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#her great uncle took her shopping as a child and bought her a girl's coat. she was accepted by her whole family. except her siblings but!!!
binch-i-might-be · 1 year
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guys. I went to this tiny museum consisting of a collection of everyday objects from the 18th century with a focus on early music recordings, and the (now deceased) owner of the collection who renovated the whole house basically by herself was a trans woman.
there's a PLAY about her. it ran on broadway! it's called "I am my own wife"!!
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her name was Charlotte von Mahlsdorf. the museum is only open two days a week, and the lady did a whole guided tour just for the two of us. they have a little book out of all the couples who got married there (absolutely beautiful house!). lots of gay weddings :)
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oigimi · 3 years
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. owlet .
. mozart and baby oc . found family . 1.9k words .
here’s a found family fic that’s been in my head for awhile now! i really hope you like it. mozart seems like the kind of guy to have a daughter
A cry filled the mansion’s halls, piercing the ears of all who heard it. It was relatively late at night, and everyone was gathered at the front door, staring at quite the unusual package. Gifts and shipments would grace the mansion’s front doors often, but this… this was something entirely different. Rather than a case of Rouge or Blanc, or a bouquet of roses or anything in the ordinary, the residents of le Comte’s mansion stood in front of a baby girl in a basket, with a tag attached reading, “My name is Asuka. Please take care of me.”
“Asuka… Just like- Ah, never mind,” Sebastian started, waving his hand. He bent down to pick the screaming infant up, only to have her screech even louder, and swat her hands around in an angry little tornado.
“Sebas, you’re holding her wrong! You need to-” Arthur’s attempts at calming Asuka were even more fruitless, with her fighting to wriggle out of his arms. He passed her on to Theo, who scared her. She was given to Comte, then Leonardo, then eventually everyone in the room before being returned to her basket.
Vincent looked downwards, his mouth tugged downwards in a frown. “What do we do? I feel so bad for her, she won’t even stop crying. Poor little baby…”
“Broer, she tried to bite you!”
“She’s just little and scared! You were like that too once, Theo.”
As the younger brother clammed up, a final face showed itself that hadn’t been present before.
“What’s all this noise? Whatever you’re all doing, can you wrap it up soon? Or perhaps be a little quieter?” Mozart hissed, marching right up to his roommates and their new problem. He caught sight of Asuka and wrinkled his nose. “Arthur, did one of your little flings catch up with you?”
“No! She’s just a darling little thing that showed up on our porch and we simply can’t get her to stop crying. If you want to get her to be quiet, why not try and hold her?”
Mozart looked at the screeching infant, whose face was reaching a color as hot and fiery as her hair. “No,” he simply said. Babies were messy and loud and provided everything he didn’t want in his life. But, Arthur was right. If there was any way he could try and fix the problem, it was to try and hold this thing. Mozart took a deep breath and took the baby out from the basket, shaking his head and awkwardly cradling her in his arms. “There… there. I suppose.”
“You’re supposed to bounce her,” Vincent chuckled, guiding Mozart into rocking Asuka to the rhythm of his heartbeat. “Just like that.” They looked down, and everyone’s faces melted into shock when Asuka finally stopped crying. Her big, glossy blue eyes were coated with tears, but she stared up in wonder at Mozart, or rather the feather in his jacket. She reached her tiny hand out to grab it.
“No. You’re just going to put it in your mouth and get sick.”
Asuka scrunched her face and pouted, reaching a little harder for the feather. She fussed, to which Mozart simply scoffed.
“No.”
“No!” she echoed, shaking her head. “No, no!”
“She’s already learning to speak like him,” Arthur snickered. “Oh, isn’t that just precious?”
Mozart glared at him as he tried to keep the baby away from his feather. He sat down on the couch, holding Asuka away from his body as if she carried a disease. “How long do I have to hold this thing?”
“Until she goes to sleep. Mozart, can’t you take care of this baby for just one night until we can figure out what to do with her?” Comte asked, tilting his head to the side. “It would mean you can get to your music faster, anyway.”
He looked at Asuka, who was still making fruitless attempts to obtain Mozart’s jacket feather, scowling in contempt at her. “Fine. But only for one night.”
“We all know how ‘just for tonight’ goes. You’ll be with her on her wedding day now!” Dazai mused, earning another deep scowl.
“I am not fathering this child.”
Asuka began to fuss, wriggling around and squirming in Mozart’s arms. He moved his arms so that she was gently pressed against him. “There… I suppose.” He swayed his body to the rhythm Vincent showed him, slowly patting her back. Before he knew it, she was yawning and her grabbing began to stop. “Hm. I’m putting her down to bed. Then I’m going back to my music.”
