think?” He asked reasonably, settling down comfortably next to his fretting friend. The way he curled up made him small enough to easily fit against the other man’s side, had he wanted to.

“I just want you to know that I had a really great chat with Emile, he is such a delight and so clever and helpful! And I realized how much had been going wrong with the two of us – I guess you knew a lot about that, being a detective and really smart and all – so we talked, Trevor and I, and he agreed to go to couple’s therapy with me, anything I wanted, really, he is truly trying, Logan. It’s wonderful how far he’s come and how much better we understand our mutual fears and problems now. I feel like I know him so much better than I did before, we are much closer now. He wants this to work as much as I do and I really believe it will, so – please don’t look so concerned, I don’t want you to be afraid for me. It’ll be okay, I promise! This time, all will be well.” He implored, his hazel eyes wide and trustful, filled with hope. It made something sharp twist in Logan’s chest, deep down were he harbored so much warmth. He attempted a smile, wanting to preserve Patton’s hope. He couldn’t bear to see him hurt.

“I’m pleasantly surprised by your partner’s willingness to accommodate your wishes.” He uttered diplomatically. Patton, perceptive as he was, was onto him though.

“Then… why do you look so tense? Is everything okay?” He asked anxiously, fear making his stomach feel queasy. Swallowing down all the things he wished to say but had no right to felt like making a rock settle in his stomach.

“Yes, certainly.”

A moment ticked by where the baker observed his friend, his brow furrowed. He seemed to come to a decision. Taking Logan’s calloused hand in his and making the poor man blush dreadfully with nerves and longing, he took his time to find the right words. Knowing the shyness of the detective, he kept his eyes cast down so not to make him feel exposed.

“I know I had to push you away a few times to, um, to get to the point where I wouldn’t have to be afraid for… you respect my wishes, though. I believe that, and I need that from you, but that doesn’t  mean we shouldn’t be honest with each other. There has to be something good about everything being in the light now. I think we need to talk openly, so no fear and resentment is between us, and I trust you, Logan.” Finally looking up, he added quietly. “I want to hear what you think.”

The older man took a deep, fortifying breath, disarmed by the honest wish. Still, fear of overstepping and of hurting those hopeful feelings made him hesitant. He felt like a villain, uselessly destroying this belief that things could be better.

“I… don’t think it will work as you expect it to.”

Patton’s eyes widened, growing hurt and wet. As he almost unconsciously pulled his hand back into his lap, his posture changed immediately, making him seem smaller. Feeling his breath catch in his throat, Logan attempted to explain his position, to make it better somehow.

“Patton, I apologize for causing you distress. Since I am hardly an expert on relationships, you have no need to heed my authority. You must consider the things I have been confronted with in the course of my work. I may have grown cynical. I may be wrong.” It cut him to say those words he could not believe, but pushing his opinion on the other would only push him away. Steeling himself, he added his most vulnerable thought despite his fear of how much it might reveal about his feelings.

“And although I deeply admire your ability to trust in the best in any individual, I also do not believe somebody who hurt you deserves the privilege to be with you. You should be with someone who cherishes the right to be by your side. Someone who sees you as worthy of love and protection.”

Breathing out a sad sigh, Patton softened. “It’s hardly a privilege!” He chirped, trying hard to make light of the situation with humor. Logan didn’t take the bait though. His face remained serious and earnest.

“I believe it is.”

His seriousness made the patissier pause. He had no idea how to respond to the depth of emotion he felt behind the words. A twisting, aching sensation of longing came over him unbidden. This was not fair! They were doing better than they had in years, he could not ruin their chance with his stupid heart! He loved Trevor, he had no right to yearn to know what it might be like to be taken home and belong to a man who believed having him was a privilege. Why did it feel so possible right now when the chance was farther away than ever? For a wild moment, he imagined just reaching out and touching Logan’s face, touching him, and just giving himself over to what felt so real all of a sudden.

He was being ridiculous.

Logan was – he was unreachable, and not only because Patton had nothing to offer to him and was probably stupidly imagining impossible things. He’d made his choice long ago and had even recently renewed his promise. He’d be Trevor’s anchor, his protector and caregiver – his everything. The weigh was heavy, but he’d bear it.

Trying to take away his caring friend’s suffering, and to convey some of the hope he’d found, he promised, “This time it will work. Trust me.”

If only Logan could know how much progress he’d made in understanding their dynamic. How hard Trevor tried. So much had changed and for the first time in years, Patton dared to genuinely trust that things would be okay.

“I hope you are correct. I may not believe he deserves to be with you, but I could never want you to be hurt again.”

The detective never lowered his head or hunched his shoulders, but the tension and pain around his eyes and jaw was clear to see.

Logan’s selfless honesty almost broke Patton’s heart. He could see how much the man was torturing himself and he wanted nothing more than to ease his suffering. The detective clearly hated his relationship and hurt whenever Patton returned to Trevor. He’d seen it in the crushed looks, felt it in the worried and protective way he’d cradled him close. Yet he still let him go without a fuss, relinquishing his hold on him with obvious difficulty. He even wished him well. And Patton should be happy. He’d been so afraid of Logan, of his fury, his power, his ability to hurt and break and force Patton to comply with his wishes through the authority of his position. His terror had almost driven them apart for good. Now that the detective accepted his needs and supported his choices despite his pain and anger, he should feel nothing but relief. And yet, he was proving everything Trevor had said about him right. He was foolish and his heart was quick and stupid. Logan was giving him what he’d fought for. His freedom to make his own choices, the right to choose who to be with - and some part of Patton wished he hadn’t. Now that the older man had set him free, all unlikely chances, all unrealistic dreams of being with him had vanished. Before the patissier had made his choice clear to the detective, there had at least been some lingering hope that perhaps, Logan was pursuing him after all. His hugs had been an offer of safety. At times, his touches had felt like a slow seduction, caressing him with utter gentleness, holding him firmly enough to make him feel kept and protected. The way his deep voice had spoken his name had been filled with tenderness. He’d felt so valued.

His heart was heavy as he realized there was no going back. Logan was still here, still looking at him with this impossible softness, but he had stopped fighting him on his decision. A decision he could not back down from, Patton knew that. But at the same time, he deeply regretted the loss of the possible future Logan’s fierce demands and threats to Trevor had symbolized. While his wave of fury and his loss of control had terrified him, Patton knew they had been an offer of a way out, an offer at something new. Even a way to show his appreciation perhaps? Men fought for what they loved, didn’t they? Possibly, his aggression might have been a sign of a deeper interest? This sort of aggressiveness had always accompanied any relationship he’d known after all. Trevor was so unbalanced because he loved him so much and feared to lose him, wasn’t he? And Logan had been ready to tear down walls and break bones to grasp Patton and take him home, away from his boyfriend and the constant doubt and guilt.

And he knew, it would have broken them apart.

Patton could not live in another relationship where he feared control and violence, where his choices were taken from him and where people even got hurt for him. Trevor was different. He was his responsibility and he knew what to expect from him. He hadn’t been able to help it and he was making an effort now. Logan on the other hand was more than that. Had he refused Patton’s demands, he might have been able to tear him and Trevor apart and even take him with him – there would be no one else left to turn to after all, no place to go but where the older man led him, but their relationship would have been doomed from the start. He’d be restricted and intimidated and would live with the knowledge that his decisions would not be respected. Logan was better than that and Patton deeply, desperately needed him to stay that way. He knew, in his bones, that he needed Logan to remain as good and kind and strong as he was. Someone to trust and look up to. Someone who trusted Patton and respected him. His existence gave him strength. His heart broke at the realization finally truly sunk in. This meant he would never be with the man. He could not leave Trevor on his own volition – not now when they were fixing things – and Logan could not force him or tempt him away since Patton could never feel safe or respected with him if he did.

He swallowed hard, casting his gaze down. His eyes burned.

He was such a mess. Stupid, stupid Patton. He should be happy right now, not cry over impossible things. He’d gotten everything he’d wanted – Trevor, his friends, a hopeful future – and here he was, moping over something he was not going to get anyway. Logan was out of his reach and probably not interested in someone as untidy and disorganized and overly emotional as himself. He’d find a beautiful and successful doctor or lawyer and marry them and be free of all those issues. And Patton would be with Trevor and all would be well. Yes.

Nodding to convince himself, he bravely tried to bring his sunny smile back, brushing his curling hair back to give himself time to compose himself. He was ruining their perfectly wonderful afternoon with his moping!

“Thanks for worrying. I appreciate you being there.” As Patton whispered those words, his throat grew tight. He felt his affection so strongly all of a sudden, as if he’d never see the other man again. For a moment, he felt so terribly trapped and lonely, as if he was locking himself away from everything that mattered to him. There was a distance between them he became desperate to bridge lest he’d lose his chance. He just needed to be held, just for a moment. Unable to give fair warning this time, he threw himself into Logan’s arms, burrowing his face in his chest and simply holding on. The detective tensed in surprise, before bringing his arms up automatically. He was obviously confused and overwhelmed with the sudden intensity of the situation, judged by his stuttering breath, but he never disappointed Patton, pulling him close instead of speaking – perhaps because he was floundering about what to say – and pressing him against his chest just right. The slight patissier drew a shuddering breath, not understanding why he felt so desperately needy. He couldn’t be close enough. Appearing to feel his need on some level, Logan leaned back and allowed his friend to sprawl over his chest, half in his lap, until he couldn’t see anything but the darkness those arms enveloped him in, feel his warmth and breath and smell his cologne and soap. As he was held tightly and safely, slowly, the panicked feeling started so recede. The heavy weight of loss and sadness in his chest would not quite go away, but even so, Logan’s hold made it easier to gain strength, to remember the good things. He was not losing his friend, he was right here. How silly he was! And most importantly, he loved Trevor. He really, truly did. Held safely, it was not impossible to remember how his boyfriend looked when Patton had made him truly happy. The image of his smiling face, the eyes crinkling at the corners, the little laugh, it made his heart swell. His joy brought Patton so much pleasure, he wanted to see more of it. He wanted him to be happy and he wanted to be with him in good times again. He looked forward to it. With new strength, he pulled back, smiling unconsciously at the memory of Trevor’s face lit up with honest laughter.

“Thank you.” He mumbled, grateful to the befuddled detective for offering his care without asking questions about his strange moods. Spurred by his hopefully swelling heart, filled with so much love and expectations for a bright future, he leaned up and kissed his detective’s cheek sweetly.

Drawing back, a flash of reddish blond caught his gaze in the window.

///////////////////////

The image of the two of them burned him whenever he closed his eyes, he’d never felt pain like this before, like it cut into him like a physical thing, making him flinch and curl around his wounded chest. For some reason, his thoughts were stuck on a random detail, so small in comparison to the devastating picture that had hit him like a slap in the face - the height difference between them seemed to circle around in his brain, stuck like a splinter he kept picking at until the skin bled, tiny and insignificant, but impossible to ignore, setting his nerves on fire and infecting him with red hot agony. He was tall.

Taller than him.

He’d looked so tiny in his arms.

His hands looked so big on him.

Proprietary.

