#kindly ignore how I can't draw children

[crow-eyed]

god I love baby Diana and all her little monster friends so much!!! I just had to redraw this

(see more of my stuff here)

[stuffymcstuffsworld]

Let's play a game!

Okay, so maybe you took things a little too far... in your defense, Furfur definitely started it! I mean, picking on your kids like that was just asking for trouble. Borderline begging. So you were unaware the boys would be working at a bar as "training" if it could even be called that.

But once they saw you, they tried desperately to keep their mentor away from you and telling you to run. You just eyed the so-called general. "Hey, cutie, wanna spend some time with me?" You suppose he was trying to appeal himself to you... somehow? It didn't work for obvious reasons. He was playfully flipping a coin that you noticed both your boys glaring at. Jazz, you could somewhat understand as he was the more emotional of the two but allocer as well? Curious.

"I'm afraid I don't devote any part of myself much less my time to someone who can't raise my... intreset." Your pause was brief, but heavily implying your word play. Combing your hand through your hair. You glanced at him rather boredly. "Oh! Is that a fact?" His tail waved back and forth, seeming rather pleased with your indifference. You tried not to laugh as you imagined him being a fish that took the bait.

"It is," you respond with a nod, waving the children away. "And seeing as you have nothing of value for me, I don't see any reason to continue this conversation." Making your way towards the bar with the demon hot on your heels. "Don't be like that! I'm sure we can find something to benefit us both." You watched as his eyes trailed down your body, and you couldn't prevent yourself from snorting.

"You say that, but...." You crossed your legs as you leaned against the bar now elbows resting casually on top. "Daddy didn't raise a dummy." You teased suitably, reminding him of your tet raked father, with narrowed eyes. "If you had something to wager, that would be a different story." You sighed forelornly.

"Wager!? Would you like to make a bet?" You could see the boys in the corner of your eyes trying to warn you. But you ignored their frantic attempts. "Oh? What do you have that I could possibly want?" Your voice mocking, but your inner self was cheerfully waving a banner and cackling like a second-rate Disney villain.

"What about them?" He gestures to his two trainees, and you pretended to freeze. Looking at him, you kept your voice low so as not to draw any attention. "What about the children?" He grinned, thinking he had caught you. "They've raked up a large debt, and of course, being their mentor, I kindly added mine to there's as well." You vaguely heard Jazz's and Allocer's voices behind you pleading not to go against him.

"They seem afraid. It must be pretty steep." A demon walked over and handed you a piece of paper. You eyed the amount written down. "So you wish to play using the children's debt as collateral. I must say congratulations, you have my attention." Turning your head, you locked eyes with Allocer, then Jazz. "This is going to take a while, darlings, sit down while the general and I come to terms of agreement. Do not go back to work until I tell you to understand?"

They reluctantly nodded worried expressions clear as day on their faces. They were gonna have to work on that, but they're still learning. Returning your gaze to your challenger, you smiled. "Let's play a game!" You cheerful tone slipping free as the greed took over you.

Furfur seemed to have matching thoughts as their own greedy smile shined through. "Don't cry when you lose, cutie!" As he held out a deck of cards. "I love cards! What are we playing, Poker? Rummy? BS? Gin?" Was your only response.

*five hours later*

Thus leading to you both getting carried away between drinking and playing. Playing against a Demon was so much fun. They knew the best ways to cheat and, of course, how to keep games going for hours on end.

During the game, if you had spotted fou play, you pointed it out to the boys choosing to use it as learning experiences rather than taking offense. Fur fur would get excited when you would point them out or make teasing comment about you letting him cheat. Your ingenious response had been. "Cheat all you want. That just means you can't complain if you lose." Lighting a fire in the demonic general.

Both boys had fallen asleep at this point. Jazz with his head on your shoulder, and Allocer snuggled up to your legs. Both you and your opponent stopped temporarily to take pictures and coo over the cute actions.

Well, at this point, you had cut the debts amount in half. Maybe if you had more time, you could do more, but it was already three in the morning. The bar would be closing soon. "Should we make this the last round tonight?" You asked while drawing a card from the deck.

Then general hummed in thought. "We should put those two to bed at least." You chuckled. "Awe, you do care. How adorable." The large demon scoffed. "As if you don't." As he discarded two cards.

"How could I not care? I do adore all my children." You beamed happily thinking of the misfit class. "That just not natural. See, I care cause those two are my lackeys now. But why is it that you care for that whole class. I mean, I know one of them is yours, but it still doesn't mean that you gotta care for all of them. Demons only look out for their own kind."

"You're wrong." The statement rang clearly thought the bar. Not a shout or even a curse. But the firm tone left no room for arguments. "It's as natural as it can be, and I'll the you why." Placing down your cards to reval a royal flush. "I'm greedy, and I love my family. So naturally, with me being so greedy, I'd want more family to love. Biologically, yes, iruma is an only child. But I can see it already. He's built unbreakable bonds with his classmates."

