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harrypotter-imaginess · 3 years

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A/N: I loved doing this one guys, and I hope you love it too. Might do a part 2 not sure yet, as always commissions are still open until 3/10 message if your interested- price list is here

- Okay this is the ship guys this is it-

- This is like Hades and Persephone type of love

- Everyone thinks that Regulus is someone to be feared because of his family, and everyone knows they dabble in the dark arts

- And everyone is so caught up in his family-

- In the estate, and those dark rumors, and their dark magic-

- That no one see’s Regulus is just a boy-

- A lonely boy with no real friends, not really

- It’s worse now that Sirius has been disowned

- He’s got people around him, boys who’s parents are aquatinted with his

- But they don’t really like him

- They just hang around because they want a flicker of his power

- Of that ancient dark magic everyone’s convinced he’s got

- Everyone except you that is

- You’re this beautiful, cheerful, precious thing

- He meets you when you’re lost, looking for the bathroom

- “Sorry to bother, but do you know if it’s down the hall?” You ask, he’s seen you a few times; in class, or around the corridors

- Playing gobstones with your ever growing group of friends

- He would be jealous if he wasn’t so surprised that you’re speaking to him at all, aren’t you a muggle born?

- Shouldn’t you be afraid of him?

- Just like everyone else?

- “It’s in the next hallway, that one is moaning Myrtle’s bathroom” he says quietly

- He watches you nod enthusiastically

- Looks like you’ll be on your way now, probably for the best, he wouldn’t want his parents to know -

- “Would you mind showing me?” You ask

- And it’s awfully pushy, but somehow Regulus can’t turn down that bright smile of yours

- You talk to him so easily, like you’re not afraid of him at all

- And it irritates him a little.

- Honestly, even the professors are a little afraid of him

- Everyone is

- So why aren’t you

- “Do you-“ he stops in the middle of the corridor, and you walk a few steps forward before realizing he’s not beside you anymore

- “Do you know who I am?”

- You must not, that’s the only explanation

- When you find out you’ll go as pale as the moon, and afterward you will regale the tale for your many friends, how you barley escaped the fearsome Regulus Black, right before he was about to curse you with his dark magic.

- But you only offer a quizzical expression and a smile

- “You’re Regulus Black”

- You say it like it’s the most obvious thing in the world

- It only makes him upset, but he doesn’t know why

- In fact since the moment he met you there’s been this burning irritation lingering in the back of his mind, and he just can’t seem to pin point why

- But regardless of the reason, it seems to be boiling over right now, in an empty corridor in the middle of the night

- “Shouldn’t you be afraid? I could curse you right here if I wanted”

- But the smile on your face remains

- “Maybe, but you won’t” you muse

- He laughs

- “Why because you think I’m afraid getting expelled?”

- Honestly his parents would welcome him with a feast if he came home for attacking a muggle born

- It would be a sign he wasn’t going to become like Sirius after all

- Because that’s the worst thing a person could be according to his parents-

- A blood traitor

- But instead of quaking in your shoes you flash him a quizzical smile

- “Nah, I just don’t think you’re that kind of person” you shrug

- The words echo in his mind long after you’ve said them

- And though he’s looked at you before

- He’s only really looking at you now, the easy way your lips curl into a smile, the sparkle in your eye, the glow around you-

- Like you’re made of sunlight

- Like you breathe life into all things wherever you go

- Like an ancient witch he heard of , heralded as the goddess of spring

- Like Persephone

- Ah, so that’s it

- It’s not that he hates you

- It’s that he envies you

- Because seeing how natural it is to see you do good, makes him hope - it makes him yearn to be like that too

- To be more than an heir to his family’s dark legacy

- “I could be wrong though” you shrug, you can count on one hand how many times you’ve been right about something

- But still, you just don’t buy that the shy kid in front of you is some evil prodigy bent on destroying the world

- “No” Regulus’s voice cracks, and it’s soft, so soft you almost don’t hear it.

- But your turn to him, eyes jumping from one of the many paintings in the corridor to his pale face

- His eyes seem glossy as they look into yours, and it’s not just because of the light from the torches

- “No, I’m not that kind of person” he says with a bit more strength this time, and you grin

- And while you feel that there’s something important about the moment, you don’t realize the monumental significance this chance meeting holds for Regulus

- “Oh, we passed the washroom” he realizes after a moment, he was so caught up in talking to you he hadn’t realized

- “Ah, that’s okay I didn’t have to use the bathroom anyway” you say with a wave of your hand

- Huh?

- Noticing his expression you get a sheepish look on your face

- “Well I’ve wanted to talk to you for a while, but you’re always with people-“

- Yeah he’s sure his “friends” would give off an especially murderous aura if you ever tried to approach them

- “So when I saw an opportunity, I just took it” you admit with a slight laugh

- “I wanted to see what everyone was talking about when they mentioned the ‘Dark Prince’ “ there’s a teasing flint in your eye, and the nickname alone is enough to make him flush red

- “And what’s your assessment?” he manages to ask, a smile stretching across his face

- “Very underwhelming, I came expecting several hexes and a duel, and all I got was a cute boy with pretty eyes”

- This time he really does flush bright red, eyes trained on his shoes

- You laugh, you were mostly teasing

- But he is quite cute isn’t he?

- What’s everyone so scared of anyway? He’s like a shy kitten

- He watches you walk to a particular portrait, whispering a word before it swings open

- “Well see ya around Mr. Dark Prince” you say, sending a teasing wink his way

- Regulus is glowing red, even when he’s tucked in bed, in his common room hours after the meeting. the mere memory of the words you said send his heart racing again

- “They said I’m cute” he’ll recall with a goofy smile spreading across his face

- After that, things are brighter for Regulus

- You pull him into your group of friends, quite literally

- “I-I don’t think this is a good idea” he manages, catching the terrified glances of passerby’s as you tug him forward by his arm

- What a sight you must be, the literal personification of spring pulling the Dark Prince himself by the arm through the castle

- The aforementioned Dark Prince having a rosy tinge on his cheeks, which most of the other students misplace for Fury instead of what it actually is:

- Embarrassment with a healthy dash of attraction to aforementioned personification of spring

- “Nonsense, everyone’s dying to meet you Reg”

- When you use his nickname his flush darkens

- No ones ever called him that-

- No one except Sirius and Andromeda

- He likes the way it sounds coming from you

- And you’re right, your friends accept him into their fold immediately

- “You know any curses?” One of your friends asks, it’s in a jovial manner that anyone could tell they’re just teasing but Regulus flinches

- “No, not really” he admits, not any he’s good at anyway

- He did see his parents do something akin to a sacrifice when he was younger with an alter in the full moon, but he really wouldn’t know where to start with that

- “What about gobstones, you know the rules to that?”

- Regulus nods

- “Well lets play then!”

- Before he knows it, it’s like this was always his life

- Laughing with you in class, games of gobstones with your friends and trips to Hogsmeade on the weekend

- Regulus didn’t know that he was yearning for this

- How often had he wished for something like this,

- A place that feels like it’s full of sunshine, where everyone feels accepted, and no one has to feel sad

- This is the happiest Regulus has ever been

- But all dreams must come to an end

- The end of the semester comes around, and he has to go home for Christmas vacation

- You’re standing side by side on the train platform waiting for the train, your trunk lying next to you

- “You’re not taking anything back with you?” You ask

- Regulus shrugs

- “There’s no point, everything I need is at the manse”

- You’ve always been a bit curious about what the Black manor is like

- Probably something grand, large library’s, they probably have one of those record players with the gold horn thing

- And a ballroom

- It probably makes Hogwarts look like a pile of dirt

- But the way Regulus’ face darkens when you ask him about it tells you that- yes they probably do have a ballroom, but there’s other things too, things that are far less pleasant

- And when he starts talking about his home life, how it’s worse - lonelier- Now that Sirius is at the Potter’s all the time, and there’s no one around to stand between him and his parents

- He notices your heartbroken expression and rushes to comfort you

- “It’s not so bad, Mum’s got her tender moments every so often and-“

- “Regulus” you cut in, and the sound of his whole name leaving your mouth makes him stutter to a stop

- “You’re supposed to feel safe and loved all the time not just sometimes”

- It’s such a basic thing, but when Regulus hears this, he feels like he’s being allowed something

- He feels, for the first time, he’s allowed to be safe and happy

- He’s allowed to be good

- “Why don’t you come home with me for Christmas? It’s probably not as grand as you’re used to-“

- You fidget awkwardly, maybe it’s silly, the prince, Regulus Black, himself sitting on your worn sofa, holding yarn while one of your family member’s knits

- You can picture it though

- You can picture a big smile across his face, indulging the younger children in your extended family in their requests for piggyback rides and for him to participate in their games

- “I want to,” he says, really the fact that you’re offering is enough, more than he could ask for

- “But I can’t”

- And it’s the truth, after Sirius, he can’t make any mistakes, his family won’t stand for it

- He especially doesn’t want to think what would happen to you if they found out he had been spending all of his time with you, a muggle born

- He doesn’t want to think what curses they might inflict you with

- He doesn’t want you to ever be hurt because of him

- “You’ll write to me?” You say it with the fervor of a demand, and it makes a smile curl onto his mouth

- “Everyday” he promises

- And things are exactly as they always were at 12 Grimmauld Place, his mother is distant, only livening up when one of the other ladies shows up for tea

- His father is squirreled away in council meetings

- His cousins are no fun, not really, and Andromeda’s not around anymore since she ran off with Ted

- He likes Ted, though he would never admit it to his family

- Ted is a lot like you, someone with an infinite amount of kindness

- He wonders how they’re doing

- He wonders how Sirius is doing

- He’s probably happy, he always looked happy when he was with his friends

- And so- with a picture of you discreetly kept on his desk, he writes three sets of letters

- The first is for you, to assure you he’s fine, and live vicariously through your spring, through your lovely Christmas moments and imagine himself there too.

- The second for Andromeda, to ask if she’s doing alright, and to tell her he misses her

- And the last, is for Sirius

- Asking how he is, and hoping he’s well.

- And to say that he understands what Sirius was saying all those years, in their childhood and then into adolescence, Regulus understands now-

- And he wants to be good too

#harry potter #regulus black imagine #regulus x y/n #regulus black headcanon #regulus black x reader #harry potter imagine #harry potter headcanon #marauder headcanons #marauder imagine

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3arzal · 3 years

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sincerity is scary (part 1)

nathan mackinnon / reader

3,200+ words (for this part at least)

friends to lovers. this turned out angstier than i originally planned in my head um...

warning for swearing

author’s note: many months ago, i said i was done with writing, then i clowned myself. this is the first time i’m writing an x reader type of fic because i used to write kpop bg pairings so idk how decent this will be lol. anyway, this is a highly personal and self-indulgent fic and something i’ve wanted to write for a very long time. to all my fellow hopeless-romantic tomboys out there waiting for their turn in love, this one goes to you. i said i was content with reading fics because i’m too lazy to write but oh well fucking shit.

Your first memory including Nate was his fourth birthday party. It was a memory that makes you smile come a time that you think about it while spacing out. You remember it vaguely, but all the details don’t even matter. You remember sitting next to him at the big table as he blows his cake. There’s a picture of that somewhere in the photo albums in your parents’ house. You remember being the new kid in the neighbourhood, but you lived next to the MacKinnon’s. Even if Nate had a few friends from nursery, you eventually became his best friend. You were a shout away from him and all the details don’t matter, because until now that you’re both twenty five, you’re still the bestest of friends even if you lived in different American states--him in Colorado and you finally landing your dream job in New York City.

It was a special friendship that had been rock solid for twenty one years. You know he has a lot of people in his life now being the NHL superstar that he is. You know he considers some of the guys and some of his teammates as his best friends as well. All of that did not bother you to say the least. It was okay, because he was meant for great things and you were there to witness him achieve everything he longed and wished for since you were kids. You know you will always have a place in his heart, and him in yours, because that’s what best friends do, right? They’re each other’s biggest support system, away or together.

You were there in all of his home games, you spent almost all of your childhood with him in the rink, he gladly participated in any hobby you had at the time, and most of all, he made sure that if he had free time, it was all yours. You couldn’t ask for a better best friend and neither can he.

Now, as you sit in front of him in a hotel restaurant in the middle of Aspen at his birthday dinner on a trip he insisted you two take before the pre-season starts, you stare at him in part-shock-part-confusion as he lays his heart out on the table with a confession you did not see coming at all: “I guess I’ve been in love with you all this time.”

Now, see, you have always been Nate’s tomboy best friend. You were the girl who played hockey with him when you were kids and the girl who skateboarded all throughout middle school. You were the girl no guy has ever looked at like that, because you were different from all the pretty blondes and skinny girls and conventionally female specimen that boys would usually like. It didn’t bother you, not until high school anyway, when you finally crushed on some other guy that wasn’t in yours and Nate’s friend group. It was the biggest infatuation of your life so far, and when you realized he’ll never look at you like how he looks at the girls who wear skirts and tank tops, you gave up on even trying to feel.

“Are you seriously looking at skirts?” You remember Nate asking you one time you were both in the mall and he caught you lingering around skirts. You were both sixteen at the time, and he just got back from his morning hockey practice. You looked down on your usual oversized tee and baggy pants and your favorite pair of tattered Vans and thought, yeah, how can you even choose to wear a skirt willingly? It didn’t offend you or anything, his question was purely out of curiosity and not one of judgment.

You shrugged at him, “Don’t you think it’s about time I dress more girly? I’m turning seventeen soon, and I still haven’t had a boyfriend.”

“I dunno, you dress fine to me.” Nathan said then, and then it hit you--if Nate says you look fine then other people’s opinion shouldn’t even matter. He was your bestest friend, and you trust him because you have to. You should. But he’s still a guy, and you’re a teenage girl who’s becoming more self-conscious as the days go by because that’s how life goes when you’re sixteen and hormonal. You shrug it off, though, because looking pretty was the least of your concerns anyway.

The following year, you get asked out on a date by one of the guys you went to middle school with. He was decent, and you were consistently talking to him and hanging out the past summer. He made you laugh and he became such a charmer since you last met him when you were pre-pubescent kids. It was your first date ever, and a week before you were highly stressing out on what you should wear, on what you should do, because you were seventeen and had no experience being with someone other than, lo and behold, Nathan.

He was away from you now, doing his hockey thing and being great, but phone calls were still consistent between the two of you, and after stressing out for two whole hours trying to rummage the internet for Tips On How To Nail Your First Date, you finally give up and whine to him over the phone.

“Him? You’re going on a date with him? Wasn’t he like...a wimpy kid back then or something?” His voice is tired on the other line. His team lost tonight, and you know he’s frustrated about it, but he doesn’t really talk to you about it because he chooses not to. You’re going to change that soon because you know he’s too hard on himself when he loses. He knows you’re there to listen if he wants to whine, but for some reason he never talks about a loss with you anymore. Not like he used to back when you were younger and you still lived near each other.

“Nathan, be nice.” You rarely call him Nathan because to you he has always been Nate. It means you’re dead serious right now. You mess up your short hair and stare at all the possible clothing options you’ve laid out on your bed. It’s mostly t-shirts, the ones that are close to your actual size, and then you realized you have no jeans that actually fit because all of them are baggy ones.

“Wow, she’s calling me Nathan. Who’s that guy?” He calls from the other line. His speech is turning more slurry, like he’s already falling asleep but trying hard to fight it. “But seriously, why do you need to dress up, anyway? Your clothes are fine.”

“You’re not a girl, you wouldn’t understand.” You tell him in a moment of miniscule irritation--not with him, but with yourself, because it then hits you: you want to impress this guy. You want to appear different for him, because it’s your first ever date, and finally someone’s looking at you and making you feel pretty--like a girl. “Oh my god…” You croak after spacing out, and you jump a bit when you hear Nate through the speaker phone, forgetting that he’s still on the other line.

“What’s wrong?”

“Holy shit. I just realized I’m finally trying to get in touch with my girly side. Seventeen years too late for that.” You snort at how ridiculous you’re being, at how silly this whole situation is because you’ve never tried to change who you were before attraction came in the way. You realized you were turning into a woman without knowing it, and it’s not really bothersome because you are a woman. It’s just something different from what you’re used to growing up even if you were no stranger to it having an older sister who is undeniably more female than you. Nate didn’t have any problem that you have a vagina but can also beat up any guy who picks on you for being such a tomboy. Nate loved it when you played hockey with him even if he beat you every time. He loved watching you skate, cackles when you fall down, but gets concerned as he should when you get scrapes and bruises. He’s fine with what you are--with the way you dress, the way you project yourself to people, the way you’re not just any other girl. You’re his best friend and he loves you just as you are.

You remember that time at the mall last year when you were looking at those skirts, you remember what he told you back then, and then you remember why it doesn’t matter what you wear on a date. If any other people can’t handle you the way that you are then they don’t really have to matter to you, too.

The date approaches and you give up, thinking if this guy talks to you and even ended up asking you out he should accept you as you are, right?

You’re wrong, because three dates in all he ever did was subtly criticize everything you did. He was trying to groom you into the girlfriend you can never be for him, and that appalled you so much and hurt you at the same time. You think he’d be one of the few guys who’ll understand that as much as you want to, you can’t really change who you are for someone else.

Nathan was livid. “Fuck that guy. He’s nuts.” He crackles through one of your nightly phone calls. “He’s ugly, he sounds like a rat, and I bet he smells like--”

“Okay, enough.” You chuckle at his frustration despite feeling down the past few days post ‘break-up’. “It’s okay, really, but I’m not that girl for him.”

“You’re not. You’re like leagues cooler than him, anyway.”

“Damn right I am.”

In the following years as he started his NHL career in Colorado, and with you moving to New York for your job, you’ve only seen him a handful of times although the Facetimes were still consistent. The time difference was there, and even if your calls only lasted about ten minutes or so as you both caught up with your lives, it was enough. You didn’t need two hours with him on the phone, because yours and Nate’s friendship was as solid as an asteroid crater on land. It could be two years since you’ve last spoken to one another and when you do see each other again it’s like nothing has changed. You’re grateful for it, because with you having a new life in NYC and him making a home out of Denver, he’s still the one piece of Cole Harbour you have anywhere you go.

You forget about dating as you focus on your job. You love it, and you love living in New York. You’ve made friends that you can already consider as family. You have a great life ahead of you and you know it. You watch Nate’s games when he’s in town. You meet him back home in Canada when you managed to get a week off from work. Life is good and steady. For a while you thought that the happiness you managed to find will last a long time, and it did...until it didn’t. That’s when you realized.

Nate gets a girlfriend. Her name is incredibly girly and she’s fucking beautiful.

The Facetimes and phone calls were less now, has been for the last couple of months, really, but that did not bother you at all because they were having a fantastic season and you understand his job comes first.

What hurt you though was how he just dropped the news like a bomb through text. And you two never ever texted. You didn’t even get a scoop that he was seeing someone, never even mentioned anyone when you two manage to sneak in calls in between your busy schedules. It’s on a sad and dull Friday night when you were sulking on your couch because nobody was available to hang out with you to get a drink when the text comes.

‘Guess I have a gf now lol. Her name’s __’ Attached is a picture of her seated across from Nate on what appears to be a restaurant.

You sit up in alarm, your heart beating a mile per second, followed by a heavy ache in your chest. You don’t know what to feel yet you’re feeling everything all at once--surprise, confusion, anger. The happiness is questionable. You sit there for a whole five minutes staring at the very random text when the text bubble appears on the screen.

‘You know it says when you’ve read my message ryt’

You don’t really know and you don’t really care right now. You want to yell at him and demand details, but you’re really confused as to why he’s texting when he usually just calls you. It was eight in the evening when you decided to sleep away the dull ache in your chest and that heavy heart of yours. You turn your phone on silent as you put it inside the drawer of your bedside table.

The following day you wake up at noon. You instinctively reach for your phone on the bedside table when your hands come up with nothing--and then you remember where you put it the previous night. You didn’t dare check it, though, because the moment you wake up you know the ache is still there. You remember those damn texts, you remember everything you’ve felt as you lie in your bed for hours when your mind and body refuses to shut down.

You skip breakfast because you weren’t really hungry, so you do your laundry instead. It leads to you cleaning your bathroom, and then that leads to cleaning your entire apartment, and when you managed to finish it was almost four in the afternoon. You were too tired to cook, so you munch on cereal. You chug several bottles of water after when you realize you haven’t had any the entire day. You take a quick shower. You switched on Netflix on your flatscreen and you managed to finish two movies. You stare blankly on the rolling credits as you feel your mind shut down. You’ve managed to avoid thinking about Nate and his new girlfriend for the entire day, and now that it’s evening again you feel every damn feeling come back. You finally decide to check on your phone.

Fifteen messages and ten phone calls all from Nate. Funny how that turned out. You check some more and there were texts and a few calls from your sister and from a few friends from back home. You check that out first, and you were surprised that they all seem to ask you the same damn thing: You okay? Where are you? Nate texted me saying you weren’t answering your phone.

Ten phone calls left unanswered.

Then you finally get to his messages:

‘Why you leaving me on read?’

‘Heyyyyyy’

‘y/n…..!!!!!!!!!’

‘I’m getting worried wtf’

‘Y u aint answering meeeee’

‘I’ve called five times!!’

‘TEN times!’

‘Are you okay?’

‘Holy shit where the hell are you’

‘Don’t joke with me like this I’m fucking serious answer your phone’

‘Even your sister can’t reach you’

‘What’s happening? Are you at a party and drunk off your ass in some dark alley in nyc?’

‘Jesus i don’t even know your friends there i can’t contact anyone to check on you’

‘Just please call me back asap. I’m fucking worried bc you always have your phone with u’

‘Hope you’re okay’

It’s kinda funny how he stopped trying, because you haven’t been on your phone the entire day as well and there weren’t any follow up texts or calls this day. You don’t know when the bitterness settled in but now you finally know what you feel and you feel bad that you’re feeling that way. Why are you reacting this badly? You don’t even know, but to calm his dramatic ass down you finally reply to him.

‘Sorry lol im sick i’ve been asleep and weak the whole day’

You jump on the call that lights up your screen immediately and you panic while thinking of ways to sound sick.

“Hey…”

“Jesus fucking christ.” Is how he greets you. “I’ve been worried sick the whole day.” You suppress a snort because you don’t know how true that is. “You okay?”

“Not really…” You try to croak. “Got a raging fever.”

“How long? Maybe you should go to the hospital. Don’t you have someone who can drive you?”

“Unlike you, I don’t have someone.” Is what slips out of your mouth before you can even think about it. You gasp at your own display of bitterness because that sounded harsher than you intended. You know he means well, and of course you know that he knows you have many friends in the city. He wasn’t specifically pointing out a boyfriend, but you sure are making things big. Stupid fucking bitterness. Stupid fucking jealousy. You tried to deny it, but when you’re close to crying over your best friend getting a girlfriend that he apparently hid from you, then you know what it really is after all.

His silence is deafening and it’s the first time you’ve ever felt awkward with him and you’re not even together in the same damn place.

As the silence stretches on, you hear a voice in the background call out. “Nate? You coming to bed?”

And you beat him before he can voice out a reply to her, or to you. “I’m fine. I can take care of myself. You should go, I’m hanging up. Catch ya later.”

You don’t ‘catch up’ with him, not for another three days, and even then it’s still through text. Your last phone call had been two weeks prior to his girlfriend revelation. You tell him you’ve recovered from your (fake) fever and that you’ve been busy with work you missed. He tells you about his schedules and games and the new guy who’s recently traded to the Avs. There wasn’t another phone call for weeks to come and it’s weird not hearing his voice for more than a month.