Patton slipped through the door into their apartment Trevor had fled into just as it was about to fall shut, out of breath, his face ashen with horror. He stumbled over the tidy row of shoes in his haste, tumbling against the wall clumsily. He’d followed Trevor home as fast as his legs would carry him, terror making his heart thunder and his breath come in short pants. Raising his hands in a placating gesture, he tried to speak – tried to lie.

Trevor wouldn’t hear it again. He cut him off, expecting to sound loud, angry – yet his own voice sounded nothing like he intended, it was a shock to him, small, shaking, begging.

“What was that?! Why did you tell me- I thought – you said you’d be with me – you promised you wouldn’t – and with him -” He gasped, quivering. He could see nothing but Patton in the tall man’s arms. He’d been as good looking as he’d feared, composed and elegant and so much – too much to hope to compete with – he’d always known Patton would find someone better, someone who didn’t lose control again and again and again no matter how hard he tried, and he’d tried, every time he’d hated himself. And the other - he was just like he’d imagined him, countless times, taking Patton away, his large hands on his boyfriend’s hips. A wave of despair overwhelmed him. How could he go on now? He couldn’t lose the only thing that mattered – the worst thing wasn’t the touch – the loss, though.

“Why did you make me think we could fix –“ He gasped, bis sight blurry. “You- you made me th-think I could be good enough, I t-tried so hard, I – I tried – I always try-” He screeched suddenly. He knew what he had been doing, he hadn’t wanted to hurt him, but his temper, his anger, he just felt so weak and overwhelmed, sometimes he just couldn’t- but Patton had made him believe, he’d been so ready to try everything – but even as he’d made him hope, Patton had already moved on. He hadn’t even let him show him. He’d chosen something better.

He’d been in his arms. He’d kissed him. He’d reassured Trevor, looked him in the eye and said he loved him and then he’d gone straight to him. Why had he made him hope? Why would he torture him like that – play him like that?! It was so cruel. Did he think – was this a joke to him?!

The thought hooked into his mind like a claw, piercing deep, drawing hot, gushing blood. The powerful, seething, crimson tide rose in Trevor’s chest, higher and mightier with every thought of his failure, his loss, the betrayal. Furious anger swallowed him up like a wave of boiling, lashing water. The detective, he’d been after his boyfriend from the start – Trevor had known it. He’d avoided the cafe unconsciously, had known it would take Patton from him, had known he’d meet someone, even though he’d promised – he was overwhelmed, helpless, furious, he’d made his promise to make everything well just the night before. He’d thought it meant the world. A renewal, a way to finally be healthy and happy. He was a weary, so brittle, he’d wanted to believe it so badly. Patton had looked so earnest. They’d kissed, touched – he’d believed things would be well, trusted him with his life, didn’t he know how much Trevor had given to him, how much he needed-

But Patton hadn’t cared.

The wave rose. He was untethered. He was pulled under.  

Carefully, Patton approached him and he lunged, backhanded the whore right across the face. A cry echoed across the vast, empty room. The crash of a body hitting the floor fueled something primal in him. The door slammed shut and he was onto his prey, his tormentor – the man who’d promised him everything and had ripped it all apart. The man he couldn’t live without. The man that had hurt him so much, so much. He was losing his hold, he felt hot humiliation burn in his veins, sizzling desperation. He’d been made a fool, Patton had never wanted to fix them, he’d laughed at him with the detective – he’d never been good enough. Everything was falling apart, the pieces were slipping from his fingers, he was so helpless, being bashed and pulled by his own conflicting emotions, he couldn’t survive without him, his everything, his Patton - who felt like he was better, who’d gone behind his back after giving him hope, he had betrayed him-

He grabbed Patton by the shoulder – so thin under his brutal hand, yanked him up - his whimper made blood and adrenalin flood his head, high pitched, grating. He couldn’t bear to hear it, so loud, too much, he hated – he needed to silence him.

Unseeing fury drove his fist into his victim’s stomach, making him cough and retch. Patton fell to the floor hard, his knees buckling uselessly under him. It wasn’t enough. His fist was driven down on him again, beating, ripping, destroying.

*

He couldn’t breathe, black spots appeared before his vision. A fist to the side of his head smashed him down hard, making blackness consume him for a shocking moment. Blood spilled from his split lip. The pain in his skull almost split him in half – he was disoriented – he needed to tell him – but his tongue wouldn’t work – everything was spinning, fear choking him with his thunderous heartbeats, he tried to bring his arms up to shield himself but he couldn’t see, everything was blurring, where was Trevor?

A crash, shattering glass – so loud in his ringing ears it seemed to shake the apartment made him flinch. Something cut his raised arm like a whip, spilling sticky liquid over his skin, his throat closed up around the explanation, the apologies – he needed to – his mouth filled with blood, his stomach turned sharply-

Another slap cut his lip, a sharp pain traveled up his ankle, he choked up blood from where he’d cut the inside of his cheek on his teeth, how could he have let it come to this?! Trevor’s face was twisted with nothing but agony, red and raw like a gruesome mask, so very easy to recognize for Patton, who was so familiar with the pain, the guilt, the fear clawing up his spine, consuming him in a primal flash of terror.

*

His fists were shaking, his breath coming in uneven gasps. For a sudden moment, he was able to see through the haze of rage.

Patton’s small form lay crumbled on the floor, holding quivering hands up uselessly to protect himself. Blood dripped down his arm, his lip.

His voice shook. It was barely above a whisper. Pleading.

“Please, you promised.”

His narrow, bruised chest was heaving with the effort to breathe, his hazel eyes wide and terrified, bitter tears mixing with the blood running from his split lip. He sounded broken.

Worse. He did not sound surprised.

It was a punch in the gut. He had never believed Trevor could do it- his failure had always been expected. He was everything that gave Trevor strength, everything he had to hold onto, and he’d never trusted him in the first place. All he’d done was make him think there was a chance, make him hope, and then crush him with the knowledge of his pathetic deficiency.

The blood on Patton’s face made his heart thunder, making him pulse with anger hate failure, bright crimson, accusing him, he’d failed again, it made guilt and humiliation twist and intertwine with the rage, the feeling of defeat, of falling into a hole after waking up from his madness, seeing the effect of his loss of control, his babe, broken and ugly, smeared with blood, dragging himself up, looking at him with fear, forgiving him again, he always had to forgive him he couldn’t do it right, the water in the bathroom turning red as he washed the traces of Trevor’s failure off his body with shaking, cut hands. Trevor hated the detective for being so good, so smart and successful and unreachable, for being superior, too much to hope to compete with, he felt small and useless, insignificant and helpless and angry at him for making Patton turn from him, making him feel this way, for making him do this again – for failing again – he’d thought he’d controlled it now, he’d been strong, he’d protected his babe from himself and now he’d made him lose his hold, it was all in vane, he was nothing, and Patton had drawn this onto himself, why had he made him fail, why hadn’t he seen how hard he’d tried, he’d turned it around, he’d done better, HE’D FIXED IT and he still went back to this other who was better the whore he didn’t want him he hated Patton he hated HIMSELF.

He’d deserved this.

Half crazed, Trevor grabbed a brutal fist full of the patissier’s hair, yanking him up on his knees before him. He needed to regain control, assert his strength somehow, his anger drove him to grow hotter, wilder-

He’d asked for this.

+++++++

His trembling fingers fumbled with his belt, his fly, the smaller man cried out, his heart racing, frantically trying to pull away, ripping out bloody strands of hair.

No, please not again! Patton vividly remembered the only time Trevor had lost control to his anger so badly, still tasted bitterness on his tongue whenever he recalled the terrible night. It had been their worst one yet, he’d been so mad, forcing Patton onto his knees, spitting insults and self-loathing, prying his jaw open with ruthless hands. Patton had been paralyzed by horror, disbelieving of what was to come. He’d never thought Trevor would do something so terrible to him, he’d never – but he’d forced his cock into his mouth with one thrust, shoving Patton forward by the hand in his hair, making him take him all the way, way too far. Shock had frozen him for long, agonizing seconds, before his body had rebelled with revulsion and terror. He had scrambled against the unforgiving hold, unable to breathe, panic flooding him. Trevor had been mad with rage, brutally thrusting into him, calling him a slut, a whore, a monster, forcing his way into the smaller man’s throat, making his choke, making him retch. Bile had filled his mouth, lack of air making him thrash and cough, fighting to breathe, fighting for his very life. Trevor had only pulled back long enough to make him cough, gasp, before he’d yanked him back, twisting his hands in the weaker man’s hair, making him take it till he was finished. Once he’d come down his throat, he’d dropped Patton as if he were something rotten, disgusting and vile. As if Patton were dirty. He’d never forgotten the look. It still haunted him at odd moments, made him flush with shame and humiliation. He’d never stopped feeling it. As he’d lain on the cold tiles, bitter vomit and semen running down his chin and mixing with the blood in his mouth, right before he passed out in the dirt smeared over his face and chest, he’d felt like he deserved to be looked at this way.

Terrified, hot tears ran down his cheeks as Trevor yanked his face up by the fist twisted in his locks. He tried to plead, to beg. He couldn’t survive this again, he couldn’t.

“No, please, please I can’t, you promised, you said you’d never make me-”

“SHUT YOUR FUCKING MOUTH YOU LYING WHORE!”

Trevor screamed, shaking Patton so hard by the hair it made his teeth clash together painfully. The taller man heaved, tears falling onto the bloody face beneath him. His own was twisted into a reddened, horrid mask of fury and anguish. His mouth had turned into an ugly grimace, caught between a snarl and a sob. He managed to undo his fly, fumbled with his underwear-

++++++++

A crash echoed through the apartment like a gunshot, shockingly loud. It left both men deafened for a long, horrifying moment.

Blearily, Trevor looked up from the body at his feet. The realization came a few heartbeats too late. A fist crashed into his face with the force of a freight train, making him drop like a leaden weight.

It had been a gunshot.

The projectile had shattered the lock of their front-door, making it afford no protection against the kick that almost ripped it off its hinges. Only his extensive training had made the detective punch the attacker instead of shooting him on sight. Had he had time to process the picture he’d seen, he might have murdered the man in cold blood, leaving nothing but a shredded corpse. The moment he found Patton crumbling to the floor however, nothing else mattered to the detective. Flooded with a cold horror he had never experienced before, he sunk to the ground in front of him.

/////////////////

Patton.

Oh Patton.

His hands shook at the sight before him, his breath coming in a sob. Oh no.

He reached out, impossibly horrified-

Patton flinched, crying out and shielding himself. His ears were ringing, the shot had been so loud. It did not matter that no one was touching him, he was trapped, his heart raced so hard, it felt like it would give out, he choked on phantom touches, lightheaded and frozen. Knowing he could not fight, he could not get away, he curled up, hiding his face in his bleeding arms, waiting for whatever he’d be put through in blind terror.

He was so cold.

He did not know how long he lay there, quivering and crying, waiting for the violence he’d been so sure he’d never have to endure again, until finally, a sound cut through the blood rushing in his ears. A sob. Someone else was crying.

Looking up went against all of his hard learned instincts of making himself small and invisible.

He needed seconds to understand what he was seeing.

Logan was kneeling before him, tears streaming down his face. His clean, lovely hands were twisted tightly around each other, shaking as badly as Patton was. His eyes… there were no words to describe how shattered he looked. The patissier whimpered, strenuously drawing himself up.