You reached out and patted both boys' heads as they clung closer in their sleep. "The children have accepted this fact and have reached out to me as well. Who am I to deny them the desire of comfort? Or for the need of a parent's affection? I am the person they chose. And I will greedily keep them until my last breath. They are mine just as I am theirs."

Watching Furfur as he tossed his own cards down, you saw a pair of 8's and a pair of 6's with a jack. You had won. The general laughed it was a full laugh that seemed to shake the room. "Damn, you're a lot of things, but at least you ain't boring." You beamed once more, a bright an warm look as you told him. "Let's play again sometime!"

[deviantartdramahub]

4 notes

Ugh no, I dislike Marian bc she manipulated my friend Tam. She kept blocking then unblocking him, putting them in some kind of sick cat-and-mouse game. She always tried manipulating him away from me and Club, and her behavior was intolerable. Ik you're all for innocents getting manipulated, but I ain't dealing with it, dear.

3 notes

Honey what's so hard to understand that what was said was an OBVIOUS TYPO? That's why I paid no mind to it at first, BC I USED MY GODDAMN BRAINS! YOU WERE CLEARLY JUST USING IT AS AN OPPORTUNITY TO FURTHER HARASS CLUB! HE HID THE COMMENT BC YOU WERE FALSELY ACCUSING HIM OVER IT! Club isn't a groomer, and the people saying he is are either ableist trolls like you wanting a "good" excuse to harass someone, or they're misinformed people who were manipulated by said trolls. How many times will we have to explain it, smh. I would never support actual groomers (such as you lmao), but Club ISN"T ONE.

2 notes

Uhhh prettyyyy suree Loveless is the one stalking Club, lol. Wouldn't you be as paranoid as he was if you were getting endlessly slandered and harassed like that? Ugh. You do WAY worse to your enemies.

3 notes

Uh okay and you're just as bad as Sam. Only you're a whole group of people doing this shit. So in a way ig you're worse LMAO...also what happened wasn't Club or Tam's fault so quit making it up as it is.

3 notes

No Tam probably just wanted to defend their friend, why do you assume everything is Club's fault? I swear, one day they'll blame him for the birth of Hitler. And you know what's fucked up? Seeing Tam as nothing but a minion bc of his age. Oh and for the record, you DO lash out and attack them. All the damn time lmao. Do I even have to link the examples???

2 notes

Bro stop acting like Club's manipulating me when YOU'RE the ones clearly doing it! And just bc I'm a kid doesn't mean I can't say no! Saying children can't stand up for themselves is just wrong. But the reason I don't is bc I GENUINELY APPRECIATE AND CARE ABOUT CLUB! I HAVE NOTHING AGAINST HIM! And if you did think this was true, why did you harass me later on for "not saying no" then? Tsk tsk tsk. And he supports all minorities. But when he made those cute little pride flag drawings YOU MADE FUN OF HIM FOR IT!

2 notes

Sweetheart if you're so sorry for us then stop contributing to our harassers and also quit accusing us of being future pedophiles. Just ew. Be ashamed of yourself now 7-7

0 notes

Not all of the hub attacked me, it was probably only Sam. Tri has always been friendly towards me and the whole group shouldn't be blamed for this. Keep in mind this is a place where ANYONE and EVERYONE is allowed to talk! Both good and bad people! Bc unlike you, Tri's actually fair. And unlike this group, YOUR ENTIRE GROUP WANTS TO HARASS ME!

6 notes

"why do this? is it cuz he gives you crappily drawn art? Is it cuz he tells you stupid shit like 'happy april hurr de durr’ is it cuz he gives you points and core which is WORTHLESS in the grander scheme of things?" Nah it's bc he's our friend and ya'll just salty you don't have any real ones 7w7

"If you continue to ignore this then sorry we are not going to protect you anymore if you are that brainwashed by that shit stained loser Club." Sweetie please you saying you were EVER protecting me is just gross. Kindly fuck off, if you really want me to be safe <3 (Which btw you don't, you're just disgusting manipulators.)

7 notes

Smh I'm his friend, and listening to a friend's problems IS THE LEAST YOU CAN DO FOR THEM! Club was NEVER trying to harm me! I'm completely fine with being there for him! BC HE'S MY FUCKING FRIEND! Is this how you would react to a friend of yours if they asked if they could vent to you? Just pitiful. If you don't have the emotional energy to listen to someone at the moment, politely tell them so like a normal person jfc.