You’ve finally managed to put your jealousy aside as you try to ignore that, yes, you’re probably in love with Nate without you even knowing. Over the weeks that passed you’ve come to a very, very annoying realization that the reason why you don’t and can’t date is because no one will even compare to Nate. You’ve managed to put him on a pedestal when you really shouldn’t have but it’s hard when he’s the best guy you’ve ever known. He’s the only guy who understands you and knows you inside out. He has no judgement for who you are. He was the one you shared your entire life with and no one of the opposite gender will probably solidify himself on you as Nate did. You think life has been okay because it’s you and him against the world even if you’ve been long distance for a long time now. Him not telling you about this girl from the beginning really, really hurt you more than it should, but you will come to realize it’s the wake-up call you badly needed.

You’re fucking in love with Nathan MacKinnon and that scares you.

#nathan mackinnon #colorado avalanche #oh look she tried to fucking write #nhl fic #nathan mackinnon x reader #the word realize has been in this things too many times im so fucking sorry #nhl fanfiction

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plasticnightmaredoll · 3 years

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Well, it’s 2021, and my birthday week, so life has to just put more stress on me by having my back suddenly start hurting. Like, seriously, what the actual FUCK? I am going to be 34 years old this week, NOT 64 YEARS OLD. I am in good shape physically. I mean, I exercise regularly and eat decently enough. Mentally, I’m a mess but physically, this shit shouldn’t happen to me.

But I’m not even mad (anymore). This is just 2020 part 2, and the good times keep on avoiding everyone.

In order to cope with this newest drama, I decided to write a short self-insert involving Arkham Knight Riddler. It’s mostly me being a stubborn, bratty bitch and him being a bratty, stubborn bitch.

As it SHOULD be.

But there’s some fluff in it, too.

And maybe a hint at some suggestiveness if you squint.

“It’s not, like, I’m dying or anything,” I said, almost attempting to sit up but then I remembered the soreness in my back. “I just...need a little time to recover.”

“And tell me again how continuing your exercise routine and going back to work will help?” Edward demanded, crossing his arms as he narrowed his eyes at me.

“I just need to improvise, ok?” I explained slowly, deliberately, my voice starting to reveal the agitation that was boiling up inside me. “I just need to avoid doing certain movements and avoid lifting anything too heavy. Make sense?”

“Excuse my bluntness but, have you suddenly become stupid?!”

“What? No!”

“Gee, you could have fooled me. Tell me, where is the logic in putting yourself through unnecessary physical stress when you already have back pain?”

“Because this exercise routine is important to me, ok?!” I hissed, and my tone managed to startle Edward a bit, so I brought my mood back down to earth as best as I could. “I’ve been doing it for 6 years now, and it makes me feel good about myself because it helps me look good. It’s also one of the few things in my shitty life I have control over. It’s something to look forward to, something that’s kind of a reward, a way to unwind. If I lose it then…” I shrugged. “What do I have? Gaming?”

“Your obsession with your physical appearance is causing you to make the most ridiculous decisions.”

“It’s not a vanity thing! It’s not something I expect you to understand because you’re a guy, and guys don’t often face the same objectification as women --”

“So, that’s what this is? You’re trying to cater to society’s pointless opinions on physical beauty?”

“No! I mean...yes, but it’s also helping me. I don’t want to sit around all the time and do nothing. I want to do something, and I want to look and feel good while doing it.”

“And about this job of yours...it’s beneath you! I told you this before. You are paid piddlies while doing monotonous work for 10 hours a day -- oh, excuse me, a night -- and you are surrounded by people who probably all share one brain cell! You don’t deserve to be trapped in such a suffocating environment.”

“I won’t argue with you on any of that.”

“Because you agree.”

“Yes, but what am I supposed to do? Quit?”

“Yes!”

“Ok, then what am I supposed to do about money? Getting unemployment takes a century, and it’s not even going to be as much as the ‘piddlies’ I’m making now -- which is barely enough to get by as it is.”

“I can help you,” Edward said, kneeling down beside the couch where I lay. “Whatever you need I can provide. I have money now -- lots of it! More than I need.”

“I don’t need a Sugar Daddy,” I said as I tried to take a deep breath to calm myself but the stinging pain I felt as my ribs expanded with my lungs put an abrupt halt to that effort.

“It’s not that kind of arrangement I’m offering,” Edward said, sounding a little calmer now.

“I know, I know but...I don’t want help.”

“But you need it.”

“Maybe but I don’t want it.”

I started to sit up but the sharp pain in my back stopped me, and I let out a strained breath as I continued to try and force myself up.

“No, wait,” Edward said, pressing me back down by my shoulders. “What are you doing?”

I could tell he was worried by the somewhat fearful look in his eyes, and while I appreciated his concern, I wasn’t in need of being babied.

“I’m thirsty,” I said with a huff, frustrated with the entire situation. “I want something to drink. Now, if you’ll excuse me --”

“No!” Edward said sternly, holding me down. “Stay. I’ll get what you want.”

“Water with ice, please,” I said, too tired to argue anymore.

I laid there on my couch, feeling sorry for myself but also determined to NOT feel sorry for myself. Yes, I was a weakling when it came to pain, I bitched all the time, I could be quite lazy, and I could also be very snotty. I couldn’t just lay down and give up, though, and I didn’t want charity. In fact, I didn’t want to rely on anyone for help. I already bothered my parents enough -- even if they said they didn’t mind helping me whenever I needed it -- and I didn’t need to rope in someone else.

My life was shit and that was my problem to sort out.

When Edward returned, he set the water on a coaster on the table next to the couch before kneeling down on the floor.

“Just think about my offer, ok?” he said, and I could tell he wanted to be more aggressive about it because of the tension in his voice and shoulders but he managed to keep his feelings under control for the time being. “It wouldn’t be a problem for me. At all.”

“I’ll think about it,” I said. “Thanks, though.”

“Well, you...were there for me when I lost everything and…” he started blushing, clearing his throat quickly before continuing. “I want to return the favor.”

“For now, maybe you could just...rub my back?”

“Huh?”

“My back...I want to try and crack it, or just massage the muscles but I can’t reach.”

“Oh! Ok, yes, yes, I can do that.”

Edward helped me turn over, and I didn’t push him away. I was, as I already mentioned, too tired to argue, so I just let him assist me. I instructed him where to put his hands, how much pressure to apply, and I hugged the couch cushion tightly as I experienced some discomfort. I did hear -- and feel -- a few cracks, though, and they honestly felt … kind of good.

“Oh!” I said, lifting my head up a bit.

“Was that too much?” Edward asked, removing his hands.

“No, no, not at all. That...that felt kind of good, actually.”

“I’ll keep going then. Tell me if you feel any pain, though.”

I nodded and rested my chin on the pillow in my arms, wincing a little here and there but overall, his hands were helping more than hurting me. In fact, it must have been very relaxing because I woke up later in my bed, covered up and even cuddling my plush rabbit (that thing was as old as me, and luckily, Edward didn’t pass judgment about it). Looking around, I wondered if he had already left, seeing it was getting to be late in the evening, and my heart sank a bit. But he had a right to leave. He had his own life after all, and I didn’t need to be babied, remember?

Carefully, I rolled onto my side and pushed myself up, my back aching but I just pushed through it. When I was finally sitting on the edge of the bed, I took a few breaths to steady myself as I prepared to stand. That was when the door to my room opened just a bit.

“Oh, you’re awake,” Edward said, stepping into my room. “Are you ok? Do you need help?”

“I just need to pee,” I said, waving my hand. “I can do that by myself.”

“All right...do you think you might want something to eat?”

“Uh...yeah, maybe. Not sure what, though.”

I stood up and rubbed at my back, grimacing at the soreness. Edward was at my side before I could say anything and I gently pushed him aside.

“I got it, I got it,” I said, laughing softly. “I’m not an old lady.”

As I made my way to the bathroom, a thought came to me, a thought that got my heart racing and my face turning red. But I was compelled to ask Edward something, and...he was right there…

“Eddie?” I said, meekly.

“Yes?” he responded from the doorway.

“Could you, um...stay tonight? I-In case I need something.”

“Oh, um…”

“I mean, you don’t have to. I’m not, like, trying to --”

“I’ll stay.”

I felt so much relief upon hearing that I almost cried.

“I could stay...for a few days if you’d like?”

“I couldn’t ask for that much.”

“You’re not. I’m offering.”

“I’d appreciate it, honestly.”

“Then it’s settled then,” Edward said with a pleased hum. “I will just go grab a few things of mine. Do you think you’ll be ok on your own for a bit?”

“Yeah, yeah, that’s fine. I’ll be ok. Thanks…”

“In the meantime then, take care...my...Darling Devinette.”

Edward was gone before I turned to look back at him, surprised by the nickname. It wasn’t like he hadn’t used nicknames with me before but this time he sounded...different. Like...he was being...affectionate instead of just teasing? Or maybe I was just reading too much into it?

As I waited for Edward to return, though, I couldn’t help but push my pain aside and wonder if he’d call me that nickname in an endearing tone again while staying with me? I also hoped he wouldn’t mind rubbing my back again because, yes, it did help with the stiffness but it also...felt good for reasons I wasn’t going to admit out loud.

I shook my head as I heard Edward enter my apartment again, feeling like I was just being silly. He was a friend, we were friends, friends helped each other, friends had nicknames for each other, and back rubs weren’t always sensual. I was experiencing some back pain after all. So, no reason to get excited….

Right?

-----

And that’s it...for now.

Will there be a part 2? Maybe.

Will it get smutty? Possibly.

Is this self-indulgent? Definitely.

Is Arkham Knight Edward in character? God, I really hope so.

#edward nigma #riddler #arkham knight riddler #self-insert #arkhamverse riddler #self ship #arkham riddler #edward nygma #the riddler #self shipping #fictional others #f/os

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unfolded73 · 4 years

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My Heartbeat Shows the Fear (1/4) - schitt’s creek ff

Summary: A canon divergent story: Patrick gets into a car accident and it brings the Brewers to town sooner.

Notes: This fic will be posted in 4 chapters, every other day. There is some description of injuries, but nothing too graphic or life-threatening.

The title is from "Overkill" by Colin Hay, which thanks to the show Scrubs puts me in mind of hospitals.

Thank you to Amanita_Fierce for putting so much time and thought into betaing this fic - you made it so, so much better. And thanks also to @high-seas-swan for some helpful suggestions, particularly on that one scene that I tore apart and rewrote.

Rated Teen, this chapter 5278 words. (ao3)

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Chapter 1

Patrick drifted into wakefulness like rising from a deep dive to the surface of the water. He became aware first, before even opening his eyes, of David’s arm over his chest and his hand curled protectively around the side of his ribcage. The sheets were soft against his skin and the duvet was a comforting weight over his body and he never wanted to move from this spot. Patrick lifted his own hand and dropped it clumsily over David’s, calloused fingertips tracing gently over David’s knuckles.

“Good morning,” David said in a surprisingly coherent voice for first thing in the morning.

Opening his eyes to see David watching him was an unusual experience. As he blinked sleep out of his eyes, Patrick tried to remember if David had ever woken up before him, and the only occasion he could summon to mind was New Year’s Day, after a night when Patrick had gotten much drunker than David had.

“Why are you awake so early?” Patrick yawned.

David shrugged. “It’s almost eight o’clock; you’re just sleeping later than usual.”

Groaning, Patrick started to sit up. The very energetic sex they’d indulged in last night must’ve really worn him out. “We’ve gotta get up and get started on those vendor pickups.” It was Monday and the store was closed, but they had so many pickups to do this week that they’d grudgingly agreed to do them on their day off, splitting the list in half.

“Mmm, five more minutes,” David said, holding Patrick down with the arm across his chest and shifting closer, their naked bodies coming into closer contact. Patrick closed his eyes and took a moment to appreciate that David hadn’t gotten up to put on pajamas last night, his usual routine even now that Patrick had his own apartment. Patrick was starting to suspect that he could read David’s lack of clothes the next morning as a particularly positive review on his performance in bed the night before.

“What are you smiling about?” David asked.

“Last night,” Patrick responded without opening his eyes. They really needed to get up, he thought, but lazing around in bed with David was very tempting.

David made a pleased sound in the back of his throat. “Yeah, that was, um…” He nuzzled against Patrick’s shoulder. “If that’s what happens after you go on a date with someone else, I’m almost inclined to tell you to do it again.”

Patrick bristled at that. “That’s not funny.”

“Sorry,” David whispered, pressing a supplicating kiss against Patrick’s arm.

“Besides, I bailed partway through the date,” Patrick said.

“Mm. Poor Ken,” David said. “He has no idea what he’s missing out on.”

Patrick frowned, turning onto his side and dislodging David from his chest. “You didn’t expect me to sleep with Ken, did you?”

David opened and closed his mouth. “Not sleep with, no.”

The same queasiness that Patrick had felt last night as he drove to meet Ken rose up in his stomach. “Then, what? A quick handjob in my car?”

David shot him a guilty look. “No,” he said, but then bit his lip. “Or, I don’t know. Maybe something like that. Something that you’ve only experienced with me that you might be… curious about experiencing with another man.”

Patrick sighed. “Okay, first of all, I’m not particularly curious about experiencing stuff like that with other men.”

“Yeah, you said—”

“And if I do become curious, or… or want to … explore with another guy in the future, you and I are going to have to be a lot clearer with each other about what is and isn’t going to happen.”

“Ground rules,” David grumbled.

“Yeah, I guess.” Patrick leaned over and kissed him. “But, David.” He kissed him again. “It’s so good with you. I sort of can’t imagine anyone else not being a huge step down in quality.”

He watched David’s face go on a journey before settling on pleased. “That’s very flattering. But sometimes the point is that it’s a stranger. Or at least, someone you aren’t going to see again.”

Patrick pulled back. “Is that something you want?”

David rolled his eyes, dismissing that idea with a flap of his hand as he looked up at the ceiling. “God no. I had a lifetime’s worth of casual sex.”

Reaching out, Patrick put his hand on David’s cheek, turning his head so that they were looking at each other again. David’s face softened, his eyes gazing into Patrick’s in the way that always made his stomach swoop. Made Patrick want to sink into David’s arms and never let go. “And if that ever changes, will you tell me?”

There was a pause, and then David nodded. “Of course. Will you tell me? If you change your mind?”

Patrick nodded. “I promise.” And then he pulled David closer, kissing him deeper and with more tongue than was probably warranted given their morning breath. For once, David didn’t complain.

After a minute, Patrick had to wrench his mouth away and force himself to sit up. “Okay, if we don’t get up now, I’m going to end up fucking you again.”

David smirked. “What’s so wrong with that?” And then he wiggled his hips and his expression became more thoughtful. “Although I’m still feeling what you did to me last night.”

Patrick winced. They had gone at it pretty hard, he remembered with a mixture of desire and guilt. “Sorry.”

“No, no,” David said. “It was perfect and don’t you dare apologize. Just not sure if I can get fucked again right at this precise moment.”

Patrick whipped the covers off and stood up, ignoring his own visible arousal. “You aren’t going to be. You’re gonna get ready to do the pickups west of town.”

David whined and stuck his bottom lip out. Patrick turned away from him and padded barefoot across the hardwood floor before he was tempted to bite David’s lip, because that way did not lead toward getting their vendor pickups done. “Can you make us some breakfast while I shower?” Patrick called over his shoulder. David’s “ugh fine” reached his ears just as he was closing the bathroom door.

Once he had showered and shaved, Patrick emerged back into the apartment, a towel around his waist. David had pulled on a sweatshirt and drawstring shorts and was in the kitchen making Patrick’s tea. The domesticity of it made something tender and fragile swell in his chest. He loved having David here in his apartment, and he felt a wild desire to just ask David to move in, his resolution to take his time with that step in their relationship be damned. In moments like this, his original idea that he wanted to spend some time living on his own seemed silly. As he pulled on underwear and jeans (glancing over his shoulder to catch David checking out his ass), a t-shirt and a v-neck sweater, he imagined it — David’s clothes in his closet (well, some of them), David’s shoes by the door, his journal on the nightstand, his products finding a permanent home in Patrick’s bathroom rather than lugged back and forth between the motel and the apartment in David’s bag.

“Your mom is texting.”

Startled, Patrick looked over to David, who was pointing at Patrick’s phone on the kitchen counter. “I’m gonna shower,” David continued, unaware of the track of Patrick’s thoughts. “Here’s your tea and some toast.”

Patrick walked over and picked up his phone in one hand and a piece of toast in the other.

Mom: Can you call when you get a chance?

Oh yeah, the other reason he wasn’t ready to ask David to move in yet, he thought with a surge of shame. His parents.

Figuring David would be in the bathroom for a while yet, Patrick unlocked his phone and placed the requested call.

“Hi, sweetheart!” his mother said in a chipper voice.

“Everything okay?”

“Everything’s fine, we were just having breakfast and realizing that we hadn’t heard from you in a while. How are things with you?”

Patrick looked at the closed bathroom door, and then moved over to the other side of the apartment. “Things are good. I’ve got vendor pickups to do today.”

“You work so hard, dear. I hope you are taking some time for yourself too.”

“I am.” He thought about dates with David, or curling up on the bed and watching movies with David, none of which he was ready to talk to his mother about. He knew it was time. It was way past time, but he could never get the words to come out when he was on the phone with his parents. “I went two for four in my last game,” he said. Baseball was always a safe topic.

“That’s great!” his mother said, the enthusiasm she’d always shown for his athletic activities obvious in her voice. “I bet they’re glad to have you on the team.”

“Uh huh. It’s a fun team.” He thought about how easy it was to be out of the closet around them — mentioning his boyfriend as the team drank beers together at the Wobbly Elm after practice, or kissing David after games when he came to watch. It was nice. He wanted that same ease with his family, to be able to mention David in passing as more than just his business partner. He ran a finger along the top of the framed picture on his desk, of him and David on Christmas Eve last year, arms around each other at the Roses’ party. Patrick had a hard time taking his eyes off of David in that photo sometimes, radiant in a silver sweater under the warm Christmas lights.

“Well,” she said, like she was hoping for him to say something else. After a pause in which he didn’t, his mother continued, “I should let you get on with your day.”

“Yeah.” He sighed, guilt churning in his stomach yet again at the fact that he couldn’t just be fucking honest with this mother. That the life he shared with his parents was more gaps than substance. “I’ll call again when I have more time to talk.”

“Okay,” she said, the happiness gone from her voice. He’d done that with his evasiveness, Patrick thought. He’d made his mother sad. “I love you, sweetheart.”

“Love you, too, Mom.”

~*~

David pulled up in front of the store in the Lincoln and pushed on the heavy driver’s door with a grunt. He stood up, his sweatshirt sticking to the small of his back with sweat. The vinyl seats were one of things he hated most about that car, and he hated a lot of things about it. He wasn’t that fond of Patrick’s car either, but at least it had slightly more comfortable seats. In any case, their divided errands had made borrowing Patrick’s car impossible, so he was stuck with the Lincoln.

He unlocked the door to the store and ducked his head in. “Patrick?” he called. Patrick’s car wasn’t out front, but it was possible he’d pulled around to the back to unload. When no one answered, David pulled out his phone and sent off a text: How close are you to getting back? There was no answer, so David assumed Patrick was driving. He opened his text chain with Stevie and texted, Can you come help me at the store for a minute?

Stevie: I’m busy working.

David: You’re not that busy if you’re texting me back.

She didn’t answer. “Fuck,” David whined to no one, resigning himself to having to unload the entire car by himself. This was why splitting up the vendor pickups had been a terrible idea, he thought as he muscled a crate of honey out of the trunk. Now here he was, all alone with very heavy things to carry.

By the time he had all of the new merchandise stacked in the back room, he was drenched with sweat and there was still no sign of Patrick. Well, just for that, he wasn’t going to wait around, David thought churlishly as he locked up and got back in the car. He was going to go take a shower at the motel and Patrick could unload by himself too.

He briefly considered going to Patrick’s apartment to shower; his water pressure was better and David had a couple of changes of clothes there. Plus, he had a key, and Patrick had said that he was welcome to come and go as he pleased. But he also knew that living alone was something that Patrick wanted — it was something he’d never had before, he’d admitted to David on the day he’d signed the lease. He’d gone from his parents’ house to a dorm to apartments with a series of roommates to living with Rachel to rooming with Ray. He’d never had his own place. David understood that and he wanted Patrick to have what he needed, not have David unexpectedly underfoot when he perhaps wasn’t welcome. Still, it didn’t stop his heart from aching a little bit. He wanted to live with Patrick, he’d realized. He had been ready to take that step and Patrick hadn’t been. It stung.

Alexis was doing something on the laptop computer at her little desk when David walked into their shared room, and she looked up at him and wrinkled her nose.

“Ugh, David, what happened to you?” she asked.

Narrowing his eyes, he dropped his bag on the bed. “I was working. What are you talking about?”

“You’re all gross and sweaty,” she replied.

“It’s hot out today, and I had to do a bunch of vendor pickups in that boat of a car and then unload everything into the store by myself because Patrick’s not back yet,” he complained. He collected a change of clothes and marched into the bathroom, slamming the door behind him to punctuate how tough his day had been. Okay, he’d been able to sample some of the new butter cookies that Mrs. Franklin sold through their store, and maybe she’d also given him a glass of lemonade, but still.

After a shower, David felt worlds better, although there was still no reply from Patrick to his text.

“What is taking him so long to get back?” David muttered as he dug through his cedar chest. The sweater he was looking for didn’t appear to be in there, another annoyance in a day of annoyances.

“What’s the matter?” Alexis asked.

David waved at her, his hand flapping at the end of his wrist. “Patrick’s just taking forever to finish his vendor pickups,” he said, trying to ignore the worry beginning to gnaw in his stomach. “It’s fine.”

“I hope you had a talk last night, David,” Alexis said, her eyes not coming up from her laptop. “No more fooling around with anyone outside the relationship until you’ve established some ground rules.”

David whipped around and glared at her. “Can you let that go, please? We’re fine.”

“No thanks to you,” she said.

He suppressed a squawk. “We had a healthy talk about it this morning. We’re fine.”

“Good,” Alexis said.

“Also the sex last night was very hot—”

“David, ew.” She stuck her tongue out. “Don’t tell me that.” But then she sort of half-smiled at him. “I’m glad you guys are okay.”

David smiled back. He was glad too. “He makes me…” David started to say, then thought better of being so vulnerable in front of his sister. But what the hell; she’d been there for him last night when he needed someone. He moved over to his bed and sat down to put on his shoes. “He makes me feel safe. No one’s ever… I’ve never dated anyone who made me feel safe before.”

Alexis, to her credit, didn’t make fun of him, although the squinty smile she gave him made him recoil, grimacing.

“Kids!” his dad called as he barged into the room. “We’re headed over to the café for dinner. Do you want to join us?”

Alexis shook her head. “I’m going over to Ted’s for dinner.”

David picked up his phone and sent another text to Patrick. Are you still not back yet? And then he stared at the screen, waiting to see dots to indicate Patrick was texting back, or at least to see a read receipt. The ball of worry in his stomach grew a little bit bigger.

“David, do you want to come with your mother and me?” Johnny asked.

“I was supposed to eat at Patrick’s,” he said. “But maybe. I don’t know.” He switched apps and called Patrick’s phone, holding it to his ear and listening to it ring and ring and ring. With every ring, he felt his breathing rate tick up.

“Well, we’re going now, so I need you to decide,” Johnny said irritably.

David slapped his phone down on the bedspread and threw his hands up. “Then go without me; it’s fine!”

“David, I’m not going to wait around for a second evening that I’m supposed to spend with Ted while you have another meltdown about—”

“No one’s having a meltdown!” David shouted. “I just don’t know where my boyfriend is!” He looked at the time, feeling queasy. His previous annoyance was gone and now he was just worried. Patrick really should have been back hours ago. He tried calling again.

“David, you need to be a little bit less clingy—” Alexis said.

“Okay, well, we’re going to go,” Johnny said. “You can join us later, if…”

David’s phone vibrated in his hand, and he saw he had a call from an unknown number coming in as he tried to call Patrick. Maybe Patrick’s phone had died and he was calling from someone else’s phone, he thought as he clicked to answer.

“Hello?”

“Hello, is this David Rose?” asked a woman in a sharp, business-like tone of voice.