“Are you sure you should leave her alone? I think she’s gotten quite fond of you!” Arthur chuckled. “You might just wake her up if you leave.”
“Are you serious?” He groaned and looked down at the baby. “I guess I’m going to go to sleep too. The sooner I sleep the sooner time moves forward. Goodnight.”
Without another word, Mozart made a quick stop in the kitchen to warm up some milk. He swiped some chocolate, and glanced down at Asuka. She looked so… relaxed. So cute, even. Mozart couldn’t deny that he didn’t like babies, but the child he held in his arms felt a little different. He didn’t like her very much, but he couldn’t let anyone else take care of her. For some reason, it felt warm in his chest when she would only relax in his arms. As if he was meant to be her father in some way.
He grabbed a second, little cup with this in mind.
When he got to his room, Mozart made a tiny bed on the carpet with layers and layers of blankets and pillows, and laid Asuka down in it. She stirred, and made little cries in her sleep. Was she upset that Mozart had set her down? Could she even tell? It didn’t matter, he still felt a little bad for her. “We’ll get you a proper bed tomorrow. I couldn’t put you in a drawer or in your small basket,” he sighed. “You’re annoying and I don’t like you, but you’ll get a crib tomorrow. Goodnight, owlet.”
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The next morning was full of diapers, crying, hissy fits, and screaming. Sebastian had run to pick up some basic supplies, but it ultimately did very little in the vampires’ battle against a fussy baby. She didn’t like peas, she didn’t like corn, and Vincent had to learn that babies can’t eat pancakes. What could she eat that would make her happy?
“Warm milk,” Mozart huffed, taking some off the stove. He poured some in the little cup he’d carried and let it cool off to a safe temperature. With some strict, yet gentle coercion, he managed to bring the cup to Asuka’s lips and help her drink as much as her tiny stomach could handle. “What was so hard? Babies like milk.” He grumbled a bit and cleaned out the cup. “Morons.”
“Well well well! You really are like a natural father to her!” Dazai chuckled. “What did we predict?”
“Nothing. I’m just not a fool,” Mozart snapped back, lifting Asuka out of the chair and burping her. “The plan today is to get some more supplies. But I am shopping for them.”
“Are you sure you do not want anyone to help carry anything?” Jean mumbled. “I can hold items at the store for you and help take them home.”
“That would be great, thank you.”
Jean’s workplace ended up with a bit more than he expected, with a nice crib and mobile and a lot of bottles and sippy cups. The Frenchman blinked at the juxtaposition between the baby supplies and the items of war he sold in the shop. Mozart mentioned only taking care of Asuka for a few days. The abundance of furniture seemed like overkill.
At a nearby store, Mozart stood next to a stroller with his fussy responsibility inside. He scanned the shelves for toys, putting a set of blocks, paints, and a few stuffed animals inside. He stopped, however, when he laid eyes upon a stuffed snowy owl. “Just like Schelm…” he chuckled. He took the toy off the shelf and held it to Asuka. “Do you want an owl? An owl for the owlet?”
“Ow,” she replied, reaching out for the toy. “Ow!”
“Is that your way of saying ‘owl’? Alright, here you go. Be nice to it.” He paid for the toys and found himself looking in the stroller at the baby. She was cuddling her new toy and inspecting its wings and rubbing it, inspecting it for anything of interest. “It’s just a stuffed animal. Silly,” he chuckled. “Let’s get you home now. I have a feeling you’ll start screaming here in a moment.”
By the time night had arrived, the crib, bookshelf, mobile, and toys were all set up. Asuka was shaking a rattle on the floor when Mozart picked her up. “Alright, it’s time for bed. Come on.”
“Noooo!” she cried. “Nooooooo!”
“Yes. Come on.”
She fussed and began to cry, reaching down at the floor for her rattle.
“No rattles in bed,” Mozart huffed. “Here, I have something you can take in bed.” He reached down on the floor and handed her the stuffed owl. “Here. Your owl.”
“Ow.”
“That’s right. Your ow,” Mozart chuckled, setting Asuka down in the crib with her stuffed toy. “Goodnight, Asuka. You’re a silly little owlet who needs plenty of sleep. I’ll see you tomorrow.”
With that, he wound up a music box and turned off the lights.
------
“Papa, can I get the first slice?” Asuka asked, beaming wide at a large cake in the kitchen. “Better yet, I want the whole thing!”
