#hold the cat in ways that are unsafe and very obviously hurt her that she cant lock up the cat in a closet for hours just because she feels

[kittybellestark]

Falling Apart At The Seams

Part 5 of 5

Read on AO3

Read Part 4

this is v dialogue heavy and we officially see Peter again lol

uh this has been great to write and seeing y’alls reactions has been cool

Trigger warning: discussions of past rape, self-blaming and insecurities

What happened with Mary was kept out of the news.

Tony was grateful for it. Had the news gotten what had happened to him- Tony really didn’t want to think of it. But he was grateful. It was only the Avengers he needed to deal with. Just the Avengers and Peter. His son.

He had a son. A whole full grown child that he was forced to create. 

At least he already knew Peter. It’s not like he was some stranger. They already had something of a relationship. This wasn’t the first meeting, they weren’t starting from scratch. Well okay, they might be starting over but it’s not like Tony and Peter are complete strangers. 

Tony had heard that Peter was already aware of what had happened. It should have been Tony who told Peter what happened, but he was glad that May did it first. With Mary’s confession in front of Peter and then May going to talk to Tony there was just too much going through Peter’s head that May needed to say something. Leaving him waiting for an explanation when he already knew half the story would have only caused Peter more harm.

It was selfish of Tony to be grateful that he didn’t need to explain anything to Peter, not anything in depth. He knew they’d need to talk about things eventually, but explaining why he was Peter father wasn’t something Tony stomach at the moment. They can talk about their relations without bringing up the why. For now, at least.

For a week Tony didn’t leave him room. He needed a week to get all his thoughts together, in a place no one other than Pepper or Rhodey would bother him, in a somewhat safe place. The week let him look at pictures of Peter, watching footage of the two of them in the lab before everything. It let Tony think through things, how he should approach Peter and what he should say. The time in his room was necessary. It gave him the smallest feeling of being safe and that was a win.

But Tony didn’t feel all that safe.

Tony knew Pepper was right when they spoke last week. But knowing that she’s right doesn’t stop him from feeling everything he’s done has been wrong. Logically it made sense, that Tony wasn’t at fault for any of it. Had the roles been changed, had it been Rhodey instead of Tony, Tony knew he would be saying the same things as Pepper. Unfortunately, it’s just too personal. Not that Rhodey isn’t personal, but there’s a difference between it happening to your friend and yourself. Logic doesn’t work when you’re brain forgets what logic is. 

He wasn’t sure how to connect with Peter anymore. It seemed that once Peter received the label ‘son,’ Tony wasn’t able to go about things like he used to. The alarm bells in his head would start going off when he’d classify Peter as his child and panic would start to rise. It wasn’t fair to Peter, that Tony was hiding in his room trying to settle himself into everything, but it wouldn’t have been very fair for Peter to watch Tony break into panic attacks either.

The best part of the week, was that Tony didn’t really see Mary in Peter. Not in the pictures he had or in the interactions they had in the lab. Sure, there were certain parts of Peter that resembled Mary, the shape of his lips, the curve of his nose, even his eyebrows. There was a lot more Tony in the way Peter looked though. Peter’s jaw, eyes, smile and hair were all Tony.  No doubt about it. So if Tony just focused on the parts of his child that was solely his, then it shouldn’t hurt so much.

“Fri, could you ask Peter down to the lab?” Tony’s voice shook, uncertain if that was the right move, but if entered the lab right after Peter then he could make sure that he is closer to the door in case he needed to leave.

“Are you sure, Boss?”

“Yeah. Tell him I’ll be down right after him.”

Tony waited a few minutes before making his way down to the lab. He could feel his heart pounding erratically. This was... a lot. It’s a lot. Tony just needs to face the truth and not hurt Peter too badly in the process. It’d be better if Peter didn’t get hurt at all but it’s already far too late for that.

He entered the lab, and saw Peter sitting at his own work bench, fiddling with a coiled cable. The teen look exhausted, the positive energy that seemed to follow Peter everywhere was gone. He looked pale and looked as closed off as he used too when they first met.

“Do you call me Mr. Stark because your name used to be Tony?”

That wasn’t how Tony wanted to start the conversation. It wasn’t even something he considered until he entered the lab. This wasn’t even the type of conversation Tony wanted them to have. At least it was a step in the right direction. Talking is better than no talking. 

“Oh, um- not at first. Y’know before I met you, I’d only refer to you as Tony Stark, because, obviously. Then calling you Mr. Stark was out of respect, but then getting to know you it felt like it’d be weird to call you Tony because I’ve associated a lot of bad things with that name. I guess I didn’t want to associate those things with you, but it’s a little too late for that, right?”

“You’re allowed to hate me. I knew I had a child, I didn’t know it was you, but I knew there was a kid out there, that was mine. And I ignored you, the idea of a kid because I was too hurt to keep you out of an unsafe situation. So you’re allowed to hate me for that.”

“Wait. You didn’t know that I was your kid?”

Peter put down the cable and Tony sat down on the nearest workbench. The two stayed a few work benches away from each other, enough room to have the much needed separation, yet not far enough to be alone. DUM-E moved from his docking station to Tony’s side, resting it’s arm across his legs. The electronics in the room seemed to hum louder now that there was no other noise to distract from conversation, and the lab just didn’t feel all that safe.

“No, I didn’t know, not until right before you did. Do you know why I ever approached you?” There was a beat of silence before Tony continued. “Of course not, I never told you, not really. Obviously you know I approached you because of Spider-Man, but honestly I hadn’t really paid attention much to your web slinging antics before hand. Then one day this video of you went viral, right? Not you catching a bus or getting attacked by a cat in a tree, not even you getting completely toppled over by that one dog. It was this video of you as Spidey, holding this little girl in your arms. She was crying, and you kept her body covered with this blanket. You held her tight against you, and you started talking about how your babysitter used to hurt you the same way hers was. There were camera’s on you, people videoing this horribly personal moment, and you either didn’t notice, or you didn’t care. You told that little girl that your babysitter raped you, and comforted her, and let her know that good babysitters would never touch a child or anyone like that. Peter you were fourteen at the time, and I hadn’t told anyone what happened to me. That video going viral helped me tell Pepper. She was the only one who knew what happened until I told Rhodey this year. 

“Because of you, I was able to tell someone who loved me a whole lot what had happened to me. I felt I had a debt to repay, so I found out who was behind the mask, and it happened to be you, an actual child. I wanted to make sure you were safe and that despite what happened to you with your babysitter, that you’d have a good life going forward and that if you continued being Spider-Man that you would have the best equipment and help on hand. 

“I never intended to offer you an internship, or for you to become apart of what I consider to be my family. I genuinely did not know that you were I abandoned. I spent years hating myself, because the whole thing was my fault and then I couldn’t even bring myself to find out who my kid is, where they are, and then take them out of Mary’s care. Every time I tried to bring myself to do it, I couldn’t.

“Because of you Peter, I was able to open up about what happened to me. And because of you, I was able to start healing. It’s shitty of me to have only started to come to terms with everything that happened when you were 14, then start healing when you were 15. I’ve had your whole life to deal with it, and I didn’t. Me being able to heal should have never been put onto you, or knowing you. I should have put in the work and I should have found out who you were when she released me and taken custody of you.”

That was a lot more emotions then Tony was expecting to give all in one go. A lot more truth than he thought he’d tell Peter right away. But, if he was going to do this, try and be someone in Peter’s life that Peter can continue to go to, then this heart-to-heart, this raw honesty is necessary. Peter might hate Tony forever, or choose to not have a relationship with him, but at least they can talk things through.

“I was really angry at you,” Peter started, “when you got back to the tower and Mary was there. I was really angry. She admitted everything, right then and there, probably because I happened to be there. I blamed you for the years of trauma I was caused that I don’t even remember anymore, and every bad thing that happened in my life. My first reaction was to blame you, because suddenly Mary is saying you’re my father, and I don’t really think a DNA test is necessary to prove that. I look like you, I act a bit like you too, the team always joked about it. This was just confirmation. I blamed you though, for everything. I thought it meant you knew exactly who I was to you and that you lied. And I thought that you knew what happened to me before and you chose to stay away. It’s not like you didn’t know you had a kid right? So I thought, ‘he knew he’s my dad so why didn’t he save me.’ Then May talked to me. She reminded me of my own experiences. I had shut down after Skip- uh, I shut down after that. I was eight years old, and I wouldn’t get out from underneath my bed unless I had too. I refused to go to school, I iced out all of my friends, but I still had my aunt and uncle. I had a support system, and therapy and I got to see my rapist go to jail. 