“Yes, who is this?” he snapped.

“This is Cheryl calling from Elmdale Hospital. We’ve got a Patrick Brewer here and he gave us your number as his emergency contact.”

“Oh, God.” There was a rushing noise in his ears and his mouth tasted like bile as he tried to shape it into making useful words. “What happened to him? Is he okay?” David clutched the edge of his bed, feeling dizzy, heart racing.

“There was a car accident and he was brought in by ambulance a little while ago. He’s having some tests done, but I can’t disclose any information about his health to you over the phone. If you come to the hospital—”

David hung up. He imagined Patrick’s car, the car he’d ridden in countless times on their way to movie dates or dinner, speeding through the countryside as Mariah Carey or one of Patrick’s alt-folk bands blasted out of the shitty speakers. Patrick’s car, mangled on a deserted road somewhere, no one around for miles. How long did it take before an ambulance came? How long was he lying there alone, broken and injured by the side of the road?

“David, you’ve gone very pale,” Alexis said.

“Is Patrick all right?” Johnny asked as Moira wandered in.

“John, I’m a bit peckish,” she said. “Are we leaving soon?”

“Patrick was in a car accident,” David said. Everyone’s voices sounded muffled to his ears, even his own. “I need to go to the hospital.” He stood up and looked around for the keys. He didn’t think he’d returned them to his father’s stupid little hook in the other room. Where were they?

There was a flurry of activity and then Alexis was at his side. “I’ll drive.”

David ignored her. He didn’t have time to think about Alexis right now. Where were the fucking keys?

Alexis held up her hand. “I have the keys and I’m driving,” she said, and David spared a moment to be confused about what he’d just thought to himself and what he’d said out loud. “You’re shaking,” she said pointedly. “Put your shoes on and let’s go.”

“Is he all right, David?” his mother asked as David sat back down on the bed and reached for his shoes. His fingers felt numb and clumsy.

“I don’t know.”

He looked up to see his parents exchange a nervous glance.

“I mean, they said they were doing tests. They wouldn’t say that if he was, like…” Dead, his brain supplied, but the word wouldn’t come out of his mouth.

“Shall we accompany you to the hospital, my darling?” Moira asked, grimacing, clearly regretting making the offer even as she did so.

“Nope,” Alexis said, shooing them back into their room. “No need for that. We’ll call you as soon as we know something,” she said firmly. When Alexis used that voice, people often had a hard time arguing, and their parents were no exception this time.

David tied his shoes awkwardly, the bows kind of a mess. Patrick had made fun of him one time about the precise way he tied his shoes. Patrick, who was lying in a hospital bed, injured, alone…

“Come on, David,” Alexis said, taking his arm firmly but kindly. “Have you got your wallet and phone?” He patted his pockets and nodded. “Okay, let’s go.”

It was normally a forty minute drive to Elmdale, lots of time for David to imagine every possible horrible scenario. Maybe Patrick was in a coma, and would wake up having forgotten who David was, or even that he liked men. Maybe he would be paralyzed. Maybe his face would be horribly scarred. David would love him anyway, he thought, even if he’d been disfigured. All that mattered was that he came through this alive.

“I’m sure he’s okay, David,” Alexis said as if she could hear what was going on inside his head. She needed to stop doing that. It was creepy.

“You don’t know that.”

“His car is boring and probably has airbags and, like, crumple zones or whatever,” she said. “I bet he’s just got a little bonk on the head. The tests are probably just a precaution.”

He sighed, playing out that much more comforting fantasy in his head instead of his dark ones. Patrick would just stroll out of an examining room and David would hug him tight and take him home and everything would be fine.

They arrived at the hospital in only thirty-two minutes, thanks to Alexis’s speedy driving.

He identified himself at the front desk, and the receptionist or whatever she was told him to wait. David inhaled a breath, ready to argue, but Alexis was thanking the woman and dragging him over to the rows of chairs before he could get another word out. His sister perched on one of the plastic chairs and pulled out her phone while David paced back and forth in front of her. Now that they were here, he really just wanted to tear the place apart until he could see Patrick for himself. And hold his hand; he was sure that whatever had happened, Patrick would feel better if David could hold his hand.

“David Rose?” A woman in a white coat stood next to the door that led to the rest of the hospital. He rushed over.

“I’m David Rose,” he said, breathless.

“You’re Patrick Brewer’s…” She consulted the chart she was holding.

“Partner. Can you please tell me what happened? Is he okay?” He could sense Alexis behind him, hovering.

“Well, he got banged up pretty good. Compound fracture of the radius and fracture of the ulna, two cracked ribs, and a concussion. The police said a truck ran a stoplight and hit his car broadside.”

David thought it was wildly inappropriate that she would expect him to remember what bones were named at a time like this. “The radius is…?”

She gestured to her forearm. “Arm bones. As is often the case with this sort of impact injury, both bones in the forearm were broken.”

Wincing, David asked, “Can I see him, please?”

“Not yet; he was taken into surgery a little while ago to stabilize the arm. It has to be operated on right away because there’s a risk of infection when the bone is exposed.”

The next thing David was aware of was Alexis guiding him down into a chair. “Okay, just lean over and put your head between your knees,” she said while David tried to figure out why his vision was narrowing. He felt sweaty. Alexis disappeared for a minute, but he could hear her voice, off to the left somewhere. Also that doctor, the one who said Patrick’s arm was…

David fought the urge to throw up. It would be embarrassing to hurl all over the floor in the waiting room of Elmdale Hospital.

Finally Alexis was back. “Are you gonna pass out?”

“No. I don’t think so.” He lifted his head. “What did she say after the thing about his…”

“Bone sticking out?” Alexis asked unhelpfully. David put his head in his hands. “That they did a CT scan prior to surgery and that he was alert but concussed. You’ll be able to see him once he wakes up from the anesthesia. And they’ll have a better idea tomorrow how long he’ll need to be in the hospital.” She rubbed his back. “Do you want me to get you a cup of tea?”

David nodded. “I can’t believe this happened. Just like that.”

“Yeah, I’d like to get my hands on the driver of that truck,” Alexis said fiercely, and David couldn’t help but agree. He wasn’t a violent person, as a rule, but he’d make an exception just this once. Or he’d let Alexis have at him.

“He’s gonna be okay, though, right?” David asked, not liking the pleading edge in his voice.

Alexis was still rubbing his back, and she pressed her cheek against his arm for a second. “He’s gonna be okay, David.”

He startled, a thought occurring to him suddenly, and he fumbled for his phone. “I need to call his parents.”

“You have his parents’ phone number?” Alexis asked with a grin.

“Yeah,” he said. “I mean, I’ve never called them, but I was starting to think about…” He sighed. He hadn’t wanted to tell Alexis about this until much closer to the event. “Patrick’s birthday is coming up in a few months and I was thinking about inviting his parents to a surprise party,” he said as he pulled out his phone.

“David, that’s so cute,” she said with a pout.

“So I managed to use Patrick’s thumbprint to unlock his phone when he was dead asleep one night and I put their numbers into my phone in preparation for inviting them,” he said as he scrolled through his contacts. “Please don’t tell Mom and Dad; they can’t keep a secret,” he said as he pressed the button to call Marcy Brewer.

He’d only spoken to Patrick’s mother a couple of times, when she’d called the store after being unable to reach Patrick on his mobile phone. He’d handed the phone over to Patrick quickly after some brief pleasantries, but he’d gotten the impression of a friendly woman. Just the sort of person he’d expect to have raised Patrick Brewer.

“Hello,” came the maternal voice down the phone line as Alexis stood up, flopping her wrists towards her mouth. When he shook his head in confusion at her, she stuck out her pinky, miming sipping, before walking away. Right, she was going to get tea.

“Hi, Mrs. Brewer, this is David Rose calling.”

“Oh, David! How are you?”

“Um, well, not great. I’m sorry to have to call you like this, and let me start by saying Patrick is going to be fine…”

“Oh, dear. This is like the phone calls I used to get from his coaches,” she said, sounding surprisingly calm. “What happened?”

“He was in a car accident this afternoon and he’s in the hospital.” David felt tears pressing behind his eyes, and he ruthlessly swallowed them down. “I haven’t been able to see him yet, but they said his arm is broken. Also some ribs.” He decided to stop there, if for no other reason than he didn’t think he could go into more detail without needing to put his head between his knees again.

“Oh, my sweet Patrick,” Marcy gasped, sounding much less calm. “Why haven’t you been able to see him?”

“They’re… um… operating on his arm.” He braced his elbows on his knees. “It was a bad fracture.”

“Okay,” she said, back to sounding calm. “Clint and I will come there. We’ll be there in the morning.”

David wasn’t sure exactly where the Brewers lived, but he thought it was pretty far, and it sounded like she was implying that they would drive all night. “Maybe you should get some rest and leave in the morning?”

“As if I’d be able to sleep tonight, worrying about my boy,” she said. “He’s all alone there,” she said.

Frowning, David said, “I’ll be here. And my sister Alexis is here.” He wondered why she’d put it that way. Surely she didn’t think David would leave the hospital tonight, did she?

“That’s very sweet of you, David,” Marcy said. “I’ll let you know when we get into town, okay?”

“Yeah, okay,” David said, off-kilter from the conversation. His eyes fixed on a stack of pamphlets on the table next to him, where a smiling woman was entirely too happy about routine colonoscopies. “It’s Elmdale Hospital,” he told Marcy.

“Thanks, David. If you see Patrick tonight, please let him know we’re on our way.”

When a nurse finally came to tell them that Patrick was out of recovery, Alexis had fallen asleep across his lap and David had read the entire pamphlet about colonoscopies (and all of the other pamphlets within reach) front to back. He shook Alexis awake and bolted up from the uncomfortable chair, not looking back to see if Alexis was following.

The first thing he noticed were the cuts on Patrick’s face. They weren’t large; probably not worth mentioning in the context of his other injuries. Just tiny knicks in his forehead and left cheek from bits of glass, David assumed. But tears still welled up in David’s eyes when he saw those angry little cuts. Patrick looked like he was sleeping, his arm bandaged and immobilized within a plastic splint contraption.

“Why don’t they put a cast on his arm?” Alexis asked as David went to sit next to the bed.

The nurse who was fiddling with one of the machines in the room looked up. “They will once they’ve made certain there’s no infection.”

Patrick opened his eyes and his face cracked into a sloppy smile. “It’s David!” he slurred, then he turned to the nurse. “David is my very handsome boyfriend who’s very handsome. See, I told you.”

Alexis snorted, covering her mouth, her eyes dancing with mirth.

“What’s wrong with him?” David asked.

The nurse smiled. “He just came out from under general anesthesia. He’s been talking about you a lot.”

“Flying pretty high, Patrick?” Alexis asked with a smirk. She pulled out her phone and held it up.

“Put that away,” David snapped.

Patrick squinted at her like he couldn’t quite focus on someone that far away. “Hi, Alexis,” he said. “Thanks for coming to visit me in the hospital.” Then his head swung around to David again. “I love you. I’m glad you’re here.”

“I’m glad I’m here too,” David said around a lump in his throat. “I was worried about you.”

Patrick’s smile fell. “David?”

“Yes, honey?”

“I think I’m gonna puke.”

Chapter 2

#schitt's creek #david x patrick #schitt's creek ff #schitt's creek fic #david x patrick fic #david x patrick ff #my fic

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eldritchsurveys · 4 years

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604.

What do you do for work? >> I don’t.

What would you ideally like to do for work? >> Ideally, I’d like to do something constructive -- as in, something that directly contributes to the care and maintenance of the community -- that doesn’t require me to keep unnecessarily long hours (necessarily long hours are a different story) and where my time, energy, and mental health are respected. Typing that made me feel silly because I could already hear the socialised inner voice chastising me for being so ~grandiose or whatever. That inner voice is probably exactly why corporations and employers get away with treating their workers like wage slaves who should be grateful to be employed at all.

What are you doing in order to achieve this? >> Anyway, yeah, I’m not doing anything to achieve that. I’m not even sure how I would, in this society. But in the meantime, I’ll be grateful that I still have a government income and my life partner appreciates and supports me despite my unemployment.

What is the meaning of your life? What is it that you really live for? >> I’ve put the search for meaning on hold. I live for the sake of living, for now, because that’s as good as anything else.

Have you ever REALLY thought what it means to have children? >> Yeah. It’s pretty daunting (understatement of the year, but I can’t think of a better, clearer word right now).

Are you planning to have children anyway? >> I am not.

What is the most awful thing about the world today? >> I don’t know.

What do you think is the worst being on the planet? >> I don’t think anyone is the worst being on the planet.

Have you ever been arrested? If so, what for? >> No.

Have you ever been in court? If so, in which role? >> Yes. Defendant. (I’ve also been to civil court, a much less dramatic process.)

Which do you think is a more valuable being, a human or an animal? >> I personally place more value on the humans in my life than I do the animals in my life.

What, in your opinion, will cause the end of the world? >> I don’t have any opinions about “the end of the world”.

What does your mother do for work? If she's a homemaker, any specific reason for this? >> ---

What about your father? What does he do? >> ---

How do you like your coffee? >> Black.

If you're of age, what's your favourite alcoholic drink? >> I have so many.

If you're under-aged, what is your favourite soft drink? >> ---

Do you smoke? If so, did you start when you were 18 or were you younger? >> I don’t smoke anymore, but I started when I was in my mid-20s (I stopped at around 30).

Did your parents approve of your smoking/alcohol use before you turned 18? If you started before the age of 18. >> ---

Do you have siblings? If not, skip the next few questions.

Are you eldest, in the middle or youngest?

How big an age gap is between you and your siblings?

Do/did your siblings cause trouble?

If your siblings are old enough, what do they do for work?

Have you ever been jealous of your siblings? If so, why?

Do you still live with your parent/s or do you live alone/with a partner? >> I live with a partner.

What do you think about growing up? >> I don’t really understand the concept, aside from learning to take responsibility for oneself and stuff like that.

What about having responsibilities? >> I think it’s important.

Do you know how to cook? If so, what's your favourite thing to cook? >> Sure. I don’t have a favourite thing.

What about baking? >> I don’t bake.

Do you ever drink tea? >> Yes.

Have you ever followed any of these fad diets that go around? >> No.

What do you usually order at your favourite restaurant? >> ---

Do you prefer a proper restaurant to a fast food place? >> I definitely do.

Is there an arcade anywhere near where you live? If so, have you ever been there? If you have, what's the game/s you usually play? >> There’s a Dave and Buster’s not too far away. I’ve never been there, though.

Have you ever played pinball? If so, an actual machine or on a computer? >> Yes. Both.

Have you ever taken part in a pinball tournament? If so, what has been your highest position? >> No.

What's your dream vehicle? >> ---

What about your dream house? >> ---

What is the biggest dream of your life? >> ---

If you could travel to another country right now, where would you go? >> It doesn’t matter.

What is a country you'd never ever visit? >> I don’t know.

Are you good at taking care of your finances? >> Sure.

Have you ever had any trouble paying your bills? What about your rent? >> Sure. I’m on a fixed income, it’s bound to happen at some point.

What do you think is the best thing about being an adult? What about the worst? >> I think the best thing is having agency -- being completely responsible for myself, for better or worse. It was all I wanted when I was a minor, to be able to make my own decisions and deal with whatever consequences occurred. The worst thing is, you know, coming to terms with mortality and banal shit like that.

Is there a person in your life, who wastes their life somehow? If so, how are they wasting their life? >> I don’t think it’s appropriate for me to say that someone is wasting their life.

What is something you need to do, but you keep postponing it? >> ---

Do you think life should just hand things to you? >> No.

Or should you earn the things you want and need with hard work? >> I think that’s exactly how it should go. But I think despite the fact that the society I live in claims that’s exactly how it goes, it... doesn’t always. Plenty of people work very hard but don’t reap the rewards of that work -- someone else, in an office, high above the earth, reaps the rewards instead. I don’t think actual work is truly valued in this society.

Would you rather live off government benefits or earn your own money? >> I don’t even have a preference at this point. I’ve seen what you have to do to earn money in this country. I’ll deal with the stigma of disability.

When you take a survey, do you skip questions? If so, what kinds of questions? >> Yeah. Questions I can’t answer.

What type of a survey do you skip altogether? >> Anything that doesn’t look interesting to take.

Why, do you think, people write lyrics as the title for a survey? >> Because it’s fun, dawg.

If you have a Facebook, what do you use it for? >> So people can contact me. I really don’t do anything on it.

If you have a Twitter, what do you use it for? >> ---

If you have a Tumblr, what do you use it for? >> Entertainment and indulgence, mostly.

If you have an iPhone, why? >> ---

If you have an iPad, why? >> ---

If you have the latest electronic gadgets, did you pay for them yourself? If not, then who did? >> I don’t have “the latest” anything. But yes, I often do pay for my own electronics, except when Sparrow buys them for me.

Do you always put your litter in a trashcan? If not, why not? >> Yeah. I’d rather carry my trash than litter.

When you walk/ride your bike/drive your car, are you careful? If not, why not? >> Well, I mean... yes????

What is the rudest thing a person could do or say to you? >> I don’t know.

Have you ever been that rude to someone else? >> I’ve been rude enough, I’m sure.

Do you think your parents are proud of you and what you do with your life? >> No. I know for a fact he is not.

Which would you rather be, famous or a "nobody"? Why? >> I would much rather be a nobody. Because it means I have the most freedom.

Do you need to have the latest fashion in clothes and accessories? >> No.

If you have a job, do you get along with your co-workers? >> ---

What kind of hobbies do you have? >> Just your average ones.

Would anything in the whole world make you give up any of those hobbies? >> I really can’t imagine why I would have to.

Have you had/do you have any pets? >> Yes.

Do you even like animals? >> I like them a whole lot more when they’re out in the wild, but we all make sacrifices, huh.

If you aren't already, would you ever get married? If so, what for? >> ---

If you are already married, what was the ultimate reason for the marriage? >> Legality. For instance: I have no family, so who else is going to be able to advocate for me at the hospital if I am incapacitated and unable to advocate for myself?

As a child, did you do anything really bad? If so, what was it? What were the consequences? >> Not to my knowledge.

As a teenager, did you do anything really bad? If so, what was it? What were the consequences? >> No, but I sure had a lot of bad things done to me.

Do you have a problem with authority? >> Sometimes.

What's your favourite comic strip? >> I don’t read comic strips anymore.

Is there a piece of clothing you absolutely must wear every day? >> Underwear, like, in general...

Has a doctor ever told you to lose weight? >> No.

Have you ever been diagnosed with a lifelong disease? >> No.

What is something you absolutely hate? >> Meh.

What about something you absolutely love? >> Spider-Man: Into the Spider-Verse. (A song from the soundtrack is playing on my Spotify right now, lol.)

#surveys #survey #random survey

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silvernmoonshipping-is-love · 5 years

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DrownedSilver Week Day 4: Family

WARNING: Child abuse/Child neglect

The light from the orange evening-sky turning into beams through the window, illuminating multiple spots of the kinda messy children's room mixed with the occasional sound from a videogame or the buttons of the controller being pushed was quite comforting. No stress, no noise, just this. Ben kept exploring the fictional world, quite a tad excitedly, slashing monsters along the way, not fully aware anymore how thissmall, but especially temporarily, joy being soon ripped apart like so often. Too indulged in the great fantasy landscapes he doesn't even fully register the door opening, until the shadow of the person lingering onto him almost made him shiver as if it was cold water. “Why are you playing?”, the voice of his mother making Ben flinch slightly as he looked up. Her look was stern and demanding for an answer. Ben hesitated with said one, but decided to swallow his anxiety for now. “Because it's fun”, he answered simply, shrugging, trying to act as normal as possible. His mother continued: “But didn't I tell you to do your homework?” “I already did it!”, Ben noticed the slight higher pitch, making his voice sound pleading almost, but ignored it for there having been no reason so far for any fear, “Look.”, he added and simply pointed to his desk, some books still lying there and his backpack leaning against the chair. Without a second glance she walked over, taking one of the books, looking through them. Ben's shoulders relax as his mother seems to not change her neutral expression, even letting out a small relieved sigh when she seemed pleased. “Yet I still didn't say that you could play after that, did I?” “Well, n-no, but-” Before he could continue his mother already rummaged through his backpack, not caring for her son's privacy. She took a certain folder from it, noticing the papers in there, making Ben freeze on the spot. “Mom, wait-” But he couldn't stop her as she opened it after carelessly throwing the back pack back down, flipping through the pages, her face darkening. “What are these tests and why have I not seen them before?” Ben was shaking, his mouth empty for words to explain. “I'm your parent! Shouldn't I know everything? You can't just hide something like this from us-” She stopped when her eyes fell back onto the papers, just now actually looking at the grades. “Oh?”, her voice laced with vicious intentions, “I see. You were ashamed of these grades, weren't you, Bentley?” Ben stayed silent. “You really thought by hiding them you would do us or yourself a favor? At least this thought explains your grades, because only stupid people come to that!” She stepped closer, Ben resisting every urge to move away from here, his mother presenting the paper right under his nose. “And those stupid doodle of these silly games you play?! Why would you do that? Stop wasting your time!” “I just-” “I told your father not to buy them for you. As we see they're clearly a bad influence. Do you want to constantly be a failure?!” “N-No”, Ben started, “B-But I just doodled them to calm me because of black-outs... Because I was hungry or tired-” He couldn't continue as he felt his hair being gripped and pulled, making him yelp. “Oh, so are you implying we're not caring for you properly?! Because we are! I do everything for you! I feed you, dress you and even gave birth to you and this is how you thank me, you ungrateful brat?! By hiding something from me and then accusing me of being a bad parent?! I'd rather have no kid than having you!”, his mother yelled, anger engulfing her voice fully. She started walking, still pulling on Ben's hair. “We'll talk with your father about this when he comes home.” Ben started shaking immensely, trying to remove his mother's grip and begging, tears threatening to spill but it was all in vain as he was thrown into his closet, the door locked shut. He knew crying for his mother to let him out or explain was useless, so instead he just curled up, sobbing, hoping his father will be tired enough when he comes back from work. * The silence of the apartment was so immense you could probably hear ants walking, but to Hibiki it wasn't anything unusual. His parents were gone, every day, every week, only coming home in the evenings or getting a glimpse of their figures in the mornings, unless it was the weekend, when they might as well just not exist. Hibiki wasn't too sure if he preferred that. His eyes always wandering back to the clock, waiting for it to strike 11 pm and the front door opening. Maybe today he will hear a 'We're home' and get a chat which lasted more than a few minutes with them, though this hope was given up long ago. He stood in the kitchen, getting ingredients for some simple dinner to eat, since like usual his parents forgot to lay any out. Just like lunch and often even breakfast. So Hibiki was forced to make his own. He must admit that he didn't mind that part too much, because cooking was honestly fun. Even if his parents never acknowledge it or thank him. Sometimes they even believed someone broke into their house or a ghost made them any food. Yet Hibiki continued, despite knowing it will be worthless in the end. After finishing he immediately silence his stomach, which has been 'whining' all day, sitting alone at the empty table, it feeling so vast from his perspective. During eating he got out his little notebook, which he kept for notes or poems in English, sometimes even as a replacement for a diary, writing into it, though careful not to spill any food on it's pages. Though Hibiki's flinch from the echoing click of the door almost caused said thing. However he quickly become excited, practically jumping off the chair and racing to the door like a pet having waited for it's owner. “Welcome home, mom and dad. Was work good?”, he he said, showing a polite smile. But it was ignored as they immediately went past him after taking off their shoes and into the living room, both completely exhausted. “Ah, eh... Dinner is in the oven like always. I made your favorite!” Nothing again. Hibiki noticed them turning on the TV and said it louder once more, maybe it was just drowning his voice out. At least he could hear some slight murmurs this time around. But he still didn't give up, putting his dirty dishes in the sink and grabbed his note book, getting to their side at the couch, not to fully block their view still. “I wrote something! Would you like to hear it?”, he asked, his parent's gazes too fixated on the flickering screen however. “Uh...”, he tried once more, “I got-” Hibiki was cut off by sudden laughter, not understanding what they found so funny playing there, but let them finish. “I got an A in English today!” Finally a reaction. Hibiki could feel pride swelling in his chest as both of them turned to face him. “Good job, Satou!”, his father said as his mom nodded congratulatory, then they turned their attention back to the show. Hibiki's once prideful feeling faded as he muttered, quiet like a whisper, holding his notebook close to this chest: “It's Hibiki...” But this isn't over, he got a determined look and stepped in front of the TV this time: “You, know, since in tw-” “Move, you're blocking the view”, his mother demanded. “Please, just listen.”, Hibiki pleaded, trying not to show that he's about to cry. They sighed annoyed, but settled back to listen. He exhaled before continuing: “I just... thought we could spend some time together, because in two days it's my birthday after all and I-” “Already?”, his mother asked, sounding surprised. “Yeah, will do. Now can we continue?”, his father bugged in, his answer not sounding sincere in the slightest, making Hibiki feel even more discouraged, but he reluctantly moved out of the view. Instead he stood besides them again, silent like them, the only voices coming from the TV as he tried composing himself. Repeating 'Don't cry' over and over in his head, despite his shoulders shaking. Knowing the outcome he tried one last time. “My bullies cornered me again.” “M-Hm.” 'Please.' “They threatened to break my arms.” "Okay." “They almost did, they could have been amputated!”, Hibiki exaggerated, trying to get at least one sight of concern, “They also took out knifes!” “That's nice, sweetie.” Enough is enough. He hung his head, bangs covering his eyes as he felt a tiny sob break out of his throat but then hurried in his room, slamming the door. * “Ha! I won!”, Cedric cheers proudly, hopping in the spot still holding the game controller. “No way! You must have used a trick, tell me!”, Silver demands playfully, huffing like a small child. Cedric responds with simply sticking out his tongue, causing his father to pull him close, ruffling his hair and tickling, making him giggle which turned into full on laughter right on. Ben sits on the couch, turning his focus onto them at the sound, his expression turning into an amused smile, seeing them this giddy together. “I want a rematch.”, Silver smirks while booping Cedric's noise, who still giggled. “Maybe!”, Cedric replied before getting doing the so called 'Puppy Eyes', “ But I'm hungry. Can I have a snack?” He wrapped his arms around his stomach, pretending like he was starving. “Cedric, you know we just had lunch, right?”, Ben said, still keeping the smile from watching the scene unfold. “We did?”, Cedric asked, confused. “Yeah and you even said you were full.” “Oh. ...Pleeaasse! Just a tiny snack!”, he pleads once more, snuggling up to Silver. Silver is clearly lost at words, knowing this is a fight he won't win that easily, even if Cedric may already be pretty spoiled from time to time. But for now he'll give in. “Okay, fine.”, Silver said, standing up still looking at his child whose face lights up. “However,”, he added, “This will be the last one for today until dinner.” Cedric immediately wants to protest, but Silver already having left made him pout and kept on sitting there on the floor. He was ready to mope around for the rest of the day, but quickly lost interest and instead turned around to Ben still lying on the couch, holding some sort of sketchbook. Curiosity overcomes him as he gets closer, trying to look. “What's Papa drawing?” Ben looks slightly shocked as he turns to him, as if he didn't expect him to ask, however smiled gently once more then and lets him climb up next to him to look. “Just some characters, nothing special.” “That one looks like Kirby!” “Yeah, he's easy.” Cedric, kept watching, snuggled close, his face barely readable whether he's truly interested or not until he gets up and moves a hand up to pat Ben's head. “Papa's a good artist!” Ben couldn't help but chuckle a little at that, putting Cedric's hand off him before pulling him closer for a hug. “Will Papa join the next round?”, Cedric asked, pointing to the console still being on. “Sure!”, he answered, nuzzling Cedric's forehead with his. Then Cedric hops off, racing towards Silver to get his desired snack. His innocent excitement seemingly bringing warmth to this once broken and cold-hearted concept called 'family'.