“You can’t have the whole cake because you’ll get sick. You have my sweet tooth.” Mozart finished moving the cake to the table and sighed, “I can’t believe you’re sixteen years old now.”
“Old enough to get a boyfriend!”
“Let’s not go that far.”
“But you said when I turned sixteen I could!! Papa, you’re being unfair.”
Mozart chuckled and ruffled his daughter’s hair. “Alright, go sit down at the table.”
She did as she was told and grinned, admiring all the presents everyone in the mansion had bought for her. From personalized books from Uncle Arthur to a paint set from Uncle Vincent to expensive clothes from rich Uncle Comte, Asuka was surrounded with so many luxuries given to her by the people who loved her. She was adopted into the greatest family she could imagine, and by the best father she could ever want. Sure, Asuka had a bit of an attitude sometimes, but she always knew when the important things needed to be said.
“I love you Papa,” she murmured, getting up and hugging Mozart. “Thanks for taking care of me, and thanks for all the birthday gifts.”
He smiled, embracing his daughter tightly in his arms. “I love you too. I love you so, so much, Asuka. You gave my life and music meaning like no other… Are you crying?”
“N-no! I don’t cry!”
“Okay.” He kissed his daughter’s forehead and sat down at the table. “No matter how old you get, whether you’re sixteen or sixty, you’ll always be my little owlet. I love you so much, and happy birthday.”
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oh-theres-a-woman · 4 years
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Flowers in a Peaked Cap; Part One
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A/N: Heres to attempt two at writing this author’s note… Let’s just say, I haven’t perfected the art of saving drafts. Note to self to actually find out how to make the draft before losing three solid paragraphs of rambling about the story… Sophie Points; Nil. Laptop/Internet Points; One. Welp, honestly internet and laptop have won a hell of a lot more than that. Just don’t remember how many times I’ve lost work because of not quite understanding how to post on here…. Safe to say I’m still a noob. 
Any hoot! Enough rambling about that stuff. 
After posting the first piece to this story; in the very very early hours of this morning. I couldn’t help but feel the massive urge to continue and work on the more of Tillie’s little adventure. It made me want to think about her as a person outside the relatives that we already know. What this girl’s goals are and ambitions. Unlike the rest of her family, I think she has a relatable amount of vulnerability and anxieties that are more from society’s working in the 1920s compared to her brothers; Arthur, Thomas and John that all suffer war-related mental illness and scars.   
Actively she’s a romantic escapist that wants to make her brothers and aunt proud. Making a name for herself in the means of writing and exploring the tales that are brewed from the memories of old days. 
In the progression of this story, I want to be able to explore the growth in Tillie as a young woman. The stepping out of her brothers’ shadows and coming into her own. Growing into a more confident young woman that could be from meeting new people like in this chapter and moving away from her fears. 
I do see romance in this story, something like and full of all the trend first experience one faces at one stage or another. In terms of smut, I’d think it’s lighter and would be something that is worked towards. Tillie to me doesn’t seem rather lust-driven. So, it’ll happen if it does, and if not; its simply because Tillie Shelby isn’t interested in that sort of thing. 
Important note; I’ll be working on organising the Taglist a little more throughout my next few posts. Please notify me if you’re interested in anything specifically and want tags there or if you mind just being on the general tag list and included in every story I post. Thank you!!!  
Requested By; @csigeoblue​
Parts; [ Prologue ] 
Taglist; @zodiyack​, @itsfrancisneptun​, @amys-small-world​, @fandom-fucking-shit​, @hesagod-notyet​, @hinagiku0​, @dylanlover24​, @amirahiddleston​, @a-dorky-book-keeper​, @theamuz​, @csigeoblue​, @smallheathgangsters​, @beautycinders 
Word Count; 1400
Watery Lane wasn’t the play that supported the wild fantasy’s of Tillie Shelby, but the little bookshop that was filled with many hopefuls or lads that were born a little more well off collectively grouped together. Reading the stories they wrote. This gathering was apparently one that caught the attention of the paper since the known publishers and well-off lads from another book club around England had found themselves doing a sort of travel for their source material. 
Since the profile of this club of prolific writers had taken interest in the area of Small Heath and its inhabitants. Inviting upstart writers or aspiring tellers to come and meet them. So, onward the youngest Shelby strolled until she pulled open the door of the quaint little bookshop. The signal of her arrival was the sound of her kitten heels and the ringing of the bell on the door. Doe-like blue eyes that were like the crystal-clarity of the purest of water found themselves settling on a group of well-dressed gentlemen.  Her eyes flicker between some faces she knew of Small Heath, most of them being the arseholes she went to school with and thought themselves privy to a better life. 