3 notes

The only reason why he felt the need to seek validation from his friends is BECAUSE OF YOUR GOD-AWFUL TREATMENT OF HIM! You think you can do all the things you did and expect him to still be in a good mental health-state and have good self-thoughts? You think you can gang up on him and tell him he's a terrible person and expect him to not be insecure, scared, self-conscious, OR ANY OF THAT? You need to grow up and learn that your actions HAVE FUCKING CONSEQUENCES, YOU GODDAMN SELFISH 6-YEAR-OLDS! But then again, you would never in your life care if you ever hurt a person, now would you?

Sighhhhh I think that's enough for now lol -w-

Bye, see you tomorrow evening, and sorry for this big one, hehe.

That’s alright. Some people like them have explaining to do, more than they ever can or will.

Regarding the eighth point, admittedly things have improved a lot ever since that was a problem. I can guarantee these days Sam is a non-issue, he may come around but would have his hands tied by better paradigms when he does.

[neakco]

Heroes Are Made When You Make A Choice

AO3

Inspired heavily by the song Hero-Red Pill Mix by Superchick.

Deals with stepping up to be a hero against bullies.

Some characters may be a little OOC.

This is not a sad story, it is an inspirational one. Or that is my hope.

Warning heavy bullying and suicide themes.

The story is definitely better if you have at least heard the song.

This hasn't been beta read.

The boy was sitting all alone again. Marinette may have only been at this school for a week but even she knew his isolation wasn’t by choice. She didn’t know his name but she could clearly see his pain. She had no idea if he had said or done something to be isolated but to her, it didn’t matter. No one deserves to be hated like that.

Marinette had gotten up to join the boy at his table when a girl stepped in front of her.

“You don’t want to talk to that loser.” She sneered slightly, “Tell you what if you go over there and accidentally dump your lunch on him than you can come and sit with me and my friends.”

Marinette was completely shocked. She had switched to this school to avoid bullies; not to become one.

The girl saw took Marinette’s quiet as indecisiveness. “You do this and you are one of us. But decide fast, the offer is only good until lunch is over.” She then walked towards a loud and packed table.

Marinette did want to make friends here, but not like this, never like this. The price of fitting in was too expensive for her. She straightened her back and smiled wide before walking towards the lone boy’s table. She took a seat and held out her hand. She pretended not to notice that he flinched away from her. “Hi, I’m Marinette. I am new to the school and would like to be friends.”

The boy reluctantly took her hand to shake. “Jaden. You don’t want to be my friend. They will only target you too.”

“Won’t be the first time and probably won’t be the last.” She smiled as she started to eat her lunch. “Why should your pain be my price to fit in?”

Jaden managed a small smile, “Thank you Marinette.”

Marinette finished lunch knowing that Jaden would be okay now as long as he had her.

Heroes are made when you make a choice.

The table she sat at with Jaden had more people now. Marinette’s bravery in the face of bullies had seemingly inspired others.

“How did you become so brave Marinette?” She wasn’t sure who asked the question.

Marinette looked back, not on her continuing adventures as Ladybug, but on her time in her old classroom.

Every day she was ignored, left alone, or bullied. All because she stood up for her morals. Every day became more painful to keep going.

Marinette could recall when she would take out one of her sewing needles to draw on her arm. She remembers how the pain would remind her she was still alive. That she existed. That she mattered.

Marinette then thought back to how much her own doubt weighed her down. How she began to believe everyone would be better without her. That she still wasn’t cut out to be a hero. She remembers that living each day was nothing more than a chore.

Finally, she remembers swinging to the top of the Eiffel Tower where she renounced Tikki. She had a handful of pills that she knew would cause her to sleep forever. If for some reason that didn’t work, she knew that sleeping up her would cause her to fall to the ground far below. She had stood and looked over the city. Her eyes were dry, she had nothing left to give. She remembers glancing down at her clenched fist before screaming all her emotions and throwing the handful of pills as far as she could into the night.

She blinks to come back to the present and addresses the whole table. “I decided to live.”

Heroes are made when you make a choice.

Marinette was almost home when she spotted Nino at the park with Chris and Alya’s little sisters. He seemed to be working on something and not paying attention. She sighed in relief and was going to keep walking when she saw Chris, Ella and Etta bullying another child. She knew that they looked up to Nino and Alya and were probably just trying to emulate them.

So, she braces herself and turns towards her old friend. “Nino, can we talk?”

“What do you want?” His voice was harsh and almost made her flinch.

“I know you don’t like me, but please, take a look a Chris right now.”

Nino’s eyes widened at what he saw and he rushed over to his brother.

Marinette chose to sit under a tree and watch for black butterflies. She listened as Nino lectured the three children about bullying. She almost smiled when Chris told him they were just trying to be like him and Alya. She continued to watch as Nino broke down and told his little brother that bullying was still wrong, that he himself had been wrong.

Nino finally came back towards her with his head held in shame. “It didn’t matter if you were a bully or not. I see that we treated you wrong. I’m sorry Marinette.”

She stood and smiled kindly, “I may not be able to forgive you just yet, but as long as you try to be better for Chris then I promise to try.”