“L-Logan?”

The detective tried to speak, his voice breaking. He had to start again, visibly fighting the urge to touch Patton, to envelop him in his arms and pick him up from the hard, white tiles smeared with blood.  

Logan felt utterly helpless. Patton’s eyes were so wide, so hurt. Another sob threatened to break free from the confines of the detective’s chest. He felt half numb, half tortured. For a long moment, he could barely make sense of how terribly Patton had been treated. The sheer cruelty felt impossible.

He realized he did not know what to say.

Patton appeared disoriented, shock settling in and making his thin limbs quiver like leaves in the wind. He was so tense and tiny, his breaths coming in uneven gasps – but quiet, like he was trying hard not to be noticed. His strength seemed to leave him suddenly, threatening to make his arms give out and make him fall. Logan reached out on instinct to steady him. A frightened gasp and flinch made him freeze. He was too large, too close. The detective fumbled to find words he knew would fall short.

“Patton, I-I would never harm you. You are safe now.” The detective’s deep, unsteady voice pleaded with him to trust him. His hands were raised in a placating gesture, open and non-threatening, tears dripping down his chin. Patton could not look away for a long, fearful moment. Trevor’s hands had been balled into fists, veins and tendons staining against the bones, the skin broken at the knuckles. Terror flooded him once again, gripping him like a mouse pierced by an eagle’s claws. The patissier scooted back, his breath hitching. His right hand braced itself on broken glass, driving the shards into his palm. Logan’s eyes burned, horror and anguish flooding his voice.

“Wait, please – you don’t need to fear me! I am so sorry, I did not meant to frighten you, I only – I only want to help you.” He almost whimpered, feeling utterly helpless. “I would never touch you without your consent, I- I will stay right here, alright?”

Patton nodded, unconsciously drawing his wounded hand into his lap. It was full of glass shards cutting his soft skin. It hurt Logan to see it like nothing he’d ever felt before. Think, you useless fool, he berated himself. He wished Virgil and Roman were here.

“You are cold, may I get you a blanket?” He asked carefully, fearful of doing anything Patton couldn’t place. The detective did not like how long it took the baker to answer with another nod. He wondered if he even heard him. The urge to hold him became almost unbearable. Thankfully, he found a blanket draped over the back of the leather couch, stiff with how little it had been moved. He sank back on his knees before the injured creature.

“Patton, may I put this around your shoulders? Please?” Upon receiving another nod, he approached the other slowly, uselessly wishing he were less frightening, he were better at this, that he could just  fix everything. Patton clenched his teeth as Logan leaned close to wrap the blanket around him like it was something he was forced to endure, as if a wild animal were about to tear into him if he moved too much. He was trapped by a man’s closeness and his memories.

“There you go, Patton. It will be alright. May I help warm you? I swear I will leave the moment you tell me to.” Logan attempted to assure him, having no idea whether his physical reassurance would help or make things worse. At this point, Patton’s nod felt less like agreement than learned behavior in traumatic situations. Logan didn’t know if he could trust it, didn’t know what to do, so he carefully, as slowly and gently as he was able, pulled the patissier against his side, hugging him loosely.

“I am so sorry.” He cried, his tears falling on bloody curls.

“It’s fine.” Patton mumbled hoarsely, breaking Logan’s heart. Yet the warmth and familiar hold seemed to thaw something in the younger victim. He started breathing more deeply, slowly leaning against the detective. He was coming back to him. And with it, the realization that this was all his fault. All of his blood, his cut skin and bruised body, Trevor had inflicted the pain he’d himself felt, because Patton had made him hope where there was none. Instead of cutting his losses, he had tried to make everything right that was broken so far past repair. He’d believed all of the promises as if he didn’t know better. He was so foolish, so stupid. Too stupid to fix them. Somehow, the worst thing was that just minutes ago, he’d told Logan to trust him. That things would be alright. He’d believed it. He was so ashamed.

Feeling tiny and ugly and so stupid, he sobbed, burying his face in Logan’s arms. He was here. He held on to him, rocking him gently and shielding him from the world. Patton found himself in his lap as he realized the cold had stopped seeping into him from the tiled floor. His hand was cradling his neck, his arm supporting his back, holding him entirely. Patton’s strength left him.

At least, as he sunk into the hold unresistingly, his frazzled nerves tortuously slowly realizing he was safe, the truth about Trevor started to sink in. He would never change.

It was over.

The thought triggered a pressing memory in his sluggish mind. Trevor? Icy fear came with it. He’d come to feel so safe in Logan’s arms, like his protection and Trevor’s threats could not exist in the same world, but they did. They were in the same room. He flinched, whimpering silently. Where-

Through tears and blood clouding his vision, he spotted a prone form crumbled on the ground behind the man holding him. He shrank back, shocked.

“Oh n-no Trevor- d-did you – is he...”

“No! Of course not, he will recover, I merely incapacitated him. I promise.” Logan assured him hastily, seeing terror of the effect of his violent intervention seep into the broken young man before him. “I am so sorry you had to see this, Patton.”

It seemed to be the last straw for the patissier. He was simply overwhelmed.

“Logan.” His voice broke on an unworded plea. Yet, the detective understood without having to be told.

“Please, let me take you home.” He whispered.

After a long moment, Patton nodded. As carefully as if he were cradling a newborn kitten, Logan bundled the injured young man into the blanket and lifted him into his arms. Glass crunched under his shoes as he carried him outside, hiding his tear stained face from the shocked neighbors finally daring to enter the hallway. Patton heard none of it. He pressed his face to Logan’s chest and closed his eyes.

ART:

@dweeborg created this gorgeous combination of Roman with stunning makeup and Virgil with his lovely hair, as well as a (shirtless, yum) picture of Virgil feeling good after his spa day.

How cute is Logan with Nicodemus on his shoulder?! Painted by @lienlovesshadowhunters

@doctorwhooian drew Roman being absolutely STUNNING in a crop-top and knee-high boots.

A personal favorite: @typical-torii gifted us with a drawing of RoRo having his locks combed to the side, looking bad-ass after a fight. He’s so fricking pretty like that!

A picture I absolutely LOVE – Roman glittering and lovely with a super cute man-bun giving Virgil inappropriate feelings, their expressions are just so utterly adorable and the raccoon in judging. Thanks a thousand times to @anxiously-chill

Next Chapter

[enixamyram]

I have this headcanon that years in the future Rae and Blessing find an old home video. The footage is of their mothers’ wedding reception. But the audio is just Grandad Killian and Grandpa Rumple arguing somewhere off camera over who should get to dance with Alice first.

Yeah this turned out so much longer than I meant it to! haha! But I really enjoyed writing it too! So thanks for the short idea, Anon!

   “AH!”

   Blessing rolled her eyes, turning to find Rae cringing away from something on the floor. “What?” She asked.

   “A rat! I think I saw a rat!” Rae yelped, ducking a low hanging beam and hurrying away from the corner quickly, her long brown hair bounding behind her as she did.

   “You know, if it’s too much, we could always head back down and just tell mum we couldn’t find it...” Blessing said in an innocent sing-song like voice.

   Immediately Rae’s fear vanished and she turned unamused eyes to her little sister. “Uh, lemme think. No!”

   “Oh come on!” Blessing snapped. “This attic is full of crap! How are we supposed to find anything up here? We might as well just buy new damn decorations and be done with it.”

   They were, of course, talking about the decorations that had been used for their Christening parties. Lucy had come by, looking pretty good for a first time mum, asking if Alice and Robin still had their daughters white dress they had worn that day. It had been enchanted by great aunt Regina to not only stay perfectly presentable and clean, but also to keep the baby wearing it calm during the ceremony. And because they happened to be hanging around, Rae and Blessing had been the ones charged with going into their attic to find the box it was hidden in.

   The only problem was that the attic was a complete mess. They used it more like a large rubbish area than a storage space. Half the things had been thrown inside and so much of it lay broken, while others were just random and neither girl knew why they still had it. Like Blessing’s old doll house. The one she played with for a few months before growing bored, resulting in her painting it a mixture of sickly green and brown colours so it could be an army base instead. What was once a pretty house turned into something unrecognisable.

   “Mum flipped when she saw what I had done,” Blessing smiled, pulling the doll house out from the side and running her hand over the long since dried paint, uneven and lumpy with only some of the actual house peeking out from underneath.

   “I remember,” Rae grinned, kneeling beside her. “And mama just laughed it off and said you were being creative. She spend weeks convincing mum you were going to be an artist and one day the doll house would be worth millions!”

   Blessing snorted, pushing her short blonde hair out of her face. “Yeah, she was way off on that one.”

   “Anyway!” Rae said, before they could get too comfortable. “We’re not here to reminisce!” She slapped her knees and jumped back to her feet. “Come on! Pull all that crap out of the corner. I think I see some untitled boxes hidden in the back.”

   “Pull all that crap out of the corner.” Blessing mimicked quietly, sticking her tongue out and pulling a face. “Do this, Blessing. Do that, Blessing.”

   “You say. And yet you’re still not doing it.” Rae said, crossing her arms and scowling down at her.

   Blessing paused. “I meant for you to hear that.” She said suddenly.

   “Sure you did.” Rae turned and walked over to the room - away from where she was sure she saw the rat - and began digging through some of the piles that had been thrown on top of one another.

   For a moment they fell quiet as they began to search through the many objects in their way. They scrambled through a series of things that seemed to have no rhyme or reason as to why they were stored together - like an old copy of Alice In Wonderland, an faded black top hat, a multicoloured bracelet, a pocket watch that was ticking backwards - and other objects that had clearly been tossed up blindly if even that - like an old glasses case, a jar which seemed to contain actual dirt, an old detective badge that had their grandpa’s name on it from during one of the many curses their family had lived through.

   “This is taking forever,” Blessing moaned, standing up. “Move back.”

   “Blessing! No! Mum said-”

   “Auntie ‘Gina told me to practice.” Blessing shrugged, like that gave her immediate permission.

   “Not in closed spaces!” Rae snapped, jumping up to grab her arm.

   However, before she could, Blessing swept her arms to the side and suddenly everything lifted off the floor. In seconds all the objects they had been digging through began to spin in a cyclone around them, so fast they almost felt like they would be picked up with them. Rae shrieked in surprise and Blessing struggled to control it. In the end, it only lasted a few seconds before something shot out at random and hit Rae on the shoulder, sending her tumbling into Blessing and causing everything to crash loudly to the floor with them.

   A second later... “WHAT THE HELL IS GOING ON UP THERE?!”

   “Nothing mum!” Blessing said quickly, pushing Rae off her and crawling towards the trap door, looking down innocently. “Just tripped over something!”

   Robin scowled up at her. “Rae?” She called.

   Rae glared at Blessing as she crawled to her side. But just before looking down at her mother, she forced herself to smile. “Yeah, she tripped over me of all things. Sorry, mum. We’ll keep the noise down.”

   Robin continuing frowning up at them before shaking her head with as sigh, knowing they wouldn’t give each other up like they would have once when they were more naive. “Just... Find the damn box with the dress.”