#drownedsilver week #drownedsilver week 2019 #fic #fanfic #lovechild #tw: abuse #tw: child abuse #creepypasta #pokepasta #gamepasta #gaming creepypasta

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ellanainthetardis · 6 years

Photo

Let’s be honest, it couldn’t stay fluff up until the end...

[ff] or [ao3]

72. 22 Months & 10 Months

“Blue, really, do you think?” Effie hummed, accepting the color pencil April handed her. Half of the kitchen table was occupied by pencils, felt-tip pens and stacks of white papers. The almost two year-old loved to draw picture after picture and the fridge was covered with what could only be described as abstract art. Effie had been distractedly sketching an evening gown that would never see the light of day because nobody in Twelve would order one. Apparently, it was to be a blue gown.

“When isn’t it blue?” Haymitch snorted from the stove where he was stirring the tomato sauce for the pasta that were boiling in another pot for lunch. He had a point. April loved blue. Every declination of it.

“Bue best.” April beamed, slamming her own blue pencil on the drawing she was working on – a blue tangle of lines.

“Is the best, darling.” Effie corrected.

Their daughter looked up at her with a focused expression on her young face and then looked back down at her drawing. And yet, Effie knew that the next time she used that phrasing, more likely than not there would at least be a verb in there. Her speech abilities were advanced for her age, Larcher had confirmed it.

And it made Effie and Haymitch so proud they could burst.

They had very gifted children.

And Aidan demonstrated that by using the cupboard’s handle to stand up from where he had been sitting in the corner of the kitchen, trying to interest Snowball into playing with him. The dog hadn’t really been in the mood but had indulged the boy in a game of tug with his purple monkey.

Aidan was unsteady on his legs still but he could take a few steps alone before crashing down.

Effie dropped the pencil and opened her arms, grinning wide when her son’s lips stretched into a bright smile and he stumbled toward her. It was a short distance and he collapsed into her arms with a delighted laugh.

“Well done!” she praised, peppering his face with kisses.

“Apil too!” April exclaimed, bolting from her chair to run around the table, stretching her arms above her head. Effie hauled her on her other knee with the ease of practice and started kissing and tickling her too. Soon, she had two children in hysterics on her lap and Snowball was barking, jumping around her chair, clearly more interested in that sort of games. After a couple of minutes, April twisted around and outstretched a hand toward Haymitch. “Dada!” she half-screeched, half-giggled. “Dada, hep!”

“Oh, Dada must help, yeah?” Haymitch chuckled, lowering the flames under the pot so it wouldn’t burn before making a show of slowly stalking toward them. “But does Dada have to help the shrimp and the jellyfish or Mama?”

“Mama!” Effie requested, playfully pretending to bite Aidan’s ear. “I think we should have them for lunch, Haymitch. They look tasty.”

April screamed in fake terror. “Hep Apil! Hep Apil!”

“I don’t know, little princess…” Haymitch wriggled his eyebrows. “The two of you do look tasty!” He pounced, then, pretending to eat the children while kissing them and tickling them at the same time. Effie made sure to keep a strong hold on them so there would be no accident but they were wriggling like worms on a hook.

Aidan was laughing hard, not quite following the game but happy to play nonetheless.

“Balls!” the girl called, out of breath from too much laughter.

Snowball immediately barked in answer and lifted on his hinder legs, propping his front paws on Haymitch’s side. He didn’t growl or even made any sign that he was about to attack but his desire was clear: he wanted Haymitch to step away from April.

“I’m just playing, you silly dog.” he mocked. He shrugged the Samoyed off but took the time to scratch him behind the ears. “I think Mama’s more tasty anyway… What do you say, kids? Should we eat Mama?”

“Yes!” April shouted and, helped in no little way by Haymitch, started taking her revenge by tickling Effie’s side and her neck.

She wasn’t particularly ticklish but she couldn’t help but laugh, straining her neck to escape the little hands and Haymitch stronger ones. Aidan was the only one who didn’t turn against her and tried to help her attack his sister instead.

It was in that joyful chaos that the phone started ringing.

“Enough…” Effie begged. “I surrender.”

“We win!” Haymitch triumphed, grabbing April by the waist and lifting her high over his head to the girl’s obvious delight.

Effie shook her head but she knew it was only a way to take the girl off her hands without making it too obvious that Aidan was still on her lap – the two were thick as thieves but there were some jealousy problems between the two of them sometimes – so she bit back her instinct to remind him to be careful.

He was always careful with their children anyway.

He propped April up on his hip when they reached the phone and picked it up, his grey eyes still alive with mirth and the simple happiness that always shone in them when he spent time with their babies. Effie could only relate. Lately, she had felt completely happy too.

“Hello?” he said in the phone in that tone that meant he expected to talk to her mother – because Elindra was the house’s main caller.

She arranged Aidan on her lap and let him grab one of the pencil, quickly switching a few blank papers for her half done gown design and making sure he didn’t draw on the table. She had spent hours trying to get the felt-tip pens squiggles from the glass coffee table the other day and she wasn’t too keen on a repeat. If April’s art could only be described as abstract, Aidan’s was barely more than random lines crisscrossing, he lacked the dexterity to do much else.

“Plutarch.” Haymitch made a face in Effie’s direction and she pouted, silently telling him to be nice. It wasn’t that she was particularly well disposed toward the former Gamemaker because he tended to be very liberal about what he let the press print about them but he had his uses and he never begrudged them a favor if he could grant it. Haymitch rolled his eyes but shrugged, jostling April and making her giggle as if it was still part of the game. “No, it’s not that I’m not glad to hear you, it’s just that when you call, it usually means I’m not gonna like tomorrow’s headlines.”

It had been months since the last mention of Twelve’s celebrities in the newspapers, since the children’s engagement had become official. The star-crossed lovers being finally about to properly tie the knot had been on the front of every magazine for weeks – and had puzzled some people since they had been pretending to be married during the war. They hadn’t made the headlines for a while but every time paparazzi managed to sneak a picture of them with their children, Haymitch raged against Plutarch’s hypocrisy.

Truth be told, the Capitol’s hands seemed only tied when it suited him.

She couldn’t begin to guess what they had done now that warranted a phone call from the Secretary of Communications. She wasn’t pregnant, she hadn’t killed anyone, they weren’t having a secret wedding and she hadn’t had a public panic attack. She hadn’t had a panic attack in months actually. Life was good and peaceful, which meant that they were boring to the press, which suited her perfectly.

Unless it was about Lyssa’s engagement but she didn’t see why Plutarch would call to warn them. Lyssa was famous in her own right, just like her mother was. She was sure her name would be mentioned once her sister released the announcement but it should be all about Lyssandra not…

“What about it?” Haymitch frowned and then scoffed. “No, I don’t plan on coming. I haven’t come the last four years why would I…”

“Where does he want you to go?” Effie asked, wrapping her arms more tightly around her son. She didn’t like the thought of him going anywhere.

“The fifth anniversary of the surrender.” he explained for her. “Apparently, it’s gonna be huge this year.”

“It would be.” she hummed. “Five years is a milestone.”

Not to mention, elections would take place not long after that for the second time since the war and, from what she had seen on news channel, it wouldn’t be as much of an easy win as Paylor probably wished for.

“What?” Haymitch asked, clearly distracted by Plutarch. Then his face really turned sour. “Oh, yeah, we have that…” He glanced at Effie. “He’s asking if we can put him on video and speaker. You mind?”

She glanced around the kitchen, took in the mess that never used to be there before – a lived-in mess of toys, bottles, children winter boots and woolen mittens – a mess she was usually ashamed to show anyone who wasn’t their family or Eileen Clarke’s but just like she had resigned herself to bring her customers in the slightly untidy house, she granted permission with a wave of her hand.

The new phone had been a gift from her parents, the latest Capitol technology and Haymitch’s newfound most hatred object. It could work as a phone usually did but it also had a square screen and a camera that allowed to see and be seen if that was one’s wish. He had only relented faced with her parents’ fears that the children would forget what they looked like and that they wouldn’t otherwise be allowed to see them grow up. It had been pure emotional manipulation on her mother’s part but, for some mysterious reason that she attributed to something that had happened during her second pregnancy while she was trapped in the clinic, Haymitch was now firmly considering Elindra like a part of their family and let himself be manipulated more easily than before.

Haymitch tinkered with the settings, always a bit hesitant when it came to handling the new phone, and suddenly Plutarch Heavensbee’s face appeared on the screen. He looked older, Effie immediately noticed, and if she wasn’t mistaken he had had some Botox shots done. He was sitting in what she assumed to be his office given the bay windows she could glimpse behind him. There were skyscrapers in the distance but she couldn’t identify them.

April, who was used to seeing her grandparents or her aunt and nobody else on that screen, immediately hid her face in the crook of Haymitch’s neck.

“Oh, hello there, little lady!” Plutarch beamed with a genuine smile. “Why, you look just like your mother…”

April took another peek at the former Head Gamemaker and then pressed her face against Haymitch’s woolen sweater again. “Who he, Dada?”

“A friend.” Haymitch answered even though the word clearly cost him.

“Good morning, Plutarch.” Effie greeted politely, standing up so she could be in the camera’s line of sight. She kept Aidan in her arms but the boy wanted to wriggle free and, eventually, she placed him down, letting him crawl back to the dog. Snowball bumped his head against the boy’s and then crouched low, wriggling this way and that, leading Aidan on a merry crawl chase all around the kitchen. Effie smiled but returned her attention to the phone. “I trust you and Fulvia are well?”

“In perfect health.” Plutarch assured. “And yourself?”

“We are all doing very well, thank you.” she answered.

Haymitch rolled his eyes.

“So polite.” he muttered as if it was a bad thing. He crouched and put April back on her feet, gently detaching her arms from his neck. “Why don’t you go play with your brother and Balls, sweetheart?”

“Don’t encourage that nickname.” Effie pleaded because her daughter shouting for balls in the street had drawn more than one stare.

“Your children are positively cute.” Plutarch declared.

He sounded sincere and Effie was never one to pass on an opportunity to accept compliments about them so she grinned. “They are.”

“So? What were you saying about the victory anniversary?” Haymitch said, once he had convinced April to go play with Aidan and the dog.

He kept an eye on the three of them but he also moved back to the stove to turn it even lower so the sauce wouldn’t burn. Katniss was supposed to come over for lunch, she thought, and Peeta too if he could get away from the bakery and, between the lot of them, they went through more food than they used to. There needed to be something on the table in twenty minutes and preferably nothing charred.

Plutarch sighed and played with something on the top of his desk just out of the camera’s range, maybe a pen or a paperknife. “I was saying it would be opportune for you and the children to attend. And, before you ask, Johanna, Annie, Beetee and Enobaria will be my next calls although if Enobaria declines to attend I won’t be too sorry. Her position in the war was ambiguous. The rest of the Star Squad all confirmed they are coming.”

Haymitch let out a snort. “Want to reunite the whole gang?”

“It is an election year, Haymitch.” the Head Gamemaker sighed. “And President Paylor herself asked me to call you in hopes… You still support her, do you not?”

Haymitch and Effie exchanged a long glance. She wasn’t interested in politics, she never really had been, but that was a topic Haymitch could be very passionate about – and on the subject of which he had shared numerous debates and fights with Peeta, her father and sometimes Lyssa’s boyfriend – she knew he disagreed with some of Paylor’s policies, the ones he attributed to a need to accumulate political capital rather than doing the right thing.

There were a lot of debates about what Paylor had managed to accomplish in the last five years lately. Mostly, it seemed to be positive but there were still sore points, like the welfare system. Amongst other things, the fact that wealthy people had access to medical technology an average insurance couldn’t hope to cover divided the country. Her main opponent, if she wasn’t mistaken, was campaigning for a more equal repartition of resources – which in her opinion didn’t seem fairer at all given that it would be brought through taxes.

“Yeah.” he said after a few seconds, crossing his arms in front of his chest. “I still do. But I don’t see how…”

“If you follow the news, you know her main challenger is a man from Thirteen.” Plutarch cut him off.

“I’ve seen a few of his speeches and I’ve read about his program. Not anywhere as bad as Coin.” Haymitch dismissed. “A bit more conservative than Paylor but he didn’t trigger any alarm.”

“That is not the point.” the Capitol countered.

Effie started losing interest in the conversation. She knew it could go on and on forever when those two started talking politics so she gathered the papers and the pencils and cleared the table so she could get it ready for lunch.

“Seems the point to me.” Haymitch shrugged. “If he’s not a tyrant…”

“Do you want to see Patina reelected or not?” Plutarch argued. “According to the polls we have running… The Capitol, One and Two are going to be decisive.”

“Don’t see how us coming to the anniversary’s gonna help.” he grumbled and lifted his hand before the Capitol could object. “Yeah, I know. Optics. It’s good for her to be seen with victors and famous rebels, never mind the Mockingjay. You’re gonna lose Thirteen though.”

“Thirteen is already lost to Danos.” Plutarch shook his head. “So is Eight, Four and Ten. We’re hoping having Annie over will help with Four but… Truly, the swing Districts will be One, Two and the Capitol.” Hence the invitation extended to Enobaria, Effie figured, placing plates on the table. “Haymitch, if we are going to win this, we need a show of unity. We need you at the anniversary events. There will be a commemoration ceremony… We’re having a monument in Capitol Park with the names of fallen soldiers… There will be interviews too but we can limit Katniss’ and Peeta’s participation to that, I promise.”

“You get I have a two year-old and a ten months baby, yeah?” he scoffed.

Plutarch lifted his hands as if it was no problem at all. “Everything will be taken care of. We can arrange for babysitters and nannies for your children and Finn Odair. Lodgings will naturally be provided too. I was thinking perhaps your old quarters at the Training Center…”

“No.” The word passed Effie’s lips without her consent and she paused, her fist bundled around a handful of forks. The two men had stopped talking and she was aware of their dual gazes on her but she simply cleared her throat and resumed dressing the table. “If we are doing this, we are not staying in the penthouse. Do I need to remind you what was going on underneath the Games Compound? I do not understand why you haven’t tear that building apart yet.”

She wasn’t entirely surprised by the venom in her own voice but she slowly breathed out, forcing her erratic heartbeat to something calmer. Her eyes fell on the children playing a game of roll the-more-than-wiling dog on the floor and she relaxed.

It was long ago, she reminded herself, it is over now. Over.

Haymitch’s gaze lingered on her long after Plutarch had awkwardly coughed.

“Of course.” the Head Gamemaker said. “My apologies. It was insensitive.”

“Yes.” she said simply, fetching glasses from the cupboard. “It was.”

She glanced through the window over the sink, checking the grey sky, wary of more snow coming down. February had been plagued by short snowing sessions that left the ground muddy with patches of ice. Winter didn’t seem in any hurry to die.

“Say, I’m willing to come…” Haymitch let his sentence trail off, probably waiting for her to interrupt.

She didn’t. She understood that he had been more or less cast aside at the end of Katniss’ trial, when he had volunteered to be her guardian, but that, initially, he would have liked to have been involved. He had fought for that new government and he had his own set of ideas. If things had been different… She wouldn’t object to him getting involved now if that was what he wanted to do. He liked Patina Paylor and if he wanted to support her more actively…

“It would be a huge help.” Plutarch breathed out.

“What about my wife?” he challenged, making Effie frown at him. “Cause I know you and your politician tricks. She ain’t exactly a point that’s likely to make people scream unity. If you make us come all the way over to the city only to ask her to keep a low profile…”

“Effie is more than welcome to appear with you.” the Secretary of Communication eagerly assured. “In fact…” The Capitol winced and then cleared his throat, his attention turning to Effie. “My dear, I am afraid I have news that may upset you as well as an offer… The decision is entirely up to you, understand, we will not force your hand. Despite what her advisors would have us do, President Paylor and I stood very firmly on that, the decision is yours alone but I must stress it would be a tremendous help if you…”

“What are you talking about?” Haymitch barked, far too aggressively.

“Dada?” April asked, a touch of uncertain fear in her tone.

Haymitch hardly ever raised his voice in the children’s vicinity. They weren’t used to it.

“Everything is fine, sweetheart.” Effie promised with a loving smile she had to force a little. “Do not worry. I think Snowball would like to play some more, don’t you?” April’s attention wasn’t so easily averted but instead of running to one of them, she wrapped her arms around her brother’s shoulders and hugged him like she did with her stuffed toys. Her eyes remained on Effie until Snowball distracted her with a lick on her face. When Effie was sure her daughter wasn’t listening anymore, she stepped closer to Haymitch and placed a hand on his shoulder. “I am fine.”

“Until he upsets you.” he mumbled, too low for Plutarch to hear. “This is gonna be bullshit, I can smell it.”

She squeezed his shoulder and turned to the screen. “What is it you would have me do?”

The former Gamemaker lowered his eyes and played with whatever it was, betraying how nervous he was. Whatever they wanted to ask her, he knew Haymitch wasn’t going to like it. “You heard of the AFCR, I presume? The Association For Capitol Recognition?”

There was a lump in her throat and she leaned against Haymitch’s side a little but jutted her chin in the air. “I will not dispute their claim that some Capitol people were victims in this war, Plutarch. I will not lie to cover how out of hands the Purge became and I will not say no Capitol were tortured by Snow’s government despite what Thirteen would have us believe.”

Haymitch’s arm sneaked around her waist and held her firmly to him.

“We are not asking you to, Effie, you misunderstand.” Plutarch denied. “At the commemoration, President Paylor is going to give credit to Calmus Caldwell’s claims and publicly acknowledge that Capitol citizens were detained, tortured and killed during the war and that, of those who survived that treatment, some of them were afterwards killed in the Purge. She will acknowledge that the Purge was little more than a revenge bloodbath, that there was no more justice in shooting the defenseless eighty year-old escorts and Gamemakers than there had been in sending children to arenas. She will also acknowledge that while some met their fair end during the trials, some had been forced into the Games business the same way victors were. She will, in short, acknowledge that there were zones of grey in this war and it is going to cause no small amount of uproar, I believe.”

Both she and Haymitch remained speechless for a while because this was huge.

And then Haymitch let out a bitter snort. “The Capitol, One and Two… That’s who you need so that’s how you get them.”

Because One and Two were the most Capitol friendly Districts.

Politics.

Suddenly, the idea of leaving Twelve, her house, behind to go back to the city and its smoke screens and mirrors left her nauseous. Ever since the conversation had begun, she had thought she might be able to do it now, that it would be a good opportunity to grant her mother’s request for a visit because Tadius and Elindra kept making the trip and it wasn’t quite fair… A part of her was curious because according to her sister the Capitol looked like a completely different city… But now that she was reminded of how fake everything always was there…

She wasn’t sure she wanted to bring her children there, not even for a few days.

“Always the cynic, Haymitch.” Plutarch rebuked. “Paylor is doing this because it is the right thing to do and it might be her last opportunity. If Danos is elected, there will be a power shift toward Thirteen and good luck to the Capitol then.”

“And I’m supposed to care because…” Haymitch scowled.

“Because I do.” Effie finished before Plutarch could. She rubbed her forehead. She truly hadn’t missed that sort of games. “It was not that upsetting a news. What was it you wanted me to do, then?”

“Ah…” Plutarch winced. “I am afraid I haven’t got to the upsetting news yet. Again, I want you to know you do not have to do anything you do not want to do. If you decide to stay in the Victors Village where you are safe from the media circus… I would not hold it against you and I will shield you as much as I can, I promise.”

“What the fuck are you going to do?” Haymitch hissed, tightening his hold on her waist.

She whacked his arm. “The children.”

Haymitch’s grey eyes darted to their children but soon came back to Plutarch. “Spit it out.”

“It is not me, personally.” the Head Gamemaker shook his head. “I was actually against it. Paylor always advocated an open book presidency, in the interest of transparency. In the wake of that announcement… The war archives will be made public so that the families of people who were executed after the war but who had actually been tortured by the Capitol can find their peace and know the truth. The list of captives, the list of…”

“No.” Effie cut him off, trying to take a step back but only bumping into the kitchen counter. The walls were closing in on her and her ears were ringing. It had been so long since the last time it had gotten that bad that…

Haymitch turned her around and brushed her hair back, framing her face in his hands. “Breathe, sweetheart.”