“Thanks, dude.”

As Marinette walks away she could her Nino on the phone with Alya. He was explaining that they needed to talk and take a long hard look at themselves.

She smiled to herself. With any luck, Alya and Nino would become better role models for their little siblings.

Heroes are made when you make a choice.

Ladybug and Chat Noir stood in front of the press. She stood tall as she addressed the camera.

“Yesterday’s akuma was caused when a father discovered his son had taken his own life due to bullies.”

Chat spoke solemnly beside her. “This wasn’t just one small act of bullying. This young man had been bullied for years.”

Ladybug raised her hands to stop any questions. “We are not here to point fingers. We are here to raise awareness.” She took a steadying breath and continued. “Most people know that the bully is wrong, but what about those that sit back and watch?”

Chat spoke up with a brief flash of guilt, “How many of us sit back and decide it isn’t our problem? How many of us decide not to say anything because if we do it will make our own lives harder?” Guilt flashes across his face again before it is replaced by determination. “I did this. I feel guilty every day for not stepping up in my civilian life to stop a bully. I will never make that mistake again. I can never do enough to make up for it either.”

Ladybug smiled at him before turning back to the cameras. “Don’t just walk past bullying with your head down. Remember that not picking a side is the same as quietly siding with the bully. One small act of kindness can save a life. Save a family.”

“You don’t need superpowers to be someone’s hero.” Chat stood straighter.

“Heroes are made when you make a choice!”

The next week Marinette smiled when she saw the new monument in the park. It was a memorial for all those that gave up their lives because of bullies. She was quite proud of Chloe and Adrien for paying for it.

She walked closer to look at the etched words, ‘The only thing necessary for the triumph of evil is for good men to do nothing.’

She walked to the other side and saw her own words shining brightly, ‘Heroes are made when you make a choice.’

Nothing can ever bring back the lives already lost, but maybe, maybe this is the start of a new fight. A fight for what is right.

If you are being bullied or know someone that is then be a hero. Reach out to someone, be it a friend or a stranger. You are not alone. There are websites and hotlines you can call.

If you really need someone to talk but are scared of the options given then feel free to talk to me. I can't guarantee that I will have the advice you need or want, but I listen.

[the-goblin-cat]

The dark lord's minion broke down the doors of the temple's inner sanctum. There sat a veiled figure knitting a scarf, a little dog sitting at her feet. Despite her appearance, he felt a wave of dread wash over him. This was his target, the avatar of the goddess Nimra.

"Your reign of terror ends now," he declared, drawing his sword. "No longer will you send children to their deaths!"

Nimra ignored him for a moment, continuing to work on her scarf. After a while she said, "how old are you?"

The henchman blinked. "Sixteen," he said.

"You're a baby," said Nimra, knitting needles clicking. "Your dark lord is also a baby. This is an entire planet of children. I have not sent a single child to its death."

"I'm not a baby," the henchman said through clenched teeth. "And how can you say that you haven't--"

"Putting aside the fact that you are a child and have been sent on a solo mission to slay a god," she said, "it's interesting to me that you can blame me for the supposed deaths of these supposed children when its your dark lord killing them." She stopped her knitting for a second. "Is it because he cries afterward? Is your thought process 'yes there are many child killers in this world, but at least my child killer feels bad about it'?" The dog, which the henchman had quite forgotten, let out a yip that sounded like a laugh.

The henchman howled in frustration. "Stop your mind games goddess of deceit, you can't lie to me and tell me that you didn't send those children to attack my lord! This is a fact, and it's the fact that makes you worthy of death!"

"It's not a fact," she said, resuming her knitting, "because I never sent any amount of mortal children to die. I sent my child, a grown deity, a single time, to deceive your lord."

The dog yipped again, and this time it was definitely a laugh. It stood on its hind legs and transformed, first into a blonde haired boy wearing a pot as a helmet, then into a curly haired girl with a shriveled arm, then a dark skinned lad with permanent dimples. They kept changing forms, revealing each time the face of a child hero the dark lord had personally slain.

"My child, Trism," said Nimra, "better known as the god of tricksters. And I am not the goddess of deceipt. I am the goddess of strategy." At last she stood, unveiling herself, her ageless face and her kindly eyes.

The henchman fell to his knees. "What strategy is this?" He said, baffled.

"Your dark lord is violent and close minded. He would kill anyone who opposed him, child or not. Killing one child hero he can blame on the gods, but a dozen, or a hundred? Well, he starts to look bad. People will question him. And of course, no real children need be sacrificed." Nimra strode over to the boy, wrapping her scarf around his neck. "What's your name again?"

"Hershel," said the henchman, choking back a sob. His worldview was destroyed.

Nimra nodded. "Breaking indoctrination is hard."

