thatone1fangirl - Tumblr blog

thatone1fangirl · 2 months ago

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your father should know, pt. 4

Arven leaves you with something more than either of you bargained for when he goes off to Kalos for an internship, and through a series of miscommunications and heartbreak, he returns a few years later to learn that he actually has a child.

arven x fem!reader, nsfw content (in pt. 1), pregnancy (pts. 1, 2, & 2.5), angst, and stupid miscommunications

[part 1][part 2][part 2.5][part 3]

I'M HERE AGAIN THANKS FOR THE WAIT. SORRY ABOUT BEING THE WAY I AM LMAO please enjoy the next installment. it's not beta'd i'm out here livin like larry

[Group Chat: Team Star? More Like, Time To Go To HR AmIRight???]

WalkWalkFashionBaby: hey @ ParadoxChamp is this your man?

WalkWalkFashionBaby: [sent a photo]

[Image description: A man with wavy, longish ash blond and light brown hair, accompanied by a Mabosstiff, walking down the streets of Mesagoza. His hands are in his pockets, and he seems to be smiling.]

CassiopeiaYamahaSteinway: ?????????

CassiopeiaYamahaSteinway: !!!!!!!?!

CassiopeiaYamahaSteinway: yo wtf

CassiopeiaYamahaSteinway: first of all that deadbeat isnt her man ortega

CassiopeiaYamahaSteinway: second

CassiopeiaYamahaSteinway: yea uh

CassiopeiaYamahaSteinway: @ paradoxchamp did you know he was back in town???????

CassiopeiaYamahaSteinway: third @ giacomo4pm momo if you don't change our nicknames in this chat back to normal I will absolutely dox you (again) and then change them back myself

Giacomo4pm: Can do, will do.

Giacomo4pm: Also, yo, damn, what's he doing back? I thought he fled the country or whatever.

Rika: so the sperm donor's here. Just came up the hill asking for you. Want me to send him packing?

Rika: yeah u do

Rika: well... I do.

Rika: also unrelated, holy sHIT, man's genes are strong. It's like I'm looking into a time machine for Basil's future.

Rika: except, you know. Basil will be way cooler and more handsome with your genes mixed in.

Rika: ❤️

Rika: plus no shitty facial hair.

Rika: or better facial hair.

Rika: anyway, I'm gonna eviscerate him.

Rika: love you. ❤️

You had been in Area Zero, gathering information on moth pokemon for Jacq when the director called, his usually placid voice laced with an edge of steel.

"Basil's father just stopped by." He says without preamble.

Your heart sinks, and you nearly lose your grip on Raidon, only barely managing to stay upright and drag the pokemon to a halt.

"His what?" You splutter, changing the phone to your other ear, as if you hadn't heard correctly.

"His father." The director repeats. "I know we have not...explicitly discussed Basil's paternity, but, well," He tsks lightly. "He showed up to speak to me."

Your head is filled with tarountula webbing. You feel your hearing go fuzzy, but somehow your hands direct Raidon up and toward the closest lab station. Out, out, out. Back to the school. Back to Basil, back to--

"I'm on my way to the entrance to Area Zero now." Clavell continues when you don't reply after a few moments. "I'll meet you there with Basil."

"What did he want?" You finally ask as you enter the station.

"I didn't give him the opportunity to chitchat."

You hum. "One second, Sir." You step into the transport pad.

A moment later, and Clavell is right in front of you, Basil tucked safely in his stroller, looking just as he did when you dropped him off this morning, save for his hair looking a little...off. You disregard it.

"Thank you so much." You sigh, hanging up the phone as Clavell gives you a sad sort of smile.

"Anything for you two." He says.

You kneel and try to fluff up your son's hair, but it has dried all crunchy from whatever happened during the day. He's getting a bath later, so you don't fret over it and just smile warmly to him, trying not to let your panic show.

"Ready to go home, sweet thing?" You ask him.

