#and someone complimented my hair EEEEEE

[skyeateyourdonuts]

okie gn (when i get home at least lol)

[kellbellsparkles]

A Ratchet x Talwyn one shot story called "Special Child" told through the eyes of their special needs hybrid daughter, Reena

Hello. My name is Reena Pan Apogee Dipper. I'm almost five-years-old. I live with my Mommy, Daddy, and bestest friend, my Uncle Clank. We're always together. They tell me I'm a very special child. It makes me happy when they're happy. That's why I try not to cry when I feel pain. They give me a special medicine everyday to make it go away. It helps when they hug me and kiss me, too. 

Daddy made me a super comfy chair on wheels that's my favorite color: red. He added seats and seatbelts for my teddies so we can play and be together forever. I love my blankie my Mommy gave me. Mommy and Daddy said, "it's a ray of sunshine for our ray of sunshine".

I would like it if I could play with the other kids. We could ride down a hill like the roller coasters I've seen on TV. I wonder if Daddy could help me walk like he made my chair for me all by himself. I decided that's what I want for my birthday. 

I asked Daddy, "Daddy, can you make me a way to walk for my birthday?"

He didn't say yes or no. He petted my head and put Uncle Clank on my lap.

"How about Uncle Clank tells you a story before bedtime?" 

"But Daddyyyy…."

I didn't understand why he didn't answer me. He just wheeled me to my bed, unbuckled my seatbelts, picked me up, and tucked me in.

"I love you, sunshine," Daddy said. He kissed my head

"I love you, too, Daddy…."

He left and closed the door. I had Uncle Clank with me, but I was still sad and confused.

"What's happening, Uncle Clank? Why did Daddy do that?"

Uncle Clank held my hand.

"Reena," he said. His eyes looked so sad to me. "Your Mommy and Daddy love you very much. They want you to have a happy, healthy life."

"I know," I said. "But Daddy didn't answer my question."

"You are going to be five tomorrow, yes?"

"Uh huh."

"I think it is important for you to know the truth now so you can better understand when you are older. Your Mommy and Daddy are different from one another. Your birth is unlike anything the universe has ever seen. It has come with its set of challenges that children will never know or should have to know."

"But challenges are meant to be won."

"Sometimes. You are not wrong, Reena. However, some challenges are too great and too difficult to defeat. Your Mommy and Daddy don't always let you have what you want to teach you discipline and to appreciate what you have. At other times, they are absolutely unable to give you what you want."

"Unable to? Even if they really wanted to?"

"That is correct." 

I could feel myself about to cry even though I made a self promise not to. 

"So I may never be able to walk? Or play with the other kids?"

"There will be a way for you to play with the other kids. I know there will. I promise. It is just your Mommy and Daddy are very protective of you and have not seen a way to make play time safe for you and they fear the other kids will not understand."

"Sure they'll understand. They all seem so nice and look like they're having fun all the time." 

Then, I heard Mommy crying in the hall. 

"Oh dear," Uncle Clank said. He tried to take out my hearing aids, but I didn't let him. I held my hands over my ears.

"Don't take them!" I begged.

"But children should not be concerned by their parents's worries. They are not your responsibility."

"But--"

"Talwyn," I heard Daddy say. "It's going to be okay."

"Please stop saying that!" I heard Mommy cry. "We both know it's my fault she's like this!"

"That's in the past. We need to focus on what we can do for her now."

"What we're doing now isn't getting rid of the curse! She doesn't deserve to live the rest of her life in agony! Isn't it terrible that her own mother is thinking she'd be better off in heaven?? Just say it!!" 

Clank hugged me suddenly.

"Do not mind them," he told me. "They are having an adult conversation."

Curse. Heaven. Those words played over and over in my head.

"Uncle Clank?" I said. "Am I cursed?"

He laid down with me, still hugging me.

"Reena, what I am about to tell you must be our secret, alright? Your Mommy and Daddy never wanted you to know this."

I hugged Uncle Clank back tightly. I had never felt so scared in my life.

"Okay, Uncle Clank."