[emospritelet]

KOL! Prompt - Gold returns to work but can't get Belle off his mind and is noticeably mentally absent.

[Part 1] [Part 2] [Part 3] [Part 4] [Part 5] [Part 6] [Part 7] [Part 8] [Part 9] [Part 10] [Part 11] [Part 12]

AO3 link

Gold still felt a little light-headed and weak during his shift, but two cups of coffee from the canteen helped him get through the morning.  He even treated himself to a Danish, enjoying the brief sugar rush it gave him.  The energy was short-lived; his body felt as though it had been soundly beaten with iron bars by the time midday came, and a tiny voice whispering in the back of his mind told him he had returned to work too soon.  He ignored it, and pushed on, heading to the children’s ward, where seven-year-old Grace Milliner was recovering from her own bout of the flu.  Gold sat down on the edge of her bed with a feeling of relief, and Grace blinked at him, strands of light brown hair curling around her face.

“How are you feeling?” he asked kindly.

“Okay,” she said, in a small voice.  “I can’t find Mr White, though.”

“Mr White?”

Gold racked his brains to think of who that might be, flicking through his mental filing cabinet of staff and patients and drawing a blank.  He reached out to feel Grace’s forehead, nodding approvingly when he detected no fever, and she sighed.

“He’s fluffy and soft and I can’t sleep without him,” she said, looking miserable, and Gold smiled.

“Mr White is your toy rabbit,” he guessed.  “Of course.  Forgive me, but I don’t believe we were ever formally introduced.”

Grace giggled a little at that.

“When I’m all better you can come to a tea party,” she offered.  “Daddy always says you need to get out more.”

“Does he indeed?” remarked Gold.  Bloody Jefferson and his interest in my social life!  “Well, that’s very kind of you, Grace.  I should think you can go home tomorrow, so you can arrange all the parties you want.”

“Mr White always sits at the head of the table,” she added.  “But he’d love for you to come!  If I ever find him, of course.”

She looked upset again, and Gold smiled.

“I suspect he’s just gotten lost in the ward somewhere,” he said gently.  “Why don’t I see if I can find him?”

She beamed at him, and he stood up, swaying a little as he hooked the chart back over the end of her bed.  He managed to get his cane underneath himself, steadying his footing, and walked quickly from the ward before he could fall on his face.  There was a large laundry hamper on its wheeled frame outside the door, and he frowned to himself before bending over it and pawing through the sheets.

“You lost something?”

Dorothy’s cheerful voice made him jump, and he almost fell into the hamper before it started rolling away under the pressure of his body.  She grasped the metal handle, stopping it with a foot behind the wheel so that he could push himself upright.  Dorothy raised an eyebrow, looking amused, and his mouth flattened.

“You doing laundry now?” she asked.  “You know there are plenty of patients to look at, if you’re short of work.”

“I’m looking for Mr White,” he said vaguely, picking up one of the sheets and shaking it.

“Are patients trying to get smuggled out in the laundry hampers?” she remarked.  “Wow.  I had no idea you were so terrifying.  I know you’re kind of strict on people taking their meds, but that is some classic escape plan right there.  Mr White’s my hero.”

“He’s a rabbit,” said Gold impatiently, and balled up the empty sheet, dropping it back in the hamper.

“Mr White is - okay, you lost me.”

Dorothy folded her arms, and Gold sighed, leaning on the hamper again.  His body was screaming at him to lie down.

“Grace’s rabbit,” he explained.  “She can’t sleep without him.  I thought he might have been picked up by accident when the beds were changed.”

“You’re dead on your feet and you’re upside down in a laundry hamper looking for a toy rabbit?” she said flatly.  “Go and sit the hell down, would you?  Like I don’t have enough to do without hauling your ass out of there.”

“You’re as bossy as Belle,” he grumbled, and she raised an eyebrow, pursing her lips.

“I’ll check in the laundry room for the rabbit,” she said.  “Why don’t you finish your rounds and get home.  Before you fall over.”

“I’m fine, I can do it!”

He bent over the hamper again, almost falling in while he rooted around, but his fingers grasped something that felt far softer than the sheets.  Dorothy’s hand grabbed his collar - along with a good chunk of his hair, which made him growl - but she hauled him upright until he was on his feet, and he turned to face her with a scowl.

“You’re freakishly strong!” he snapped, and she shrugged.

“Never get in a fight with a lesbian,” she said.  “Now would you go and get some rest before you kill yourself?”

Gold gave her a smug grin, pulling his arm free from the pile of sheets and brandishing a somewhat bedraggled plush white rabbit.

“Told you I could do it,” he said snidely, well aware he sounded about five years old, and not caring.

He stomped off to the ward again, and Dorothy followed him, which meant that she was there to witness Grace’s face lighting up with excitement as he handed over Mr White.  It also meant that she was there to witness him bending to pick up a patient’s chart and almost falling over.  He grasped at the end of the bed to steady himself, gritting his teeth as he felt the room spin around him.