Basil nods, reaching with little hands for yours in his hair. "Mhmm!" He nods. "Ahso, Mama! I saw a big buddy! A big, BIG buddy!"

Clavell clears his throat and provides some context. "Mabosstiff said hello."

You look up to the director, knowing exactly which Mabosstiff he must mean. "Oh? Mabosstiff! That's...that's so great!" If your register is maybe just a touch too high, your smile too tight, it's only to maintain face in front of the boy to whom you turn back. "Were you kind? Remember how we always wanna be nice to new pokemon, yeah?"

"Uh-huh, uh-huh! He gived me a kisses! A lotsa kisses!"

So that's the crunch in his hair.

Oh, Mabosstiff...

"That's my sweet boy." You sigh, ruffling the mess before standing again to face the director.

"Thanks again. I'm gonna..." Another long exhale. "I'm gonna get us home."

Clavell nods. "You know how to reach me if you need something. And... Well, if you want me to intercede on your behalf, I'm happy to have words." He says stoically. "At times I felt I was the closest thing..." He gestures with his head outward toward the school. "He had to a parent in his life... I..." It's his turn to sigh. "I don't understand what happened there. How he could do what his own parents did to him? I'm sorry. If it's any consolation."

Your heart squeezes, and you distract yourself from the feeling by digging your nails into the soft foam of the handles of Basil's stroller. "Don't be. He made his choice, y'know?" You try to smile, but it's shaky. "He deserves to have the life he wants."

"He deserves a kick in the pants." Clavell responds. "Not that I'm an advocate for corporal punishment..." He adjusts his glasses in that grandfatherly way.

You laugh.

"Well, if he sticks around long enough, maybe you'll get a chance."

You hope he doesn't stick around.

Or...do you?

Do you even want to see him?

Either way, you don't want to linger on it in the lab.

"I'm gonna take this little one home."

Clavell nods. "Until later."

And then you're calling a cab to get back to your place, and Clavell is on his way back to the office.

While you're in the cab, you check your messages and sigh. Seems like Ortega caught a glimpse of Arven, and Rika is...fucking with him in some way or another.

You ignore your old classmates and opt to just text Rika.

Me: Got Basil from Clavell and we're on our way home rn/

Me: Love you too ofc 💖💖

A minute or so later, your phone buzzes. Rika again.

Rika: he's gone now

Rika: I put the fear of arceus in him if i do say so myself

You roll your eyes, smiling wryly. By now the cab is slowly descending to the space just outside your home, so you pocket the device and maneuver Basil in his stroller out of the cramped space and into the house.

Once he's unbuckled from his seat, he's bouncing around and grabbing at the attached bag, the one containing Buddy's pokeball, asking in broken syllables if they can play.

It isn't a huge deal to let the pup out of the ball to play, so you hand it over to Basil, reminding him how to behave with his friend. At the same time, you also release Skeledirge to keep a watchful eye over the pair for a moment.

In the weeks since the Raisins Incident, as you've called it, you've come to the realization that your team can be of some assistance to you when you need a moment to yourself, when you're overwhelmed. Obviously Skeledirge isn't a parent. Neither is Raidon or Tinkaton or Screamtail or anyone else, but Skeledirge is smart enough to keep them safe for the precious seconds you need to breathe.

So you let the three alone in the living room and retire to your bedroom for a moment to collapse on the bed and gather your thoughts. You only need a few seconds. Just a few seconds of Mama time...just a few.

There's a sound at your open door as Basil toddles in, two pokemon in tow.

"Mama... Hungy?" He asks, clenching his shirt in tiny balled fists.

"Oh, sweetness..." You sigh, leaning down to pick him up and seat him securely on your lap. "You're hungry?" You press your face into his head, expecting its usual downy softness and the comfort of your child's scent, only to be met with that uncomfortable crunch of dried Mabosstiff slobber. Out of Basil's line of sight, your nose crinkles. "Let's see what we've got in the kitchen, yeah?"

"Toast? Toast 'n jellies?" He asks hopefully.