“We’re both guys, Mr. Stark. May told me you didn’t tell anyone, because you didn’t think they’d believe you. I don’t tell anyone either, y’know. Yeah, so I was raped by another man, and was also a child, and you were an adult raped by a woman, but people still have that idea that we wanted it, that we could have fought them off. It’s messed up. I dealt with my trauma about it for years, and I had people to go to. You didn’t. I don’t think you could be a father to me, like that, I don’t know if anyone could be if they were in your shoes. It’s a lot to go through, especially when you know that Mary’s goal in all that was me. My existence was her motivation in raping you. I don’t know if anyone could be a good parent, knowing that someone raped them with the intent of having a child. Mary is a horrible person, and she’s done bad things to me and worse things to you, but she’s still my mother, I can’t ever erase that. She wanted me so badly, that she was willing to kidnap and rape you for months on end. Her motivation was me, Mr. Stark. Had she not of been a horrible person who wanted to have a kid she wouldn’t have done what she did to you. But she’s a bad person, who wanted me to exist, and I shouldn’t blame you for trying your best to deal with things on your own because of Mary.”

“Kid, it sounds like you’re trying to blame yourself for something,” Tony sighed. “You didn’t exist then. She wanted a baby, obviously that’s the source of her motivation that we know, but that’s not on you. Mary is at fault here, no one else. Don’t shoulder the blame for this.”

Tony felt dizzy. This was a lot more than he was expecting. And he was expecting a lot. Crying, yelling, hatred, being blamed. But he didn’t account for who Peter is. Of course Peter would make the comparisons between the trauma they’ve both had and take on the blame himself. Peter has always been the type of person to feel guilty over something he had no control over, just like Tony. It shouldn’t have surprised Tony that Peter would have thought about what Mary did and what Tony went through so much that Peter would take on all the blame, And yet here they are, Peter finding a way to put the blame on himself and Mary.

“I know that it’s not my fault, Mr. Stark. Rape can’t be blamed on anyone except the rapist. But I was still the motivation behind it. Mary, my mom, raped you for me to exist. If she didn’t want a kid she wouldn’t have raped you. If I wasn’t put into witness protection she wouldn’t have kidnapped you with the intent to rape you, again, for another child. It’s not my fault, but I’m still the reason behind it.”

Peter’s shoulders shook, and Tony could see his eyes were red and glassy as Peter tried not to cry. Tony’s heart hurt for the kid, his kid, his son. Peter was Tony’s son, and he was here and hurting. He wasn’t even hurting because Tony abandoned him, but because he blamed himself. Peter was too good, far too good for Tony, and far too good to have come from a place of terror.

“I don’t blame you, Peter. I didn’t blame you when I didn’t know it was you either. When I didn’t try to find you it wasn’t because I thought it was your fault. It’s because the entire thing felt like mine, and I didn’t think I could be a good father, especially if you looked like Mary. You don’t look like her. You look like me. I thought I hate hate my own kid because of what happened, but I don’t hate you, Pete. I’m really grateful that you’re my son. Out of all the kids in the world that could have been mine, I’m lucky it’s you. I don’t know if I could ever be what you want or expect me to be, but I can do my best.”

“Mr. Stark- I don’t understand?”

“I don’t know what type of relationship you want, whether that means cutting me off completely or keep the whole mentor-mentee thing, or if you want the father figure thing. Whatever you want I’m okay with it. And I don’t want you to think that I’m going to take you away from May. She raised you and I won’t tear you two apart. Kid, this also isn’t me trying to make you feel like you have to what you think I want.”

DUM-E whirred leaving Tony to grab a stress ball and bringing it over to Peter. This made Peter smile, taking the stress ball and tossing it for DUM-E to fetch. The robot beeped chasing the ball and heading back to Peter. Tony stayed silent, letting Peter play with DUM-E and think. 

While this was a lot for Tony, it was surely a lot more for Peter. Their situation couldn’t be considered anything less than traumatic. It’s not like Peter hasn’t had enough trauma in his life. This was selfish of Tony, he should have considered what Peter has gone through. Now Tony has put pressure on Peter about a possible relationship. Of course Peter would say he wants some sort of relationship with Tony, he hates disappointing people. Peter wouldn’t do anything if he thought it’d upset someone. Tony should have been responsible, he should have just taken himself out of the equation. Just because Tony cared for Peter doesn’t mean he has any of the right to just stomp right in and claim himself as  a dad.

Tony was horribly selfish for thinking he had any claim in Peter’s life. And even more so for putting a decision on Peter that Tony should be making. Everything is being put onto Peter like there wasn’t already enough there. Tony is already failing as a father. Already, like the last 15 years of Peter’s life hasn’t already been a complete failure on Tony’s part. He’ll never be good, not for Peter, he never has and never would.

“Sorry, Pete, this was a bad idea. I shouldn’t- this wasn’t- I’m sorry.”

Tony stood up, sniffing as he brushed off his legs. He moved to leave the lab, leave Peter, quit making mistakes. For 15 years Tony has failed his son- Peter’s whole life- 16 years he’s failed himself and his child. This will give Peter time. Time to recognize that Tony was being selfish. Everything was wrong and Tony should not be entitled to Peter’s life and emotions.

Peter looked confused, his held tilting to the right, eyebrows furrowed, and a small pout. For just a moment Tony saw a flash of Mary on Peter’s face before it passed. Tony couldn’t help flinching and taking a step back, before dropping his head forward. He flinched at his own son. Tony flinched, he saw Mary when he looked at Peter. There was no way to be a good father if he couldn’t separate the person who hurt him with the person who came from that.

“You can’t just leave, Mr. Stark. I’m not something that you can just lose interest in and come back when you feel like it. I’m your kid now, if you don’t want me in your life just say it. I’d rather you just say ‘Peter you remind me too much of your mother and I don’t think I can look at you,’ instead of stringing me along.”

“I’m not trying to do that. I don’t want to pressure you into something you don’t want.”

“I don’t care. You’re the adult. You can’t say whether we’re going to be estranged or close is on me then walk out. That’s not how it works, and I don’t even know how this works. But you don’t get to walk out on me. We’re family, and you don’t walk out on family.”

“I don’t know what to do, kid. I’m not trying to walk out on you, just give you time. Everything has been overwhelming, and I just gave you a lot to consider.”

“No,” Peter stood up, still staying on his side of the room, but moving a little closer to Tony, “I’ve had a week to think when you secluded yourself. A whole week where I had to deal with this alone. Richard died, he was my dad and he died trying to get me out of a bad home. Ben died, he was my uncle and the closest thing I’ve had to a dad for as long as I can remember, he died protecting me. Then I’m told you’re actually my dad, and my mother didn’t try killing you. Instead I have to deal with the fact that I’m born from rape, that my mom is a rapist. You’ve left me alone for a week to deal with this, we’re now at the part where we get to decide what happens. And it’s not you walking out on me.”

Tony sighed and sat back down on the workbench. He ran one hand over his face before tucking his hands under his legs. 

“No walking out,” Tony agreed.

“We’re in this together. I don’t know if I can go through this alone.” Peter’s voice cracked and his face became redder as he obviously tried not to cry.

“Okay,” Tony nodded, his voice choked full of emotions, “okay. Together then. We’ll make it through this, Pete, we’ll be okay.”

Maybe the words weren’t all that believable to Tony, he can’t know how things turn out. He’s been proved wrong a hundred times over. But this time it feels right. Like he wasn’t taking the first steps into a bad decision. This time Tony has Peter and even May in his life now. He may not be great at being what Peter needs, he’s got so much trauma to work through and now a kid. 

Tony has people in his corner this time, and maybe now that’ll make things different. He has Peter and May and Pepper and Rhodey. They’ll help him get through this. His family will help him. Tony has a family. 

They’ll be okay.