"Before you were born, your Mommy and Daddy did not always get along. Your mother turned to a drug that made her bad feelings disappear, but it didn't make them stay away. That's what drugs do: they make us think you feel better but they do the exact opposite and make us hurt the ones we love."

"That's exactly what Captain Qwark said."

"And he is absolutely right. What do we do when someone offers us alcohol or an unknown substance?"

"We say no!"

"That is a good girl." 

Uncle Clank stroked my hair. I always love it when he, Daddy, and Mommy do that.

"When the drug lost its effect," Uncle Clank added. "Your Mommy entered a dangerous and illegal racing competition to the death. Think of any possible bad thing a criminal can do, they gathered there."

"But Mommy wasn't a criminal…. Was she?"

"She was not. The race also attracted lost people with no help and nowhere to go. She was alone and could have been killed at any moment. At the same time, you were in her tummy. A competitor cast a spell on you while you were still inside. The spell was that you could never die, even if you were to be born too soon. That is exactly what happened. If not for the spell, then you most certainly would not have had a chance to live."

"But Mommy called it a curse. Why?"

My chest started to hurt.

"Should I be alive?"

"Reena," Uncle Clank said in a very gentle voice. "Sweetie, none of this is your fault. Maybe it will help if I ask you this: do you like being alive?" 

"Of course! I have you, Mommy, Daddy, and my toys! I don't care if I can never walk or have to keep taking medicine! I want to stay with everyone!" 

I broke my promise and cried. Uncle Clank kept stroking my hair.

"Do you know what else?" he said. "You get to have birthday cake. What is your favorite type of cake again?"

"Ch-chocolate cheesecake."

"It is really yummy, yes?"

"Mmhm…." 

"And you know what compliments birthday cake? A scoop of ice cream. What is your favorite kind of ice cream?"

"Cotton candy." 

"And what do you like to drink?"

"Strawberry kiwi lemonade!" 

I started to feel tons better and be excited for my birthday again. 

"Oh dear," Uncle Clank said. "I feel like I am forgetting what else happens on a birthday. Could you help me remember, Reena?" 

"Presents!! And singing Happy Birthday and blowing out the candles!! Smashing a pinata and getting all the candy that falls out!! Playing Pin the tail on the Flabberfish!!" 

"Oh yes, that is right. But I feel there is one thing missing. Before all that, what are we going to have for lunch?"

"Pizzaaaaaaaa!!"

"And I just so happen to have acquired the ten coupons needed for a single large cosmic crust pizza. With stuffed crust." 

"Eeeeee!!"

Me and Uncle Clank hummed and giggled all happy and excited for my birthday. I want it to be the best birthday ever for my Mommy and Daddy, too.

[lacrimosathedark]

SING

Ok, so, this was my first posted work on AO3 and it’s kinda lame, but y’know what, why not? I was inspired by listening to My Chemical Romance and, go figure, thought of Virgil. So have some Virgil comfort.

Warnings: Loneliness, lack of self care, self-imposed isolation

Original linkage: here

Taglist: @rose-raindrop @a-valorous-choice @xxfangirlanonymousxx @asterias-confused-writings

Thomas was not OK.

Joan was gone for the weekend, and they were texting but it wasn’t the same. And everyone else, Talyn, Valerie, Terrence, etc., seemed to have just...more important stuff to do.

A familiar, raspy voice grumbled in his ear. “Don’t text them, you could bother them.” “They don’t need you.” “Nothing really matters.”

This had been going on for two going on three days. Thomas barely got out of bed, and when he did, it was only to eat, bathe, and use the facilities. And he spent a very long time in the shower, just thinking these despair-inducing thoughts.

This was such a severe depression, that the Sides knew that Anxiety was influencing him, and he could stop. But they couldn’t get to him.

He had, in a sense, locked his room. There was a...barrier of sorts keeping the others out.

Logan tried to calm him by pushing logical thoughts at him. “Thomas’ friends would not abandon him without warning.” “Having important things to do does not mean that they no longer care for Thomas.” “Being busy does not mean that they do not like him.” “We are here and you are as moderately safe as a person could be on an average day.”