"I think we could do that, my littlest..." You respond with a smile, hefting your boy onto your hip as you trudge into the kitchen.

Of course, it would be just your luck that you're entirely out of oran jelly, the only jelly that Basil will eat right now. Thank you, developing taste buds and picky eating...

Maybe he won't notice if you try to give him pinap jelly instead this once?

You prepare his plate, the toast lovingly cut into four triangles, and you give him his sippy cup as well, but Basil only stares down unhappily at the food.

"Jellies?" He asks, his tiny button nose wrinkling.

"Yeah, Baby, I made you toast and jelly." Your heart clenches, anxiety rising, but you try to keep your voice chipper.

"Nuh-uh!" He insists, pushing the plate away.

"Oh, I'm sorry. We don't have the usual jelly. Do you wanna try this instead?"

Your son looks at you with wide eyes, rapidly filling with tears. His lower lip wobbles, and his brow furrows angrily. Times like these it's almost crazy how much he looks like...

No, focus!

"It's good, I promise. Wanna see? Mama will have some." You take a bite of one of the triangles and make a show of smiling. "Mmm! So yummy! It's really tasty!"

"No!" Basils yells in response, his tiny tears now falling. Hangry isn't a good look on the little guy.

"Ahhh, we gotta get you something to eat, huh, bud."

"Jellies!" He blubbers, only barely understandable through his tantrum. Buddy the Maschiff jumps up, placing his front paws on Basil's feet, trying to get at the food, and Basil complies, shoving it down to the pup.

You sigh. "Alright."

Buddy re-enters his ball, still chewing the bread, and you take Basil from his high chair, depositing him in his stroller.

"We'll go to the market and get your good jelly, okay? Super duper fast, then we'll come home and have a feast."

Basil is still crying, but the promise of his good jelly seems to placate him somewhat.

It'll be fine anyway. The market is only a short walk from your apartment building, and you'll only be out for a few minutes.

The journey there is easy. Basil's stroller is one of those fancy transforming models that's great for all kinds of terrain while also being pretty light. It helps that the market is all outdoors, too. Less helpful is the fact that the stalls are fairly narrowly placed beside one another. At least it feels that way with all the people around, but it isn't overly cumbersome to navigate.

"Jellies!" Basil starts to whine as you approach the stall that he's come to learn has his favorite snack. He starts making grabby hands towards the jars along the table, and you attempt to quietly stop him.

"Yup! They've got your jelly here. Once I pay, you can hold the jar, if you like. Sound good?"

"I pick, I pick!" Basil insists, arching his tiny body as best he can away from the stroller's restraining buckle.

"Hey now," You press a soft but firm hand against him, guiding him back to his seat. "I'll let you pick, but you have to be polite. Say please and thank you to the salesperson, kay?"

Your son huffs, squirming a bit more before collapsing against the seat. "I be good. I good." He grumbles, and you're finally able to unbuckle him and take him up in your arms.

"Okay now. Can you ask for what you want?" You give the salesperson a thankful smile as you speak to Basil. They seem willing to be patient with your little one.

"Jellies!!!" He cries gleefully.

"Jellies, what, bud?"

"Jellies, pease!!!"

"There you go... We're gonna get some oran berry jelly." You tell the salesperson, already reaching into your bag with the hand that isn't carrying Basil. "Remember, these are glass, so you gotta hold it gently."

Basil carefully (or as carefully as a nearly-two year old can) chooses a bright blue jar, holding it in both of his hands.

Gently, so as not to jostle Basil enough that he drops his prize, you rearrange him on your hip, freeing an arm to reach into your bag, so you can pay the shop keeper.

That's when you hear it. Not particularly loud compared to the hum of the crowd, but clear as day anyway.

The sound of your name being called gives you pause. You look around. It's not uncommon for you to be recognized, but you're already on edge. Hopefully it's just a fan or something?

–

You heard him. From the way you stopped and looked around, hiking the kid up just a bit higher on your hip as you distractedly tried to find the source of his voice, it was obvious.