It wasn’t that Tillie didn’t believe they weren’t welcome to it. Mostly, it was the way they treated people in order to get there the young woman didn’t quite agree with. She was rather foolish coming to her though since her brother’s had a very vision about how the Shelby family should be seen. Their measures to getting things done with it were also less than admirable. Perhaps, it was the fact that Billy Bronson, James Fitz and Joe Gilbert made hers and Finn’s school life a living hell one way or another. But, it also made it seem extremely unfair to talk to their older brothers about what happened. Since most knew better than to fuck with the kin of the Peaky Blinders. 
Plooms of cigarette smoke clouded in the air, filling the bookstore with a spiced herbal infusion and rippled tailored sticks of tobacco. Moving her gaze from the lads she knew; to the new arrivals. The youngest of the Shelby mob offered a little smile. “Is there room for one more?” Tillie finally spoke up, pulling her book that contained the novel she had poured hours and hours over. Smiling hopefully. Arms hugging the expensive leather made book that her brothers banded together in the hopes for a lovely birthday present in the days before the war. 
Hoping that she’d fill in with various things she enjoyed to draw, but instead, Tillie hadn’t touched it until she was old enough to respect things. Asking Aunt Pol to help her keep in a safe place until then. Scraps of paper were best for sketches in any case. 
Eyes ever hopeful looked at the posher sort, some seemed wary until a certain collared lad smiled and offered a little nod then the place he’d been sitting. Away from the boys that seemed to make life a little more bothersome. “Thank you,” she whispered, settling down in the seat. Resting the book down on her lap before looking to the other lads who straightened their composure.
“We were all about to introduce ourselves since we’ve never travelled outside of London for such a meeting before. Yet, it seemed like a brilliant idea when bought up. Birmingham seemed like the best place, so raw and thrilling. Small Heath alone.” Spoke finally a lad in a handsome waist-coat, the colouring of coal, stiff collar and matching suit made her think of it being something her brother; Tom would wear. Only on the best occasions, or when he was dressing-to-impress. Unlike Thomas, this lad had handsome hazel eyes, the slightest tan to his skin like he enjoyed the frolicking on the beach. His name was Walter, but everyone called him, Walt. 
“Even the presence of criminal activity and organisations like the Peaky Blinders, it does make the area a prize for writing. Wouldn’t you agree, lads,” spoke up for eccentric Norman, who took delight in the thing that only made Tillie smile in a measure of great awkwardness. The name seemed to follow her everywhere she went, and there was a measure of awkwardness for that.  “Sorry, miss, I didn’t quite mean to be so rude, it’s just you don’t seem the sort to know much on that end, too kind and pretty, huh?” Norm covered himself for any form of rudeness that could have been interpreted. 
Only causing a polite little lowering of her head, as her hands wrapped anxiously around her book’s spine. Before relaxing at the conversation drifting off elsewhere. Sobering to the notion that the following cough from Joe Gilbert had goosebumps appearing on her arms. Causing a vast amount of discomfort in the young woman. Tillie traded glances with the nicer of the Londoner’s; Robert. Whom quickly coughed to get things back on track. 
“In any case, back to the introductions. We shouldn’t dwell too long on the story topics if we’ve lacked the proper course of introduction. Shall I start?” Robert spoke up, settled against set up for the purpose of meetings. “My name is Robert Augustine, myself and these other gentlemen,” he said, gesturing to the others in the group of London lads. 
“Are from a collective of young men that wish to write and publish arts. Never before have we had a lady join us, but surely in this modern world we’d be able to welcome the bright minds of femininity amongst us. After all, lady authors are blooming into the publishing world more and more with each generation.” His words seemed to still the anxiousness within her soul at the agreement of his other companions. Looking forward to seeing a hand extended to her, Robert allowed her to stand. The mix of coarseness and softness met between the two palms meet. 
Holding her book, Tillie looked down smiling a little at her feet. Hugging her book to her chest, like it was the most precious thing to her. That was… Because it truly was the thing that held so much value to her heart. Her right hand still gently in the hold of the Londoner, cheeks lightly warming. “I’m Tillie Shelby, and I like to write about my brothers, their stories before the war. When we were kids,” she lit up sweetly talking of her brothers. Her hand and Robert’s naturally finding it parting, before he settled in his spot by the desk. Arms folding at his chest with a little smile. 
“Would you be willing to share any of those stories?” Robert asked in a light voice. Tillie could only think of one response. 