   After their mother had left, the girls turned away from the trap door and breathed a sigh of relief. Blessing glanced at Rae and smiled shyly. “Thanks.”

   “Thanks nothing.” Rae groaned, standing and rubbing her soon to be bruised shoulder. “You owe me.”

   “Deal.” Blessing nodded, sitting back on her heels. Even if she was bossy, she knew she could count of Rae when she needed her.

   It was then she caught sight of something that had skid across the floor when everything fell back down. It was an old red DVD case, but it had no title or picture on the front and neither did the DVD sitting safely inside.

   “What’s this?” Blessing blinked.

   “A DVD?” Rae frowned.

   Out of all the jumble of objects sitting in the attic, this was probably the thing that stood out most. Why would they throw a DVD up here? They had a bookshelf full of them downstairs, and any they no longer wanted, they just gave away to friends and family who did.

   “Let’s watch it!” Blessing said immediately, her curiosity piqued.

   “Blessing, we have to find the dress before we can go downstairs,” Rae said strictly.

   “Who said we have to go downstairs?” Blessing grinned cheekily.

   “Are you kidding?!” Rae hissed. “After that?!”

   “Oh come on! This is just a small one and it’s easy. I’ve done it a dozen times before.” Blessing said, laying the DVD on the floor, opening the case and sitting cross legged in front of it.

   “Oh my God, Blessing! You are unbelievable!” Rae snapped.

   Ignoring her, Blessing waved her hand at the DVD. A golden yellow light lifted from the reflective material, reaching up in a single thick line before opening into a wide circle, almost like a flat flower. The circle was as big as Blessing’s head and shone brightly for a few seconds before the imagine inside cleared and the DVD began to play.

   Instantly it was clear it wasn’t a normal movie. It was a home video. One of a large crowd that had gathered, all wearing expensive and fancy looking clothing - beautiful dresses for the woman and handsome suits for the men - and there were decorations stretching all over the trees and across the ground. As the camera moved, it showed a shot of a long white table, stuffed with dishes of food and half eaten plates and a tall layered cake that had already been cut into to show a thick layer of chocolate sponge hiding beneath the white icing. And finally, the camera moved again and Blessing caught sight of a pair of familiar faces standing in the middle of it all.

   “Its mama and mum!” She gasped.

   “What?” Rae frowned, finally looking over her shoulder at her.

   “It’s their wedding video!”

   Without hesitating, Rae scrambled over towards her, sitting down by her side and looking at the glowing image. Sure enough, Alice and Robin were stood in a pair of beautiful white dresses, smiling at one another and looking just as in love as they did to this day. They were much younger, probably in their mid to late twenties, and yet somehow they had barely changed at all, except maybe that Robin’s hair was longer than it was now.

   “Oh wow. So this is where this was...” Rae mumbled. Blessing shot her a puzzled expression and she shrugged. “I heard mama asking about it a few weeks back. They must have tossed it up here accidentally.”

   “Make you wonder what else is here by accident.” Blessing mused. There were some things she noticed that genuinely seemed like they were special, yet they were thrown up here to be lost.

   They momentarily forgot their mission and sat back, watching the video in an almost silence. There was a sight buzz of conversation from the DVD but nothing clear as whoever controlled the camera walked slowly through the many people in his way. They got a shot of almost everyone. Great aunt Regina looking beautiful in a purple dress, grandma Zee in an emerald silk, Lucy in a pink frock, Henry in a navy suit with his wife dressed in blue...

   “... Don’t see how this is even up for debate!” Came a sudden sharp voice, not long after the camera man - who turned out to be Naveen - set the camera down on the table and seemingly forgot to stop the recording.

   “Is that...?” Blessing frowned.

   “Grandpa.” Rae nodded. She’d recognise his voice anywhere.

   “Because, whether you like it or not, I’m a part of her life as well.” Came a second familiar voice.

   “Gramps?” Blessing giggled, still frowning.

   “I never said you weren’t. Believe it or not, but I am happy with that. I know how much you looked after her while I couldn’t... But that doesn’t change anything!” Rogers snapped, his voice very clear now, like they were standing directly behind the camera but still out of view.

   “I think it does.” Rumple’s voice said stiffly.

   “Of course you do.”

   “What are they arguing about?” Blessing frowned.

   “No idea...” Rae mumbled. As far as she was aware, Rogers and Rumple were close friends. They always got on when everyone got together and retold stories all the time of their past adventures after they had set aside their differences from a feud neither of them really liked going into.

   “I was there for her, I think that should have some say in things.”

   “You were there because I couldn’t be! Which, I’m grateful for, but still doesn’t change anything!”

   “Well why don’t we ask Alice?”

   “No. And not because I’m worried she wouldn’t pick me but because I’m not leaving this up for debate.”

   “What are they arguing about? Come on! Give us some exposition already!” Rae demanded, leaning towards the glowing image.

   “If this were a movie they would have explained by now,” Blessing grumbled, resting her chin on her fist.

   “Fast forward it.” Rae commanded. “See how long they go at it for.”

   Waving her hand in front of the image, Blessing sped up the story for a few seconds before letting it play.

   “What are you two spitting about over here?” Came Tiana’s voice.

   “It’s nothing.” Rogers said with a heavy sigh.

   “Clearly not. So talk, what’s gotten your bowties in a twist?” Tiana asked.

   “Finally!” Rae said, rolling her eyes and sitting back.

   “Yes! Tell!” Blessing said eagerly, drumming her hands on the wooden floorboard in front of her.

   But before they could heard the answer, the camera jerked and was picked up off the table. “Oh, here it is.” Naveen’s grinning face appeared, smiling down at the lens a she began to walk away. “Woops, left it on... Better save some battery for the dances later.”

   “NO!” Rae and Blessing cried as the cheerful man switched the camera off just before they could hear Rogers fading reply.

   For a moment the girls stared at the blank screen in frustrated silence, waiting as it turned on and they were suddenly greeted with family and friends wishing the brides luck on their future. It was sweet and all, but not what either of the girls wanted to see. Blessing growled and waved her hand, causing the image and the light to disappear back into the DVD, sitting back and sulking.

   “Now we’ll never know what they were arguing about.” Rae grumbled angrily.

   “You know, you could just ask one of us.” Came a raspy voice behind them.

   The girls jumped and spun to see Rumplestiltskin pulling himself up onto the edge and sitting with his legs hanging down on top of the ladder. There was thick a sheen of sweat on his forehead and one of his hands were shaking badly as he rest it beside him, wheezing slightly as he sat back.

   “Gramps!” Blessing gasped, jumping up and running to kneel beside him. “Mama said you shouldn’t be exerting yourself.”

   “You mothers say a lot,” Rumple smirked. “I’m old. Not invalid.” He suddenly coughed hard into his shaking hand, wheezing even worse than before by the time he was done.

   “Look pretty close to invalid to me.” Rae said, shrugging.

   “Desirae!” Blessing snapped.

   “Cheeky brat,” Rumple grinned, causing Rae to giggle before she moved to sit opposite him, letting her own legs swing down the open trap door as well.

   “So what were you and Grandpa arguing about then?” Rae asked.

   Rumple chuckled again. “We were fighting over who got to dance with your mother first. I argued he got to dance with her first during the engagement party so it was my turn. Which I still think was a very valid argument.” He coughed again, groaning at the ache along his back.

   “Guessing you lost the argument?” Rae said.

   “Not quite.” Rumple said, nodding towards the DVD. Blessing took the hint and quickly waved her hand at it. The DVD light appeared, carrying over to shine in front of them and playing where it had left off. After a few directions they fast forward to the first dances and the light showed Alice, holding Rogers’ in one hand and Rumple’s in the other, pulling them both onto the dance floor. “If you had told me three centuries ago I’d be dance with the pirate at a gay wedding... Probably would have turned you into a toad and squished ya.”

   “Oh wow, that is the most awkward dance I have ever seen!” Rae laughed, watching as the two men took turns spinning Alice around and moving together on the dance floor. However Alice was the only one who didn’t look awkward. She just looked happy. Beaming up at the two men and swinging back and forth between them, laughing loudly over the music the whole time.

   “It was a good day.” Rumple said, voice wheezing slightly again before he coughed hard. Blessing put a hand on his shoulder worriedly and even Rae’s smile dimmed slightly.

   “You okay, Gramps?” Blessing asked.

   “I’m fine, girl. Don’t start acting like your mother. Bad enough I can’t even go for a walk now without her clinging to my arm the whole time like I’m gonna fall over.” Rumple said, rolling his eyes.

   “She worries.” Rae mumbled. “We do too. You shouldn’t have climbed up here on your own.”

   “Oh pack it in, the lot of you. I’m not going to be an old man who sits in a chair and whines about life as he slowly decays.” Rumple said, waving her off. “Now, where this dress your mothers sent you for?”

   “No idea.” Rae said, glancing back around them. “This whole place is a mess. There’s so much junk up here!”

   Rumple smiled at her, raising an eyebrow. “Nothing here is junk. It’s all precious to your mothers. Things Alice collected over the years during her travels or gave Robin or Robin gave her.” He coughed hard. “Why do you think they’ve stored so much? You know your ma’s sentimental.” He looked at Blessing. “Anyway, why haven’t you just poofed the damn dress into your hand already?”

   “You didn’t hear the banging from before?” Rae yelped.

   “The whole street heard that bang, dearie.” Rumple chuckled. “This is why you need a proper teacher.” He faced Blessing. “Shut your eyes. Picture the dress. Imagine it as clearly as you can... Now imagine you’re holding it...”

   Blessing jumped when a light material fluttered into her hands. She opened her eyes and looked down to find the dress sitting in her palms. “I did it!” She squealed.

   “You did.” Rumple nodded proudly. “Now, let’s get out of here. The dust is choking me.” He coughed hard enough to shake his body before he moved slowly, lowering himself down the ladder with Rae and Blessing hovering close by in case he fell.

   After he was safely back on the ground, picking up where he had leaned his cane against the wall, Rae hurried down after, copying her mother and standing close by his side, prepared for if he should stumble. He had yet to have a proper fall, but he did often shake in a way that made everyone nervous. Of course, no one had dared yet suggest a wheelchair but Rae had a feeling ma was getting close.

   “Come on, Blessing! Let’s go!” Rae said impatiently, not bothering to look back.

   “Come on, Blessing let’s go. Do as I say, Blessing, blah, blah, blah.” Blessing mimicked, folding the dress neatly in her hand before pausing and waving at the DVD. It disappeared and reappeared in her hand in a cloud of yellow smoke. Smiling she carried that and the dress back down before folding the ladder back up, pushing it into place with the help and watching the trap door automatically shutting after it.

   “Ma! Mum!” Blessing shouted, running passed her sister and Gramps. “Guess what we found!”

[mal-likes-biscuits]

Reflections: Malthael’s (Mortal) Character Thus Far

It’s interesting to go back and re-read older chapters in my fic series, and see just how far the characters have come -- Malthael in particular. The following is a spoiler-filled tracking of his development up until the most recent “Tristram” chapter.

Long-post alert! Read the rest after the break.

Being Social

“Tristram” Chapter 1 ends with Malthael watching the others in the tavern, wondering if that’ll be him in there some day.