“Are you sure you’re okay?” said Dorothy, looking concerned.  “You don’t seem completely - with it.”

Gold sighed, his knuckles white as they gripped his cane and the bed frame.

“Guess I’m still trying to shift this bloody flu,” he admitted.  “Sorry.  I’m - I’m probably more hindrance than help today.”

“Hey, we’re still short-handed, I’ll take all the help I can get,” she said.  “But you should get home as soon as you’re done with this ward.  As long as Whale doesn’t come down with it too I think we’ll be fine.  Come back tomorrow if you’re better.  But only if you’re better, okay?”

He grunted something that wasn’t quite agreement, picking up the chart he had been reaching for.  He dropped it, the clipboard bouncing end over end before clattering to the floor, and he sighed heavily.

“Go home,” said Dorothy firmly, scooping up the fallen chart.  “You’re gonna make yourself worse, and then who’s gonna look after Belle, hmm?”

“I’m not sure I’m doing all that much better than she is right now,” he said, plucking the chart from her fingers and earning a frustrated hiss from her.  “But you’re right.  I should really check on her.  She looked after me so well, it’s the least I can do.”

“Yes, I’m sure your gratitude is the only reason,” she said quietly, and he glanced up.

“Hmm?”

“Nothing,” she said, and smiled widely.  “How’s Belle doing, anyway?”

“Not great,” he said, running a finger over the figures on the chart.  “I left her with iced water, lots of blankets and instructions to stay in bed.”

“She’s - in your bed?” asked Dorothy blandly, and he looked up sharply, to see her grinning at him.

“Of course not!” he snapped.  “I do have spare bedrooms, you know.”

“I just thought, given the power outage, there was the perfect opportunity for some impromptu bed-sharing,” she said innocently, and he wanted to grind his teeth.

“Don’t you bloody start!” he said severely.  “As if I don’t have enough of that from Miss Mills!  I’m sure Miss French wouldn’t appreciate being the subject of gossip anymore than she already has been!”

“Oh, keep your pants on, I’m teasing,” she said, waving a hand.  “I know you’re unfailingly polite and wouldn’t lay a hand on her.  Much to her disappointment, I’m sure.”

“Don’t you have work to do?” he demanded, setting down the chart.

“Yeah, but this is way more important.”  She followed him as he moved to the next bed.  “Besides, I need to keep an eye on you.  You look like you’re gonna fall on your ass.”

“I told you, I’ll be alright.”

He picked up the next chart, sighing as he pinched the bridge of his nose.

“By the way, you don’t happen to know if anyone here has property to rent, do you?” he asked absently, and Dorothy snorted.

“Dude, I just bagged the last house-share going in this town,” she said. “Trying to find apartments to rent in Storybrooke is like searching for unicorns.”

Gold grunted.  As he had thought.

“I thought you owned your own place, anyway?” she said.

“Oh, it’s not for me,” he said, checking the patient notes.  “Belle’s looking for somewhere to rent.  She’s living with her father at the moment, which knowing Moe French’s personal habits, can’t be ideal.”

“Hmm.”  Dorothy folded her arms.  “Didn’t you say you had spare bedrooms?”

“Several, but I fail to see what that has to do with anything.”

He put down the chart, moving onto the next bed, and she followed him.

“Really?” she said flatly.  “So Belle is currently living at your house, is looking for a place to stay, you have tons of room, you like each other, and you can’t think of any connection between that set of facts?”

Gold looked up, blinking at her in surprise.

“I - I live alone,” he said, as though that explained everything.

“Not at the moment you don’t.”

“Yes, but this is a - a special situation,” he said impatiently, turning away. “She’s sick.  I could hardly toss her out into the snow.”

“So you agree that offering her a home when she needed it most was a good thing to do?” she pressed, and he sighed.

“This is only for a few days,” he said.  “Once she’s well enough to leave, she can go back to her own home.”

“And you can go back to sitting alone in the evenings being miserable as hell.”

“I’m not miserable!” he snapped.  “And I don’t see that my private life is any of your business!”

“I’m sharing with Astrid and Leroy,” she said bluntly.  “I get more than enough of watching two people dance around one another like they’re not completely in love when I’m at home, thanks.”

“Astrid and - and Leroy?” he said, perplexed.  “They’re together?”

“No,” she said patiently.  “Not yet, anyway, because they’re almost as blind and stupid as you are.  I can see I really have my work cut out as matchmaker in this place.”

“You certainly will,” he remarked.  "I think your aim as Cupid is woefully off target.  I can’t speak for Astrid and Leroy, but I’m not in love with Miss French, and she’s certainly not in love with me.“

“Wow, you really are blind and stupid.”

“Nurse Gale, so help me—”

“I’m serious!”