“Would I ever,” she beamed with a presence that seemed to warm the room and the quiet little shop around them. Settling down into her seat once more, she didn’t think about when the others were introducing themselves. Instead, she found herself lost within stories. The more whimsical tales of lads that laughed and partied. Or the ones that filled with a warmth that made her think of the family that suppressed or lost who they were before the war. Among them, none had known those woes and horrors. 
They’d seen things happen on the outside. Felt the absence of a brother, father, uncle or grandfather that either died or lost what kept to their memory that their younger-selves recalled. Tillie was young then. Merely a baby in some regard. But she couldn’t ever forget the days of laughter, wherein night terrors; her heroes would just come up and curl into the undersized cot she called a bed. Soothing their fingers along with the softness of infant or child hairs–that had yet to understand dryness or damage. 
When business didn’t entirely rule the Shelby family but happened in the background. Those were her tales. The tales of rawness and loss from a different scene. Where her brothers; the men who took over the role of an absent father, became; fathers, uncles, older brothers and best friends. And… Pol became the only mother she ever knew and remembered. Her voice spoke of the volumes to family values and how terrible things broke people. Yet, she never uttered their names aloud. 
Only recording them within her mind when she read the tales that meant something to one of her brothers. Art. Tom. John.
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pennys-th0ughts · 4 years
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Robert Gray - The Origin of Pennywise 🤡 Chapter 1
Papers were scattered all over the desk and the dim light coming from an old oil lamp was fluttering in a lonely corner of the room. It was raining outside one cool November night of the year 1873 and the cobbled streets of Derry were almost empty. The sky was black ink like and the moon was bigger than usual. I was sitting on my armchair next to the window watching the last persons leave the street heading to the warm refuge of their homes.
The rain drops crashing against the window were falling down the glass getting thinner and thinner until the rain became a light drizzle. My eyes were focused on an old naked tree which had been stripped from all its leaves; it seemed to be dead since a crow was holding onto one of its branches looking erratically sideways. A seemingly endless night had woken up from its brief nap time, wet weather made it longer but sometimes the fresh breezes get to cool down my unstoppable mind from overthinking.
Stores were closed and finally the silence took over the sidewalks as insomnia used to take over my tired body and restless mind. I was twenty five years old and I suppose it was an advantage to be that young and have no commitments yet while being the sole heir of the only medicinal store in town. I could use my freedom at will and do whatever I pleased, managing my times since I was my own boss at work. The burden of such responsibility fell down on my shoulders when my father passed away, a couple of years after my mother decided to leave us because of a serious case of fever that my father couldn’t cure. I guess he felt defeated for not being able to cheat death this time and the corrosive feeling of guilt was what finally submitted him one night during his sleep.
The formalities concluded and after an orderly ceremony, the family’s lawyer made me sign some papers, then it all became in some kind of beneficious curse I needed to keep on going in order to survive. My father was the only apothecary in Derry and he began teaching me from an early age the art of mixing drugs to create specific medicines, so my grandfather did with him and so on.
Business flourished when a new disease wave attacked the small town leaving many fatal victims and several people in a critic health state. The only hospital was packed and people who couldn’t get medical attention in this facility had to stay indoors to prevent spreading the illness. There is when I stepped in. During a whole month I wouldn’t stop preparing thousands of dosses commissioned by the hospital and many other wealthy families. I would end up working night and day to fulfill the town needs for medicine to cure diphtheria, soothe the pain and reduce the fever. I got to really enjoy my work, but one day I couldn’t take the overwhelming pressure anymore that made me snap, so I started looking for an assistant to help me out with the preparations and also someone to deliver them. Speeding up the delivery could definitely save other people’s lives.
Shadows of death were still lurking and swallowing everything in its path, turning the alleys darker and the houses emptier. The plague was spreading faster than we could cure it and the atmosphere in Derry was getting heavier with sadness and hopelessness. During the nights, streets looked like pathways to afterlife and the little oil lamps hanging at the entrances were like golden eyes, always watching and waiting.
Two days passed and interested people didn’t make themselves wait much longer and started to come to the drug store asking for the jobs. They were all willing to help but none of them fit with the qualities I was looking for. Until one day I finally found her, or perhaps she found me. Her features were as I imagined them and even better; she had little hands and long fingers, she was meticulous and careful. Her name was Charlotte Wise but she was known in town as Ruby, a well-deserved nickname since her hair was red as the stone. The day she came into the store everything changed, as if a sudden peacefulness had taken over the place. My new assistant would transform not only my work but also my life from that moment on.