In the distance, he hears mortal laughter. Comradery. The tavern is full, tonight. What they celebrate, Malthael does not know. Perhaps some day, he will be privy to such things. Perhaps some day, he will reach out, unhesitant, and someone will reach back without a dagger in their fist.

And then, in Chapter 3:

"Lyndon," Bron said. "No."

"Your establishment seems rather empty. I am sure we won't inconvenience anyone."

"I won't have a fight in here over him."

"With who, the rats? If anyone cares, we will leave. Until then, bring me a drink. I think I'll need it."

Malthael does indeed find someone who reaches back without stabbing him. (Though in Lyndon’s defense, he comes close, with absolute warrant.) And he eventually does gain entry into the tavern.

Which takes us to the most recent Chapter 10:

[...] Chith and his former mentor Osseus, tall pints of water in hand, bludgeoning the poor sap sitting between them at the bar with questions. And by poor sap, [Lyndon] meant Malthael.

Though he may regret his decision to go that night, I don’t think Malthael is entirely aware just how much he has changed since he first became mortal. These chapters track a time span of nearly 7 years. Growth doesn’t happen overnight. But it does happen. He has friends, now. He engages in social events (sometimes, when he feels like it). 

More importantly, he is invited to come along with them. His presence is wanted by others.

Relationships & Love

Malthael’s first thoughts on relationships (of all kinds) can be found in Chapter 1 of “In All Things Light & Dark”.

The work was grueling, but the day passed quickly. Talm was talkative, and Malthael was content to work while the younger man chatted. He spoke of his parents and his love for them; of the sunsets over the lake, which were no longer safe to watch due to the growing presence of strange creatures; of a woman from the farm over with raven hair, who he fancied and hoped would one day come watch the sunsets with him. 

 These were things Malthael quickly realized he should have also experienced, or at least variations thereof. But aside from the lingering memories he had of a family somewhere, nothing was familiar.

[...W]hat man had never watched the sun rise? Or spoken dearly of a lover?

These were mere concepts for him. Ideas embedded in his flesh that he understood at a fundamental level, but drew no recognition.

Some of these remain “mere concepts” to him, at least in that some of his needs are less pronounced/existent than others. Others, however, are gradually developing (from “Arcane and Apples” Chapter 3):

"Have I…upset you?"

[Farah’s] face grew warmer. "I am simply happy to finally meet you!"

He fell silent again for a long moment. "Aya. Perhaps I misunderstand mortal courtship after all. Would you advise?"

The wizard rubbed her nose with a thumb. "No! By Anu's arsehole, I will let you two sort this out later[...]."

At this point, Malthael still associates “courting” with the sorts of things he sees Tyrael or Lyndon doing, and doesn’t realize relationships can encompass a great many things, including some he has actually been doing for months. It probably complicates things that his “love-language” is strongly tipped toward “gift giving,” which is conflated heavily with him just showing Farah appreciation for the work she is doing in the library.

Then, in “Tristram” Chapter 5:

Be damned if he wasn't trying to smile. In place of those other, terrible thoughts, he instead remembered reaching for a rolled parchment, curiosity running through him. He closed his eyes and allowed himself to fall into the memory of unraveling it and the mystery it contained.

My name is Farah, it had said. I am Tristram's librarian. You are the wisdom-seeker, I presume? Pleased to make your acquaintance.

That little spark of warmth starts to flicker. Which leads, in “Tristram” Chapter 7, to:

[Malthael and Farah] fell into comfortable silence, marked only by the return of the breeze and the crackle of flames. He had not thought about anything distressing during their conversation. And the fire had done its job and had warmed his flesh. Between that and the distraction, he felt almost…safe. Even so, he expected her to eventually ask why he was there. Or if Tyrael had told her, he expected a comment on his absence from the festivities.

Farah never mentioned either. Instead, amidst more overt glimmers of amusement, she watched him carefully when she thought he wasn't looking. He caught her gaze on him several times, her dark eyes growing contemplative, as though she were trying to puzzle him out. It was an expression he likely made, himself. She was less practiced at hiding it, or she did not care to. But within her friendly exterior lay a sharp intelligence. One he had seen in letters and in the meticulous care she brought to the library.

One, he realized, he considered his equal.

Because he doesn’t experience sexual attraction, Malthael’s growing infatuation with Farah manifests differently (per Chapter 7 again, below). He does experience attraction to her, as we see later (and will see more throughout the series), but it is towards her facial expressions, or her behaviour, or (as we saw above), her mind and curiosity.

[...] Why the world had granted him this small mercy, Malthael did not know. But for the first time in his mortal life, he watched the stars and felt faint glimmers of feelings he had once had. Of gazing into the depths of eternity and seeing the threads weave and connect, and of knowing how truly insignificant he was within all of it. It was a comforting thought rather than a dark one. That the world was bigger and far more intricate than anyone else imagined.

More complex, surely, than he could ever comprehend again with a mortal mind. Yet, he tried. As did Farah. Together, wordlessly.

And even as the last embers of the fire grew cold, Malthael felt growing inside him a lingering, perceptible warmth.

His reasoning for bringing her gifts also shifts, as he explains later in the chapter:

"What would you have?" [Malthael asked.]

"Excuse me?"

"From Kingsport. What would you have me bring you?"

[...]

"I do like tea," she chuckled, relieved. "I have gone through more of it, recently."

"And?"

"Two requests? I did not think my work was that exceptional."

"Not your work. You."

Farah nearly dropped her drink.

"Your friendship," he clarified quickly, looking away. "I have been a long time without."

This carries on for approximately half a year, until we get to “A Light in the Darkness” Chapter 1, and see all of his emotions colliding and falling out into the open:

"You care about her. Don't you. More than as an acquaintance?"

[Malthael’s] silhouette shifted as if he were uncomfortable.

Which eventually culminates into him consciously admitting it in Chapter 3:

And he realized, abruptly, that he missed her. The thought startled but did not disturb him. He could have assumed as much, had he considered his feelings more closely. But the emotions she cultivated in him had always been tied to actions or events they experienced together. He had never felt them from being away from her on the road.

Now, in the deepest hours of the night, he simply wanted her to be there. Not for conversation or assistance. But for pure companionship. The thought of her at his side lit within him the spark of anticipation he usually only felt when he was at the cusp of a great discovery. It enthralled and terrified him that his emotional control had been so thoroughly breached by someone else. For millennia he had been alone, and never once had he felt the need to rely on another.

He frowned. Rely was not the correct word. His survival was not dependent on her. Nor was his sanity. Instead, something about her refined him. She carved a better version of himself out of the rough wood from which he had been hewn. The parts of her that he considered exceptional literally drove him to become the same.

By the time they return to Tristram at the end of Chapter 4, Malthael is driven to reciprocate Farah’s more overt displays of affection, because he internally admits to how he feels for her, and also because he wishes to demonstrate it to her in something more closely resembling her own love-language: 

Farah had sidled through the crowd and finally reached her sister and Malthael. "Welcome back, baina!" She threw her arms around Aya, embracing her for a long moment, before turning to the scholar. "Welcome back!" she repeated, her cheeks darkening. She ran a hand absently through her hair, as if contemplating saying more.

Malthael nodded in reply, then lowered his pack to the ground. Digging through it, he eventually withdrew two book-shaped objects enfolded in silk and held them out expectantly.

Her eyes widened. "Oh, Light. I doubted you would find any, let alone two. They were very obscure." She took them and ran her fingers along the wrappings. "Did they cost much?"

The fleeting distress that crossed Malthael's face was not lost on Tyrael; or, he suspected, on Farah. Her expression faltered, and she hesitantly reached a hand to brush his chest. A moment passed, then he very slowly clasped her hand in his.

His action isn’t a spur of the moment decision, but something he consciously decides to do, both because he wants such contact at that moment, and also because he wants to mirror her care for him.

This takes us to the conclusion of "A Light in the Darkness”, where their feelings for each other are finally put out into the open:

"There is no prophecy here," she whispered, very gently drawing her arm around the small of his back, until her fingers rested on his hip. "There are trees and a lake. Waving grasses and birdsong. Clouds and stars. And you and I."

He closed his eyes, and slowly, she felt his breathing steady. Then, surprising her once again, he mimicked her gesture, hesitantly at first, before more assuredly wrapping his arm about her.

"Tomorrow," she continued, "there will be warm tea and old parchment. The smell of dust and ink. And you and I."

"And the day after?"

"The future, whatever it holds. Perhaps laughter. Perhaps sorrow. And you and I."

"And the day after that?"

She chuckled. "You and I. What sort of Seer do you believe me to be?"

"A personal one."

"That is the most reliable kind."

At this point, I think if Malthael were to look back on his first mortal thoughts in “In All Things Light & Dark”, he would be surprised to see he understands (and has experienced) many of them. He has watched the stars fall with someone who he cares about dearly. He wishes to be beside her, to speak to her, to share his time with her.

And though his mortal experience is different from, say, that of his brother, it is very much shaping up to be the sort of fulfilling, marvelous life that mortality offers.

[it-begins-with-rain]

Goblin: The Lonely and Great God Reaction Thread (Ep 1)

For @ladyvanserra

He moved a pot a couple of inches and broke a Frenchman’s rib. I already like this show!

Period dramas (even partially) and fantasy mixed with history. That’s my drama-kink right there.

Wait why are they declaring him a criminal?

He won the war for them?

Oh wow, violence with blood! Yay korea(n dramas)!

Wait why do you look familiar King Dude?

OH MY GOD IT’S THE BOY FROM “THE BIG HIT”

DOES YOUR FATHER KNOW WHAT YOU’RE DOING RIGHT NOW?!?!?

Actually, he seemed more likely to declare himself a god...

Ah, they’re mad at him for being Julius Caesar, got it.

Well obvs the white girl is supposed to stand out, who are you?

Oh, that was a “we used to fuck” look

“Imma kill every innocent person.” That’s some A+ kinging right there.

Ohhhh yeah, they fucked.

Wait she wants him to go kill the king? Even if everyone dies?

That’s fucked up.

I want more backstory of this whole thing.

“Fire on her from behind the guy walking and kill her to punish him for not being easy to kill!”

Or, you know, order him shot in the back?

And he walks up behind him and slices.

Like, couldn’t just do that before? A+ guarding right there.

Eew, why do people drool when they cry in dramas? Just... eew.

“Forgive me sir for slowly stabbing you with a giant broadsword”

Cut. Off. His. Head. It’s. More. Polite.

See? Like what that guard just did to the other guy.

Man the advisor from Mulan is a dick

I know that’s chinese not Korean.

It’s the hat.

SHE’S STILL ALIVE??? LONGEST DEATH WITH AN ARROW IN SOMEONE’S HEART EVER.

DIE FASTER.

oh the old lady’s ring, splashed with her blood.

So shouldn’t she be a goblin too?

Is that why the old lady looked so young-made-to-look-old?

Is she the dead lady as a goblin in some way?

HOW LONG DOES IT TAKE HIM TO DIE OMFG.

Well, I mean, from the show... a long damn time. But still!

Seoul, 1998, and he looks like Neo

JFC THAT CAR CAME OUT OF NOWHERE AND HE FUCKING DEMOLISHED IT!

Wait, why do you look familiar car dude???