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@peter-is-a-bean @friendshapedcastiel @dead-inside-pt2 @they-were-cloudsinmycoffee @parkersjiggle @7peternotparker7 @thatonecrackheadshipper @kevinthewoman @faline4you @lynxshinon @narutoyaoifan @pastelwheeler @thecrazymarvelfan @bonjour-gays @thebestqueenoftheworld

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#irondad #Irondad and Spiderson #spiderson #tony stark #tony stark has a heart #peter parker #tony and peter #bio dad tony stark #bio dad tony #marvel #marvel cinematic universe #mcu #ironman #spiderman

[pandawritespoorly]

With Time: Chapter 30 - Needlework

Author’s Note: For those of you truly worried, I'd like to point out that the warning at the top remains 'no archive warnings apply'. This is probably sort of anti-climatic to who-knows-what you guys were imagining.

Woo! Chapter thirty! This is crazy to me, especially since I'm nearing the end where I'm at. I've also posted over 100,000 words of this, so that's exciting! (I think that was last update or the one before, but I didn't notice).

Anyways, enjoy some angst featuring children with too much pressure on them.

Akuma slide here.

Chapter Summary: Ladybug goes down during a battle and Adrien can’t find a pulse.

First | Previous | Next

“I’m so glad you agree with me. I really think Adrien has changed, and it’s not for the better.” Lila says tearfully.

“Oh, girl. It’s okay. We’ll do something.” Alya hugs her close.

“Yeah, my bro’ll come around eventually. He loves you.” Nino consoles.

“It’s just… I think he’s been spending time with Ma- her.” she stumbles, avoiding the name even all these months later, “I don’t want to lose him to her too…” she adds, quietly, as though it’s just an afterthought.

“Adrien’s better than Ladybug! He’d never abandon you for a liar like Marinette. If he does, you’ll still have us! I still have some choice words for him…”

“Yeah, total bummer Marinette took him away.”

“Oh.” Lila interrupts, “That might be why he’s acting so strangely recently. He’s absolutely terrified of her. Now, I’m telling you this in confidence so you can’t tell anyone else this, alright?”

The other two nod.

“Marinette threatens him. I already told you some of this, but she’s made a deal with Mr. Agreste. He gets a designer to run the company, and she gets to marry Adrien. That’s why we have to keep our relationship so secretive. If anyone found out, the consequences would be terrible! The only reason Mr. Agreste agreed to work with as awful a designer as her is because all the others would never agree to such a deal, especially since they’re all so close to me.” “That’s despicable! I can’t believe it!” Alya gasps, then scowls, “Actually, I can. That’s definitely a thing Malicious-nette would do. You’re so brave and strong for persevering through this!” “Don’t worry dudette, I’m sure something can be done.”

“Thank you so much.” Lila sighs, smiling weakly, “It’s such a relief to know that you guys have my back. I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

Lila truly is happy, because a plan is forming in her head.

---

It’s late February and Ladybug really wishes that winter would hurry up and end. She’s tired of being tired. She’d been resting at home when there had been an akuma alert. Now she had to deal with whatever it is this time.

Type 3 too, so there’s lots of dodging. She’s bad at dodging and things flying at her face scare her. Especially when she’s tired like this. 

It’s very hard for her to convince herself to drag herself out of bed when she knows it involves magical projectiles being thrown at her.

At least she’s got Chat Noir, he’s her favorite person. He’s so nice, and he didn’t think she was an abominable disappointment like she was preparing herself for.

He hugged her a lot. That was nice.

He’s really warm too, and he visits her a lot, and-

She’s still thinking about how much she loves him when she finally sees him.

“Hey Bugaboo, how-” He’s cut off when she throws herself at him, hugging him tightly, he looks down at her seeing that she’s smiling and he joins, “Just a hug kind of day today? I can live with that.”

“I love you and you’re really nice and you’re really warm and you’re-” she’s mumbling into him, but he hears enough to get the gist of it.

“Same goes to you, my love.”

The delighted smile she gives him makes his week.

“As much as I hate to interrupt you hugging me, we can’t just leave Paris to fend for herself.”

Despite (or maybe because of) his warmth, she seems reluctant to be let go, only hugging him more. She finally accepts reality and steps back.

At the very least, she seems to have woken up more, “Dumb Hawkmoth.”

“How about we try to get this akuma over with quickly so you can go back to sleeping.”

“Do you know anything about it?”

“Nope, sorry Bugaboo.”

She sighs, and they head in the direction of the akuma. They know they’re on the right track when they see buildings that appear to have been turned into a messy patchwork of various fabric scraps.

There’s civilians wrapped up in thread, while some appear to have had their clothing changed in a similar manner to the buildings.

The duo spots the akuma eventually, a cloaked figure floating around on a giant red button. The cloak is a mis-matched jumble of various fabric scraps and threads.

She spots them, “Ladybug, Chat Noir! I am Needlework! Hand over your miraculous!”

“Not happening.” Ladybug hollers.

The battle proceeds as usual from there. They adjust to her attacks and avoid them. She raises one hand and thread shoots out, anything that makes contact with it is changed as they saw earlier. People have a chance of either being wrapped up or just having their outfit changed.

As the heroes slip into the rhythm of the fight, they can’t help but notice that one of Needlework’s arms stays hidden beneath her cloak the whole time. In the ten or so minutes they’ve been fighting her, they haven’t seen her use it once.

Ladybug is starting to get tired by this point. Being out and about is one thing, but pretending to be at her usual energy level is even worse - especially during akuma attacks. She’s about to call over to Chat and suggest they back off momentarily to strategize when the akuma finally raises her hidden arm.

It’s sudden, but she raises her arm and throws out a giant needle, it misses Ladybug’s face by a mere centimeter and she can feel it poke a pigtail before it’s pulled back by the attached thread.

Ladybug stiffened the moment it came at her. She feels it breeze by her face, and with it being winter, her ladybug instincts are at the forefront. They take over, and she doesn’t even register what’s happening as she collapses.

Chat Noir just about has a heart attack. He could have sworn that the needle didn’t touch her, but something must have happened because she’s down.

Maybe it had to do with the needle attack? They hadn’t seen it before, so there’s no telling what it does.

It doesn’t help that his instincts are screaming at him that she’s in danger.

He crosses the roofs to her quickly, and his stress isn’t helped by the fact that she’s still on the ground, her legs pulled to her chest.

“Ladybug?” He calls to her gently.

She doesn’t respond, but Needlework is approaching, so he scoops her up to carry her somewhere safer.

He ends up back in his room, and sets her on the couch gently. She hasn’t moved yet and he really doesn’t like that. After a moment of panic, he figures it wouldn’t hurt to do the basics.

He checks her pulse, and her breathing-

He can’t find her pulse.

What happened? Is she dead? She must be dead, no no no no-

His ring beeps and he doesn’t even register it.

“Adrien, calm down. She’s fine-”

“Plagg she’s dead, she’s dead, oh she’s dead-” he wasn’t prepared for this.

“Kid, breathe, you need to calm down. You’re hyperventilating-” “Calm down-?!”

“Listen to me, she’s not dead. Take a moment to breathe and check her pulse again. If I’d realized this was coming I’d have warned you.” Plagg is resting above her heart, watching Adrien carefully.

He nods tearfully, doing as he’s told. Shaking his head, he turns to Plagg to protest, but the Kwami holds up a paw, “Give it a moment kid. You’re too stressed for this.”

Adrien waits some more, holding her wrist delicately.

There.

Plagg is right, Ladybug has a pulse.

Very faint.

Concerningly faint. 

But a pulse nonetheless.

Adrien exhales in relief, resting his head against her and gripping her hand tightly.

“Plagg, what happened?”

“She’s playing dead. Bugs don’t usually start doing this for another few months, but I guess she’s been through enough stress to be a little early.”

“How long will she do this?” Adrien hasn’t moved yet, still calming himself down.

“It can vary, it’s her first time so it’ll be shorter, but as soon as she feels the danger has passed she’ll wake up and return to normal. ‘Course, she’s unconscious, so her earrings decide when it’s safe.” “How do they do that?”

“With the ring. She won’t wake up if you’re not close. If the holder of the ring is stressed or feeling unsafe, she won’t wake up. Basically kid, stay calm and stay close.”