She focused on him and blinked fast, working to keep her breathing steady. Once he was sure she wasn’t going to have a panic attack, he looked past her shoulder to the screen. “You can’t do this. You release her name, they’re gonna pounce on her. You know what it’s gonna be like! We have kids for fuck’s sake!” He shouted the last part and Aidan started crying, scared by the raised voice. April’s lips were wobbling too. “Shit.” he spat and let go of Effie to march to their children. He lifted both of them easily, one in each arm, and pressed a quick kiss on their daughter’s head before nuzzling Aidan’s blond hair. “I’m sorry. Papa’s sorry. It’s alright. Everything’s alright…”

“If my name comes out…” Effie whispered and then she repeated it louder so Plutarch could hear her over the boy’s crying. “If my name comes out…”

“Please, believe me, I am deeply sorry.” Plutarch insisted. “I suggested redacting some of the names from the list for privacy reasons. You are not the only one on that list I would rather protect from that kind of attention… My request was denied. Apparently, transparency cannot be redacted.”

Plutarch snorted that last part with bitterness and some weariness.

Haymitch was staring at her, their children close to his chest. “We’re not going. We’re staying here. We’ll… We’re gonna stock up on food and we’ll wait for the storm to pass, yeah? Elections are in less than two months… It’s gonna blow over fast.”

But it wouldn’t.

And hiding wasn’t a solution.

Perhaps it would save them from the press for a little while but when they eventually ventured out of the Village…

Everyone would know.

They would look at her and they would know. Everything she had been through, they would know.

Perhaps the government would only release the names but how long before the details were leaked? Every humiliating word, every insult, every time they had spat on her or peed on her just for the fun of it… Everything that had been perhaps worse than the physical pain of being torn apart.

They would know.

Everyone would know.

She was going to have to walk to the grocery store, look at the nice man who owned it and see the pity in his gaze. Every man and woman whose eyes she would happen to meet in the streets, she would see the knowledge in their eyes. And she would never be able to forget. Because it would be forever there, on their faces.

And it wouldn’t be just pity.

It would be hatred. The satisfaction that she had gotten what she deserved.

“What do you advise?” she asked Plutarch, resolutely ignoring Haymitch. Because Haymitch would want to protect her to the last and she wasn’t sure there was any way of protecting her that didn’t involve facing the reality of the situation.

Her dirty secret.

She had always known it would come back to haunt her, always.

“I advise accepting our offer. Take a hold on the story before it takes a hold on you.” the Head Gamemaker said gently.

“You need someone famous to confirm the AFCR’s claims.” she deduced. “You need someone with firsthand knowledge, so to speak.”

“If you are agreeable, we would have you make a speech before Paylor’s acknowledgement.” Plutarch confirmed. “You could… Honestly, I think it would be the time to properly clear your name, to explain why you were pardoned. Whatever crime people felt you committed, you paid for it down in those cells, Effie, I firmly believe that it would turn Panem’s opinion about you.”

“I do not care much for Panem’s opinion.” she snorted with some bitterness.

It hadn’t always been like that but now… Now the only opinions that mattered…

She looked at Haymitch who was simply standing there, the now calmer children still in his arms. Her family.

She wanted to be strong for them. She didn’t want to be the escort who escaped execution because she was Haymitch Abernathy’s lover. She wasn’t sure being the escort who escaped execution because she had been tortured to a breath of her sanity was better but… At least it was the truth and she found she was ready to acknowledge it.

She had been hiding what had happened to her for so long…

It was a weight around her neck, the dirty secret that made her feel filthy and weak…

“What do you think?” she asked Haymitch.

He studied her for a long time before shrugging. “I think I took the decision for you once and I don’t want to do it again. You want to do it, I’m gonna be right beside you. You don’t want to, I’m gonna make sure they don’t come near our family. Your choice, Princess. I’m with you no matter what.”

She held his gaze, swallowing hard around the heart that seemed to be beating in her throat. “I think I need to.”

“We can have someone write something for you…” Plutarch suggested.

“No.” she denied. “If I do it… It will be my story, my words.” She licked her lips and twisted her shaking hands this way and that. “They will want interviews. After…”

“You won’t have to do anything you do not want to.” the Capitol promised. “I will make sure they leave you alone. I can only do so much, please understand. I know you sometimes think I control every newspaper in Panem but it is a free country now, I cannot very well advocate for democracy and then tell them what to print but… I will do my best. And we can have you shipped back on a hovercraft at a moment notice if you feel the need to go home.”

“Alright.” she whispered, aware that Haymitch was coming closer. She melted against his side, pressing her face against their daughter’s back. The children looked puzzled, clearly picking up on the tension. It wasn’t long before Snowball came to lean against her leg, offering silent support. Surrounded by her family, she felt brave, braver than she had felt in a long time. “I will do it.”

Plutarch nodded once and then turned to Haymitch. “I assume that means you will make an appearance at the anniversary, then?”

“The two of us for sure.” he grumbled. “I ain’t speaking for the kids. And April and Aidan stay out of the spotlight, yeah? Tell your minions… Tell them I’ll record an exclusive interview if everyone agrees to leave my babies alone. No stolen pictures, no harassing them, no following them around in the city.”

It was a major concession but that was the game. You didn’t get anything if you were not ready to compromise.

She was already tired of the whole thing.

“That seems completely acceptable to me.” the Head Gamemaker agreed. “Do try to convince Katniss and Peeta.”

Haymitch rolled his eyes and handed the children to Effie before stalking to the phone. “Bye, Plutarch.” It wasn’t exactly polite but he just hung up and the screen faded to black. Then, he turned to her. “You’re okay?”

She took a deep breath and then offered him a shaky smile. “I think so.”

“Going back to the Capitol…” he hesitated.

“I do not like it much either.” she offered and then she placed April and Aidan down on their respective chairs. “We will stay at my parents’ if it is alright with you. Or at Lyssa’s if you prefer. I do not want to go to a hotel. I…”

“It’s fine with me.” he cut her off. “Whatever.” He sneaked his arms around her waist and held her close, coiling his hand around the back of her neck. “As long as you’re sure it’s okay.”

“You will be with me and I will be safe.” she countered. “We will be safe.”

He answered that with a kiss that had April clapping in delight and Aidan wrinkling his little nose because he wanted to be the only one to get cuddles from his mama.

The children barged in at that point, laughing and carefree like they had been before that phone call. It didn’t last. As soon as they glimpsed their faces, both of them grew apprehensive.

“What happened?” Katniss asked, grabbing Peeta’s hand.

“Sit down and let’s have lunch before it is entirely burned.” Effie sighed. “We will tell you all about it.”

Haymitch did most of the talking. She mostly pushed her pastas all around her plate, staring at her glass of water or helping April eat without putting food everywhere. She felt Peeta’s knowing gaze on her a few times but she never glanced back.

“And you’re going, then?” the boy finally asked, once Haymitch had finished explaining.

“Yes.” she said directly to her plate of pasta. “I am. But do not feel you have to. I am sure the anniversary events will be fabulous but I know how much you dislike parties and…”

“That’s not about the parties or the anniversary, Effie.” Katniss cut her off. “It’s about you. What you’re going to do… It’s huge.”

“Paylor’s announcement will certainly make history.” she granted.

“No.” the girl countered again. “It’s huge for you.”

Effie licked her lips but still did not look up, not even when she felt Haymitch take her hand.

“What Katniss means…” Peeta declared after a few seconds of silence. “Is that, of course, we’re coming. We want to be there to support you.”

Stupid tears burned her eyes and Haymitch’s squeezing her hand didn’t help one bit. It did not help either when Peeta stood up and walked around the table to hug her and she completely lost it when Katniss did the same.

Nerves.

It was all nerves and she got the tears under control before it turned to an embarrassing display but...

“I love you all so much.” she confessed.

Her family.

They made her feel like she could move mountains.

#hayffie #effie trinket #haymitch abernathy #april showers

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duskfloret · 6 years

Text

Freedom to love should never be questioned.

↳ The Blythe Saga, part 4 / ?

Blythe spent a good hour complaining about how Theon never told her he had such a cute little sister. Theon listened as he ate breakfast the Monday after they spent the weekend at his house. He couldn’t say there was a definite reason aside from maybe the fact that she’d never asked about his family aside from questions about his mom. Instead of explaining, he just nodded along and he agreed that any good older brother would brag about having such a cute little sister.

“If you want to see her again,” he interjected after awhile, “you can come over this weekend.”

“Oh.” Blythe shifted in her seat and looked down at her empty plate, fiddling with her spoon. “I’d love to, but I have plans. Can I take a rain check?”

He nodded. “Of course. Just let me know.”

Theon didn’t understand Jackson. They’d developed a sort of friendship after failing to cook dinner one night--though he still shuddered at the memory of inhaling smoke--and talked to each other on a fairly regular basis, but when Jackson asked about Blythe, Theon failed to see the point he was trying to make.

“I’m tutoring her in math,” he explained for what was surely the fifth time. He failed to mention that she was tutoring him too, simply because he didn’t want to explain why. “It’s not that interesting.”

“For just tutoring her, you guys spend a lot of time together.”

He shrugged. “Well, we’re friends, too. Why?”

Jackson shrugged too, and then they passed by his door and parted ways, and Theon wondered if maybe his and Blythe’s mutual friends were reading too far into their relationship.

Busy with papers and studying, he and Blythe didn’t see each other much for the rest of the week. The weekend passed, as uneventful as a couple days spent with his cousin could possibly be, and they saw each other for breakfast again on Monday. While she presented the cafeteria staff with a warm smile, it seemed hollower when they sat down to each.

“Are you okay?” he asked. He’d expected to hear about her weekend, as she always informed him of anything she did, but she had yet to mention it despite saying earlier that she’d had plans.

She looked up, blinked. “Oh, yeah, fine. Sorry, I’m just a little distracted. You were saying?”

At the apology, he raised an eyebrow. Now that was unlike her. “It’s fine.” He opened his mouth to continue but hesitated for a moment before deciding to go for it. “I don’t want to pry, but if something’s bothering you and you want to talk about it, I don’t mind listening.”

“You’re sweet.” Blythe smiled at him, and though small, he could tell it was genuine. “It’s... nothing worth making a big deal about. But I appreciate the offer, Theon. Thank you.”

Theon knew that was a lie: if it wasn’t a big deal, she wouldn’t be upset about it. If she didn’t feel comfortable talking to her about it, however, he wouldn’t press the issue. Instead, he changed the subject to how Pyrrha dragged him around for hours looking for stray cats to pet, and he hoped that the distraction helped her feel better.

Blythe had, for once, been indulging her negative impulses by lying on her bed and staring up at the ceiling with eyes full of existential dread when she heard a knock at her door. With a shout of, “Coming!” she sat up, stretched, and stood to go answer the door. Though she hadn’t expected company to begin with, she certainly didn’t expect to see Theon. “Oh--hey. What’s up?”

He held out a bag to her, and when she raised an eyebrow, he explained, “It’s butter pecan.”

That was all he had to say for her to snatch the bag from him and look inside to see a small tub of ice cream and a plastic fork. Without thinking, she stepped forward and wrapped her arms around him, burying her face into his shirt. He stiffened, then relaxed and returned the hug.

“You should eat that before it melts,” he said after a minute. She pulled back with a sheepish smile before she blinked in surprise as he lifted a hand and brushed a finger across her cheekbone, just below her eye. Her face heated up, first at the unexpected contact and then out of embarrassment when she realised that her eyes were watering. Mumbling something incoherent, she dried them with her sleeve. “Are you sure you’re okay?”

Blythe busied herself with taking out the ice cream, opening the tub, and scooping out a spoonful. “Yeah,” she mumbled right before taking a bite of the dessert. She held up the tub and nodded towards it. “This is the solution to all my problems, and you’re absolutely my saviour. I feel better already.”

Theon smiled. “I’m glad.” She debated inviting him in, but it was late and he probably needed to get some sleep. Before she could come to a decision, he asked, “Are you free this weekend?”

Swallowing another spoonful of ice cream, she hummed, feigning contemplation. “Well, I could be. It all depends. Are you free this weekend?”

He snorted and leaned against her door frame--a sign of weariness, she’d observed. “Well, no. I have my hands full with a kid who likes to drag me around and disappear if I don’t keep a close eye on her.”

“Sounds like you could use an extra set of eyes.”

“It sure does.”

She saluted him. “I’ll be packed and ready to go at eight o’clock sharp.”

“You still have a few days to get ready.” He rolled his eyes. “I’ll leave you to your ice cream in the meantime.”

“I’ll most certainly be enjoying my soulmate.”

Theon gave her an odd look but otherwise didn’t question her statement.

“Truth or dare.”

Theon glanced up from the notes he’d been reading over, then looked at the math book Blythe shoved aside. “Are you finished already?” They’d fallen into the routine of studying together at least once a week--outside of their normal tutoring sessions, of course.

While she enjoyed the quiet time together, she, in a word, was bored of math. “Not yet, but it’s easy to burn out if you study nonstop all day. A break won’t hurt.” She smiled. “So, truth or dare.”

“Truth,” he decided after a moment, and he bookmarked his page before closing his notebook.

There were plenty of things she wanted to know about Theon Marlowe, from his likes and dislikes to his favourite memories to his romantic inclinations. The latter would be an inappropriate place to start, so she settled for something simple. “Cats or dogs?”

He leaned back, ran a hand through his hair in a way that obscured his glasses (she’d cheered internally upon seeing him wear them again) before he readjusted them. “I don’t really have a preference. Maybe cats, if I have to pick? Bo likes them a lot, and I like seeing her excited about them.”

How sentimental. She expected nothing less. When he said nothing else, she prompted, “Your turn.”

“Oh. Truth or dare?”

“Truth.” There weren’t many dares they could do in a library, after all. Maybe she should have just suggested a game of twenty questions? Ah, but that had a limit, and she wanted to know as much as possible.

“What did rocky road ever do to you?”

Taken aback by the question, she snorted out a laugh. Who could say he didn’t have a sense of humour? “Rocky road owes me five dollars. Truth or dare?”

“Truth.”

Albeit tempted to return the question by asking him what he had against butter pecan, she settled for something a little more serious. “When you get a fancy job or own a company or whatever, what’s the main thing you want to do with your money?” It didn’t have the same weight as his opinion on butter pecan, but it was an important question nonetheless.

Tilting his head, he tapped his pencil against his notebook, and after a moment of contemplation, he said, “I want to take a proper bath.” He sighed, subtly dramatic. “I can’t fit into a standard-sized bathtub, but it seems like it’d be relaxing. Also, I’d remodel the counters in my house to be a few inches higher so I won’t have to bend over as much throughout the day.”

You dork. Her stomach turned, but in a pleasant way she’d never experienced before. Great. “I’m glad you have your priorities in order.” She couldn’t say she understood his tall people problems, though she did support him being happy.

“I’ve learned what’s important. Truth or dare.”

“Truth.”

“What do you plan on doing once you graduate?”

She’d half-expected another silly question. In fact, she would have preferred one over what he did ask. “My family owns a manufacturing company. I’m majoring in business, and then I’ll work for them and inherit the company in the future.” Fortunately, she’d long since gotten used to hiding her displeasure about that fact.

“Oh.” Theon blinked. “I’d assumed you wanted to be a chef.”

Shifting her weight, she fiddled with her sleeve and stared down at her hands. “That’s... more of a hobby.” She cursed herself for hesitating. Maybe she could play it off as embarrassment? “Just something to enjoy in the meantime, you know.” He opened his mouth to speak, but she cut him off. “Anyway, truth or dare?”

“Truth.”

“Have you ever...” She wanted to ask if he liked anyone; however, that was too direct for her taste. If she asked, the reason behind the question might be obvious. Jackson insisted that Theon was dense when it came to that topic, though that explanation didn’t seem quite right. Asking about some personal history would be better, she decided. “Have you ever been in a relationship?”

Despite the fact that Jackson’s comments made it seem like she would’ve needed to elaborate, Theon wasted no time in responding, “No.”

Blythe sat up straighter. “Any reason?”

He snorted. “Your turn. Truth or dare.”

“Truth.” Her shoulders slumped. Only one question per turn, huh? Fair enough.

“Have you ever been in a relationship?”

Oh. So they were returning questions now. “I’ve been on dates, but nothing I would call being in a relationship.” Namely because her parents pressured her into seeing the people they were with--sons of their rich business associates. For the most part, they were nice enough, but the principal of being forced into a relationship turned her off. “Now, truth or dare, and you already know my question.”

Theon took a deep breath and leaned back. From what she could tell, he didn’t seem too keen on answering. Maybe he thought she’d judge him for it--maybe because he was used to being judged for it? The thought bothered her. “I’ve never been interested in anyone,” he explained.

She cursed the way her stomach sank, but at least her smile didn’t waver. “Oh. That makes sense, then.”

“It does?” His eyebrows raised.

“Yeah.” She shrugged. “If you’re not interested in that sort of thing, then you shouldn’t force yourself to be. There’s nothing wrong with being comfortable.”

A smile tugged at his lips. “Thank you for that.” She nodded, and a moment of silence lapse between them before he spoke again. “So, truth or dare?”

Not wanting to risk being asked any romantic questions, she leaned forward and answered, “Dare.”

“Finish your math homework.”

On Saturday, Blythe found herself herself sitting on a park bench next to Theon as they watched Pyrrha play with a cat she’d found--an outdoor cat, given the collar, and a friendly one. To the child, at least, though he’d hissed at Theon, which Blythe found amusing. As such, he’d resigned himself to sitting a safe distance away, and after a couple minutes of petting the cat, she decided to keep him company.

They sat in silence for a minute before she asked, “What was that thing you said before about her name? I meant to ask earlier, but I forgot until now.”

“Her name is Pyrrha, and if you want her to like you, call her that.” He smiled, and his gaze never strayed from his cousin crouched on the ground next to the cat and seemingly having a conversation with the animal. “My aunt and I call her Bo because that’s how she referred to herself when she couldn’t speak well enough to pronounce her actual name, but she doesn’t like the nickname.”

“I bet she’ll like me no matter what I call her.” She perked up. “I’m a very likable person, in case you weren’t aware.”

That comment elicited a snort. “If you insist.”

She pouted. How dare he! But her expression softened as she turned her attention back to Pyrrha and watched the child giggle as the cat licked her nose. “She has to be the cutest kid I’ve ever seen,” she commented, and Theon hummed in agreement. Glancing back at him, she shifted her weight. “So... let me know if you don’t want to talk about it, but I’m a little curious. You said you’ve never been interested in a relationship, right? Is that because you’ve never liked anyone, or some other reason maybe...?”

He looked at her for a moment before returning his gaze back to watch his cousin. “I don’t mind. Well, not for the most part, at least. Some people aren’t very pleasant about it, but...” He made a face, then sighed. “It’s mostly that I’ve never liked anyone, and I’ve never felt the need to pretend I’m interested in that sort of thing when I’m not. I also wouldn’t want to be in a relationship before graduating from school anyway.”

Ah, well, maybe it’d be a good time to get over her crush, then, if there wasn’t a chance of having her feelings reciprocated. “I see.” She nodded slowly. “Why not before you graduate?” It seemed like an oddly specific rule, especially for someone who wasn’t interested in relationships to begin with.

A squirrel ran by, catching the cat’s attention before he took off to chase it. Pyrrha stared after them for a moment, then slumped her shoulders, trudged back to the bench, and climbed up to sit on Theon’s lap. He shifted a bit to accommodate her, and when he didn’t say anything, she prompted, “You guys can keep talking.”

Blythe laughed a bit. “Sad that your friend ran away?”

The child perked up at that, her legs swinging. “Nope! He’s having fun, so I’m happy! Just sad that I can’t pet him anymore, but I’ll see him again. He’s a good kitty. I’ve met his owners before too, ‘cause the first time we saw him, we were worried that he’d just escaped his house and they’d be looking for him, so we scooped him up and took him to the address on his tag, and they reassured us that he runs around outside all the time. Brings them presents, too! Cats do that ‘cause they think their humans can’t hunt for themselves, y’know. They’re just looking out for us.”

“Do they? I didn’t know that. That’s great!” Blythe beamed as she reached out to ruffle the kid’s hair, though she received some protest to the action. Idly, she wondered if Theon would be comfortable continuing the conversation in front of Pyrrha, but she didn’t want to seem too desperate either.

Apparently, she didn’t need to ask, since once the kid quieted down again, he explained, “My mom dropped out of college because she got pregnant with me. I guess that’s partly why I don’t see the appeal of dating during college. The other part, well, I already mentioned.”

“Theon’s a pill baby,” Pyrrha piped up. While he spoke, she’d curled up against his chest, humming softly to herself. “His dad’s super rich and lives in Italy. He bought me cake once too.”

Pill baby? Given the context, Blythe supposed that must’ve meant that his mother had been on birth control at the time she got pregnant, right? She’d heard the term before, and if she remembered correctly, that was what it meant. “Did his dad--” pay for his college? Fortunately, she managed to stop herself just in time. She shouldn’t have had any way of knowing about Theon’s financial situation, but Pyrrha’s comment did explain why he suddenly didn’t need the scholarship. Theon’s brow furrowed at the way she cut herself off, and she rushed to continue before he could ask. “Uh. Did his dad move to Italy after graduating?” Nice save.

“No,” Theon answered, “he’s from Italy, but he decided to go to college here as a foreign exchange student. He and my mom had a short relationship, and after graduation, he moved back home.”

Blythe nodded. Well, that mystery was solved. She wondered if she’d ever meet his father; she seemed to be curious about all things Theon Marlowe recently. And as Pyrrha tugged at his shirt and requested that they go eat lunch, she didn’t see anything wrong with that.

#☌「 theon ; ic 」chief executive ❞#♡「 pyrrha ; ic 」written in stars ❞#ღ「 npc ; blythe 」i’m just the words / you are the sound ❞#♔「 ooc ; drabble 」we burned a lot of matches trying to make flames ❞

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gallirae · 6 years

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Aftermath Trilogy Theory/Headcanon: Gallius Rax is Palpatine’s son

I know parentage theories are silly and passé but let’s indulge anyway.

TL;DR: I contend that Palpatine treats Rax like a son (or like he would treat a son, nasty man that he is). Since Palpatine is characterized in the Aftermath books as elitist and intensely egocentric, he might prefer his own blood offspring for the role Rax takes on over anyone else. Also included: speculation on Rax’s Force sensitivity.

Gallius Rax is Palpatine’s heir. This isn’t the old EU, so it’s not Thrawn anymore, it’s not even Vader. Operation Cinder, or the Contingency as the books call it, is Palpatine’s official plan for what happens when he dies. It involves destroying most of the Empire and allowing a group of select Imperials to escape and “start the game over”. Rax is put in a position where he can decide who is chosen and assume leadership over this group once they reach the Unknown Regions. That would have made him the next Emperor. He’s inheriting the Empire.

And he was chosen for that from the beginning. Palpatine starts alluding to his “destiny” before the Empire has even been created, at around the same time as he’s only eyeing Anakin as a future apprentice. Later, Palpatine summons Rax to confirm his role as the Contingency (not “it’s time for you to serve/carry out the Contingency” but YOU ARE the Contingency) on the second Death Star right before Luke is brought up to the throne room. Rax was Palpatine’s first choice for this all along, over people like Thrawn and Tarkin and Vader.

That holo Sloane finds identifies a teenaged Rax as part of Palpatine’s inner circle. Why was a boy who had only commanded a small band of killer orphans at that point so favored by Palpatine? Surely plenty of other people had done more impressive things in the Emperor’s service. Yet Palpatine treats Galli with a great deal of familiarity. He encourages the boy adopt his own interests and hobbies, like opera and chess. He introduces himself to Galli as a friend, with his own first name (”Sheev”, not “Darth Sidious”). He calls Galli “my precious boy”.