Seriously familiar.

Death is hot and all, but this dude looks SERIOUSLY familiar...

C’mon google, help a girl out

*cries 20 min later when no amount of googling turns up anything*

WHO THE FUCK ARE YOU

Fandom recruited to identify.

BUT NO LUCK

JFC did he have bodies in his trunk???

Death is hot.

He resembles another actor, but I can’t think of who.

Not in the this-will-drive-me-insane way, just---

OH, THE DUDE FROM “THE 100″. BELLAMY.

He reminds me of Bellamy. Just in the eyes and hair.

“Drink this tea or you’ll regret it...” Kind of rapey, Death.

what the frick-frack? that’s a lot of tea

Death literally making tea all day huh? ~drama~

Death that hat looks stupid.

Haha, Goblin just casually dropping shade XDDD

Slightly obsessed with candles, are we?

It’s child abuse to dress a kid like that.

"This is my grandson, who I obviously want beaten up on the playground.”

“From now on, this child will serve you, old bloody sword dude!”

Yeah this is normal.

So it wasn’t just that he was killed with his own blade, it was that he killed so many, or left so many to die at his hands?

HOW ARE YOU NOT RUNNING LIKE CRAZY THE OTHER WAY AT THE ZOMBIE THAT JUST STOOD UP IN YOUR FIELD???

That old guy is so fucking chill...

Oh, he’s going to kill the Mulan-Advisor!

Again, I know that’s Chinese and this is Korean, it’s the hat.

So who was the girl that they gave her a proper memorial?

That poor little Goryeo boy... He’s doomed to one day don the above ridiculous outfit.

Death would have been kinder.

But he is seriously cute as a button!

In the past, not in the yellow thingie.

Is it bad I only find the lead hot when he’s got his warrior-hair (long)?

omg the little nugget is hungry~

and he’s trying to hide it.

THAT BOY DESERVES ALL THE LOVE AND FOOD AND JUST EVERYTHING IN THE WHOLE WORLD.

He was starving! Poor bean sprout~~

WHY ARE YOU BULLYING THE CUTE LITTLE DUDE?!?!?

NO!!!!! NUGGET!!!! DON’T DROWN

SAVE HIM YOU RAT BASTARD!

SAVE THE KERNEL OF CUTENESS!!!

Yes, you using your new powers (that we never see you learn to control) to kill the evil slavers is nice and all

BUT SAVE

THE

BABY

BUMBLEBEE

Ooo, green flaming sword, cool.

But where’s Button???????

YOU. CAN’T. SNAP. TO. PRESENT. THERE.

So they say “Goblin”, but they mean a minor god?

Uh oh, Female Lead in hit-and-run.

I wonder if she’ll be saved

*she says sarcastically*

Wow that is a lot of blood.

Her entire body’s worth

And yet she’s still chatting.

And Goblin will save her.

But not the adorable little bean.

Female Lead is preggo?

Death is gonna be PISSED

And not just because his hat is silly.

OMG that’s the cutest baby ever.

AAH! CORPSES!

Whispering about brides.

Over a baby.

Who is now 8 years old.

The mom looks mildly familiar...

I think from her Banjun Drama days? I think I saw the DBSK ones...

OMFG THAT IS AN ADORABLE LITTLE PUPPY

Who apparently doesn’t exist?

DOES THAT MEAN IT’S A DEAD PUPPY’S GHOST????

NO, THERE AREN’T ALLOWED TO BE DEAD PUPPIES

NOT EVER

NEVER EVER EVER

*traumatized*

Yeah, something was weird with the mom not touching candles.

How’d she die?

Was it before?

Or recently?

This convo with the mom’s ghost is so creepy and sad at the same time

I love it

Seriously creepy, sad, and cool all at once

Love love love it.

This part kind of gives me “Black” vibes.

Did anyone else see that?

It was just ok.

“How do you never seem to grow old granny?”

Because she’s obviously a young lady in age make up.

It’s the eyes. She has painfully young eyes.

And Death came for the kid... why?

Oh, he’s surprised, he came for the mom.

“You of all people should know.”

Oh, so old lady is a Reaper too?

A head of cabbage as a birthday gift.

Yep, she’s an old lady.

Oh look, the old lady is young again. What a surprise.

LMAO the little guy in the dumb hat grew up to be a drinker.

Not surprised with that dumb hat.

JFC the ghost trying to get her attention is freaky.

The dangers of shooting a guy walking in slow-motion.

He looks like an idiot when he blinks.

OK this super intense stare between him and the teenager is kind of eew (even though she’s 19).

Can we do a time jump and age her again?

And he’s like *instant boner*

Ooo, little nugget grew up hot this time

Another reason he shouldn’t have drowned in the Goryeo times.

“How can she be proud of killing her own mom”

Wow, fucking nice family there...

Assholes.

Throwing a rice bowl at her head and demanding money?

Wow.

These fuckers deserve bad things.

Aw, Goblin is adorable with the old man.

He’s got a nice smile.

Just... totally nice.

Is he pacing around where he died? Gnarly.

What? He heard her prayer?

Is it because he saved her?

Aw, he came to her.

Arguing over who summoned who, lmao.

It sounds like when my mother and father think they heard the other call them.

“Did you call me?”

“No, why would I have called you?”

“That’s what I’m asking you.”

“Give me (flowers), they don’t suit you.”

hahahahahahahahaha

He gave her flowers, so I guess this is a first date?

“What do these flowers mean?” “Lovers.” *romantic music*

Again, I know she’s 19... but she looks 15, and he’s like 40.

Aw, Death is looking dapper.

He lives with a centuries-old Goblin.

And is renting the house out to Death.

Why isn’t the show about this guy’s life???

It could be a comedy.

omg burning the contract with a finger-gun is hysterical

And his face when there’s a copy XDDD

DON’T  YOU THREATEN MY LITTLE NUGGET DEATH

NOT EVEN AS A JOKE

I will CUT YOU

This is the bromance I didn’t know I needed.

These two flinging pepper and paprika (or probably chili flakes) around the table like children.

It’s already a comedy! :D

She’s going to work at a Korean Chicken restaurant.

Korean chicken restaurants are proof of the divine.

If it’s made of chicken

and you’re in Korea

it’s going to be amazing.

Especially garlic or soy sauce fried chicken.

But also spicy chicken bites.

Kind of like Korean orange chicken?

I can’t spell the word.

So the connection between them is fire? That’s how she summons him? Or is it the act of putting them out?

“I must be a fairy. Like Tinker Bell.”

*rolls eyes and vanishes immediately to get away from the stupid*

Haha, so it is lighting and blowing out a flame.

If blowing out a digital candle works-

JFC IT WORKS

“Goblin” must be a loose translation.

Because nothing about this is goblin-like in western mythology.

So it must just be the closest equivalent creature to translate to.

Ah, now he knows who she is.

And what she is.

Wow, he’s brutal.

“Just go die then. I only care about you 10 won worth”.

*follows him through a portal to the other side of the world on accident*

I think he just peed himself.

“Canada.... you mean the place with the maple leaf? The one in North America?!?!??!?!?”

LMAOOOOOOOOOOOO

“No matter how I think about it, you’re a goblin... I love you.”

Immediately latches on to tall, dark, and handsome because he insta-travels.

Mood.

[bethestaryouareradio]

Rats Rattles, and Moles

“There's a snake lurking in the grass.” Virgil

10 rattles! Diamond pattern on the skin. This was no gopher snake!

I was checking my orchard on the hill agonizing over the gopher mounds when I saw the slithering snake. Excited to know that I had a friend in the rodent business, I quickly ran to get a closer look.  Dang! Not a gopher snake but crotalus oreganus oreganus-northern Pacific rattlesnake. I was wearing my normal summer gardening gear-shorts, bathing suit top, cowboy hat, and boots.  Not exactly the suggested outfit for wrangling a rattler.  As I was counting the number of rattles, he/she slinked into the rosemary bush bordering my vegetable garden.

It’s been over five years since I’ve witnessed a rattlesnake on my property.  According to the experts, because of the wet winter and now the dry summer, rats, mice, gophers, and voles are ubiquitous, which means that their hunters are in abundance as well. This season I’ve had several gopher, garter, and king snakes as wanted guests. Rattlesnakes give me the shivers.

Every summer growing up on our ranch in Napa County meant a meeting with at least fifty or more rattlers. I’ve stepped on a few in the past and a couple snaked over the top of my boots. Fortunately neither I, nor anyone in my family has ever suffered a bite. Rattlesnakes are the only pit viper found in California.  All are poisonous and potentially dangerous.  They kill their prey with their venom as opposed to constriction. Babies are born fully developed with one rattle and are even more potent than adults.  The rattles on the end of the snake’s tail are used as a warning system, alerting predators or humans to stay away. Every time the snake sheds, a new rattle is grown. Rattles can break off, and to the unaccustomed bystander, a snake without rattles may resemble a gopher snake. Without proper identification, never handle a snake in the grass. Rattlesnakes are not aggressive and don’t usually strike unless provoked, however, since they seek warm-blooded prey, a human could be mistaken as food.

Rodents are inundating homes and gardens this year in search of water and food.  Wherever rodents race, snakes that eat rodents follow.  I discovered a terrific trap that zaps rats and mice dead. It’s called The Rat Zapper and it works like a charm. For gophers, box traps and black hole traps work best. The moles are normally looking for grubs in a lawn and don’t do much damage. I just stomp down on their ridges.  Voles, also called “field mice” or meadow mice” are bad news as they target the root systems of vegetable gardens, lawns, and fruit orchards. They will gnaw at the trunks of trees and shrubs, chew blades and stems of grass, and eat bulbs. They often use empty mole or gopher burrows as their runways.  Voles reproduce rapidly leading to mass destructions of landscapes. Snap traps are best to catch these critters when they exit their holes.

The best protection to minimize the rodent infestation is to invite their natural predators– owls, hawks, and yes, snakes.  A family of barn owls will hunt and eat up to a thousand rodents a year. Consider installing a nesting box for owls. The hawks fly with the wind currents to find the rodent restaurant. Most snakes to visit our gardens are not venomous, yet, all snakes can bite and should not be handled. King snakes are my very favorite snake to have in a garden because they kill rattlesnakes.

The California Department of Fish and Wildlife suggests the following precautions since rattlesnakes do not just reside in rural areas. We live in hill country with plenty of open space, creeks, and trails. Rattlesnakes are here. Pay attention.

⎫ Be alert when walking in a park, golf course, or riverbank.  

⎫ Wear sturdy boots and don’t wear flip flops when hiking. Stay on the trail and don’t wander into the brush. Inform your children to stay with you.

⎫ Avoid tall brush, woodpiles, and underbrush. Snakes often hide during the heat of the day, then, come out at dusk and dawn to hunt.

⎫ Check your sleeping bag when camping, step on rocks and logs instead of climbing over them.

⎫ Watch where you step when leaving your house or a building. Rattlesnakes often stretch out at door thresholds.

⎫ Rattlesnakes swim. Don’t grab onto floating sticks or branches when swimming anywhere, including your swimming pool.

⎫ Don’t put your hand into a place you can’t see. Don’t weed under bushes unless you’ve rattled the area.