“So she’s fine.” “She’ll wake up any moment and won’t even know what happened. She’ll be a little scared obviously because that’s what led to this, but yeah, she’s fine.”

“Wait-” Adrien looks to Plagg, slightly panicked, “What if something happened when I wasn’t around? Would she just stay like this until I happened to find her?”

“Kid, you’ll always know. Doesn’t matter how far, a Cat will always know when their Ladybug needs them, and vice-versa. Follow your gut.” “Okay.” Adrien sighs, finally moving, “Okay. Okay.”

He picks her up gently, sitting on the couch and holding her in his lap. It’s easier to stay calm now that he knows what’s going on.

“So how often is this going to happen?” Adrien doesn’t look at Plagg, only watching his Lady.

“Depends,” Plagg has retrieved some camembert, tossing it up and swallowing it in one gulp, “Your Bug can be a little skittish. There’s really no way to predict it. When she’s scared, - or more when she feels in danger - it’ll happen. If she’s already excessively stressed, or her tendencies are prominent then it’ll probably be more likely.”

“Alright.”

After another minute passes, the girl in his arms startles awake, bolting upright and gasping, looking around in confusion, “Cha- wait what? What happened?”

Adrien hugs her tightly, comforted by the fact that her heart rate is back to normal - if maybe a little quicker from her panic and residual fear.

“Shh. It’s okay.”

“But- what- why- how did we get-?” she’s still panicky, breathing quickly.

“I’ll explain in a moment, but just take a minute to calm down. Everything’s fine.”

She nods, “Right. Right.” she hugs him back, murmuring, “You’re here, so… right.”

After a moment, he turns her to him, taking a moment to appreciate her eyes - alert and alive, “I thought you’d died. Mon Dieu.”

“Died?! Adrien, what happened?”

“You played dead, girly. That’s what ladybugs do.” Plagg tells her.

“But I’m not a real ladybug! I’m a human. People don’t play dead!” she protests, glancing between Adrien and his Kwami.

“Humans don’t hibernate either. It’s just another side-effect.” Plaggs shrugs, eating more cheese, “I don’t see why you’re all tied in knots about this.”

“Because! I scared Adrien!” She's not supposed to scare him, she’s supposed to be a hero, heroes don’t faint because they get startled.

“It’s okay Mari, you’re fine now.” Adrien interrupts.

“No it’s not!” Ladybug tears up, “I worried you! You don’t deserve that!” she puts her hand to his face, looking at him carefully.

“It’s not your fault, don’t beat yourself up about this. At least we know now.”

He’s so nice, and understanding. She doesn’t deserve this. He should be mad, she keeps messing up as a hero. She worried him - in the middle of an akuma attack no less. 

The tears fall silently. When would she stop messing everything up?

Her earrings beep. Tikki flies out to leave them be as she goes to Plagg.

“Oh, little lady, what’s wrong?” he wipes the tears off tenderly.

“I keep messing things up. You don’t deserve that. I’m sorry.”

“Princess…”

“I’m sorry.”

“No. Don’t apologize. It’s okay. None of this is your fault. You can’t help that you’re a Bug, and I can’t help that I’m a Cat.”

“I scared you! You thought I died!” She hates to think what must have been going through his mind.

“I know now. It won’t happen again. Shh.” 

“But it might-”

“But if it does, I know what’s happening. It’s okay, believe me.”

“Okay.” She hugs him, because out of the two, she thinks he needs the comfort more.

He doesn’t necessarily disagree, but he thinks they both need a moment of rest. Squeezing her closer to him lightly, he purrs softly. Both to relieve his stress and hers.

They break apart, moment of reprieve over.

They’ve got a job to do.

Transforming, Ladybug and Chat Noir exit the room together, following the trail of fabric buildings back to Needlework.

“I’m willing to bet that her needle is the akumatized object.” Ladybug nods, “That’s probably why she hides it so much.”

“What do you say we get this over with so that you can take a nap?” Chat suggests, glancing over at her.

“Mhm!” she raises an arm, “Lucky Charm!”

A spotted pair of scissors fall into her waiting hands, and she looks around momentarily.

He loves the look on her face when she figures something out, and grins when it comes, ready for her plan.

“Alright, Chat I’m gonna’ need you to get her to throw the needle again.” “Will do, Buginette!”

She waits on the sideline for her chance.

It doesn’t take long. Needlework throws out the needle again, and Ladybug rushes forward to cut the thread. Needlework shrieks as the needle falls to the ground, flying after it.

Chat beats her to it, snapping it over his knee to release the butterfly.

“Gotcha!” Ladybug sends out her yo-yo, purifying the insect as usual. When it flies away, she flutters her fingers at it, “Bye bye little butterfly.”

“Pound it!”

She calls on her cure, throwing the scissors into the sky, releasing the little beetles to fix the city.

“I can talk to the victim, you go home to rest.” Chat offers.

She nods, doing as he says, sleeping the moment she detransforms on her pillow.

---

When Allegra, Allan, Claude, Felix and Adrien stop by later, she is awake again.

They’ve barely entered the room when she stops them.

“Mm! Nuh! Mm-memmh!” she flaps one of her hands at them, and they pause. Whatever she said is muffled by the hand she’s holding in her mouth.

“What was that?” Claude asks.

She removes her hand, “Careful, I dropped a pin… or three.” she turns back to the desk where she has laid out fabric, and avoiding the scissors haphazardly open on the floor.

“Got ‘em.” Adrien’s eyes are better than hers, and he picks them up to return them to the pincushion.

Marinette puts the side of her thumb back in her mouth, bending to the put her scissors back on the table, “Mm hm.”

“Marinette, we cannot understand you if you insist on sucking on your hand.” Felix chides.

“Why are you doing that?” Allan questions.

“M hm mm hmm.” she pauses, removing the hand to clarify, “I cut my hand, that’s all”

“Marinette! Were ya’ planning on doing somethin’ about it?” Allan goes to her side, looking at her hand carefully.

“I do it all the time. I can get back to work once it stops bleeding. I can just measure for now…” She mutters flippantly, looking at her dress form, as if trying to picture her design.

“That’s not really what he meant. I think it’s time you take a break.” Allegra grabs her by the shoulders and spins her around to the trapdoor. The others follow.

Once they’re all seated in the kitchen, Adrien helps Allan find the first aid kit, and they patch the girl up.

“There.” Allan steps back once he’s finally satisfied that Marinette’s cut has been treated properly.

“As great as it is to see you up and about, maybe next time be more careful with the scissors.” Claude rests their hand on Marinette’s head.

“I was tired!” she protests, “I don’t normally cut myself that badly.”

“Then sleep. How often do you get yourself with those scissors anyways?” Allegra asks.

She shrugs, then flops onto the table, “Late winter sucksss. Even when I’m awake, I feel tired, but not tired enough to just sleep until it’s over.”

“You’ll last until spring.” Adrien comforts her, patting her arm consolingly.

“I like spring!” Marinette pops up again, smiling.

“Me too!” Claude cheers.

Adrien suddenly realizes what spring means to Marinette. Occasionally things hit him like that - he’s still catching up to combining Ladybug and Marinette in his mind. Not that he can’t accept that they’re the same, just that sometimes he forgets that things that once applied to only one of them now applies to both.

Ladybugs like spring. He saw that firsthand last year with his partner.

Her new friends will certainly be taken aback by how fast Marinette goes from slow and sleepy to hyper and happy.

He grins, this year he can see it first hand in and out of the mask.

“Oh boy,” he says quietly, grinning. He’s not entirely sure any of them will be ready for this.

“What?” Allegra turns to him.

He just shakes his head, “I forgot… just, you’ll see when spring comes.” There’s no need to ruin the surprise.

“Okay…?”

Claude has produced a card game from who-knows-where and is already dealing cards to his friends, so everyone takes a seat.

By the end of the third game, Marinette is slumped against Allan, completely out.

No one comments, leaving her be. Felix stands to retrieve a blanket from the couch to put over her and they keep playing.

---

Author’s Note: That chapter felt short.

Yay! Marinette lives! A new tendency to deal with though.

Akuma slide here.

That whole sewing scene required testing because I can't just be normal and make up sounds. I recorded myself trying to say the words while my hand was in my mouth and had both myself and my friend try to translate it into letters. Kudos to her for putting up with my nonsense.