Spring arrived after the dark days left Derry and its people slowly tried to get back to normal. Charlotte and I began having more time to spend in each other’s company so I decided it would be a good opportunity to teach her something new related to her job. We were still working as usual but the environment inside the shop had some kind of magic that was making it springier. Andrew, Charlotte’s younger brother, took the delivery job and he was doing very well, we didn’t receive any complaints about time or packages delivered in bad conditions. The boy was attentive and helpful, just like his beautiful sister. Agility was on his side and he was making a great use of it with the bicycle he got for the job. When work increased we bought a new mean of transportation so the boy wouldn’t get caught under the suffocating heat or merciless storms.
That year ended with a happy ending for Derry and we started a new one even happier. Charlotte and I had gathered enough money to begin a new life; she wanted to live with me so we bought a small but modest house two blocks away from the shop. Her brother would inherit his sister bedroom in their mother’s house so things couldn’t have settled down any better. I proposed Charlotte to be my wife one hot summer morning to which she merrily accepted. We got married at the chapel and later we had a delicious brunch under the willows of the park. That day and the ones that would follow would be memorable.
August, 1875
Charlotte’s contractions were getting more often and she will soon start her labor. We found out she was expecting later that summer which to me was like more wonderful news. I was in the middle of a preparation to help diuresis when someone came to the shop and let me know that my wife was in the operations room. I left Andrew in charge of the shop until I got back and rushed to the hospital taking the carriage; it will get me there faster.
I got to the Derry Public Hospital just in time to hold my wife’s hand and help her with her labor. Although she wasn’t looking so well she was doing an amazing job, showing her braver side, as always. The nurses were extremely careful and gentle; they were coming and going, taking wet cloths and other objects to the room.
After a long struggle Charlotte finally delivered a beautiful baby girl into this world. The doctor cut the cord and put her on my wife’s arms; he turned around and made me to a side to talk privately.
– Congratulations Mr. Gray – the literate man said squeezing my shoulder-. Your daughter is in perfect shape – he made a pause and, with a lower tone of voice added- but I'm afraid your wife is in delicate condition now. She has lost too much blood and she will require an intensive iron treatment to overcome the anemia she might possibly develop.
The doctor gave me a prescription with the steps to follow and a food diet, I thanked him for his advice and went back with my wife that had fallen asleep cuddling our child. The little girl was oddly quiet, she seemed confused and curious yet she was paying attention to her surroundings very carefully. I came closer to take a better look at my tiny wonder and took her little hand with my fingers that she immediately held on to firmly. My heart was pounding inside my chest like a machine out of control, making me sweat almost profusely. Nervousness, excitement and curiosity were a complex mixture, as the ones I was so used to prepare with the only difference that this one was totally out of my knowledge.
Charlotte was indeed exhausted and very pale but I could see the joy sparkling in her face. She made a huge effort to open her eyes which eyelids seemed too heavy. Once she could finally fix her eyes with mine, she grabbed my hand and made me sit next to her. She looked at me in silence for some minutes as if trying to dig up my feelings somehow and figure out what was going on inside my head. Slowly the light in her eyes started to fade away, like a candle about to be completely consumed.
– Promise me you will always look after her, Robert – she pleaded in a whisper.
I nodded bitterly without saying a word knowing that, deep down inside she was, in some way, asking me to do something she wouldn’t be able to do and she just wanted to be sure we would be okay. I stroked her cheek so tenderly that the very contact with her smooth skin made the tips of fingers ache. I hugged them both as if I was trying to protect them from the world and the coldness it owned, but my arms seemed not to be enough. Nothing seemed to be enough to replace the turmoil of divided feelings I was being prey of that very moment so, I did what I was the best at, I began mixing them just to find the balance between happiness and sadness, wholeness and emptiness.
Five years later
Snow was covering Derry like no other time of the year and streets looked like unpolluted highways to heaven. There were some children playing in the front gardens of their houses, some were throwing snowballs at each other and some others were building snowmen. Augustine was having a hard time building her snowman since the snow kept on crumbling or the little branches didn’t stop falling from their holes. I was watching her through the window and her persistence was one of the many reasons of my smile. I grabbed my coat and went outside to help her finish what for her seemed to be a colossal monument. She was almost six years old and her mother and I had the chance to pick a name for her which I will always be totally grateful for.
Christmas was near and I had already bought Augustine her present. Andrew would spend the holiday with us since I started to enjoy my brother’s-in-law company and her niece loved her uncle very much. He became a great help when Charlotte passed away and our daughter was still a baby, he would take care of her while I was working and making the deliveries from time to time.