“What is it with the staff in this hospital trying to interfere in my lack of a personal life?” he demanded.  “If you must know, I’ve been quite happy on my own for decades!”

“And now you could be happy with someone else.”

“Or it could be an unmitigated disaster that doesn’t get beyond the first awkward attempt at a date and she leaves town, never to return.”

“Oh my God!”  She threw up her hands in exasperation.  “If you won’t ask her out would you at least offer her a place to live?”

Gold opened his mouth for an angry retort, but then snapped it shut, smirking as he recalled noticing something.

“Fine,” he said lightly, and turned away, moving to the next bed.

“Fine?” said Dorothy, suspiciously.

“Yes, fine.”  He picked up the chart, grinning to himself, and heard her step closer.

“Fine as in you’ll offer Belle a place to stay?”

“Yes,” he said, glancing around to where she was watching him with narrowed eyes.  “Just as soon as you arrange yourself a date with the lovely Miss Lucas.”

Dorothy’s mouth fell open as a blush rose in her cheeks, and his grin widened.

“I expect something suitably romantic, none of this ‘just as friends’ nonsense,” he added.  “And you’re to text me an update during the evening to let me know how you’re getting along.”

“You’re a bastard,” she said flatly.

“Well, I’m only thinking of your future happiness.”

“But I don’t even know if she likes me!” she protested, and he grinned at her.

“How unfortunate.  I guess you can go back to sitting alone in the evenings being miserable as hell.”

Dorothy glowered at him repeating her own words back to her, but nodded reluctantly.

“Fine,” she grumbled.  “I’ll stop bugging you about your non-existent sex life, and you stop bugging me about mine.  Deal?”

Gold grinned, showing his teeth.

“The deal is struck.”

He put back the final chart and headed for the door of the ward, hoping that his legs wouldn’t give up and pitch him onto the floor.

“If I ever do manage to get a date with Ruby, you and I are revisiting this conversation!” she called after him.

Gold turned slowly on the balls of his feet, and winked at her

“Well, I won’t hold my breath, then.”

x

Gold took his time driving home, the roads treacherous with compacted snow and patches of ice.  His head was aching, his body exhausted, and he wanted nothing more than to crawl back into bed and sleep for twelve hours.  The house was silent when he entered, and he shrugged out of his coat and made his way up the stairs, knocking quietly on the door of the spare bedroom.  A sleepy voice answered, and he opened the door to peer in at Belle.  She was curled in the bed, blankets pulled up under her chin, dark curls spread out on the pillows and her cheeks flushed, but she sent him a wan smile.  Gold walked in and sat down on the edge of the bed, shaking his head at the temperature of her skin.

“You still have a high fever,” he said.  “Have you been drinking plenty of water?”

“I’ve mostly been sleeping,” she said, and he nodded.

“Try to sit up.  You should drink something.”

She pushed up obediently, arms shaking a little, and he stood up and poured her some water, sitting down again and putting a hand on the back of her shoulder to support her as she drank it.  Belle gulped at the water, then lay back down with a heavy sigh.  Her head rolled against the pillows, her eyes flicking up to meet his.

“How are you feeling?” she asked, and he shrugged.

“Better than yesterday,” he said.  “But I’m a terrible doctor.  I managed nothing more technical than finding a little girl’s toy rabbit.”

Belle giggled.

“Well, I’m sure that was very important to her,” she said, and he smiled briefly.

“Perhaps.”

“All those years of medical training may give you lots of knowledge,” she added.  “I’m willing to bet they don’t teach much about how to care for people in the little ways that matter, though.”

“Patient welfare isn’t just about getting the right diagnosis and treatment,” he said, and her smile widened.

“See?  That’s my point.  You care about your patients.”

“Well, don’t tell anyone, I have a reputation to maintain,” he quipped, and Belle’s eyes sparkled with amusement.

“Would you stay with me awhile?” she asked.  “I’ll probably fall asleep again, but it would be nice not to feel alone.”

Gold hesitated, looking down at his suit and tie before glancing to the chair at the dresser.  He was desperately tired, but if she wanted company, perhaps he could sit with her for a moment.  Belle seemed to sense his uncertainty.

“Oh, I didn’t mean for you to sit around like you’re about to go out for dinner,” she said.  “Please, go and change.  Put some PJs on.  There’s enough room on the bed for both of us.”

She patted the blankets beside her, and Gold swallowed hard.  Sleeping beside her had been excruciatingly wonderful, and he had just resigned himself to the fact that it would never happen again.  And now she was sitting there, with wide eyes and flushed cheeks, gazing at him imploringly from beneath the sheets of his spare bed.

“Just for a little while,” she pleaded.  “It’s depressing being alone when you’re sick.”