Why is Galli so precious to him?

We aren’t told any details of Rax’s career as an Imperial. It’s implied that he didn’t really do much, because he thinks of himself as an outcast. Despite making Rax his heir, Palpatine didn’t trust or respect him enough to give him a powerful position. He was a Fleet Admiral, but his fleet was in the outskirts of the Empire. He was given a ton of military medals but the reasons he earned them are not recorded. He was forbidden from even visiting the first Death Star. Palpatine made him prove his worth on Jakku and must have continued to test him while he was an officer but it was never anything that would leave a trace. He was specifically kept hidden away.

In my view, it would be in-character for Palpatine treat a son like this, specifically, a son who was disappointingly lacking in Force ability. Kind of like my headcanons for Brendol and Armitage which isn’t coincidence but we won’t discuss them right now. Obviously if Palpatine had a child, we would expect, and he would expect, for that child to inherit his unLIMITED POWAHH. But we never see Rax lifting rocks or Force-choking people or or shooting lightning from his fingers. If he could do all that, I figure he would. But if Galli just innately couldn’t control the Force, Palpatine would not consider him Sith apprentice material. The Dark Side is all about bending the Force to your will.

Corollary theory: Rax can’t control the Force. But that doesn’t mean he isn’t sensitive. There’s the fact that he is compelled to follow Palpatine’s ship, feeling the pull like destiny. Then the fact that he resists Palpatine’s command, senses that the command has power behind it. That moment might have been enough to demonstrate to Palpatine that his son had potential. In fact, that moment might have been entirely planned. Sheev goes to Jakku, calls out to his son with the Force, and his son comes to him. A good sign. He tests his son’s willpower. A better sign. There’s some strength in him. So he gives the boy a job to do. Let him prove himself.

And consider the fact that many people in the Imperial Remnant follow Rax devoutly, almost worshipfully, though he hasn’t done much to earn that respect. Consider the fact that Rae Sloane is tempted more than once to trust him, even though she knows he’s clearly shady as hell. Consider the fact that he’s blindly convinced she will trust him, as if no one has ever been able to resist him. And remember that as a boy, he convinced a group of children to guard an excavation site. There’s even a throwaway line about him having trained animals on Jakku too.

Suppose this was all due to a passive, radiating Force effect. An aura that he puts out without even realizing it. An aura to confound and seduce and manipulate, rather like a Jedi mind trick (like that theory Anakin inadvertently did this with Padmé). Animals follow his commands, captains make suicide runs with their ships in his name, people like Adea Rite fall in love with him. Not everyone is affected, of course. But it’s strong enough that Palpatine decides he’s not a lost cause after all.

Just like I theorize Rax being unaware of any Force abilities he has, I wouldn’t imagine him knowing for sure that he’s Palpatine’s son. Deep down he might suspect it, which would explain his complicated emotions about Palpatine. When he spits out to Sloane that while she boxed for sport, he was on Jakku fighting for his Emperor, I wouldn’t be surprised if the word “father” was in the back of his throat. But he doesn’t know for sure. And he realizes in the end that it doesn’t matter. He is undeserving of that lineage, when he fails.

Side Notes:

The only time that we see Galli wondering about his parents is right before he meets Palpatine. This might just mean he’s ready to imprint on a new parental figure. But it might be foreshadowing or something.

I didn’t explain anything of who Galli’s other parent might be and why he’s on Jakku because there’s nothing in canon I could use for that. Yeah I do have an OC and backstory ready why do you ask

And I saved this for last but IIRC Palpatine straight up calls Rax “my son” at one point. This almost debunks the entire theory because it’s too obvious. If Palp was secretly Rax’s dad would he just casually say that? Just to fuck with him? I don’t know, maybe.

#sw meta #sheev palpatine #gallius rax #aftermath trilogy #long post under the readmore

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tumblunni · 6 years

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Miscellaneous rambling Game Thoughts that I am Thinking about Game Today’s Think: Spice up the calendar stat raising gameplay a bit with ~festivals!~

LONG RAMBLE INCOMING

* Festivals that aren’t just markings on the calendar like in persona, but minigames like animal crossing and harvest moon! Also Oreshika but I only know one other person who plays that, lol. I really grew to like their tournements tho, even if its just a boring samey rpg battle repeated every damn year for centuries. It became oddly more useful in the postgame because everyone’s levels are so high and the amount of Devotion (job class selection points, basically) doesn’t increase as the enemies get buffed. So the twice yearly contests are the only reliable way to get a huge amount of devotion all at once, which is great if you’re grinding out new characters en masse and trying to get a rare inheritance trait! (srsly tho i have got TOTALLY sick of the ‘everyone lives and dies and then you play as their descendants’ thing by now, it just makes me feel extra guilty for grinding. I had to kill like 300 dads!) ...MAN I’M GOING OFFTOPIC LOL Anyway what I mean is that there’s a way bigger incentive to look forward to festivals/contests if the reward from them is something super useful that you can’t get anywhere else! Princess Maker 2 had a similar sort of thing, because money was really hard to make and the prize from a single tournement could fund like four months of combat classes! So whatever these rewards are gonna be, they should be like that and be a big boost that can help power-level your charries. Maybe even a x2 multiplier on experience for a particular stat, until january next year? or maybe this is how training gyms level up, instead of having exp? your fame rises in the tourney and you’re able to buy better equipment! Oh, and maybe the non-combat festivals could give a reward of a big relationship boost with certain characters? Gotta impress all the potential dates with your pie-baking skills! (pie may also contain dates)

* Also there totally needs to be a beauty pageant or fashion show or something. I know in real life there’s barely any of those for men, but this is a fantasy world so we can just say this town’s mayor is Damn Cool! And also it goes without saying that we’re gonna indulge the fantasy of having an unbiased set of judges that aren’t racist or homophobic or pedophiliac or anorexia obsessed or.. well, real life has a LOT of problems that games don’t have to emulate, lol. So yeah! This lil town in jrpgland has a big ol fancy fashion contest and it’s a fun event for everyone! Enjoy making mr grizzled warrior protagonist look cute as hell! * Basically this but What If It Wasn’t A Joke Seriously I hate seeing stuff like that on memes about being progressive, when it was clear within the context of the show that kids were meant to laugh at that male character wearing dresses. Man I was SO damn happy when Steven Universe subverted that trope and had an end of episode twist be Steven crossdressing and loving it and everyone is like ‘wow classic steven’ and cheering for him. Also they didn’t force the socially anxious girl to sing on stage! Generally a great episode for breaking tropes! So yeah more like Basically This But Basically This Man I forgot how much that ending makes me grin, holy shit! It probably doesn’t have the same factor out of context, but just it makes me so happy to have a flash forward and we see Sadie still singing the song, just offstage. So we get to know that even if this whole experience was ruined for her, she hasn’t given up on her dreams, and she’s way more confident with singing in front of other people even if she isn’t ready for singing with strangers. I love her and Steven’s friendship so much, seriously! its such a good big sister sort of thing, and this episode was great for showing steven stepping up to protect her but like.. not in any sort of cliche macho way. By winning back the crowd with a fab dress! * So yeah anyway Where Was I Before I Got Offtopic Lol It won’t be a crossdressing-only pageant or anything, but it’ll be a unisex fashion show and I’m not gonna include any form of homophobic nonsense from real world fashion industry. And I wanna give loads of options so the player can pick whatever they prefer, and I’m writing this character as the sort of dude who would love all of them! Dark antihero trenchcoats are cool but what about also PASTEL LOLITA TOP HATS * Maybe could have gameplay similar to the gen 4 version of Pokemon Contests? With the multiple judges! In those games the judges were all identical and it was just ‘don’t pick the same judge twice’, here it could be more like the three judges have different tastes and you have to coordinate your style and performance to get as many points as you can. Do you gamble it all on super-impressing one judge, or make an unconventional combo outfit that can bank medium level points with everyone? And like maybe the cooking contest could have the same sort of gameplay, cos that’s another festival where you could say the judges could have different tastes. Also maybe friend characters have a random chance of appearing as a judge! You wouldn’t get any bonus points tho, cos they’d get kicked off if they cheated on your behalf. But maybe you can get a relationship points boost if you appeal to them? So it could be like a temptation to risk losing the contest but unlock a new romance scene with your sweetheart. THE POWER OF PIE!

* Other various festivals I have really liked in various cute town time games: * Stardew Valley’s easter egg hunt! * Rune Factory’s weird snowball fight but with turnips instead! * Parents giving you money on new years was also a thing in rune factory, and I’m pretty sure that’s based on a real thing in some country? Was it china? Your culture rules, dudes! * Also its in a lot of games cos its celebrated in japan, but I wish we celebrated it here too! The two day valentines! Seriously I way prefer the idea of having one day where one half of the couple gives a gift and then a later day where the other person gives one back in return. And its less commercialized, they even still make homemade chocolates in that country! Damn i’d love to try doing that someday! (not necessarily for a valentines thing, just in general it seems fun) Maybe could have a fun fantasy variant where people give something different instead of chocolates? or if the conditions for the two different days were different? like instead of the girl valentine and the boy valentine its.. I dunno... a day celebrating some famous social class busting couple so its meant to be for rich people hitting on commoners and vice versa? A bit of a halloween aspect where you’re allowed to do stuff that’s normally frowned upon, free of judgment. (It was like that in puritan times when people were all ‘burn the witch!’ and all) Also I like that japanese valentines has ‘honmei and giri’- chocolates for actual crushes, but you can also give them to friends and family! More holidays need to be an excuse for friend gifts! (also those are really catchy names for such a thing)

* Speaking of which, maybe I could throw in some festivals from my home country? Mostly britain has similar holidays to america with a few missing, but there’s a few ones unique to the different regions which are pretty fun. I don’t know a lot about all of them but here’s some of the ones we have in my are, Wales! * Guy Fawkes’s Day. Official day for hella fireworks! Tho people also do them at christmas and halloween, and this holiday is right in the middle so DEAR GOD I’ve been dealing with my noisy neighbours constantly exploding stuff for three months. Give it a break, guys! The story behind this holiday is actually kinda interesting though, we set off fireworks to celebrate some villainous guy who tried to bomb a castle once and everyone tied him to a tree and set him on fire. There’s even a kids’s song about this weird morbid old thing! “remember remember the fifth of november, the gunpowder treason and plot, i see no reason the gunpowder treason should ever be forgot” Also its my american friend’s birthday, which is funny cos apparantly my birthday is an american holiday too! O+O * Eisteddfod, which is like.. literally a stat testing festival in real life?? Like yknow how you have sports festivals in school, well this is that but for like.. brain. Brain sprints. In mythology the Welsh were basically the Bard class of britain, we have loads of folk heros who are like.. literally able to poetry and then your brain explodes. So poems, songs, and novels are valued a lot here, and this is the biggest day of the school schedule because of it! Everyone gets to dress in ye olden style fancy dress costumes and enter best poem/short story/painting/whatever contests, and it is SURPRISINGLY AWESOME!!! like.. everything is done with MAXIMUM HAM. M A X I M U MMMM There is no amount of hyperbole when I say that the school carves their own wooden throne and there’s a public crowning ceremony for the kids who win. This is a literal actual thing that happens once annually in every school forever. Its called the Chairing Of The Bard! And I won it once when I was 11 or so and it was both the best and worst thing ever, like holy shit i was SO terrified having to stand up in front of 300 people and put on an even more silly costume on silly costumes day... Oh and another strange thing that is actually real! School houses! like in harry potter! Its generally for younger kids tho, its like 100% of all primary schools (grade schools) and then like 1/3rd of high schools? Also the names of the houses are up to the school to decide, but for some reason they almost always seem to be red, yellow, blue and green. In my primary school they were just named for cities in wales, and I always found it really annoying that I didn’t get in Caerdydd house when the school was literally IN Caerdydd! * Also unrelated but I looked up my old high school on google and I’m surprised that so many of the same teachers are still working there seven years later! I’m so happy that some of them got promoted!

* And other miscellaneous festival ideas!!!

* You know what i fuckin love? That nonsense fantasy trope of having to fight thru a giant dungeon and get like the rare crystal feather of the fuckface bird or else you can’t marry the king’s daughter. Its even more weird and weirdly endearing when its just like.. AN EVERYONE. Eveyr marriage. Everywhere. How the fuck do these people actually survive if they have to do this five times a year?? So yeah, I think that’d be a really cool wedding festival to have as like.. a sign of this town being badass, lol But also make it less of a law, cos its not as fun if people are being forced to die on mount terror, yknow? its just a tradition that developed cos of some great adventurer in ye olden times, and goofy bastards dare each other to attempt it as the equivelant of a batchelor’s party. You don’t have to, plenty of people just make faux feather ornaments to propose to their loved one. But it’s considered a powerful good luck blessing to pull off the legendary adventure! Like only one couple every decade manages to do it, and you get a big town festival to make your special day even better! And people won’t be mad if you fail, it’s still a fun bit of entertainment for the townsfolk and a good excuse for Secondary Tradition: We All Get Drunk Instead So yeah, gameplay wise this would mean you have an option to do this festival or not. But it’s gonna be the hardest minigame of all, so don’t come unprepared! Alternatively you can either buy or make your own proposal ornament, and do things the less adventurey way. * Probably different batchelor/ettes would like different things? like Blair is an adventurer herself so of course she’ll go nuts for the traditional feather hunt. And she’d really hate the expensive ornament, cos she’s a down to earth gal who works hard to scrape together enough income in the inn to look after her lil sister. She’d get pissed off at you wasting so much on her, like wtf if you’d bought me a nice sturdy set of furniture that’d be way more useful! (Tho she’s a bit of an outlier and generally most people will at least be flattered by the fancy stuff, even if its not their favourite.) * Oh, and maybe you could actually do the feather festival together?? I actually didn’t think of that, I was just going 100% with the cliche of dude having to do some crazy quest to marry a girl. But it would be a way better test of your luck as a couple if you did it as a couple! That could be SO cool, just the two of you climbing a badass mountain and beating up monsters all lovey dovey~! And it could make the minigame entirely unique on each route, cos each character would have different roles in battle. Most of them aren’t adventurers by trade like Blair, so you could be fighting alongside a mage or a support character. Maybe one of them is actually a weakass that you need to protect? Tho I mean it would be bad to categorize one character as the least enjoyable version of the minigame. So maybe its like one character becomes that in one particular situation, and that’s the sign that you’re getting their Normal Ending instead of the Golden Ending? Someone who has some sort of doubts or a secret they’re keeping, which limits their ability here. Possibly Mortimer? Cos in his case it would be exceptionally hard not to reveal his secret in battle! And I dunno, maybe he tells the protagonist the secret before they get married, and the writing is just framed so that the player never knows but the protagonist does. Now go do his golden ending if you wanna learn more! * I like morty a lot. He’s ended up the most developed even though he’s the most recent character I added, lol!

#test game thing

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ellana-ravenwood · 7 years

Text

Silly Bat’ - Bruce Wayne x Reader

Just a short silly fic BECAUSE WHY NOT RIGHT ?! I like to imagine that when Bruce doesn’t have the stress of taking care of Wayne Inc or of his nightly activities on his back, he’s just a very funny and kinda weird man...So I wrote something about it, hope you’ll like it :

You can find my masterlist here : @ella-ravenwood-archives

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There were times, when it was just you and Bruce, where you genuinely wondered if your husband wasn’t completely crazy.

Not in a bad way. Not in a “Joker” or “Harley Quinn” way. Nooooo. In a “that man is completely silly, and I’m really starting to question his sanity...is he on drugs ? Drunk ? I don’t know, but it’s funny” way. Yes. Exactly in that way.

Often, when it was just the two of you, behind closed door, he would...loosen up. And not just a bit. He would loosen up completely and go on full “goofball mode”.

You couldn’t count the number of times he started a pillow fight, a war with water guns (though since Alfred yelled at you two as if you were children making a mess, you switched from water guns to nerf guns), a tickle fight or a stupid and ridiculous fashion show etc etc.

You still remembered how your abs hurt after the fit of laughter you had when he came out of the bathroom wearing an awful bright green tuxedo vest a random fashion house send him, without an undershirt, flexing all of the muscle of his chest and all, some sweatpants on of which he tucked the lower part in cowboy boots Clark gave him, and a lampshade as a hat...Where was he even finding those ideas ?

Yes. When it was just you and him, he was a different person. That no one else but you, not even his children, not even Alfred, or any of his close friends would ever see. A Bruce completely carefree, and also slightly insane...but hilarious.

Every time you ended up having the Manor to yourself (which was very rarely, with five children and a butler who almost never took days off), it would even be better, your playground being bigger.

One of your favorite “Silly Bat” time was when you played hide and seek (yes, grown ass adults could totally play hide and seek) and you went to hide in a tree in the garden...And got found by Clark.

The embarrassment on Bruce’s face when he was trying to explain what you two were doing was priceless...In the end, he said that you were playing a “sexual version of hide and seek”, because it was easier to explain than to tell his friend that he was actually playing the actual game, like a damn child, with his beautiful wife...

Clark was impressed. After all, he found you in a tree, so he wondered how you two were going to make lo...Your laughter stopped his trail of thoughts. Your superfriend misinterpreted your laugh, thinking you were mocking him because he was blushing, and that was good (for Bruce). It settled the end of the story.

Soon enough, Superman was laughing too, and it took everything in Bruce to not even crack a smile, to keep his stoic stance, and slightly bored facial expression, so that he wouldn’t get discovered. Ooh you loved that man.

You really loved this kid like part of Bruce, you felt like he deserved to have those moments, because his childhood was ripped from him when he was but an eight year old child...So you indulged him whenever he had one of his “I’m a bit of a weird idiot” time.

Like today.

For the first time in six months, you had the entire house for yourselves, and you took advantage of it the night before (Bruce took his weekly night off of patrol, letting his children and other partners handling things), making love in every single room, needless to say, you fell in a deep sleep when the first light of morning arose...You woke up alone in bed, but Bruce’s side was still quite warm, so he was probably downstairs or in the bathroom.

Bathroom was empty, and you saw only your naked reflection in the huge mirrors all around the room. With a loud yawn, you put on one of your Husband’s sweatshirt, long enough for you to play as a dress, and didn’t bother to put some underwear on. You knew your Bruce, they wouldn’t last long on you anyway.

It was almost noon when you came in the kitchen to get a late breakfast. You definitely had a deep craving for some Cap’n Crunch right now.

Still a bit sleepy, you first thought you hallucinated as your gaze fell on Bruce, standing in front of the kitchen counter, settling the breakfast down (how cute). You rubbed your eyes vigorously and...Nope, the sight was still there.

You took a few more steps, quite confused, and he turned around as he heard you. Smiling widely, he came to you as if nothing, and planted a kiss on your forehead.

-Breakfast ready my love. I made some hashbrowns, bacon, eggs, blueberry pancakes...and of course, a bowl full of Cap’n Crunch and cold milk.

It was really cute, how he made you breakfast whenever it was only the two of you. Contrary to popular belief, he was quite a good cook...But, you just couldn’t wrap your head around what you were seeing right now. Unable to contain yourself, you said :

-Hum...Bruce, what are you doing ?

-Whatever do you mean ?

You approach him, and his smirk convinces you that he damn well know what you mean. Still, you explain :

-I mean...why are you wearing one of my shirt ?

He looks at himself, and gives his person an appreciative look (arrogant bastard), nods a bit, and look back at you, his cocky facial expression making you narrow your eyes in slight annoyance :

-Payback. Cause you’re always stealing mine.

Payb...What ? He gestures to you, and of course, conveniently, you are in indeed wearing one of his shirt. His huge ass shirt that was way too big for you. That served as a dress. You gave him a look, trying to defend yourself, no you weren’t always stealing his sh...his eyes and one of his eyebrow raising shut you up. Yeah ok. He was right. You had the bad habit to steal all of his shirt, to the extent he had to buy new ones often because all of them just magically disappeared (you had a place under your king sized bed where you hid them...Alfred helped, because he thought it was cute).

But still. His shirt were so big you used them as some sort of dresses. They were going almost all the way down to your knees. You could hang around in your house with them, in front of your children and butler, without it being weird. But your shirts ? On Bruce ? You were trying so hard not to laugh. Especially since you knew that’s what he was waiting for. Holding yourself as best you can, you sit next to him and say :

-...You are aware that you’re a giant compared to me right ? It looks like you’re wearing a really strange...Crop top.

-I am aware, and I like it. I’m gonna set a new trend across Gotham.

-One of my extremely small shirt as a crop top, and wearing only boxers ?

-Yup.

-People love you so much that I bet they’d find this idea brilliant...

-You think ?

-Yes, especially since it’d give them a glimpse of your very handsome body. I’m gonna have competition.

-Haha, no one compares to you, you’ll never have any competition.

-That’s cute. But you still look ridiculous.

-Non sense, I look fabulous.

-Fabulously ridiculous.

-You have no fashion sense, wearing such baggy clothes like my shirts. You’re not showing how gorgeous your body look with such things on.

-Oh ?

-Yes. Let me give you a make-over my love.

You smile and roll your eyes. Yes, he was definitely in one of his “Silly Bat” mood. As usual, you were definitely enjoying it.

He raised from the stool he was sitting on, and got even closer to you. Kissed the top of your nose, and with one swift move, took his sweatshirt off of you.

-Here. Fixed it. Now you’re the most beautiful woman in the World.

-I’m naked.

-Exactly. Perfect.

You chuckle a bit, of this little and short laugh he loved so much, and his feature soften even more. He’s unable to hold his sweet smile for you, and the sight of your Bruce, smile out, wearing only his boxers and one of your shirt that was way too small for you, turns into one of the best sight you ever had.

-You’re not too bad yourself.

-It’s because of your shirt, adds character.

You giggle some more, and his hands go automatically on your waist at the sound of your cute laughter. He brings you close from him, and your lips connect with his in the most tender kiss ever. God you loved moments like this, when it was just you and him.

When he could be silly, weird, affectionate, without the fear of someone seeing him, without the fear of ruining his reputation (reputation that was important to keep up for a lot of reasons).

When he could make you laugh to the point that your abs would hurt so much afterward. When he could just be himself a bit more...The thought of some people discovering this facet of his personality was hilarious.

Imagine Clark, on a mission with the dark and broody Batman, being very confused as to why said dark and broody Batman wears a bright yellow suit and a lampshade on his head ? Hilarious.

His kids sometimes saw a bit of that part of him, and Alfred too (he loved it, it reminded him of the boy Bruce used to be before his parents’ murder). Nerf guns wars were a regular occurence this later days.

But most of the time, people only saw his darkest side, his saddest one...And you were honored that he graced you with his childlike side on a regular basis.

One thing was troubling you however :

-Tell me Bruce, my dear heart...

-What my love ?

-How exactly did you put my shirt on ?

-...With great difficulties. That’s how I did it. Your shirts are really small, not easy to slip it on. I learn how flexible I could be thanks to it though.

Your laugh makes his heart fly and sing. Only you could have such an effect on him. Just a smile or a glance...And he’d feel lighter. Like he wasn’t carrying the weight of the World (or at least Gotham city) on his shoulders.

He was thankful that you were in his life. Without you, he would have buried this side of him deep within himself, never to let it out ever. Without you, he would only be the dark and broody Batman, the arrogant, womanizing and cocky Bruce Wayne. Without you, he would be miserable. He was beyond glad that you tumbled in his life one day, and just...stuck around, with your bright smile and sarcastic jokes. You were perfect.

Especially when naked.

He hands were starting to get hungry, and you chuckled a bit more as he tickled you unintentionally.

-Aaah, maybe I could set a trend too.

-Uh ?

-Well yeah, how would I look like if my husband set a trend, the soon to be famous crop top/boxers look, and I wouldn’t do anything ?

-What trend would you set ?

-This one. The Naked look.

-...The Naked look ?

-You said it was perfect.

-It’s perfect for my eyes only.

-Thanks...