This usually helped, but today it didn’t. Not substantially, anyways.

Patton cooed lovingly, willing his words to reach Virgil even when his “body” could not. He made food he knew Thomas, and by extension Virgil, liked and willed it into Virgil’s room.

Usually an empty plate, and on rare occasion a scribbled thank you note, would return when the food had been consumed. None of the dishes returned.

Roman decided to try his hand at it. He knew it would require thought, and decided to sit in the main room, where he could be influenced by all of them for inspiration, to figure out the best course of action. He needed it to be very him, as the others had been, but it also had to reach out to Anxiety.

Virgil was on the stairs (as Thomas was currently curled up in the living room re-watching Steven Universe in a vain effort to comfort himself), hidden under a pile of blankets. He had contemplated sitting on the counter, or the table, but he decided he would rather just not move, so he hid from the sun through his dark curtains and layers of blankets.

The other Sides had been more welcoming lately, much more after he’d tried to...whatever. But he was still the odd one out. He may be one of them, but he didn’t fit in quite so neatly.

That, and Thomas was without his friends for a few days, and that always made everything much worse for Virgil. Being distracted and comforted by his friends made everything easier to cope with.

Logan had tried to calm him with, duh, logic. It usually helped, even just a little, but it hadn’t put much of a dent in his shield of depression.

Patton had made him food. Virgil didn’t have the motivation to eat anything but felt too guilty about not wanting it to send it back.

Roman hadn’t even tried. And that probably hurt Virgil most. He had always been shunned most by Princey, more than Logan. Patton had never shunned him (though he had looked at him with disappointment a few times). Roman had gone out of his way to make up dumb, “witty” insults. My Chemically Imbalanced Romance was secretly his favorite. He would never admit either to how his heart (that surprisingly, yes, he had) skipped when Roman had nearly complimented his outfit, and just how amused he was when the prince tried to correct the mistake.

Prince didn’t like him. It was still pretty obvious. He appreciated him, maybe, sometimes, but as a whole he thought Anxiety was a nuisance. He always had and always would. It was kind of a crushing thought.

“Sing it out, boy, you’ve got to see what tomorrow brings.”

Virgil blinked and poked his hooded head out from under his aptly-named comforter. He was alone in the room. Where was that voice coming from?

“Sing it out, boy, you’ve got to be what tomorrow needs.”

He followed the sound with his eyes. It sounded almost like it was coming from the TV. But Virgil had it turned off in his room...

“For every time that they want to count you out, use your voice every single time you open up your mouth.”

Roman. Roman’s corner, that’s where it came from. Roman was...singing at him?

“Sing it for the boys, sing it for the girls, every time that you lose it sing it for the world!”

But...why was he singing at Virgil? Why this song, a song he thought Princey would never willingly listen to in his life?

“Sing it from your heart! Sing it til you’re nuts! Sing it out for the ones that’ll hate your guts!”

Virgil paused. He knew the song, of course. He knew every My Chemical Romance song they’d ever recorded. But he was certain Roman hadn’t. Or would never admit it.

“Sing it for the deaf! Sing it for the blind! Sing about everyone that you left behind! Sing it for the world! Sing it for the world!”

Why? Why why why? Whywhywhywhywhy?

“Sing it out, boy, they’re gonna sell what tomorrow means.”

Virgil ran his hands through his hair, trying to get his sluggish brain to think, think, THINK.

“Sing it out, boy, before they kill what tomorrow brings.”

Boy. He said boy. The line says “girl”. Prince would never mess up a line, not without Anxiety’s influence, anyway. So what--

Virgil’s jaw dropped.

He was being serenaded.

Serenaded a My Chemical Romance song.

By Roman.

“You’ve got to make a choice if the music drowns you out, and raise your voice every single time they try and shut your mouth.”

Reluctantly, Virgil allowed Roman into his room. The Prince startled to silence as he looked around, recognizing fondly the Nightmare Before Christmas poster, but locking eyes with the bundle of fabric on the web-covered staircase.

“Hello...Virgil,” he began hesitantly.

“What are you doing?” Virgil asked blankly.