After Charlotte died I didn’t feel the need to bring another woman to work to the shop and less to start a new relationship, the hollow she left inside me was big enough to be impossible to be filled with somebody else’s presence and the fact was I wouldn’t ever try to replace my wife no matter how alone I could feel. My queen left her throne and I had a princess making her way to occupy it someday and that, for some unexplainable reason, was already a whole challenge that I had gladly accepted the very moment I looked at this little girl into her eyes.
To be continued…
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myriadis · 7 years
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Pleased to Meet You
For @celxstialclan​ 
Aiko looked at her living room with satisfaction. Since Tsukimi called her the previous day to tell her she was visiting her to introduce her newborn baby, she had done an amazing effort to clean up the house and to make sure Kara took his nap in his room. Also, she had bought some cakes from their favorite pastry shop and just when Aiko had finished brewing tea, the doorbell rang. As she expected, her friend was in the doorstep.
Tsukimi had yet to recover her figure but her coat made it less noticeable, and she looked worn but her eyes had the joyful gleam of a new mother. One hand was bolding a diaper bag and the other a baby car seat that was covered with a blanket. 
“You’re so mean, Aiko, you didn’t visit me at the hospital!” Tsukimi complained with a pout, greeting her friend with a kiss and carefully laid the seat over a table. 
“Sorry, I just couldn’t find someone to replace me for that conference in Shizuoka!” 
“Well, it doesn’t matter anymore. Musashi is out of the country in another kendo tournament, so I am alone at home with the baby.” Tsukimi removed the blanket from the seat, revealing a plump newborn that was sleeping peacefully.
“Look at him. He looks like you, Tsuki.” Aiko’s cheeks flushed slightly, overwhelmed with cuteness. From the moment Tsukimi told her about her pregnancy, Aiko had been genuinely happy for her friend and would excitedly sit down to touch her belly, buy things for the baby, and even look for baby names. 
“His name is Mutsuki, written with the first characters from the words for ‘harmonious’ and ‘hope’.“ Tsukimi said proudly with her choice of name. 
“Really? I thought it was just a mashup of your names: Musashi, Tsukimi… Mutsuki.”
“That’s not it. I chose his name carefully!” Tsukimi retorted very mortified, and the baby stirred on his sleep. But as a matter of fact, she did think the same when she came up with her son’s name. “Besides, since it’s the traditional name of January, and he was born in that month, we thought it was fitting.”
Mutsuki was a very handsome baby, with curly black hair, rosy cheeks and thick eyelashes. His mouth pouted slightly and his brow furrowed in the same way Musashi did when he was very deep in thought. But Mutsuki resembled his mother the most. 
With all the fuss around him, Mutsuki groaned, about to cry but was soon quiet again when Tsukimi held him, and he opened his dark, innocent eyes.
“He’s so adorable!” Aiko squealed “Can I hold him?” 
“Yes, of course. But please clean your hands and face first.” Tsukimi gave Aiko a disinfecting wipe. 
Aiko arched an eyebrow in amusement with her friend’s request, and after cleaning herself up, she held Mutsuki and raised him over her head. “The lion king’s here!”
“Aiko, careful! His neck muscles aren’t that strong yet!” 
It seemed that Aiko’s happy cheer had been a calling to summon her older siblings. Sora came out from the kitchen, bringing the pastries, coffee and tea; Takashi had just finished repairing a leak, and Haruki returned from work. The fact that they had showed up at the same time made obvious that they were there to take a look at the newest member of the Uchiha clan. Tsukimi was very pleased that her little son was getting so much attention.
Sora was the first to approach Aiko and was delighted with the baby, but especially with the onesie he was wearing. “Aww, he is adorable! Do the clothes I made fit him just fine with no allergic reactions?”
“Yes, thank you very much. They’re better than the ones I was about to buy at this exclusive boutique.” A few weeks before Tsukimi’s due date, Sora had the consideration to give her a big bag of unisex baby clothes made with the best quality material and extreme care with the details. 
“That’s good.” Sora was about to take the baby, but Tsukimi also gave her a disinfecting wipe. She cleaned herself without issue and also held Mutsuki, but definitely not in the same way as Aiko had done. Mutsuki seemed slightly uncomfortable but just stared at Sora in silence. “Hello, little one…”
“Oh look, another squishy.” Haruki spoke, taking a look at the newborn. He was his love rival’s nephew but despite that specific factor, he had the best wishes in mind for Mutsuki. “I hope he has his uncle’s charming personality.” 
“Wow, Haruki said something nice about Genji and it didn’t rain outside.”Sora joked, laughing softly. 