It isn't an overly crowded market, but there are definitely enough people milling around that quick travel isn't really feasible from where he stands, particularly if he wants to get closer.

He calls your name again, louder this time. Before it had almost been breathless, filled with surprise, hurt, delight, just a tumultuous storm of emotions tearing through his stomach at the sight of you, the sight of his little carbon copy in your arms. Now he's really trying to get your attention.

You pinpoint him, and Arven waves, his bulky form helping to differentiate him from the rest of the crowd.

He... He can't read your face. You look like a deerling caught in Flash. He watches as you quickly shuffle, taking your boy (his boy?) away. Are... Are you for real fleeing from him? He calls your name again, trying to move closer to your retreating form, but it's no use. He makes it to the stall where you were before. He's positive of it because you left the stroller behind, and judging by the yelling from the salesperson, you made off with some product without paying. It's a no-brainer for him to lay down the cash needed, assuaging the anger of the clerk. Arven also grabs the stroller, giving a nervous laugh about how forgetful you must be before he starts trekking with it in the direction that you fled.

Except. He quickly realizes that's not really gonna get him anywhere. He has no idea where you live. Yeah, he knows where you used to live, almost 3 years ago, but that was basically a shoebox, a place to store your supplies while out and about as a champ. No way you're there still. Not with a kid. Right?

He eventually takes a seat on a bench close to the market, keeping the stroller next to him. You've gotta come back for it soon, right? Even then though, he has no idea how long it might take you to come back.

Once again, Arven desperately wishes you hadn't blocked him way back when. He pulls out his phone, hoping to shoot you a text, on the off-chance that maybe you unblocked him at some point maybe?

Me: Hi, Buddy!

is all he types before seeing the tell-tale red messaging, showing that the number is indeed still blocked. Ugh.

Fuck, maybe...maybe he could use a pay phone or something? Just to tell you where your stroller is. But are there even any pay phones anymore?

As it turns out, they do still exist! There's one just on the edge of the market, so Arven makes his way over, pulling out his phone to copy your number once he's in the booth.

Except.

That's not a Paldean area code he sees. It's Kalosian. Yes, it's your name as the contact, and it's your final, nasty message to him there in the texts, but....it's not your number. There's not even a call history that goes back that far for him to try and grab the number that he just can't seem to remember entirely. He used to have it memorized, once upon a time, the two of you having been the other's emergency contact for so long, so he knows he's not crazy. That number...

He realizes on a second glance that the number is affiliated with Bon Applintit. It's got the same starting numbers after the area code.

What the hell happened to--

"Arven!!!!" The cry of his name startles him out of the thought, but he tucks it away for later. There's something very, very off going on, beyond the kid and everything. Which also??? Kinda absolutely bonkers. He's not gonna lie to himself. He also can't think too hard about it.

"Arven!" Nemona pulls him from that dizzying train of thought, as well as the phone booth. "I've been sent to just, uh...grab this from you..." She tells him, awkwardly trying to work her way around him to grab at the stroller's handlebars. "Ya know... Mama and Basil need it and all." She laughs a bit uncomfortably, continuing her attempt to pry the pram from him.

"Basil?" He says out loud, the name punching him harder than any Hitmonchan. His fists clench tighter around the bars.

Nemona slaps a hand over her mouth, allowing Arven to angle the stroller away from her. "Were you not supposed to know? Ah, gosh darn it!"

"I mean--!" He starts defensively. "I guess?! I never knew about...about any of this!" He gesticulates wildly. "When was anyone gonna tell me about Basil, huh? What the hell, Nemona!?"

She gives him a strange look, her lips pursed and brows quirked. "You... You really had no idea?" She crosses her arms, studying Arven's expression. "Hold on."

Nemona takes out her phone and starts texting. Arven does his absolute best to be patient, but with every passing second he's growing more agitated.