⎫ A dead rattlesnake is still venomous. The head needs to be buried.

⎫ If you have a dog, talk to your veterinarian about getting the canine rattlesnake vaccine. For small dogs, it doesn’t always work, but for a large dog, it could be life saving.

⎫ Hire a snake wrangler if you find an unwanted snake. Check online.

In case of a rattlesnake bite, call Poison Control immediately at 800-222-1222 and get to the nearest emergency room. Stay calm, remove rings, and don’t try to suck the venom, cut the wound, tourniquet the bite or ice it.  Most rattlesnake bites are accidental, but all are very dangerous, and can be fatal.

I still haven’t found my rattlesnake but I am being extra cautious, especially when weeding, wearing my boots, gloves, and carrying a sharp shovel.  As much as I despise rats and other rodents, a rattlesnake is not a welcome serpent in my summer paradise where I prefer to be barefoot and bikini clad!

Enjoy the summer and join me in my dance to stay clear of the rats, rattles, and voles!

Cynthia Brian’s Summer Tips:

The following plants are repellents to gophers and moles. Plant them in areas of infestation. Rosemary Marigold Oleander Penstemon Catmint Salvia Strawberry Daffodil Castor Bean

Garden Events

⎫ If you will be in Europe in September you may want to visit the spoga+gafa, the world’s leading garden trade fair September 3-5 in Cologne, Germany with over 2000 exhibitors from 60 countries. http://ow.ly/pBxP30dA88D

⎫ The World’s Pure Food Fair and National Heirloom Expo happens in Santa Rosa September 5, 6,and 7 with three day tickets only $25. Heritage poultry, music, seeds, fruit tastings, dahlia show, colossal pumpkins, and more. http://www.theheirloomexpo.com

⎫ Closer to home, Moraga Gardens Farm, a non-profit volunteer membership garden, 1290 Moraga Way, Moraga between the fire station and School Street grows many varieties of pesticide free, organic vegetables including tomatoes, eggplants, peppers, cucumbers, chard, fruits, and herbs. Watch for demonstrations, lectures, and sales. https://moragagardensfarm.org

Blooming Beautiful! Roses Gladioli Firecracker Plants Snapdragons Magnolias Petunias Pelargoniums Geraniums Daisies Yarrow Hollyhocks Osteospermums

Happy Gardening and Happy Growing!

Read More: https://www.lamorindaweekly.com/archive/issue1111/Gardening-Guide-for-August-Rats-rattles-and-voles.html

Cynthia Brian, The Goddess Gardener, is a New York Times best selling author, actor, radio personality, speaker, media and writing coach as well as the Founder and Executive Director of Be the Star You Are1® 501 c3. Tune into Cynthia’s Radio show at www.StarStyleRadio.com Her new book, Growing with the Goddess Gardener will be available this month! Hire Cynthia for your next project.   Cynthia@GoddessGardener.com www.GoddessGardener.com 925-377-STAR

[goddessgardener]

Rats, Rattles, Voles, and Moles

By Cynthia Brian

“There's a snake lurking in the grass.” Virgil

10 rattles! Diamond pattern on the skin. This was no gopher snake!

I was checking my orchard on the hill agonizing over the gopher mounds when I saw the slithering snake. Excited to know that I had a friend in the rodent business, I quickly ran to get a closer look.  Dang! Not a gopher snake but crotalus oreganus oreganus-northern Pacific rattlesnake. I was wearing my normal summer gardening gear-shorts, bathing suit top, cowboy hat, and boots.  Not exactly the suggested outfit for wrangling a rattler.  As I was counting the number of rattles, he/she slinked into the rosemary bush bordering my vegetable garden.

It’s been over five years since I’ve witnessed a rattlesnake on my property.  According to the experts, because of the wet winter and now the dry summer, rats, mice, gophers, and voles are ubiquitous, which means that their hunters are in abundance as well. This season I’ve had several gopher, garter, and king snakes as wanted guests. Rattlesnakes give me the shivers.

Every summer growing up on our ranch in Napa County meant a meeting with at least fifty or more rattlers. I’ve stepped on a few in the past and a couple snaked over the top of my boots. Fortunately neither I, nor anyone in my family has ever suffered a bite. Rattlesnakes are the only pit viper found in California.  All are poisonous and potentially dangerous.  They kill their prey with their venom as opposed to constriction. Babies are born fully developed with one rattle and are even more potent than adults.  The rattles on the end of the snake’s tail are used as a warning system, alerting predators or humans to stay away. Every time the snake sheds, a new rattle is grown. Rattles can break off, and to the unaccustomed bystander, a snake without rattles may resemble a gopher snake. Without proper identification, never handle a snake in the grass. Rattlesnakes are not aggressive and don’t usually strike unless provoked, however, since they seek warm-blooded prey, a human could be mistaken as food.

Rodents are inundating homes and gardens this year in search of water and food.  Wherever rodents race, snakes that eat rodents follow.  I discovered a terrific trap that zaps rats and mice dead. It’s called The Rat Zapper and it works like a charm. For gophers, box traps and black hole traps work best. The moles are normally looking for grubs in a lawn and don’t do much damage. I just stomp down on their ridges.  Voles, also called “field mice” or meadow mice” are bad news as they target the root systems of vegetable gardens, lawns, and fruit orchards. They will gnaw at the trunks of trees and shrubs, chew blades and stems of grass, and eat bulbs. They often use empty mole or gopher burrows as their runways.  Voles reproduce rapidly leading to mass destructions of landscapes. Snap traps are best to catch these critters when they exit their holes.

The best protection to minimize the rodent infestation is to invite their natural predators– owls, hawks, and yes, snakes.  A family of barn owls will hunt and eat up to a thousand rodents a year. Consider installing a nesting box for owls. The hawks fly with the wind currents to find the rodent restaurant. Most snakes to visit our gardens are not venomous, yet, all snakes can bite and should not be handled. King snakes are my very favorite snake to have in a garden because they kill rattlesnakes.

The California Department of Fish and Wildlife suggests the following precautions since rattlesnakes do not just reside in rural areas. We live in hill country with plenty of open space, creeks, and trails. Rattlesnakes are here. Pay attention.

⎫ Be alert when walking in a park, golf course, or riverbank.  

⎫ Wear sturdy boots and don’t wear flip flops when hiking. Stay on the trail and don’t wander into the brush. Inform your children to stay with you.

⎫ Avoid tall brush, woodpiles, and underbrush. Snakes often hide during the heat of the day, then, come out at dusk and dawn to hunt.

⎫ Check your sleeping bag when camping, step on rocks and logs instead of climbing over them.

⎫ Watch where you step when leaving your house or a building. Rattlesnakes often stretch out at door thresholds.

⎫ Rattlesnakes swim. Don’t grab onto floating sticks or branches when swimming anywhere, including your swimming pool.

⎫ Don’t put your hand into a place you can’t see. Don’t weed under bushes unless you’ve rattled the area.

⎫ A dead rattlesnake is still venomous. The head needs to be buried.

⎫ If you have a dog, talk to your veterinarian about getting the canine rattlesnake vaccine. For small dogs, it doesn’t always work, but for a large dog, it could be life saving.

⎫ Hire a snake wrangler if you find an unwanted snake. Check online.

In case of a rattlesnake bite, call Poison Control immediately at 800-222-1222 and get to the nearest emergency room. Stay calm, remove rings, and don’t try to suck the venom, cut the wound, tourniquet the bite or ice it.  Most rattlesnake bites are accidental, but all are very dangerous, and can be fatal.

I still haven’t found my rattlesnake but I am being extra cautious, especially when weeding, wearing my boots, gloves, and carrying a sharp shovel.  As much as I despise rats and other rodents, a rattlesnake is not a welcome serpent in my summer paradise where I prefer to be barefoot and bikini clad!

Enjoy the summer and join me in my dance to stay clear of the rats, rattles, and voles!

Cynthia Brian’s Summer Tips:

The following plants are repellents to gophers and moles. Plant them in areas of infestation. Rosemary Marigold Oleander Penstemon Catmint Salvia Strawberry Daffodil Castor Bean

Garden Events

⎫ If you will be in Europe in September you may want to visit the spoga+gafa, the world’s leading garden trade fair September 3-5 in Cologne, Germany with over 2000 exhibitors from 60 countries. http://ow.ly/pBxP30dA88D

⎫ The World’s Pure Food Fair and National Heirloom Expo happens in Santa Rosa September 5, 6,and 7 with three day tickets only $25. Heritage poultry, music, seeds, fruit tastings, dahlia show, colossal pumpkins, and more. http://www.theheirloomexpo.com

⎫ Closer to home, Moraga Gardens Farm, a non-profit volunteer membership garden, 1290 Moraga Way, Moraga between the fire station and School Street grows many varieties of pesticide free, organic vegetables including tomatoes, eggplants, peppers, cucumbers, chard, fruits, and herbs. Watch for demonstrations, lectures, and sales. https://moragagardensfarm.org

Blooming Beautiful! Roses Gladioli Firecracker Plants Snapdragons Magnolias Petunias Pelargoniums Geraniums Daisies Yarrow Hollyhocks Osteospermums

Happy Gardening and Happy Growing!

Read More: https://www.lamorindaweekly.com/archive/issue1111/Gardening-Guide-for-August-Rats-rattles-and-voles.html

Cynthia Brian, The Goddess Gardener, is a New York Times best selling author, actor, radio personality, speaker, media and writing coach as well as the Founder and Executive Director of Be the Star You Are1® 501 c3. Tune into Cynthia’s Radio show at www.StarStyleRadio.com Her new book, Growing with the Goddess Gardener will be available this month! Hire Cynthia for your next project.   Cynthia@GoddessGardener.com www.GoddessGardener.com 925-377-STAR

[extraterrestrialbunnyy-blog]