Ooh, next chapter is notable in at least one Wayzz. (•‿<)

Thanks for reading! Feel free to leave any thoughts, theories, constructive criticism, or anything really in my ask box, in replies or through reblogs. I love seeing what you think!

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#miraculous ladybug #with time #fanfic #miraculous tendencies #miraculous side effects #winter #marinette dupain cheng #adrien agreste #plagg #chat noir #ladybug #quantic kids #ml Felix #allan #allegra #Claude #original akuma #akuma attack

[odderancyart]

Retribution

Chapter 3

First

Last

Next

AO3

Summary: A late night, after yet another unfruitful day with no work, Detective Edge Serif receives a phonecall from the countryside. There seems to have been a murder.

Warnings: Murder, Violence, Swearing, Past Abuse

Chapter word count: 3429

Blue twitches. It’s almost unnoticeable, but Edge is used to look for the most minor changes in body language. He tilts his head, twirling the pen in his hand. The clock standing in one of the bookcases ticks on, uncaring about its owner’s reaction.

“No,” Blue then says firmly. “Never.”

Edge hums and nods. For now, he was going to take Blue’s word for it. He wasn’t a police officer; he could be dismissed if he overstepped his boundaries, and he needed to figure out where those were before he could start investigating for real. Even if the other’s reaction was countering his words. “I am glad to hear that,” he replies, leaning forward. “And no one else either?”

“No.” That ended that discussion. Curious.

Crossing his legs, Edge nods again. Scratches a few words down in his notebook as he considers his next questions. “What did you think of your employer, Mr. Fontaine?”

Blue hesitates, but then he sighs. After a short moment, he pulls open a drawer, fishing out a cigarette. He glances at Edge, but when Edge shakes his head – no, he doesn’t mind – he quickly puts it between his teeth and lights it before inhaling deeply. The smoke trails from his mouth as he breathes out again. Well. That’s telling about Doctor Gaster’s character, Edge would say.

Finally, Blue takes the cigarette into his hand, rolling it between his fingers. “Mr. Serif, we Fontaines have, as I said, served the Gasters for generations. We are raised into it. So you must forgive me if I have a hard time speaking ill of my former employer – it’s defying everything I have been taught. You will find my brother is the same, if you haven’t already.” Edge nods. He can understand that. Blue flashes him a faint smile. “Doctor Gaster wasn’t… the nicest person. A brilliant scientist – he got his doctorate at Oxford. And a great man. He took a year pause from his studies to help Britain in the Great War. Spent a full year abroad, much to his late mother’s despair. I was a child at the time, but I remember brewing Dame Gaster, may she rest in peace, calming tea before she dared open the letters he wrote her.”

Edge nodded again, although impatience began coiling within. This was good information to have – to a certain extent, he wasn’t very interested in Blue brewing tea – but would the other get to the point already? Blue wasn’t looking at him, instead staring at the cigarette between his fingers. “Yes, the Doctor did a lot of great things. But-” He paused. “But he wasn’t kind. He didn’t have the patience or time to deal with the woes of us servants, especially not when our staff was bigger. In all honesty, I don’t think he even noticed we were there, even as we were serving him, most of the time. Not unless we did mistakes, and so, inconvenienced him. I can’t blame him.” He breathes in the cigarette again, the corners of his mouth twisting upwards. “We’re here to make the family’s life easier, not to cause trouble.”

Being a servant sounds exhausting. Edge has never been happier that his mother had worked in a laundry factory rather than as a domestic servant. It paid less, but it gave freedom domestic servants didn’t have. And if she’d worked as a housemaid, then he likely would have gone into service as well, and he can’t think of anything he would’ve liked less. He’d rather have stayed at the steel mill and that had been literal hell.

Just melting into the background and living to please someone else- no fucking thank you. There was one reason he’d taken this economically unsafe job, and that was to be able to do whatever the fuck he pleased, rather than to live at someone else’s good graces, be it a master of the house, a factory owner, or God Himself. Edge isn’t a religious man, but once he dies and come face to face to God, he’d have a few choice words for Him. Unconsciously, he strokes his fingers over the vicious scar running along his wrist. He’d almost lost his hand that time. A just God wouldn’t let a fifteen-year-old get damaged for life in a factory.

Not that he minds any of his scars anymore. If nothing else, they serve to make him look intimidating.

He meets Blue’s eyes, twitches, and pulls his hand back into his lap. The other’s eyes shine with concern as he leans forward. Some of the smoke hits Edge’s face. “Does it hurt, sir? I can get a liniment if you need?”

“No, not at all.” He shakes his head, exhaling slowly to keep in an embarrassed flush. “Pardon, I got distracted for a moment. You were saying?”

Nodding, Blue leans back in his chair. “Did you need anything else?”

“Just two things. I’d like you to describe the motives everyone who was in the manor at the night of the murder may have had to commit it. Papyrus, Stretch, and Sir Razz. Anything you can think of. And where were you at the night of the murder?”

“Very well, sir.” Blue plucks the cigarette out of his mouth, extinguishing it on an empty silver plate in the corner of his desk. Some sort of fancy ashtray, Edge assumes when he leaves it lying there. “I was in here, doing the same thing as I am now: trying to sort out the Gasters’ assets. No, I do not have an alibi, as I was alone in here – Inspector Fuente already asked.  As for motives, Sir Razz’s is obvious: he has inherited money, Duskshire Manor, and all the Gasters’ property back in England, such as a forest in Cumbria. He was also never very fond of the idea of carrying children, which, obviously, was required of him as the spouse of the last member of the Gaster family. The ancient, honourable Gaster family is now extinct, and he has no husband to give him children.

My brother might’ve been fed up with the doctor’s sometimes ill treatment of us – he got the worst of it, no matter how I tried to protect him. And Papyrus- Well. He is friendly and sweet, but he never seemed to like the doctor much, even if he tried to hide it, as any servant with an ounce of wit would. Though it may have to do with the fact that on his very first day working for us, he witnessed Doctor Gaster thoroughly scold my brother in front of the guests who were over for tea. He’s foreign, did you know? I believe he came to England from Bulgaria during the war. You can’t hear it when he speaks, but his first language is not actually English.”

Oh? That was interesting information. He’d absolutely have to ask more about that, later. With a nod, he stands up. “Thank you for your time, Mr Fontaine. I really appreciate it.”

“No worries,” Blue replies, following suit. His chair scrapes against the floor as he moves out of it. “Oh, and do call me Blue, sir. There’s too many Mr Fontaines in this household, so me and my brother prefer to give that title to our father.”

Humming, he nods. “As you wish, Blue. If you wish, then, you may call me Edge. I’ll show myself out. I have some other people to talk to.”

“Thank you, sir,” Blue says. He shakes his head. “But I cannot. It wouldn’t be proper.”

Edge shrugs. “Whichever makes you comfortable.”

With another nod, he leaves.

…

Who to speak to now? Edge strolled through the hallways of the manor, still trying to figure out how to navigate the labyrinth of doors and staircases, as he heard a scratching. Raising an eyebrow, he quiets his steps as he follows the sound. He stops outside of a dark wooden door, pressing his ear against it. The scratching grows louder, and is that meowing?

Curious, he takes a step back, placing a hand on the doorknob. At first it doesn’t move, but as he puts more weight on it, the door slides open. His eyes widen as he stares down in front of him, on a small, grey cat, who stares back, obviously confused where its scratching wall had gone. The room is a mess: there’s an old couch full of claw marks, the yellow wallpaper is faded and scratched into pieces, and four cats lounge at different places in the room. It’s otherwise empty.

Suddenly, the cat seems to get over its confusion, and Edge can’t help but smile as it slowly blinks before stroking itself against his leg. Kneeling, he reaches out a hand for it to smell, and it immediately headbutts him. “You’re a trusting one, huh?” he murmurs, scratching its jaw. It purrs loudly.

There come quiet thumps as the other cats jumps down from the couch or the window in the back of the room and comes up to him. One of them, a tabby with scarred ears, stares at him suspiciously, but the others are eager to be petted.