Tsukimi smiled, and before Haruki reached for Mutsuki, she also handed him a wipe. Already used to fussing mothers from having to deal with Kadia and her babies, he couldn’t believe that the tomboyish Tsukimi would also become one. 
 “I don’t think that’d make Musashi happy, but I do believe he will.” she crossed her arms and Sora passed the baby to Haruki, who gently poked his cheek “My son won’t grow up to become a heartless dick like my other stupid cousins!”
“Watch your mouth.” Takashi said, standing at a safe distance from the group. “You don’t want your child to have a potty mouth, do you?”
“Come here, Takashi, the baby won’t bite you!” Aiko encouraged him while pulling his arm. 
Takashi remembered seeing Tsukimi before when Aiko invited her over for tea a year ago, and again when she threw her a surprise baby shower. That last time, Tsukimi was very round, content, and evidently very attached to her unborn child. She reminded him of his mother when she was expecting Aiko, and predicted Tsukimi would make a good mother. 
The curiosity got the best of him and he looked at Mutsuki. “So you finally showed up.” Takashi cleaned his hands with a wipe and his fingertips gently stroked the baby’s face. A soft smile crossed his features, remembering when Aiko was that small.
“Do you want to hold him?” Tsukimi asked, taking notice of the tender expression in Takashi’s face  
“Ahahahaha… no.” Takashi backed off from Haruki, as if Mutsuki had a highly contagious disease.
“Why not?” 
“Don’t take it personal, Tsukimi.” Haruki said returning the baby to Tsukimi “It’s just that Takashi nearly dropped Aiko when she was a newborn and he hasn’t held a baby since then.”
Tsukimi chuckled and looked down at Mutsuki, who was cooing and staring at her. She remembered that Musashi also had been a bit fearful of taking his son in arms for the first time, but he had done it well anyway. She handed Mutsuki to Takashi, putting his big hand behind his little head and his arm under his back. “See? It’s easier than you think—!”
Takashi was trembling, despite being encouraged to sit down. Mutsuki was lighter than he thought, and he leaned on him seeking a more comfortable position. Just as his nerves were slowly settling down, Mutsuki sneezed and squirmed, panicking Takashi. But Tsukimi put her hands over his and looked at his eyes.
“It’s okay, he just sneezed. I’m here, you are doing great.” she smiled to him and continued holding his hands, giving Takashi a little bit of reassurance.
“Wow, I’ve never seen Takashi so tame before.” Aiko murmured, noticing he was calming down.
“That’s because a hot mama is turning him on” Sora teased while laughing to herself.
“Mutsuki likes you.” Tsukimi said, embracing her child again.
After they had their turns holding the baby, the group had tea and cake while Mutsuki slept. Aiko bombed Tsukimi with questions regarding the delivery, and she gladly answered all of them. The more explicit she was about it, the less apetite the others had.
“And when he finally came out, Musashi almost challenged the nurse to a duel because she didn’t let him hold Mutsuki right away. He was all bloody and slippery but still Musashi didn’t care.” Tsukimi explained, sipping her tea. “Oh, for the record, he cried.“ 
“I understand that feeling, I felt the same when my first child was born” Haruki said, without any disgust as he was the only one who appreciated the ‘miracle of life’. 
“You cried? How come i didnt know that before?” Sora asked in a playful tone.
Tsukimi smiled while she listened to the siblings pester each other, and smiled fondly, remembering her own family. Perhaps she had more in common than they thought.
“You know, Haruki, if your next child is a daughter, Mutsuki might be your future son-in-law.” Aiko said out of the blue.
“Aiko, my baby is too young to think about girls and marriage! Tsukimi protested before Haruki did. However… “You’re very handsome, your daughter will be gorgeous. I will approve if my son loves your daughter in the future, but warn her about Musashi.” she was so earnest, that Haruki dropped his cup of tea.
Before a bigger argument started regarding if it was legal to arrange marriages between babies and unborn children, Tsukimi’s mobile rang, and after hanging, she hurriedly finished her cup of tea.“Kagami says Musashi has arrived to the airport. I have to go or he will lock himself with the baby if he finds out I left the house without telling him! Tsukimi picked her things along with Mutsuki and bowed before the Kamiyas. “Thanks for everything, guys, I had a very good time. I will have a whole year of maternity leave, you can come by anytime.“ Mutsuki woke up and giggled “He says it was nice to meet you!”
“Pleased to meet you too, Mutsuki!” Aiko waved them off. She was the most excited to see how that little boy turned out to be.
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