ANCIENT ONE by Jericho's Rage

Tale one: Papa george They giggled like two school children as they moved through the grass. This part of the river was so quiet that the only sound that could be heard was the rustling of the grass and the heart beats of the young couple. Excitedly and in a clandestine manner, he lead her by the arm and forged a new path. "We are here" smiling and pointing at a big tree in front of them "Nobody knows this place.. We won't be interrupted here". Massive and somewhat like a canopy the tree formed what would best be dubbed as a hat. The entrance which was open to the river was slightly covered by the branches that came down from the tree. She wore a chitenge and that was loosely tied around her neck. With the faces of one of the beloved politicians with his deceptive smile across his face. Not even the lying face on her chitenge would hide the fact that she had a seductive figure. Her hair was intentionally shaggy like she had just woken up from a beautiful dream. The way she batted her eyebrows would make any man leave his wife of 50years and she had the smile that said fuck me. Which is what he wanted to do. Looking at her figure in that chitenge, he could tell that she wasn't wearing anything underneath. A beast nurtured by testosterone was wrought forth. He grabbed her, pulled her towards him. With his beastly strength he lifted her by her nicely shaped soft a**. Unbeknown to the would be lovers, another beast had been brought forth... Silently, he lurked and stalked his prey..waiting patiently. * * * * **** ******* ******* ************ His body spread about 5.5m long and on the back of his skin were bony plates with a long snouted skull. His heavily armed mouth made him a f***ing killing machine that was not to be trifled with. Exactly five years ago he had made an appearance and claimed the river to be his turf and since then about a hundred people had fallen victim to his insatiable appetite. Whether young, old... Christian or witch he didn't give a rat's a** as long as you looked delicious you were a goner. At some point he had joined our colleagues the jehovah's witnesses and started knocking on doors of houses that were too close to the river, but his message wasn't about salvation but doom and despair. Some came to believe he wasn't an ordinary crocodile, but a vengeful spirit.. A beast from the depths of hell. This had been made even more so by the futile attempts to capture or put the beast down. Some came to believe he never existed in the first place as none that had seen him ever lived... Only traces of him and remains of his victims were ever found. Using this disbelief to his advantage, he would lay in wait deep within the tall grass that ran along the river for the unsuspecting none believers. ** ** ** ** ** ** ** ** * ** ** * ***** *** He surreptitiously moved deep through the river towards his prey. When he was close enough to feel the body heat from their fornication, he slowly raised his head above the water so as to get a good glimpse of the congregation of sinners. He watched as the young well built stud wrestled the girl to the earth as if to ascertain his dominance. The stud paused for a minute in admiration of his vanquished conquest after which he proceeded with unveiling his treasure. With the girl now bare with all she had to offer exposed to the world, the stud made his entrance which was complimented by moans of ecstasy from both sinners. The stud drilled the girl like he was possessed by an epileptic demon. They both moaned like it were their last f**k!... Heavy breathing ensued then the thrusting got even more aggressive and just like that the stud dropped, completely drained and he was totally screwed. The crocodile knew this was as good a time as ever, he moved in for the kill. "Arrrrgghhh!!!!!" Agonizing screams from the stud as the crocodile dug its sharp teeth into his crotch and buttocks. Using its full strength the crocodile hurled the stud with so much force that it severed his balls and buttocks. His bloodied cadaver went flying across the river. Confused, still on the ground ..on her chitenge and with only the blood covering her juicy parts, the girl screamed in terror. Her breasts jiggled as she tried to move back and escape the onslaught of butchering that was about to transpire... But alas, it was too late. The crocodile after tossing the bloody balls and anus, gave the girl a teethy cunnilingus that gave her an orgasm to die for, literally. After which he severed her head and genitals. ** *** **** *** **** *** *** **** *** *** "Noooo!!!..." He suddenly jumped out of bed. Breathing heavily and sweating like he had just run a marathon. It was just dream, another one of those ever so vivid nightmares-- But to him those surreal dreams were as real as the sun scorching down your back. Sitting up on his bed, he grabbed a small mirror that was in one of the drawers in his room. Staring back at him in the mirror was his scarred face. "I will never forget" Running his finger on his scars that went down his face. The texture of his skin was like tossing a stone into a river of memories; the ripples came bearing down the memories of that day_ About five years ago. . About five years ago in a small ghetto settlement, the place was characterised by people who still moved around with two band radios in their hands tuned in to one of those radio stations with kalindula music. People so screwed up in the heads so much that they believed any old person was a f*cking wizard( or witch).. If anyone was found in such acts as theft or witchcraft ,or therein accused, they were subjected to brutal mob justice of biblical proportion. Most victims of such heinous brutalities never lived to tell the tale.. But one man survived, his name was George. A little girl started the spark that would see an innocent man beaten within an inch of his life.. An innocent man scarred for life. Upon the flame being set, They came upon him like moths.. Breaking down the door to his two roomed house.. they didn't want to hear his explanation they just wanted justice as they saw fit. An entire community baring their teeth against one of their own, they grabbed him like a common criminal. His crime, accused of molesting a neighbour's girl_ The offence got some sugar coating to it as it was linked to rituals by the unscrupulous people just to justify their cruelty against him. Within seconds his clothes were torn off his body, remaining with only a boxer he was dragged through the streets. As every foul word known to man was cast on him, Stones were also being hailed at him from every side.. The people that once smiled at him, the people that he once helped when they were in need.. His kind deeds to his small community was being paid back to him in full. " Burn him the dog!!" A voice from the mob suggested.. Soon an uproar followed chanting the suggestion on. "Buuuurrnnn that f*cking evil dog" Unable to utter a word because his lips were severely damaged.. George was nothing but a bloody pulp-- Now on his knees and looking at his would be executioners. As he looked on, he saw them passing something above their heads.. It was a container. Like a born again, he was baptized with a liquid he thought was water.. It was not until this liquid rolled down his face and over his bloodied and blocked nose that he smelled what it was.. Petrol!!. "P...leas..e!" He stuttered.."Am..". Just then, something unexpected happened. The mother to the girl came screaming and crying calling for a stop to the madness. She threw herself in front of the mob, she cried and begged them to stop. Explaining to the blood thirsty hyenas about how the stupid little bitch had just made up the lies.. She didn't think things would get this much out of control, yes! She didn't "think". "Atase chi namayo ichi" mumbling among the disappointed crowd. Some cursed and cussed the woman for being such a bad mother. The dissuaded mob started scattering and not giving a f*ck about the person they had almost killed-- They each went there way leaving him to his fate. Broken bones, bruised beyond recognition he lay there in a pool of his own blood that had mixed with the petrol. This was it for him, he would die and life would move on like nothing. Why are gods so cruel? He thought to himself-- was this his lot in life. "Hello.. My child" Stranger's voice.. "Forgive them.. For they know not what they do?" The stranger gave out a little laugh as he spoke in his soothing voice. George struggled to open his eyes and make out who was speaking to him. His eyes swollen and obscured by the sun that was shining right in his face, he couldn't make out the masculine figure standing above him. The stranger knelt down and stretched his hand to George, it was then that he saw who it was.. A bearded old man, dressed in white. … Now Known as Papa George, the man of miracles with his own church.. As a matter of fact, the largest church in his neighbourhood. Very well respected, and people went to him for anything. His church was also well known for the tender meat that was served every sunday. Only Papa George knew how to prepare this delicacy that his well loved followers enjoyed so much. They would come to him asking for the secrets to this mysterious soft meat, but he just smiled and said: "Fipelwa na lesa" Each Sunday after a sermon, the church would be treated to this wonderful meat and sometimes with nsima prepared by the women of the church. Papa George was a loving man of God who preached about love and forgiveness. He told the people to always forgive each and not be vengeful, as vengeance was the lord's. To cement this into people's skulls, he called his church "The vengeance is mine...ministries". *** *** ** ** *** *** ** ** *** **** **** The search party had arrived from their search-- It wasn't much of a search as they knew exactly where to look for the young couple that had suddenly gone missing. All that they found were genitals and severed heads of the young man and woman. "Mwebantu imweh!!.. Awweh! Not my child!" Cried the girl's mother as she rolled around in dirt. The women couldn't help but join in the wailing, the men just mumbled among themselves. Alarmed by the fracas, Papa George came out of his house to inquire what was happening. He stood outside of his yard looking at the people that had mobilized a few meters away from him. "What is happening over there?" He asked a young man who was coming from the general direction. " It is bad man of God, the beast has claimed two more lives" Being the pillar of the small community, he went over to comfort the grieved_ Upon seeing him, the people gathered around him. With sad looks on their faces, they asked him to help with the situation. "Please papa, help us.." Before Papa George could even respond, another one reminded him of his recent divinity feats in which papa George predicted the outcome of the recent elections. Papa George like any other man of God smiled a self-gratifying smile. "As I walk through the valley of death" he paused "I shall fear no crocodiles" his hoarse voice echoed through the crowd and they loved it. A resounding amen and a hallelujah was shouted out by the now enchanted mob. Papa George went back to his house to get himself geared up_ in a few minutes he came back armed to the teeth with only a bible, some olive oil and holy water. This fool believed that his faith and this simple arsenal will be more than enough to slay the beast. " Fear not my children.." With a smug look on his face.." I will free you from this torment" With that he sallied forth towards the river on his holy quest and didn't want anyone to accompany him. He only asked his followers to remain fasting and praying and all shall be well before the day was done. Hours passed, and the anxious crowd was getting impatient. Some speculation that the holy man had met with an untimely and brutal demise started going round. Some still believed the papa was still kicking. " Eh!! Loook!" One of them shouted in amazement. From the distance, they saw him coming and on his face was a huge grin. Papa George raised his hands to the sky as if to show them he was triumphant. "My children.. It is well. I have purified the river and that vicious crocodile is no more" He assured the crowd in his soothing hoarse voice.." To complete the cleansing" he went on " God has told me that everyone in this community should attend the general baptism so as to cleanse every one of their sins" He had one of those seductive voices that would even convince the devil to jump off the bridge. They all listened to this smooth talk and swallowed up every word and as sure as day, they agreed to this mass cleansing to purify the river so that the evil beast would finally leave them. Finally, it was D-day, everyone gathered by the river.. Every boy and girl was there to witness this miraculous new beginning. Papa George walked through the crowd and into the river, he went to the centre and asked everyone to join him and gather around him. "Five years ago today.." He started with his fingers being run across his scars.. "I met a man, and this man not only saved me from the depths of hell but showed me the way. He gave me my salvation.. He gave me reason, he gave me power!" "Amen pastor!" The women from the crowd shouted. "He gave me the power to perform wonders.. And told me a day will come when I will bathe in the blood of my enemy. The day will come when they will beg for my mercy.. When they will scream my name" Papa George spoke with a satisfied smile on his face. "Today, you will witness this power first hand" He raised his hands into the air, the grass and trees started to rustle as there was a sudden wind. Overwhelmed by this power, the people started speaking in one of those famous tongues. "You will know what... Hell is" Papa George dug his fingers into his scars, blood came pouring down his face. This act scared the onlookers, most of them started trying to leave the river but could not, they were stuck. Pulling his face off, A large snout emerged from his open wound.. The water around him went into ripples. The frightened people stunned by the events and unable to move started screaming. Papa George's clothes started tearing themselves off as large bony plates protruded from his back. He shook his body and a large tail shot out of his ass. Shaking his head and the transformation was a complete. His eyes glowing with pure rage.. He was the beast of vengeance, the crocodile. A single swing of his tail sent dozens of heads flying across the river_ Guts were spilled. The river now ran crimson with blood and intestines. The people screamed and prayed to every god they have heard of but it was all vanity. Babies were merciless gnawed upon, nobody was spared from the slaughter. After hours of screaming, the bloodied river was silent with only limbs and other parts floating, corpses saturated the river. From the river and among the corpses, a naked figure covered in blood came forth.. It was papa George. Just a few metres from this horrific scene, a man dressed all in black watched in disbelief at the sight of this inhumane carnage. Oblivious to his presence, Papa George with a malignant blood soaked smile said. “Vengeance is mine" as he walked away from the mayhem. *** ** ** *** *** *** ** ** *** ** ** ** * * A few kilometers from this settlement was another, a peaceful town with a loving people. Everyone was so kind to one another , they treated each other as family. "Hello.. My child" An old man dressed in white spoke in his soothing voice. "Hallo sir" The little girl cheerfully replied. "You are such a lovely little soul" The stranger spoke as he scratched his beards. She giggled, "Thank you sir" she added "How may I help you sir?" "I need you to start a rumour for me" The old man smiled as he put his hand on the girl's head.