“I was...singing?”

“Sing.”

“Um, I--”

“No, the name of the song,” Virgil said. “That’s the song you were singing. Sing.”

Roman hesitated. “Y-eeeeees...”

“Why?”

“Well, you know I love to--”

“Sing, yes, I know, but that...” Virgil growled in frustration, looking at the prince with heavily blackened eyes. “Why sing My Chemical Romance? Why sing it at me?”

Roman avoided eye contact but said, in his usual proud manner, “Why would I not? A prince can not ignore someone in distress!”

Virgil noted he didn’t answer that first question. “And you thought the best way was to...sing at me?”

“Well, the others certainly weren’t helping!” he said haughtily. Virgil snorted. Roman gasped. “How dare you! This is what I get for trying to help?”

Virgil sighed. “Look, I’m just...having a...bad day.”

“For three days.”

Virgil blinked. “What?”

“You’ve been isolated from us, and Thomas has been depressed and inconsolable, for three days.” Roman said.

“It’s...that’s...not possible...” Virgil mumbled, looking down, brow furrowed.

“It is the truth. I have no reason to lie,” Roman said, his usual pompous air tainted by his worried expression. “Come out and join us in the main room. I’m certain Patton will make you whatever you want. Perhaps we can get Logan to watch a Disney movie with us?”

Virgil’s frown deepened. “Why are you trying so hard? You don’t even like me.”

Now was Roman’s turn to frown. “Now wherever did-- ah, I mean...yes, quite, that had been the case, but...since coming to, eh, understand you better, I have gained a new appreciation for what you contribute. I had hoped we could be...friends?”

Virgil looked at him blankly. “You want to be friends. With me.”

“Yes!” Roman said, sounding slightly exasperated. He sighed. “Perhaps I should just go--”

“No--no!” Anxiety said, abruptly standing up. When Roman looked at him, Virgil’s cheeks flushed and he looked away pointedly. “I’ll, uh, take you up on that movie offer.”

“Stupendous!” Roman said, excitedly. “I’ll fetch the others. Meet you in the main room?”

“Yeah. I’ll...be there in a sec,” he said. With a nod, Roman sunk out.

Three days. Three friggin days he’d been here. And Thomas had been doing nothing all that time? Had he eaten? Had he been looking out for his things? Had he called his friends? Showered? Cleaned? Was he OK?

“Virgil!~ Anxiety!~” a kind voice called from the window space. “Come on, kiddo! I’m making popcorn, just for you!~”

Virgil sighed. “OK, step one to helping Thomas is chilling the heck out.” He took a deep breath (in for 4, hold for 7, out for 8), and sunk out of his room, blankets in tow, and appeared in their commons.

“There you are, buddy!” Patton said, running up and hugging him too tightly, as he does.

“I was beginning to worry that I would have to retrieve you myself!” Roman said.

“Join us. We’ve chosen a film you will enjoy,” Logan said, patting the seat between him and Roman. He had a book in his lap, and clearly had little to no intention of watching, but he was there and that was what mattered.

They tried to help him. Even if they’d failed at first, it mattered.

After the movie, Virgil definitely did not serenade himself with Sing by My Chemical Romance in the bathroom mirror and pretend he was Roman singing to him.

“Cleaned up corporation progress, dying in the process, children that can talk about it living on the webways, people moving sideway, sell it til your last days, buy yourself a motivation. Generation Nothing, nothing but a dead scene, product of a white dream. I am not the singer that you wanted, but a dancer. I refuse to answer, talk about the past, sir. Wrote it for the ones who want to get away. Keep running.”

And if Roman might’ve heard him, and felt his heart sing in time, he would never say either. Because that would be embarrassing.

Sing it for the boys, sing it for the girls, every time that you lose it sing it for the world! Sing it from your heart, sing it til you’re nuts, sing it out for the ones that’ll hate your guts! Sing it for the deaf, sing it for the blind, sing about everyone that you left behind! Sing it for the world! Sing it for the world!

After that night, Thomas knew he would be OK somehow and his sunshine smile was back where it belonged.