His smile grows on his face as he strokes them, although he rocks on his feet. His legs start to ache from the position, and after glancing around to check no one’s around, he sits down on the floor, cross-legged. The grey cat takes the opportunity to lay down in his lap. Edge’s soul warms as it licks his hand. Truly a strange cat.

“Oh come on,” a voice comes from behind, and Edge twists his neck to see Stretch standing there, staring at the cats in exasperation. There’s an apology in his eyes as his gaze flickers up to Edge, but nonetheless he grips the feather-duster he’s holding tighter as he slowly approaches. The tabby cat retreats into the room, but the others don’t move a centimetre. “How did you get in again?”’

Unable to help it, Edge chuckles at the defeat in the other’s voice as he strokes the head of one of the cats. “I take it they don’t belong to you or Sir Razz?”

“God no.” The passion in his exclamation makes Edge raises an eyebrow. Stretch shakes his head, a crooked grin appearing on his face. “Sir Razz hates cats. And my brother isn’t a fan either. I don’t have much of an opinion on them, but Sir Razz can’t tolerate them. And yet these ones somehow keep finding their way into this room.”

Humming, Edge turns to look at the cats. They’re purring loudly, and the grey one has closed its eyes, breathing slowly. He’d almost think it had fallen asleep, hadn’t he known it was highly unlikely a cat would trust him that much that quickly. “How can anyone hate these darlings?” he mused. Cats were a gift to the world. He’d always wanted one, but it had never been the right time.

Stretch shrugged. “Don’t let them enter the rest of the house, si- Edge. Sir Razz would throw a fit.”

“Understood.” He paused before sweeping out with his hand. “If you aren’t extremely busy, and your suit won’t be destroyed, I’d like a chat with you about the murder, but it seems like a shame to wake her up.” He pointed at the grey cat.

Smiling in amusement, Stretch slides down next to him, waving away the cat who attempted to take a close look at him. Terrible, in Edge’s opinion. Not accepting a cat’s love ought to be a horrible crime. Sure, this was America, and everyone had the right to their opinion, or at least that’s what people liked to say and whether it was true or not could be debated, but those who didn’t adore cats were wrong.

“What do you want to know?”

“Where were you at the time of the murder?”

Stretch leaned up against the wall behind them in the narrow hallway, staring up at the ceiling. “I was cleaning the trophy room. Ever since Sir Razz dismissed the maids, you know, because of the crash, I am the one doing most of the lighter cleaning here. Both Blue and Papyrus assist sometimes but we all have our duties and our days are busy.”

Edge nods, pulling out his notebook again. He moves slowly, carefully, as to not bother the cat. It was a long time since he had the opportunity to get close to a cat and he didn’t want to waste it. He scribbles it down, his letters fluent and elegant. If there was one thing he’d excelled at back in school, it was handwriting. “Can anyone confirm that?”

“Blue makes the list of duties. As the butler, that’s my job, but he’s actually the one who keeps the household running. You can check it to see that I should’ve been doing exactly that. But no one was around, no.”

He writes that down as well. In the corner of his eye, he can see Stretch glance down on his notebook. It was leather-bound with black leather, quite elegant if Edge could say it himself. He’d bought it cheaply from a desperate book salesman. “And what did you think of Doctor Gaster, Stretch?”

Just like his brother had done before, Stretch flinches almost unnoticeably. His face stays carefully neutral, but a flicker in his eyes betrays him. “Doctor Gaster, as every Gaster, was brilliant. A great man.”

“That doesn’t answer my question, but very well. How did he treat you?” He watches extra carefully for the other’s reaction.

A sardonic smile lights up Stretch’s face. “You know to ask the right questions, don’t you?” Edge nods, not bothering to deny it. “Don’t tell my brother how disrespectful I am being, but the doctor was vile. Oh, I’ve seen worse, home in England. At the very least, he never… acted improperly against any member of the staff, for example. He would’ve seen it as quite tasteless. But he had zero patience for mistakes, however small they were, and I’ve been chewed out in front of London’s high society one too many times for serving the wrong kind of tea one too many times to mourn his death. It’s quite difficult to keep a polite front up when someone you grew up with, although the doctor was a couple years older, is telling you you’re useless in front of the Duke of Cambridge. But I manage. Pardon, managed.”

For a moment, Edge was stunned. How the fuck was he supposed to answer to that. Stretch met his eyes, the sardonic smile still on his face, as he let out a quiet chuckle. “Damn, I could use a cigarette. Those aren’t memories I particularly enjoy remembering.”

Without a word, Edge fishes up a cigar and his lighter from his other pocket, handing it to Stretch. He usually didn’t share, but sometimes you had to make sacrifices. Even if money was his least favourite sacrifice to make, and those cigars weren’t cheap. Because he was stupid enough to have standards. Stretch takes it with a grateful smile, flicking the lighter until a flame appeared. He slowly inhales, and the smoke rose toward the ceiling as he opens his mouth. Edge has never managed to figure out how the smoke didn’t escape through the other various holes in their skulls.

After trying to figure out what to say, and failing, he eventually decides to say nothing. It was none of his business anyway. “And what do you think the motives of Blue, Sir Razz, and Papyrus could be?”

Stretch gives similar answers as Blue on Sir Razz and Papyrus, before falling quiet for a while as he reaches his brother’s turn, staring out the window in the cat room. Eventually, he sighs.

“I suppose Blue could’ve done it to protect Sir Razz? Doctor Gaster wouldn’t have been as tasteless as being violent against his husband – in fact, he believed violence was ‘the way of brutes’, as he enjoyed saying – but he did have… expectations. For one, Sir Razz would’ve had to carry his heirs one day, even though he managed to put it off until the very end. It was made clear long before the wedding. Aristocrats need heirs, of course. And his harsh criticism wasn’t only for the staff. It’s not my place to tell, and Blue would kill me if he knew, but I once heard him say Sir Razz was being ‘wasteful and acting idiotic and shallow’ for throwing parties.”

Wow. Edge likes the murderée less and less with every word he hears about him. Stretch turned to him, holding his gaze. The smile was completely gone as he stared at Edge. “But my brother would never, I need you to understand that, sir. You’ll never meet someone as loyal as Blue, and he is so proud of our generations at the Gasters’ service. He’d die before he’d hurt anyone bearing that name.”

Honestly, that had been the impression Edge got as well. But he had the motive, and he will never disqualify anyone from the list of suspects without a very good reason. Nonetheless, he nods, and Stretch relaxes, puffing on the cigar. “Any other questions?”

“No,” Edge says, flipping the notebook closed. It closes with a satisfying thump. Leaning back against the wall as well, he scratches the grey cat’s side, and it leans into his touch. “Not at the moment.”

…

Two hours later, after spending some more time in silence with Stretch and the cats, and then taking another look at the body – with no new results – Edge finds himself watching in confusion as Stretch, carrying a tea tray, looks out the window toward the gate, yelps, and hurries away. A car slowly makes its way through the garden, toward the entrance door, and within moments, Stretch returns with Blue in his trails. Stretch takes position by the door as Blue stands nearby, almost in attention.

Edge lingers by the corner, uncertain about what the hell is going on. The car stops just outside the door – a black Mercedes-Benz, he realizes, staring in awe, and the latest model too – and someone steps out, but their coat collar and hat hides their face, protecting against the wind he can hear whining outside, tearing at the bare trees. The stranger steps up the few stairs leading to the door, and Stretch immediately opens the door, letting whoever it is inside.

Then, before the stranger can utter a word, he slides their elegant overcoat off them, and offers to take his hat, which he is given. Edge blinks as he realizes it’s yet another skeleton, this time wearing a casual suit of the very latest fashion. Their eyelights are dark orange, and a gold tooth glimmers in the light of the chandelier.

“Mr Ashton,” Blue greets, bowing his head. His hands are neatly clasped behind his back. “A pleasure to have you back.”

The skeleton – Mr Ashton, apparently – nods, their gaze sweeping over the room. “Where’s my brother, Blue?”

Just as Blue opens his mouth to reply, and Stretch starts to retreat into the closet, high heels click against the floor, and Sir Razz rounds the corner, and stops in his tracks. His eyes widen. “Slim. When did you get back from Europe?”

With a few, long strides, Mr Ashton faces Sir Razz, smiling faintly. “Three AM. I cut the trip short when I heard the news.”