-No, I mean, any men, and women for that matter, would think it’s perfect too ! You really are the most beautiful woman on the planet. But...It’s..I...Only for me.

-Bruce, sharing is caring.

-Maybe, but I have no intention of sharing you.

-That’s not very nice, for a self-proclaimed philanthropist. People would be disappointed.

-Fuck ‘em.

-Oh, and he swears. Outrageous.

He smiles wickedly at you, and you return the same smile. He loved when you were messing with him (as long as it wasn’t going too far...then he’d get all pouty and frowny, which was kinda cute, but anti-climatic).

-I can show you how outrageous I can be.

-Oh yeah ?

-Yeah.

-Mr. Wayne, I am appalled by your behavior.

He brings you closer to him, and lift you up the floor, his hands behind your thigh. You automatically wrap your legs around his waist, and peck his lips lovingly.

He kisses you deeply, and you moan lowly in his mouth. You pull away, and rest your forehead on his as he puts you down on the counter.

-Good thing no one will ever know what we’re about to do on the counter.

-Oh yes, they’d be very...appalled if they knew.

You burst out laughing, and kiss him once more. He pulls away, and just before plunging his head in your neck, says :

-I love you (Y/N).

-I love you Bruce.

Your shirt was difficult to put on for him, but definitely easy to rip off of his body.

FIN.

#bruce wayne x reader #bruce wayne imagine #bruce wayne fanfiction #batman x reader #batfam #batfam x reader #Batman imagine #batman headcanon #Bruce Wayne headcanon #Batmom x Bruce Wayne #Batmom #Batfamily #batfam imagine #Batfamily x reader #Batman fanfiction #fluff #fluffy Bruce Wayne #also #Silly Bruce wayne

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peachcitt · 7 years

Text

a rollercoaster of a chap 33! @gigiree @megatraven @luvclick

hello everyone!! as promised i am back after school has ended for me (although my summer has lasted for a week before this but i needed a week to unwind from testing and getting used to summer) and boy is it good to be back to writing hhhhHHOOOOOoooohhh boy it’s so nice,,, i must admit one of the reasons i didn’t update last week was because i was so caught up in another miraculous ladybug au (necromancer!marinette anyone?) and an original idea that is literally the most fun for me to write. but ya know this fic is something i will see through to the end, no matter what, and it is rather fun to write as well

also by the way when i said this chapter is a rollercoaster it’s because it is like hot damn i didn’t realize how much heavy stuff and character background (or at least hints of it) that i put in until i looked over the chapter for the summary got dang

Read from the beginning/where it’s originally posted here

Story description: They say that curiosity killed the cat. But it can do a whole lot more than that.

Chapter description: Marinette tells about her good memories, she falls asleep on a boat, and Chat gets in a certain scientist’s face.

Rated: T (because some things may not be suited for some audiences... just a lot of emotions for this chapter buddos)

Chat laid awake, his eyes fixed on Marinette’s relaxed sleeping face. He knew he should try and get some rest in, considering Marinette was at least trying, but he didn’t want to close his eyes and see something he didn’t want to. He regained memories from Jumps with sleep, and a lot of the time, those memories weren’t good. He also relieved past memories with sleep. Also not good.

So he stared at Marinette as she slept, watching the way her lips parted with every breath. Her hair was splayed against the pillow, and there would be no doubt that her hair would dry strangely on that side. Her cheek was smushed onto the pillow, and there was a little drool slipping out of her mouth. Her fingers twitched in his.

It was strange, to feel her skin directly. His suit had special capabilities that allowed him to feel different sensations, but it could never compare to the actual thing. Science could only go so far, he guessed.

Another strange thing: not wearing the suit in general.

He’d worn it almost continuously for so long in front of everyone. Except for Nino. But not wearing the suit in front of someone who wasn’t Nino made Chat’s heart beat a little faster.

Marinette had been so close to seeing his face. His face without the mask. Nerve-wracking.

He let his mind wander, never letting it stay too long on something for fear of letting the thought lull him to sleep.

Earlier, he had told Marinette about his mother. Not a lot, but still more than Chat had said to anyone in a long time. He thought about his mother for a bit, letting himself indulge in imagining the scent of her perfume, which always smelled like wildflowers, and the smile lines by her eyes.

The thought of his mother brought him to another, grimmer thought. Or rather, many grim thoughts, but one in particular. He stared at the face of the girl who came into his life not unlike a typhoon, and he wondered just how much she knew about the situation she was in.

A lot of things had happened before she came. A lot of things only Chat, Fu, and one other person knew the full details of. A lot of things that Chat wouldn’t dare talk about.

He disentangled one of his hands from hers, lifting it up to trace a crescent on her cheekbone. Her eyes fluttered open, and she frowned at him, gripping the one hand still in her grasp.

“Don’t tell me you’ve been awake the whole time,” she muttered, her voice low and raspy from only just waking up.

“Hm.” Her frown deepened. “It hasn’t been that long. I promise.”

“Go to sleep, Chat,” she grumbled, closing her eyes once more.

“Hm.”

She cracked one eye open. “What’s keeping you awake?” she asked, her voice softening a little bit.

“Myself,” Chat admitted.

“What about yourself?”

He thought about how much he should divulge. “Too many bad memories.”

Marinette’s face softened even more, and a sad look crossed her face. She pulled Chat closer, wrapping her arms around his head and holding him in a tight embrace. His nose tickled the small hairs by her neck, and he took a breath involuntarily. She smelled like cheap shampoo and wildflowers.

“That’s when you try and think about the good memories,” she whispered, and her voice was honey right by his ear.

Chat felt himself break a little. He relaxed into her embrace, burying his nose further in her hair. “Would if all the good memories are connected to bad ones?”

She held him a little tighter. “I’ll give you some of mine.”

There was a long pause, and tears gathered in his eyes. “Please,” he whispered, and it was like he was begging for something unattainable.

“My parents,” she started, and she blew out a breath, like it was difficult for her. “They owned a bakery. Each day, they’d wake me up at the crack of dawn blaring the same old CDs with the Chinese singer that I could never remember the name of. The first thing I smelled in the morning was baked bread.”

He was suddenly reminded of when she ate the akuma candy and described all the flavors to him. All the sweet delights and pastries made sense to him now.

“After class I would come home to a snack my mother had made. When the bakery closed, I would play video games with my dad. I think he’d let me win, but I think that’s okay.”

She took in a shaking breath, and Chat wondered if she was crying. Why she was crying.

“I had a hideout on the roof of the bakery. It was also my house, you know? My hideout was right up against the stars, and my mom liked to buy flowers and plants for me to put up there. I would draw and dream there. Sometimes my parents would come up there with me, and we’d eat cookies and try and point out constellations that didn’t exist.”

“What would you dream about?” Chat asked, his voice low and husky. He was getting emotional hearing the sound of her voice breaking.

“Becoming a clothes designer.” Her voice turned wistful. “I wanted to be famous, to have my clothes worn by everyone because they were just that good. I would dream up designs and collections and color schemes.” He heard her swallow thickly, and he felt her hands shake as she stroked her fingers through his hair.

“Why are you crying?” he whispered, and at last a sob shook it’s way out of her.

She pulled away from him, showing him her red eyes and tear-stained cheeks. She smiled sadly at him. “I’m only giving you good memories, kitty. Only good.”

It seemed her good memories were tied with her bad ones as well. And yet she was the one trying to make Chat feel better about the same issue.

“If anyone’s going to save the world, it’s going to be you,” Chat said, brushing her damp and frizzy behind her ear to wipe away her tears.

She let out a rather wet laugh. “I suppose that’s a compliment.”

“It is. You’ve got a good heart, and I know the SOUL inside you is good as well.” His heart clenched. “You have all the power to make everyone fall to their knees.”

“That’s a little severe,” she mumbled, smiling a little at him. “I just want everyone to get along.”

“Too kind,” Chat said, and he finally closed his eyes.

---

Marinette woke up from another dreamless sleep hours later, her hair all across her face. She was staring up at the ceiling, and she got the strange feeling that she was not laying in the position she felt asleep in.

She lifted her head.

No, she was not laying in the same position she fell asleep in.

Not at all.

Her body was splayed diagonally across Chat’s, one of her arms cradling his face. Her other arm was trapped underneath Chat’s arm around her waist. She wondered how this had happened and why Chat seemed to still be sleeping peacefully.

Either he was seriously dead tired, or he seriously didn’t mind being slept on. She had a feeling it was a mix of both.

She didn’t want to wake him up because although her memories were a little blurred from sleep, she still remembered what he had said. He couldn’t sleep because he would remember too many bad memories.

Marinette knew what that felt like. It made sleeping not as relaxing as it was supposed to be. It made sleeping difficult.

Right now, he seemed to be sleeping without any sort of nightmare or bad dream of any kind. He was getting proper rest in who even knows how long.

After a while of trying to remain in the same position as when she woke up, her back started to hurt. And then her arm fell asleep. And her tiredness started to wear off, replaced with a burning hunger.

Chat still slept soundly.

She squirmed, trying to wiggle herself free of his arm, but he only seemed to grip her tighter. “At least let me change positions, asshole,” she grumbled, not expecting any sort of response.

“No can do, bugaboo,” mumbled Chat’s very sleepy and husky sleep voice. Marinette almost shrieked. Almost.

“Since when have you been awake?” she demanded, trying her best to give him the stink eye from her position. She was sure she looked a bit silly, but she couldn’t quite take him seriously with her arm still cradling his face at an odd angle.

“Since you have.” She narrowed her eyes. “Yes, I’ve been asleep the whole time. I started to wake up when you started moving.”

“Why didn’t you say anything sooner?” she asked, thinking about the minutes she spent trying to stay still for his sake.

“I thought it was funny.”

“You’re the worst.”

“Yeah, I know.”

He finally let go of her waist, and she sat up, stretching her back and ridding herself of the cricks in her neck. He did the same, sitting up to rest his chin on her shoulder. His arms went to wrap around her waist again, and Marinette found herself staring down at his bare hands once more. It was still a surprise, it seemed.

She tore her eyes away from his hands. She turned her head to look at him, looking deeply into his eyes. “I’m hungry.”

“Grillby’s?”

“Yes, please.”

---

The cold air outside of the inn was a shock to Marinette’s skin, what with her having just spent hours under warm blankets and in Chat’s arms.

As they made the short walk over to Grillby’s, Chat reached over and intertwined his hand with hers. He had put the suit back on before he left, so the leather of his gloves touched her skin instead of his skin. She missed the feel of it.

He looked over to her, and his lips quirked up in a small snort of laughter.

“What?” she asked, a small smile growing on her face. It was like his smile was infectious.

“I was right,” he said, reaching over and smoothing down one side of her hair. She felt it spring up again as soon as his hand left her head. “You’re hair dried weird because of how you slept.”

Marinette blushed, slapping her free hand against the offending chunk of hair. “Why didn’t you tell me sooner?”

“It looks cute,” was all that he replied.

They walked into Grillby’s, and they sat at the same place that they had sat the last time they’d been there. The warmth of Grillby’s flames slowly started to defrost Marinette, and she gave a contented sigh.

Grillby looked at Marinette, then pointedly looked at Chat before looking at her again.

“Listen,” Marinette started to defend herself, but she found she wasn’t able to find a proper excuse.

“The usual, please,” Chat said, seemingly oblivious for once.

Giving one last look at Marinette, Grillby brought out a couple of lemonades and two plates of burgers and fries, one order significantly smaller than the other. Chat took the smaller portion, taking the big plate from Grillby to set in front of Marinette.

“I can’t possibly eat all this,” she said, raising her eyebrow at him. But as she stared at the food, perfectly greasy and smelling amazing, her stomach grumbled.

“Whatever you don’t eat you can just give to me. It’ll be fine.”

Marinette ate all of it.

She wiped the plate clean, in fact. Downed the entirety of her lemonade.

She leaned back on the stool, her hands gripping the countertop. Chat and Grillby looked over at her appreciatively.

“That was a lot,” she said, patting her stomach and looking over at Chat. “I can’t believe I did that.” Then, to Grillby. “Thank you very much. It was delicious.” Grillby’s flames burned a little brighter.

Grillby looked expectantly at Chat. They stuck out a hand. Chat barely glanced down as he high fived Grillby, flashing a shining grin. “Put it on my tab.”

Marinette rolled her eyes, and she looked over at Grillby to see that they were doing the same.

When they left Grillby’s, embracing the cold once more, Marinette worried at her thumb nail as they walked back to the dock. “Do you think Jalil will actually give us a ride back? He didn’t seem too happy about it the first time.”

Chat looked ahead, his jaw set as he gave Marinette’s hand a squeeze. “Jalil may not like me so much, but he’s not a bad guy. He said he’d take us back to Hotland, so he will.”

Sure enough, when they got to the dock, Jalil was waiting in his small boat, reading a different book than before. It was another one about time travel.

When he saw Marinette and Chat, his face darkened, and he set his eyes on Marinette, almost as if he was refusing to look at Chat. The burning blue of his glowing eye still unsettled her, and so she tried to focus on the normal soft blue of his other eye.

“Are you ready to go back to Hotland?” he asked her.

She gave a nervous glance to Chat. “Yes,” she answered, and Jalil snapped his book shut. She jumped.

Just like before, Chat helped her into the boat first, and then she helped him in, too. They sat down next to another stack of books about time travel. Chat looked at them sadly.

Jalil rowed the boat onto the flowing part of the river. The gentle rocking of the boat as they traveled and the food in her stomach made Marinette’s eyes heavy, and she rested her head against Chat’s shoulder, closing her eyes. She fell into an in between state of sleep – not entirely asleep, but not entirely awake either.

“You think she’s dead,” she heard Jalil say, his voice soft as it drifted into her almost-sleeping consciousness.

“I think she’s in a place where she won’t easily be able to come back,” Chat replied, voice just as soft. “There’s a difference.”

“You don’t want to find her,” Jalil said. His tone wasn’t accusatory, Marinette’s didn’t think. He was just stating facts. Marinette wondered who this person they were talking about was.

“It’s not that I don’t want to. I just think there’s no point.”

“Nothing has a point anymore, does it? Everything is meaningless to you.”

There was a moment of silence. Chat hummed. “Not everything.”

“Things that used to be important to you. You’ve just abandoned them.”

“They abandoned me. I chose not to take part in that world anymore.”

“That world is where my sister is,” Jalil said, and Marinette felt Chat sigh heavily.

“There’s more to this than your sister, Jalil. More than you can ever know.”

“So tell me.”

Again, Chat sighed. “I can’t.”

“Can’t or won’t?”

A long silence stretched out, and Marinette felt the boat hit something. The dock.

“Wake up the girl. And get off my boat, Chat.”

Marinette was jostled into a fully awake state by Chat’s gentle voice. “Hey, sweetheart,” he whispered, shaking her a little, “it’s time to go.”

She opened her eyes and looked over at Jalil. He was leaning the oar, staring off into the distance at something Marinette didn’t think she’d be able to see if she tried.

When they got off the boat and started to walk away, Marinette glanced back at Jalil. She watched as his head dropped, and his shoulders started to shake. She stopped walking altogether and felt Chat stop beside her. He didn’t turn around, though.

Jalil stood there shaking for a moment, and then he lifted his face to the high cavern ceiling, and Marinette felt her heart break at the expression on his face. He near collapsed on a seat of the boat, and he slowly reached for another book on time travel.

“Let’s go, Marinette,” Chat said softly, gently turning Marinette around so that she couldn’t see Jalil anymore. “We have to keep moving, right?”

She finally resigned herself to walk again, but she couldn’t shake the image of Jalil out of her head. “What happened to you two?” she asked, just as Chat opened the door to the lab.

He turned back to her, raising an eyebrow. “I already told you.” She gave him a look, but he didn’t yield. “It’s time to meet someone new. Someone that will probably be a bit more hospitable.”

“Probably?” Marinette asked.

Chat pushed open the door with a heavy sigh. “Yeah. Probably.”

The interior of the lab was cloaked in a heavy darkness, and as they advanced further in, Marinette could hear the soft drone of machinery. Ahead was a large viewing screen which was cutting light into the dark room, and Chat let out a soft whistle.

“Yeah,” he whispered, stopping to stare at the image of the two of them projected on the viewing screen. “We’re probably screwed.”

Marinette looked away from the viewing screen, shivering a little. If she squinted, she could make out junk piled on a desk next to the screen, but it was far too dark to be sure. She walked forward slowly, looking for a light switch, her footsteps echoing softly in the large space.

“Is this really what I look like? Man, am I handsome,” Chat called out from behind her. She looked back to see that he was holding his hand up to the viewing screen camera, blowing up the image of his leather clad hand. Marinette rolled her eyes.

“More like a handful,” she deadpanned, letting her lips flicker up into a smile when Chat gasped.

A door slid open ahead and the lights suddenly flicked on, momentarily blinding Marinette. When she could see again, she saw a woman step out from behind the door, holding an open file and reading it carefully.

“Hello?” Marinette said, and the woman jumped back, dropping the file and giving a little shriek. Her glasses slipped off her nose and clattered to the floor, where the contents of the file were now scattered.

“Oh, gosh,” the woman said, seeming to get a little flustered. She tucked a lock of short red hair behind her ear and dropped to her knees, fumbling for the papers and her glasses. “I really didn’t expect you to get here so soon.”

She only seemed to be making a larger mess, so Marinette kneeled down in front of her, picking up her glasses and handing them to her. “Here you go.”

“Ah, thank you,” the woman said, taking the glasses and putting them back on. They seemed to make her already rather large blue eyes even larger. Marinette glanced down at the scattering of papers, meaning to help pick up those too, but her eyes caught on the header of the paper on top.

SOUL Creation Test Subject #87 Results:

Before Marinette could read anymore, the woman had snatched the papers away, laughing nervously while stuffing them into the case file. “Sorry about that,” she said. Marinette stared at her hand. It seemed to be turning invisible. “My name is Sabrina. I’m the Royal Scientist.”

She stood up, tucking her hair behind her ear again with her invisible hand and then offering the invisible hand for Marinette to shake.

“Um.” Marinette stared at the place where a hand should be.

Sabrina looked down, finally seeming to notice the absence of her hand and blushing furiously. With what seemed like a great effort, she made her hand visible again, and Marinette hesitantly shook it.

“But yes,�� Sabrina continued, smiling a little at Marinette. “I am the Royal Scientist.”

“That means you’re with the king, right?” Marinette asked, stepping back a little and glancing over at Chat, who was making faces at the viewing screen.

“Oh, well, I’m not with the king exactly. Well, I am. Er.” She paused, seeming to think for a moment. “I’m not one of the bad guys who wants to kill you. Sort of like Chat.”

Chat walked up to stand beside Marinette, crossing his arms. “You still work for Plagg. I don’t.” Sabrina shifted awkwardly. “But, yeah. Sure. Sort of like me.” His tone was entirely light hearted, and Marinette shot him a pointed look to tell him to behave.

Sabrina looked between Chat and Marinette, looking as if she might run away. When Chat shrugged and looked away, she focused back on Marinette, one of her arms slowly turning invisible. “A-anyway, when my cameras picked up a human entering the Underground, I got a little excited.”

“Cameras?” Marinette asked. She vaguely remembered passing by a few unsettling and poorly hidden cameras on her journey. Suddenly the viewing screen made sense as well.

“Um, yes. Cameras.” Sabrina was blushing now, and half of her face had started turning invisible also, which looked a little strange, like her glasses were hanging on thin air. “I meant to watch over you for Plagg, but I started to root for you and follow your fights, your friendships, your relationships.” She stopped there, and her eyes drifted over to Chat, who was picking at the grime on his gloves and looking around lazily. Marinette didn’t miss the implication there.

“You’ve really cleaned out the place, haven’t you?” Chat asked, seemingly unaware of the conversation at hand, his voice a little sad.

Sabrina dipped her head, looking a little ashamed. “I am the only scientist here. I manage the place all on my own.”

Chat frowned. “Plagg didn’t hire anyone else but you?”

If possible, Sabrina looked even further away, and more of her body was turning invisible until it really just looked like a lab coat and blue and green sweater vest was hovering in front of them. “No one really wanted to be hired after, um, the other scientists, you know.”

Not for the first time, Marinette got the feeling she was missing more than few pieces of information.

For a moment, Chat seemed like he was about to say something else, but he only shut his mouth again, shaking his head a little. Marinette watched as he looked around the lab again, still with that same sad look on his face.

“I…” Sabrina looked between Chat and Marinette for a moment before fixing her gaze on Marinette, her wide smile extremely nervous. “I really wanted your journey to be peaceful, but now that you’ve come this far, I should inform you of a threat I myself have created.”

“What do you mean?” Marinette asked, trying her best to keep her eyes away from Chat, who was now gazing at the files clutched in Sabrina’s arms rather suspiciously.

“Back before you arrived, I helped a friend of mine develop a new body. Since I wasn’t sure if Plagg would approve of me taking on a side project, I told him, and he suggested to make my friend a body that would fit that of a soldier.”

At this, Chat’s eyes visibly widened, and he whipped his head up, shock and fear twisting his features. Sabrina didn’t miss Chat’s sudden change, and she quickly hurried on.

“My friend, however, isn’t much of the soldier type, so I took Plagg’s suggestion with a grain of salt. I made her a new body capable of channeling her magic in sort of a weapon form, but she doesn’t really fight anything.” At this point, Marinette was wondering how this was a threat. “But, ah, it seems she hates humans. It’s sort of her job, since the king himself was the one who suggested it.”

“Do you understand what you’ve done?” Chat demanded, his tone harsher and sharper than anything Marinette had ever heard before.

“Whoa,” she said, placing a hand on Chat’s shoulder. “Slow down a little.”

“No, I won’t slow down!” Chat said, shaking free of Marinette’s hand and advancing on Sabrina, who cowered under Chat’s rage. “Giving that sort of scientific power to the wrong person has real life consequences. That can get to anyone’s head, and it’s never pretty when it does.”

Sabrina’s lip trembled, and Marinette was just about to intervene when she saw Sabrina’s legs start to turn invisible, until her face hardened and she took a step back. Chat was no longer in her face, and she tucked her hair behind her ear. “This isn’t the lab that you worked in, Chat Noir. My methods are very different from the ones that you used, and may I remind you that this is my friend that we’re talking about.” With each word that she spoke, her voice grew more fierce and powerful until she was just as in Chat’s face as he had been in hers.

“It doesn’t matter who we’re talking about,” Chat roared, obviously more upset from Sabrina’s words rather than soothed by them. “Power is a disease, and you just handed it off to someone!”

“I’m a scientist, too, you know! I don’t just experiment on whatever I please and ‘hand off’ anything to anyone without a proper cause! Quit acting like I’m less competent than you.” She closed her eyes and took a deep breath, seemingly trying to reign herself in. “And besides, this is Chloe we’re talking about. She’s more likely to care about her new products or the shows she stars in than Marinette.”

Marinette finally felt as though she could contribute to the conversation without looking like an ignorant fool, so she carefully rested a hand on Chat once more. “Chat,” she said softly, and he sighed deeply.

“I apologize,” he said, sounding sincere. “I didn’t mean to make light of your work, or your methods, but I wasn’t aware you had given Chloe Bourgeois a new body. The phrasing of a ‘body fit for a soldier’” – he seemed to say this bit carefully, as if the words themselves were dangerous – “made me extremely alarmed.”

Sabrina examined his face for a moment, and then she sighed. “It’s alright. You had fair reason to be alarmed, but I can assure you that I’ll do my best to control Chloe the best that I can. Besides there’s no guarantee you two will run into her right now anyway.”

The tense feeling that had filled the room earlier was now relieved a little bit, and Marinette let a sigh of her own escape her mouth.

A loud thumping noise sounded from the wall next to them. Marinette looked at Sabrina. “What-?”

The noise sounded again, making the entire room shake. And then the wall fell in, revealing a terrifyingly beautiful robot that was wearing designer sunglasses on top of her perfectly styled metal blond hair.