"Okay, listen! Someone has GOT to tell me what's going on!" He eventually bursts. "Who IS this kid? Why does she have him? Why does... I mean, why does the kid look like me? Everyone's been treating me like shit since I got here, and none of it makes any goddamn sense! If anyone cares to hear MY side of the story, she blocked ME! And to my knowledge it was just over a few missed calls! I thought she was just overreacting! I had no idea about any of this!" His anger over it all, over getting shunned by his friends years ago, over Clavell’s insults, comparing him to his father, it all bubbles over, and he’s letting it out on Nemona.

She hushes him with a sound and a not-so-placating finger, not bothering to even look up as she texts with a single thumb. "Hold on, hold on, hold on..." The patronizing nature of it all pulls a huff from Arven, whose grip on the handles of the strollers is so strong his knuckles go white.

His friend locks the screen and looks back to him. Her gaze is steady and serious, in stark contrast to her typical jovial self.

"Okay. I believe you, amigo. You say you've got no idea what's going on? I'm sorry to hear that. I really, really wish I could just tell you everything. Or at least, what I think is everything? But this isn't really my place. Not my mankey, not my circus. I'm just the mankey's fun tia, y'know?" She tries to lighten the mood a bit, but it absolutely falls short. "But. For real, this isn't the kind of chisme I enjoy. Not when it involves any of you. I'm talking to her now." Nemona shakes the phone in her hand. "I'm gonna see if she's willing to hear you out."

"Hear me out? She was the one--"

"That isn't how anyone here knows the story, Arven. At least what she's been able to bring herself to tell of it. I don't think any of us can claim to know all the details, but do you think she'd lie to make you look bad? Really?"

That seems to give Arven pause. At least long enough for Nemona to check the latest message from you. She smiles.

"She's on her way to the Treasure Eatery and will meet with you there. Be sure to bring the stroller."

Arven makes it to the restaurant before you. It isn't really surprising, given your detour to the league building to drop Basil off with Nemona for a bit. He ought to thank his lucky stars for Nemona pleading his case to you, saying he seemed to be genuinely confused and distraught over the situation. Otherwise you wouldn't have bothered. This is...exhausting to think about. Facing him. Trying to figure out what he wants. Why he came.

You won't lie, your initial thoughts as you rushed home with Basil tucked tightly in your arms, shielding him from his father, were rather dark. Was Arven here to try and take him? Did he think he could use your baby as some kind of prop in his social media videos? People go crazy for dads after all.

But, no. If you're honest with yourself (like Nemona urged you to be) that's not the man you knew. You couldn't imagine him becoming someone like that either, especially if he didn't want to be a dad in the first place... Beyond that, if you think rationally for a moment, there isn't a court in the world that would order your toddler son to another country without you.

No, this...this will be safe. It will be scary. To see him again. But. There's no need to think there's danger. It will just be kind of scary. And you can deal with scary, if only for a few minutes.

"Hey." Your voice sounds drained as you drop your bag on your side of the booth and follow behind it to sit. You want to look at him. Look him in the eye and ask him what his deal is, but you just can't summon that brand of bravery.

"Hey." His tone isn't really discernable; you can't guess what he's thinking. "I, uh...ordered your usual drink. Or...What you used to order? If that's cool?"

Sure enough, there on the tabletop is your go-to drink from the Treasure Eatery, a ring of condensation already formed at the base of the glass, dampening the flimsy cardboard of the disposable coaster.

"Oh." It surprises you, that small bit of thoughtfulness. "Thanks." You take the glass in both hands and sip, letting the frosty cold of it ground you before you finally look up to see him.

He's... He's so much like Basil, it makes a lump form in the back of your throat. The nose, the eyebrows, the bow of his lips. You've seen them all every day for almost two years now in the face of your little boy; things you noticed and adored, now mimicked before you. Beyond that, he's still Arven. Time hasn't changed him too terribly much. For an adult, it hasn't been too long, so it's not like he's suddenly grey and withered before you or something. The biggest difference is how he pulls his hair back into a low ponytail, the patchy stubble around his cheeks and chin. He's either growing it out to try something new or just hasn't bothered with a razor for a while.