“What happened with your tooth?”

Mr Ashton chuckles, raising a finger to the golden tooth. “Bar fight. You know me, ever the disappointment. I do wonder what Mother will say. Personally, I think it’s quite charming.”

At first, Sir Razz frowns, but as quick as a change of weather in spring, his expression turns into a beam and he embraces the taller. Mr Ashton bows down, hugging him back.  A tear slides down Sir Razz’s cheek. “I missed you.”

“I missed you too, bro.”

Once they part, Sir Razz takes a step back, looking straight at Edge. Straightening his back, he steps out from his little hiding place, and Sir Razz gestures between him and the visitor. “Detective Serif, meet my brother, Mr Slim Ashton. Slim, this is the private detective I hired. Detective Edge Serif.”

“A pleasure, sir,” Edge greets politely, stepping up to them and offering his hand.

Mr Ashton takes it, squeezing his hand hard. It takes all Edge’s strength of will to keep a straight face as the other regards him. He squeezes back, and the corner of Mr Ashton’s mouth twists upwards. “Same to you, Detective.”

#noir detective #underfell #swapfell #underswap #undertale #uf papyrus #uf sans #sf sans #us sans #us papyrus #sf papyrus #ut papyrus #my writing #mystery #murder #violence

[heydisneyhiremeplease]

Warning: Sad story ahead. You don’t have to read it. I just needed to type it.

Do you ever start thinking about how innocent things have to suffer? Like how babies get cancer? Or puppies get hit by cars? Sometimes I do. Thankfully it usually doesn’t happen until after the rest of my family has gone to bed. It upsets me so much, and I just sit there and cry and cry until I can’t anymore. There’s no way for me to stop them from hurting, or fix what has happened to them. Sometimes I cry because I wish I didn’t know so many sad things. I wish I was little again, and I hadn’t seen things like this happen yet.

A few weeks ago I was driving home from work and a squirrel ran out into the road. She turned around so I didn’t hit her, but I saw what looked like tiny little hands reaching up just as she ran away. I almost didn’t believe it, but I found a place to pull over so that I could double check what I thought I saw. It was two baby squirrels, so little that they didn’t even have a lot of fur on them yet. They were laying in the road, beneath a huge, very tall tree whose branches hung out over the street. They must have fallen from their nest, or so I assume. Their mother had come down to get them. She wouldn’t have been able to help, not really. She couldn’t have carried them all the way back up. Even then, they still would have passed away. There was blood. I will not describe in any more detail than that, but know that there was some.

One of them laid still, but it was breathing. The other squirmed and cried a bit. I immediately called my dad and told him to come find me. I wasn’t far from my house. The little squirrel that had been laying still began to squeak and cry, calling for its mother, I suppose. The squirmy one even tried to stand. I don’t think it had been old enough to be able to stand even before the fall, but it sure did try. They wanted to live so bad.

I had hoped we could take them to the local vet, but I live in a small town and there really isn’t a place that’s equipped to treat animals other than cats, dogs, or horses here. Besides, they were so badly injured that it likely wouldn’t have mattered where we took them. My dad and my brother showed up with a box. I was still hopeful we could do something for them, but some part of me also realized there was nothing to be done.

My dad picked them up off the ground (I hadn’t wanted to hurt them worse than they were, so I left them until he arrived). They stopped crying as he held them. I hope they understood somehow that we wanted to help, that we were being kind. I suppose that’s a lot to ask of an injured baby squirrel. They both fit in one of his hands together. We looked at them for a moment, and then my dad said for me to go on home. I did.

I can’t stop thinking about them. It’s not an all-consuming thing, like I can’t think of anything other than them. But it just kinda pops into my mind at random moments and I feel bad. I remember those few minutes with them so well: how they looked, how they sounded. They were just babies. They cried for their mother and tried to get up so they could find her. The will to live is so strong, even for infants. I remember standing in the road, making sure that no cars came up and hit them. It wasn’t that dangerous for me. The street I’m talking about isn’t that busy most of the time. It’s not a main road in town. I talked to them. I told them that I was there, that my dad was coming, that we wanted to take care of them. I did it more for me than them. Obviously it did nothing for them.

In the end, they were just two little squirrels. My town is full of squirrels. During certain times of the year, it’s common to see 10 or so in someone’s front yard, looking for things to eat. I know that the world’s population of squirrels has not suffered at the loss of these two individuals. But it was just so sad. They were tiny. They were innocent. They didn’t understand what had happened to them, or that they would never see their nest or their mother again. All they knew was that something was wrong. They were hurt. They were in unfamiliar surroundings. They were suddenly unsafe. And I guess that’s what really hurts me the most. The squirrels’ suffering has long ended. Mine hasn’t. I want to go back and hold them again. I want them to be okay. I want them to know that I cared about them, and I was sorry. All that would be for my benefit. Squirrels don’t understand such complex feelings as human sorrow. Or hope. Or disappointment.

Maybe in another month I’ll quit thinking about them. Nothing good can come of it. All I’m doing is making myself sick with all the crying. It’s just hard. I just hate when innocent things suffer, because they don’t understand what’s going on. If I get hurt, or I get sick, I can go to the doctor and understand that I have a broken bone or the flu. But a baby? Or a puppy? Or any other creature that doesn’t get it? All they know is that they feel pain. All they know is that they want it to stop. All I know is that I can’t stop it for them.

#my thoughts #sad

[erudit0]

1-150 pussy you won't

I FUCKING WILL (im so sorry followers)

1. Who was the last person you held hands with?

Meagan

2. Are you outgoing or shy?

I’m pretty outgoing

3. Who are you looking forward to seeing?

Family again

4. Are you easy to get along with?

Depends if you have the same sense of humor as me. If we don’t, I can come off a bit strong. If we do, we’ll be just fine.

5. If you were drunk would the person you like take care of you?

Lmao no

6. What kind of people are you attracted to?

My type seems to be “can kill me with their pinky and has colorful hair”

7. Do you think you’ll be in a relationship two months from now?

Who knows? Gotta stay positive :)

8. Who from the opposite gender is on your mind?

My friend Mandy :P

9. Does talking about sex make you uncomfortable?

Not even a little

10. Who was the last person you had a deep conversation with?

Probably Royce over at @hero-of-pixels​

11. What does the most recent text that you sent say?

“fIGHT ME”

12. What are your 5 favorite songs right now?

The Dirt Whispered by Rise Against

R U Mine? by Arctic Monkeys

Looking Too Closely by Fink

Pedal to the Metal by Lazerhawk

Royals by Lorde (its old but fight me)

13. Do you like it when people play with your hair?

yES

14. Do you believe in luck and miracles?

I believe that sometimes rare things happen for no particular reason at all.

15. What good thing happened this summer?

I moved to Edmonton!

16. Would you kiss the last person you kissed again?

Ye!

17. Do you think there is life on other planets?

I hold the popular belief that our known realm is so unfathomably big that to presume that no other instance of creation could result in life other than our own is unlikely and unreasonable.

18. Do you still talk to your first crush?

HELL NAH we’re nothing a like I only liked her bc she was quirky

19. Do you like bubble baths?

Hell yeah, I need to take more of those.

20. Do you like your neighbors?

The guy in the room next to me sings opera after 11 pm which was funny for the first week but not it really sucks.

21. What are you bad habits?

Biting my nails, coping in unhealthy ways, blaming myself for other people being dumb.

22. Where would you like to travel?

Europe, just all of it.

23. Do you have trust issues?

Yeye

24. Favorite part of your daily routine?

Getting home :P

25. What part of your body are you most uncomfortable with?

Chest

26. What do you do when you wake up?

Take meds and get ready for class.

27. Do you wish your skin was lighter or darker?

In the summer I get tanned to the same tone my dad is and I like the colour because it allows me to actually have people believe me when I tell them that I’m very native (which I am).

28. Who are you most comfortable around?

I really don’t know anymore, sorry.

29. Have any of your ex’s told you they regret breaking up?

Literally not one, not once.

30. Do you ever want to get married?

Dude getting married would be so rad like being bound to someone you love n shit? Rad.

31. Is your hair long enough for a pony tail?

Nah

32. Which celebrities would you have a threesome with?

Eliza Taylor and Emma Stone probs.