He hesitated, Dorothy’s words about him sitting alone and miserable echoing around his brain.  Had he really been suffering in his solitude before Belle had turned up on his doorstep?  He didn’t think so, but then perhaps he had just gotten used to an empty, silent house.  He knew that a part of him had wanted it to be a punishment, to shut himself off from the world and wallow in grief and guilt and self-loathing.  When had it become a shield?  When had he started to take comfort in loneliness?

“It’s - it’s okay if you want to be alone.”

Belle’s voice made him jump, jerking him out of self-reflection and back to the present.  She was watching him worriedly.

“I’m sorry,” she went on.  “You’ve been around people all day, you probably need some time to yourself.  Forget I said anything.”

“Right,” he said lamely.

She smiled then, tired and beautiful, her eyes lighting up the room.

“I’ll maybe see you later,” she added.

“Right,” he said again, his brain screaming at him to stay with her, to talk to her.  “I’ll - I’ll bring you some tea.”

She smiled at him, and he stood up, shifting from foot to foot until he managed to move one of them.  He stepped back from the bed, reaching for the door handle, and closed the door behind him as he left the room.

[believeinasmilingcecil]

SGC meeting some Children of the smiling God Church? ((I can't remember the name atm))

((You know how you write sometimes and it just keeps going and grows into something that was definitely not what you started with? Yeah. But enjoy! ))

“Your groupies found us.” Cecil found himself smirking at thethought, his expression brightening when his resident deity glared his way.

[I was u n a w a r e I had such…g r o u p i e s.] Smiles sneered in reply, turning his burning gazeback to the window.

He’d relented into joining his vessel for pizza (which hehad grown quite fond of, if he was being honest), and they’d garnered someinterest from a group of yellow-clad onlookers outside their corner windowbooth. They seemed excited enough, even if he had adopted his relatively humanform for this outing.

The small group did not, however, seem to enjoy the factthat he was sitting across from the Voice of Night Vale. In fact, they seemeddownright intent on ignoring his host completely.

“You can’t tell me you didn’t know they existed. Why not goand meet them?” The host waved his hand at Smiles in a shooing motion, crackinga smile when the deity begrudgingly stood.

Smiles was somewhat familiar with this group of admirers(The Children of the Smiling God, they called themselves. Catchy), but he hadnever met them previously. At least, not in person. His corporeality was a newaddition, after all. He sauntered to the door, barely getting it open beforethe lot of them rushed him.

Cecil could hardly tell what they were chattering about, butthe majority looked all too happy to meet their lord and savior. He was tooamused in watching them swarm his deity that he failed to notice one slinkinginto the restaurant to sit across from him.

“It shouldn’t have been you.” Said the newcomer, causing thehost to jump and face them. They seemed quiet enough, tapping their fingers onthe table, a smile stretched along their cheeks.

“It shouldn’t have been you.” They repeated, Cecil blinkingat them owlishly. Ah. So that was it.

“You mean he shouldn’t be with me.” He countered, thestranger nodding slowly in response. They leaned forward, seemingly scrutinizingCecil’s every move.

“Precisely. You do not worship our god. He chose you. That is…wrong.”They almost pouted, twirling their thumbs. “Oh dear, so wrong. It should havebeen one of us. Prophet Kevin, perhaps. Yes, anyone would have been a betterconduit than you.”

Cecil quirked a brow, casting a glance at Smiles (stillcompletely incapacitated) outside. He’d been aware of the possibility, but hadnever actually given thought to it. Smiles had picked him, at least that washow was how it had looked, simply because of who he was. He’d forgotten thathis position was completely indistinguishable from Kevin’s. It would have made moresense to choose him, but the deity hadn’t.

“That’s out of my hands.” The host shrugged slowly, leaningforward to meet his booth mate’s eyes. “He’s stuck with me. I’m stuck with him,and I know how fond all of you associated with them are of business deals. I suppose you’re out of luck.” He satback, finding he quite enjoyed the flash of fear that ghosted over the other’sface.

“I think your best option is to leave our town. We still don’ttake too kindly to interlopers.” He cooed, the Child’s smile visibly twitchingas they stood.

“We’ll visit again, vessel. We’ll find a better you, you’llsee. We’ll visit again, and then you’ll truly be smiling.” With that, theystalked out and dragged their small still chatting group with them, allowingSmiles to return to his seat.

[W h a t did that one s a y to you, s u n s h i n e?] he ventured, almost afraid of the answer, giventhe look in his vessel’s eye.

“Oh, you know. Congratulating me on being with you. Nothing wehave to worry about.”

Smiles simply sat back, focusing on the “S” Cecil wasabsently drawing into the table with his fingers. He’d almost forgotten aboutthem.

If they wanted a fight, then perhaps it was time to give itto them. Admirers be damned, this was the path he’d chosen to further hismeans. As his host was always fond of saying, they certainly didn’t take kindlyto interlopers.