“Is that…?” Marinette trailed off, looking over at Sabrina, who had backed away from the wall several steps, a nervous smile on her lips. Marinette looked back at the robot in front of her. “Oh, no.”

“Oh, yes,” Chloe Bourgeois said, her metal and painted pink lips curving up in a smile. “It’s so nice to finally meet the notorious human in the Underground.”

#miraculous tale #miraculous tale fic #when i was writing some of the really intense parts i could feel my very soul just go!!!!!!!!!! because how exciting was that huuuuuhh #also about that other au i have in case anyone is curious #i haven't posted any of the chapters because i find that's more relaxing for me to work on it thatway #but the plot is centered around a modern day paris that also has a bunch of magic and there's people who have alternate personalities as #witches and wizards. adrien finds out about this secret magic in his city and becomes curious to see if magic will help him find his mom #so he goes to the best witch in paris who just so happens to own a small book shop and go by the name ladybug #dun dun DUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUn #hopefully i can get ya'lls support for that one as well #as for my ocs i love them with all my heart and i think i'll keep that to myself as well for a while #as for the plot of that one it takes place in a world different from ours were there are three races: the winged #the ground creatures #and the cave dwellers #the three protagonists from each race band together at the realization that they are set apart from everyone else and fnd themselves #wrapped up in a revolution of a people they've never heard of that is connected to their world in a way that they couldn't even begin #to imagine #is that a good enough summary that intrigues you an makes you want to love my children liike i love them #their names are sage dahlia and emerald if that helps #im always open to talk about them because i love them #im on the first chapter still which follows sage and he's really tired all the time and he misses his dad and he's badat making friends #but that's okay because people wanting to be his friend makes up for it #anyway yeah that's what's happening now #i just love writing so much

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jackwantstoseizethedavey · 7 years

Text

Math is Fun

So, this was born out of the desire to explore what Crutchie would enjoy from school, while still staying within cannon verse. And who better to help out than Les. This 100% self indulgent, so I hope you guys enjoy this as much as I enjoyed writing this.

Crutchie/Les- Friendship

Jack/Les- Friendship

Jack/Crutchie-Friendship

Crutchie/Dave- Friendship

Jack/Davey- Pre-Slash

Bonding YAY!!!

Les and Davey come by the lodging house some (most) afternoons once school gets out, and depending on how Jack's day is going, they'll stay there for a while and then either head back to the Jacobs’s apartment or get up to something with the other boys.

While they’re there, Davey usually makes Les do at least part, if not all, of his school work, to get it out of the way.

It’s hard to do when everyone else is having fun, like they usually are, and it's almost impossible to do when Boots and Tumbler are playing marbles.

Les is trying to concentrate. He really is, but it looks like Tumbler is actually going to win this one, and it's not like usual, where Skittery will stand over the boys until Boots or whoever else is playing, catches on and throws a game or two to be nice.

Les has started to throw the first or second game everytime he plays with Tumbler, just to make sure Skittery doesn’t come over and do that thing with his face. Mother says it's good that Les does that, that it's nice to make sure Tumbler doesn’t feel left out by never winning. Which he guesses is a good enough reason.

But today he has a math assignment, that MUST be done today. On Saturday night, some of the boys are coming over to the apartment for dinner. And he got permission to invite both Tumbler and Boots and he really wants to show them how to play the family board game. And neither of them have ever had matzah ball soup, and that just cannot stand. And it's going to be soooo much fun, he can hardly stay still thinking about. But he manages when Davey glances over and give him The Look.

His parents made it absolutely clear that he can’t cause any trouble leading up to Saturday, and that means especially, that he can’t put off doing any of his homework, and if Les can't show that he finished his everything, then they’ll have to cancel. He doesn’t think he could stomach telling his friends why the plans were cancelled if it came to that.

Looking back at his math book, he wishes someone would do it for him, but he's too old now to get Davey or Sarah to do it for him, they stopped falling for it a while back.

And since Davey’s out of the question that means he wouldn't be able to talk Jack into it, where they sitting together reading something out of a book.

Trying to figure out a way to not have to do this, he attempts to think of anyone else who might believe him. Race might fall for it, but he hasn't come back yet, and while Mush is so nice, he would ask Davey first if he's supposed to help, which wouldn't work.

He thinks about asking Blink for a second, but he's sitting over with Skittery and they both look serious and he doesn't want both to have them both looking at him like that.

Once he gets towards the end of his list, he has to acknowledge that everyone else is either someone he doesn’t want to talk to, or they're not here at the moment. Which really is just plan awful.

Just when he starts to thinks hes actually is going to have to do his assignment himself, he hears his savior making his way up the stairs with his crutch clicking on every other step.

He tries not to stare Crutchie down as he makes his way across the floor, greeting everyone and stopping to chat with Jack for a minute before going to his bed to prop his leg up on a pillow.

Crutchie is perfect, he would be willing to help and he wouldn't ask Davey first, because he hates it when people try to talk to Jack first before helping him with anything. And he’s been selling papes for just as long as anyone else, so he has to know numbers.

So while everyone is distracted by Tumbler running around celebrating his spectacular victory, Les gathers his book and papers and casually strolls over to Crutchie’s bed, trying to make sure no one is paying too much attention to what he’s doing.

Crutchie looks tired, but he greets Les with a big smile like always and pats the empty part of his bed for Les to sit down.

“How's it going kid?” He says as he shifts to give Les a little more room and get more comfortable.

Les and Jack had practiced expressions for a week, until Les could look the right amount of pathetic to whoever he was trying to sell too. And Les had kept up on practicing in the mirror, even though they hardly sell anymore, because it was a useful skill, you never knew when it would be handy, like now for example.

Trying to make sure his face looks the right amount of sad, and making sure his sigh was big but not silly, he looked at his papers and said,

“….it’s fine,” fiddling with the book on his lap.

“Hey! What’s wrong kiddo?” Crutchie sounds curious and touches his arm, which Les takes to mean that he's concerned, just like he planned.

“Huh? It’s nothing really…” He can’t seem too eager or this will never work.

“Oh come on kid,” Crutchie says as he starts to poke Les in the side, “you can tell you old buddy Crutchie what’s wrong.”

Les can’t help but feel proud of himself, that is exactly what he wanted to happen. He feels smug, because apparently he isn’t just being a big ham, no matter what Sarah tried to tell him the other day.

Now to go in for the kill.

“I’m having trouble with my math homework.” The smile that he gives Les, has him concerned for a second, until he says,

“Hey, will that ain’t so bad, all math is, is just numbers right? How about I help you take a look at it, huh?”

“Really!? Thanks!” Crutchie really is the best, Les thinks to himself as he gets his stuff out.

----

He knew that Les could do the work himself, he was a bright kid, and that face he had been giving him was straight out of the “make a sucker buy a pape” handbook. But his leg had been hurting all day, and doing Les’s homework would be a good distraction, and really the kid deserved a break every once and in a while.

Davey was a great fella, but he could be kind of strict with Les. And so, while Crutchie knew the kid was trying to play him, he was going along with it anyways.

Les moved so he was sitting shoulder to shoulder with him at the top of the bed, and then carefully opened his book across both of their laps.

Looking at the assignment, Crutchie’s first thought was that he wasn’t used to dealing in so many numbers at once, but as Les explained what the point was, it ended up making a good deal of sense.

Crutchie always had a good head for numbers, was the go to guy to make sure everyone’s counts were right, and that they weren’t missing anything at the end of the day.

He was trusted, the guys knew he wouldn’t take advantage of the fact that they didn’t know a lot, and he prided himself by doing right by anyone who came to him. Crutchie was definitely the only one who knew what most of the guys had set aside to a rainy day.

Going through the question, he didn’t even realize he was stopped pretending that they were doing the work together until he was almost done, and they were interrupted by someone clearing their throat.

“What are you guys doing?”

Crutchie could feel his face flushing, he thought they would have plenty of time to finish before Jack and Davey wandered over to see what was going on.

With both of them taking in the scene, it wasn’t hard to figure out just what was going on. Les was doodling on pape that had been left lying around, and now looked lost and nervous, and it was obvious that he hadn’t been paying attention to what Crutchie was doing.

Taking the book and paper off of their laps, Davey looked over the work. Jack keeps looking between the three of them, not really sure what he’s supposed to say, but he keeps giving Crutchie a wide-eyed stare, because Davey was completely silent.

Having reviewed everything on the page, Davey almost feels like kicking himself when he sees that Crutchie got all the questions right, which really makes him feel like a heel. Trying to keep his face from flushing, because it’s not like anyone can tell what he’s thinking, he tries to get back to the main issue here. As odd as it may be, being mad has always helped him focus.

“Les, you know you shouldn’t have done this, you know better.” The frustration is his tone is clear to anyone listening.

And Les looks every bit his young age at the moment, like he’s expecting to get in trouble. Which sure, he probably ought to, but that doesn’t mean Crutchie is going to let the kid get lectured to kingdom come.

“Cut him a break Davey, he’s just a little kid, I offered to help him, so I don’t see what the problem is.”

Davey’s indignant face is pretty funny, and it takes a lot of effort not to start smiling.

“It’s his work and it's not right to make you do it.” Les was raised better than that.

Not wanting Les to be in the middle of what looks like it might turn into a full blown argument between the two hotheads. Jack interrupts before they can really get going and tells Les to go sit with the other boys. As he slinks away, Les looks over his shoulder and gives Crutchie a sad nervous look, which Crutchie returns with a reassuring smile. He’s not too worried, he had faced much more angry people than Davey.

“Yeah, that’s true, it was his work, but he’s just a kid Davey, let him have this one”.

“He’s a kid, sure. But, how is he going to learn anything if he just gets to have other people do things for him.” He had thought Les had outgrown that a couple of years ago.

“If it happens again you can get mad all you want, but come on Dave, let's just drop it this time. I promise next time i’ll make sure i just help him, not do it for him”. Crutchie looked intently at Davey and tried to remind him about just what would get messed up if Les got into trouble. Which by a stroke of luck, Boots’s voice rose above everyone else’s as he yelled at Blink to give his hat back.

He could see Davey considering with whether or not to go along with it.

Davey really wanted take the paper and make Les sit and do it again. But they’d have to be home for dinner soon and when they got there the first thing his mother was going to ask was whether or not Les’s homework was done and if he had been good that day.

And really, he didn’t want to explain this to his parents, because then they’d have to cancel having everyone over on the weekend. He was really wishing that he and Jack had sat and talked for a few more minutes before coming over here, then he wouldn’t have to deal with this.

Thinking about it, Davey was upset with Les, sure, but he knew Tumbler and Boots had been excited all week to get invited over to their home. Tumbler had been asking all the guys to tell him what it was like to be in a house, and what he would be expected to do. And Boots had been such a trooper and was giving him a run down every night about what he remember from when he was younger.

Crutchie could see Davey’s resolve was crumbling, but what sealed the deal was Jack leaning over to whisper into his ear. As soon as that happened, Davey got that wide-eyed distracted look that meant he wasn’t thinking about what they were just discussing. Pulling back Jack gave Davey a smile that made Crutchie feel like he was intruding on a moment, even though they were the ones that came over to him.

Returning the smile for a long second before glancing around and seeming to remember that they were not the only people in the room, Davey distractedly continued,

“I guess it’s fine this time, but you have to promise this was a one time thing.”

Catching the wink from Jack, he did his best to keep his face serious.

“Yeah, yeah, I promise. And honestly Dave I didn’t mind it at all, those math things were kind of fun.” And really it had been, it was nice to see numbers that weren’t only coins and papes.

“Fun?” Raising an eyebrow Davey looked over at Jack who just shrugged.

“Yean, fun.” Davey was looking at him with a weird expression, but Crutchie just chalked it up to him still being distracted by what ever Jack had been saying.

Breaking the silence, Jacked nudged Davey and asked Crutchie,

“So, it’s getting late, you going to come with us to have dinner? Mrs. Jacobs was planning on making cabbage tonight.”

“Not tonight, I’m just going to relax and call it in early,” Now that he didn’t have a distraction, he was really feeling his long day, he had had to walk and walk and walk, which usually wasn’t a problem, well not much of a problem, but with the weather cooling down, it had caused his leg to ache, almost without stop.

“Are you sure? Do you want me to bring you something to eat?”

Crutchie always appreciated that Jack never straight out asked if his leg was hurting, but tried to check on him without being overbearing.

“It’s okay, I’ll just go downstairs with the other guys. You fellas go on ahead and I’ll see you later, give my regards to everyone, okay?”

“Okay, well, see you later.” Davey still had a look of consternation on his face, as he turned to go get Les, while Jack hung back for an extra minute.

Les had been staring intently from where he was standing with the other boys, pretending to listen to what Specs was saying. Crutchie and Jack both gave him smiles and he finally allowed himself to relax his shoulders when Davey went to tell him that they were heading home.

Before going to join the Jacobs boys, Jack ruffled Crutchie’s hair and told him,

“Good looking out for the kid. You rest up and I’ll see you tonight okay?”

“Sure Jack, and thank you making sure Dave calmed down.” He didn’t need Jack’s butting in, but it had been helpful.

“Eh, it ain’t so hard to do.” Jack had a smile on his face as he watched Davey handed the homework and book back to Les and told him to collect all his stuff.

Crutchie liked that smile, knowing each other so well over the years, it was always nice to see someone who could pull such a genuine expression from the guy. It was nice to know that Jack was in good hands even when Crutchie couldn’t be there, it eased that tension he always got when Jack would go off without him.

And seeing Jack be a sap was always, entertaining, when Jack looked back, Crutchie widened his smile to keep himself from rolling his eyes at the big dope. Which caused Jack to scowl at him, because apparently that expression was fooling no one.

Saying their goodbyes, Jack followed the other two out of the door, and Crutchie let himself lean back into his pillow to rest for a few minutes before dinner.

---

Two weeks later.

Davey made his way over together to where Crutchie was re-lacing one of his shoes, with a new, well, new to him, piece of twine guys had found.

Looking up, Crutchie asks him, “What’s on your mind Davey?” He was shifting from side to side, like he wasn’t sure what he was doing, which Crutchie was pretty sure he hadn’t seen him do for quite a while.

“I got something for you.”

Looking back down to make sure he was pulling the twine through the right hole, he tried to figure out the best response. It wasn’t uncommon for the boys to come by with things for him, Mrs. Jacobs liked to send food fairly often. And she was such a genuinely kind person, that is never felt like pity or charity, the way it did with most other people. But typically those instances didn’t start off with an awkward Davey.

“Okay….what do you have?” It was probably best to get to the point in this case.

“Here”

The book slips out of Davey’s fingers faster than he was obviously trying to, and when it lands in Crutchie’s lap, a small cloud of dust rises from the old pages.

Davey’s face is red, and before Crutchie can tell him he doesn’t need to apologize, he starts sneezing. Taking the piece of old shirt he used as a handkerchief, Crutchie wipes at his face before looking down at the book.

“Why are you giving me math book?” He asks as he opens the book and starts to flip through the yellowing pages.

“Umm...well...you see. I-I wasthinking…” Crutchie couldn’t help but feel for the guy.

“Why don’t you sit on down and start again?”

Davey plops down next to him with a big sigh, which Crutchie pretends not to hear, and then he starts again, thankfully more slowly.

“Umm, I thought you might like to see some of the math problems that we see at school. You had, umm, you had said that helping Les out with his math had been fun. And our neighbor had this old book that they were getting rid of, and I figured that you could look at it if you want, and uh...yeah.”

“You remembered that?” That was practically a lifetime ago, had Davey really been thinking about that since then?

“Yeah, of course I did, that’s what friends do right?........But, if you, uh if you don’t want it, you don’t have to take it. You don’t need to feel obliga-”

Hey! Hey, hold on a second” He needed to explain before Davey really got going. “Of course that what friends do. I really appreciate it, i just kinda forgot about it. But really this is great Davey, are you sure you don’t need this book though?” This was a great book, it looked like it had so much stuff in it.

He wasn’t sure how he was going to learn it all, but if he got to keep the book, he was damn sure going to figure it all out. He wasn’t sure why someone would give up a perfectly good book, but who was he to point out someone else’s mistake.

“I’m sure, I already have one myself, and uh, if you have any questions about it, you can ask me.” Davey couldn’t be sure if that was the best way to offer, he didn’t want to insult Crutchie, but if the smile on Crutchie’s face was anything to go off of, the offer got across just fine.

“Sure Davey! That would be great. Do you think we could look at some now?” He didn’t have any paper, but the pencil in his pocket and the margins should be good enough.

“Yeah, of course, um, lets see, where do you want to start?”

When Jack found the two about an hour later, he had to stand back and take a moment to appreciate that his two best friends were getting along just as well as he had been hoping they would. Deciding that they could wait another little while before pulling them away to go get dinner, Jack turned back around and went to see what the other guys were up to.

#newsies #newsies fanfiction #newsies fanfic #crutchie #les jacobs #davey jacobs #jack kelly #DaSRaA

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nitewrighter · 7 years

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I know you have a few already but... #14 pregnant Mercy w/ couple of your choice keeping her company while daddy Genji is away on a mission.

To quote my boyfriend: “I saw ‘daddy genji’ out of context and felt true fear.”

Trufacts though I put this one off so long because I immediately had a million ideas about it and okay this prompt is super self indulgent but god I can’t not write it.

-deep inhale-

Okay lets do this.

14. “Did you ever expect your life was going to be like this?

Featuring BunnyRibbit.

—-

Mercy was leaning on the bathroom counter, holding her phone to her ear and trying not to glance down at the test next to her.

“Well, it’s definitely a positive,” Doctor Haberlin said on the other end of the phone.

“But the subject was undergoing sustained biotic treatment—years of biotic treatment,” said Mercy, “That couldn’t ring in a false positive?”

“Doctor Ziegler—you were one of the leading minds behind biotic development–You know biotics don’t generate spontaneous hCG production, and judging by the subject’s age there’s no reason why they would start now aside from the obvious. By the looks of these test results they’re probably… well I’d give them four weeks along at this point?”

“Four weeks,” Mercy just repeated the words dumbly after Doctor Haberlin.

“Ja! Tell the subject congratulations for me,” said Haberlin.

“Thank you,” Mercy said hollowly.

“What?”

“I mean—thank you for the test results,” said Mercy, “Always glad to have a second opinion.”

Mercy ended the call and rubbed her forehead and glanced down at the test, picked it up and looked at it again. So…this was happening. She took a calming inward breath, then felt eyes on her. She turned to see Hana Song standing stone-still in the bathroom doorway, a pink gum bubble on her lips. She dropped the test and it clattered into the sink. Both stared at each other for a few seconds.

“…How much did you hear?” said Mercy, straightening up.

D.Va’s bubble popped and she perked up as if snapping out of a trance. “How much did I–? Nothing. Nope. I didn’t hear anything. Was I supposed to—Were you on the phone just now because I didn’t hear—”

“Hana,” Mercy said flatly.

“You’re pregnant,” said D.Va, and then she repeated it to herself as if it didn’t sound real, “You’re pregnant.”

Mercy cleared her throat and drew herself up to her full height, attempting to remain as composed as possible. “Yes,” she said.

“Is it Genji’s?” said D.Va.

“Wh–of course it’s Genji’s! Why wouldn’t it be Genji’s?” said Mercy.

D.Va shrugged. “Honestly I was never sure if he had a–”

“Never mind,” Mercy cut her off.

D.Va leaned against the bathroom counter, “Wow…” she said, “So what did Genji say?”

Mercy folded her arms, “He…” she exhaled, “He doesn’t know yet.”

D.Va gasped, then coughed, then swallowed hard. “Sorry, I inhaled my gum,” she said, clearing her throat, before resuming her previous shock, “He doesn’t know!?”

“He’s on a mission and I only got it confirmed just now!” said Mercy, “It’s not like I can just call him up and be like, ‘Oh hello, Genji, I know you’re busy with the mission, but I thought I should just let you know I’m carrying your child! Okay! Don’t get distracted! Ich liib dich!’” She then mimed hanging up a phone.

D.Va snorted but then her eyes widened, “Wait–so I’m the first person who knows?!”

“…by complete accident,” said Mercy.

“Woah…” said D.Va.

“And I would really appreciate it if we kept this between us for the time being,” said Mercy.

“You got it, Doc,”said D.Va, saluting, “I’m a steel trap. I didn’t hear a thing. I’m not going to–I just remembered I came in here because I really had to pee and got sidetracked by this pregnancy thing so hold that thought.” D.Va quickly stepped into one of the stalls and shut the door and exhaled. Mercy sighed and glanced down at the pregnancy test in the sink. She wondered if she should throw it away. She knew some people kept them for sentimental reasons but it struck her as sort of unsanitary.

“So,” D.Va spoke from inside the stall, “If it’s Genji’s… is it going to be… part cyborg or something?”

“We didn’t alter any genes with his cyberization, so no,” said Mercy.

“What about like, a biotic superbaby?”

“That’s ridic—” Mercy started and then paused, “Actually, I’m not sure.”

The toilet flushed and D.Va stepped out of the stall and washed her hands, “Oh man, Hanzo’s going to flip when he finds out,” she said, glancing up.

“Which is why we’re keeping this between us until Genji gets back,” said Mercy.

“Gotcha,” said D.Va.

–

Several hours later, Mercy and D.Va were seated on the same couch in the Watchpoint’s lounge. Mercy was leafing through some patient files on her tablet while D.Va busied herself with a handheld game, when D.Va suddenly sat bolt upright.

“What about the dragons?” she said.

Mercy glanced up. “What?”

“What about the dragons!?” D.Va asked urgently, “The baby’s going to be a Shimada so what if it summons a dragon and then the dragon just—pwooooar–” Diva mimicked an explosion out of her stomach with her hands, “Bursts out of your stomach like in the old Sci-Fi movies?”

Mercy glanced up at D.Va from her tablet and stared at her for several seconds before saying, “…I highly doubt that could happen.”

“What’s bursting out of Doctor Z’s stomach now?” said Lúcio, walking into the room and pulling his headphones off.

“Nothing!” D.Va said before winking at Mercy. Lúcio looked between them, somewhat unconvinced.

“Okay…?” he said slowly.

“Doctor Z’s pregnant,” D.Va blurted out.

“Hana!” Mercy said sharply.

“Sorry!” said D.Va, rubbing the back of her neck, “I can’t lie to him. Look at him!”

“Look, it’s fine,” said Lúcio, leaning against the couch, “Just uh… congratulations and… you don’t need to worry about me saying anything?” He scoffed a little, “Hanzo’s going to flip, though,” he said, snickering.

“That’s what I said!” said D.Va.

“And that is why I said we need to be discreet about this, but you immediately told Lúcio and—ugh,” Mercy pinched the bridge of her nose, “I would just appreciate if half the Watchpoint didn’t find out about this before the father.”

“You got it,” said Lúcio. A long silence passed between the three of them. “So…” Lúcio glanced up at Mercy, “How are you holding up?”

“I feel fine,” said Mercy with a shrug.

“Pretty big deal,” said Lúcio.

“Yeah…” Mercy said with a slight laugh in her voice. She ran a hand through her her hair then hugged herself a little, “It doesn’t feel real yet.” She bit the inside of her lip, “I feel silly for saying this but… between losing my parents and Overwatch falling, I lost two families in my life.” her hug of herself tightened slightly, “What I have now, it feels fragile, like it can be taken away at any moment—and it can. Even now Genji’s on a mission and I have no idea if he’s—” She caught herself and shook her head. She knew how easy it was for those thoughts to consume everything in her mind.

“Hey,” D.Va reached forward and put a hand on her shoulder, “It’s like you always tell us: You’ve got this.”

“You’re gonna do great,” said Lúcio.

Mercy chuckled a little and leaned back in her seat. “Unless a dragon bursts out of me like in the old sci-fi movies,” she said, looking at D.Va with a wry grin.

“I’m just saying, we gotta be prepared,” said D.Va.

Mercy laughed.

#Gency #Bunnyribbit #overwatch #pregnancy cw

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