33. Spell your name with your chin.

your name with your chin

also

ol8iuvfc

34. Do you play sports? What sports?

I play competitive dodgeball.

35. Would you rather live without TV or music?

TV easily

36. Have you ever liked someone and never told them?

ALL the time honestly.

37. What do you say during awkward silences?

I’ll either say something weird to draw attention like “how many times would a dude have to fuck a soup for it to become a chowder” or say something obviously awkward like “so.....nice weather huh?”

38. Describe your dream girl/guy?

I like short girls, colorful hair, with a sharp wit and probably ten times smarter than me. A good sense of humor goes a long way. 

39. What are your favorite stores to shop in?

Steam, Amazon, and DMV

40. What do you want to do after high school?

I am attending University

41. Do you believe everyone deserves a second chance?

I believe if they have earned it and genuinely want change.

42. If you’re being extremely quiet what does it mean?

I am either very distressed or very uncomfortable.

43. Do you smile at strangers?

I do!

44. Trip to outer space or bottom of the ocean?

Launch me into space. I don’t even need a space suit just fucken do it.

45. What makes you get out of bed in the morning?

Dedication and motivation to improve myself.

46. What are you paranoid about?

Being out of the loop or different.

47. Have you ever been high?

Yep

48. Have you ever been drunk?

Yep

49. Have you done anything recently that you hope nobody finds out about?

Not particularly

50. What was the colour of the last hoodie you wore?

Navy blue :P

51. Ever wished you were someone else?

I did, and do here and there.

52. One thing you wish you could change about yourself?

Appearance.

53. Favourite makeup brand?

I don’t use enough to give an opinion.

54. Favourite store?

I could spend hours in a boardgame cafe.

55. Favourite blog?

erudit0.tumblr.com

56. Favourite colour?

BLUUUUE

57. Favourite food?

I would sell my body for a good stir fry.

58. Last thing you ate?

French fries

59. First thing you ate this morning?

Subway

60. Ever won a competition? For what?

We won a dodgeball tournament earlier in the year.

61. Been suspended/expelled? For what?

I called my religion teacher in my christian school a creepy racist sexist homophobic pig.

62. Been arrested? For what?

A friend of mine was in an ambulance and I covered for him for police (EMTs knew everything though)

63. Ever been in love?

I think so.

64. Tell us the story of your first kiss?

We were drunk and she was hot.

65. Are you hungry right now?

I’m currently eating, but yes.

66. Do you like your tumblr friends more than your real friends?

I don’t really have any tumblr friends, but a couple people on here are super cool :)

67. Facebook or Twitter?

Twitter

68. Twitter or Tumblr?

Tumblr

69. Are you watching tv right now?

Nope

70. Names of your bestfriends?

Royce, Mandy, Alice, and Max

71. Craving something? What?

Attention and validation, also stir fry.

72. What colour are your towels?

Gray

72. How many pillows do you sleep with?

Two

73. Do you sleep with stuffed animals?

I have a distinct lack of stuffed animals.

74. How many stuffed animals do you think you have?

Like one.

75. Favourite animal?

I’m a fan of Owls.

76. What colour is your underwear?

Gray

77. Chocolate or Vanilla?

Vanilla

78. Favourite ice cream flavour?

Oreo

79. What colour shirt are you wearing?

Blue

80. What colour pants?

Blue jeans

81. Favourite tv show?

I’m really liking Brooklyn Nine-Nine

82. Favourite movie?

I really like Inception, Serenity, Rogue One, and The Grand Budapest Hotel

83. Mean Girls or Mean Girls 2?

Never seen either

84. Mean Girls or 21 Jump Street?

I’ve only seen 21 Jump Street

85. Favourite character from Mean Girls?

The mom is Amy Poehler so that’s cool

86. Favourite character from Finding Nemo?

CRUSH

87. First person you talked to today?

Alice

88. Last person you talked to today?

You, anon.

89. Name a person you hate?

Trump

90. Name a person you love?

My friends

91. Is there anyone you want to punch in the face right now?

A few, but I don’t resort to violence unless in self-defence

92. In a fight with someone?

Yeah.

93. How many sweatpants do you have?

A lot cause I love myself.

94. How many sweaters/hoodies do you have?

A lot cause I love myself

95. Last movie you watched?

Rogue One

96. Favourite actress?

I have a lot of respect for Ellen Page

97. Favourite actor?

Keanu Reeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeves

98. Do you tan a lot?

I naturally tan in the summer.

99. Have any pets?

I have a cat and a dog back home.

100. How are you feeling?

I’m holding up

101. Do you type fast?

Not as fast as I used to.

102. Do you regret anything from your past?

I try not to, but yes.

103. Can you spell well?

I like to think I can.

104. Do you miss anyone from your past?

See 102.

105. Ever been to a bonfire party?

Yep!

106. Ever broken someone’s heart?

Unfortunately I have

107. Have you ever been on a horse?

Hell yeah

108. What should you be doing?

Homework

109. Is something irritating you right now?

Ye

110. Have you ever liked someone so much it hurt?

YEP

111. Do you have trust issues?

You already asked this

112. Who was the last person you cried in front of?

Jon

113. What was your childhood nickname?

Toucey (pronounced Tukey)

114. Have you ever been out of your province/state?

Ye!

115. Do you play the Wii?

Not often

116. Are you listening to music right now?

I am!

117. Do you like chicken noodle soup?

There’s better soup

118. Do you like Chinese food?

Ye!

119. Favourite book?

The Hunger Games

120. Are you afraid of the dark?

I used to be but I’m good now.

121. Are you mean?

I can come off as mean but I honestly don’t intend to.

122. Is cheating ever okay?

Only if the cheater is in a situation that it would be unsafe for them to be upfront.

123. Can you keep white shoes clean?

Nah

124. Do you believe in love at first sight?

Nope, that would be lust

125. Do you believe in true love?

I do

126. Are you currently bored?

A bit, but I might go in the lounge to fix that.

127. What makes you happy?

Friends, creating, feeling accepted

128. Would you change your name?

Nope!

129. What your zodiac sign?

Gemini but like, but less than 2 hours from Cancer

130. Do you like subway?

Yes to both kinds.

131. Your bestfriend of the opposite sex likes you, what do you do?

That would literally never happen

132. Who’s the last person you had a deep conversation with?

Answered

133. Favourite lyrics right now?

“This one’s for the boys with the boomin’ system, top down AC with the coolin’ system”

134. Can you count to one million?

Probably? Never tried.

135. Dumbest lie you ever told?

I’m not high

136. Do you sleep with your doors open or closed?

Closed and locked

137. How tall are you?

6′2

138. Curly or Straight hair?

Curly :D

139. Brunette or Blonde?

Brunette

140. Summer or Winter?

Summer

141. Night or Day?

Night

142. Favourite month?

June

143. Are you a vegetarian?

Nope

144. Dark, milk or white chocolate?

White chocolate!

145. Tea or Coffee?

Coffee

146. Was today a good day?

It was alright

147. Mars or Snickers?

Snickers

148. What’s your favourite quote?

“ “Destiny guides our fortunes more favorably than we could have expected. Look there, Sancho Panza, my friend, and see those thirty or so wild giants, with whom I intend to do battle and kill each and all of them, so with their stolen booty we can begin to enrich ourselves. This is nobel, righteous warfare, for it is wonderfully useful to God to have such an evil race wiped from the face of the earth.""What giants?" Asked Sancho Panza."The ones you can see over there," answered his master, "with the huge arms, some of which are very nearly two leagues long.""Now look, your grace," said Sancho, "what you see over there aren't giants, but windmills, and what seems to be arms are just their sails, that go around in the wind and turn the millstone.""Obviously," replied Don Quijote, "you don't know much about adventures.” ― Miguel de Cervantes Saavedra, Don Quixote “

149. Do you believe in ghosts?

I’m not sure

150. Get the closest book next to you, open it to page 42, what’s the first line on that page?

“The announcement from the Ministry of Plenty ended on another trumpet call andgave way to tinny music. Parsons, stirred to vague enthusiasm by the bombardmentof figures, took his pipe out of his mouth.“

1984, George Orwell

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THERE YOU GO  

#long post #Anonymous