"Hey." You finally say. Truth be told, if not for your drink, your throat would've gone dry just seeing him again.

"So..." He starts, leading.

"So...you're back."

"Uh. Yeah. The plan was to spend the weekend clearing out my old storage....and...head back to Lumiose..."

"'The plan was?'" You ask.

"W-Well, I mean... I. I don't think I can just go back now, can I?"

You tense. Why did that feel like an attack? "I don't see why not. You didn't seem to think it was important to, you know, come back before now. What makes you think you have to stay?" Your tone comes off colder, more callous, than your aching heart would otherwise reveal, and it does its job, egging Arven onto frustration.

"I saw Clavell with Basil." He starts, pausing when he notices your flinch at the name. "Then I saw him with you. And... I mean..."

"Oh, so you saw him and now suddenly you care?" You ask, venom dripping more than you'd care to admit.

"What are you saying?!" He grates, volume only as loud as public decorum would allow in the bustling restaurant. "You... You have to be kidding, right? Of course I care! There's... There's a whole kid! Right? Where did he come from, huh? Cuz, like... Those don't just appear! And he's yours, right? He's gotta be! Like, obviously I see my...resemblance, but I see you in him, too!" That surprises you. No one ever found your features in Basil anymore, save for your mom, who made an off-handed comment once or twice about your eye shape or something.

Arven takes your silence as reason to continue "I mean... I've seen my photos from a young age... I..." His anger fizzles out into confusion as he goes on. "I don't want to make assumptions about...about us or what we were? But...looking at that kid, it's gotta be, right? That it was me? That I'm..." He can't say it out loud. "But why? Why didn't you say something? Why did you hide something like that? Cuz, like... I mean...even...even if he were someone else's... I mean, why wouldn't you have said something?"

"Hide it?!" The accusation shocks you into a response. "I never hid anything! I tried telling you for ages, back when you actually picked up the damn phone! You forced me into having to text you about my son! Then you blocked me! I have the receipts, Arven. I don't know what kind of delusion you've got going on in that head of yours, but I never hid my boy from you until I was given reason to! Why would I go out of my way to force a child upon a man who couldn't acknowledge him? Why wouldn't I keep my son safe from someone who didn't have the decency to be there for him? For me?"

Your tone has risen to a point where a few of the surrounding tables have hushed to listen in, and Arven can tell that prying eyes and ears are now on you both. He shuts his eyes and takes a deep breath, an attempt to steady himself, keep from getting more heated in public.

"Bud." He begins, the old nickname hitting you like a sucker punch. "I never knew. I don't know what happened there, but I promise. I promise on Mabosstiff's life that I had no clue about any of this. I think there had to have been some kinda mix up..." You watch as cogs turn in his head. "I think... I'm thinking maybe something happened with my phone." He says, pulling the device from his pocket. "Like... Lemme just try and make this clear from my end. Okay? I got this text from you..." He starts, tapping the screen. "It was kinda mean, and when I tried to respond, I was blocked." He holds up the conversation for you to read.

>Hey! Sorry we keep missing each other lately! I hope things are okay? Are you staying warm? It's getting kinda cold here.

>can we not do this?

>Not do what?

>"This" i'm getting real fuckin tired of you bailing on me all the time now that your some hot shot kalosian celebrity guy

>Whoa. Where is this even coming from??

>you kno exactly where its coming from, arven. Youve been super shitty to me since you left paldea and it really hurts my feelings.

>I'm sorry? I've been busy here. It's been a lot getting used to a whole new place and a whole new language. I thought you understood that. I really am sorry though.

>y'know what? I dont really care at this point. Ive had enough waiting around for you to call me or text me back. there are guys here who can do better by me

>[One Missed Call]

>Are you being serious right now? You can't be. This is a joke?

>[One Missed Call]

>[The number you are trying to reach has been disconnected and is no longer in service.]

Your face pales and stomach sinks as you read it. "Arven, I--"

"I just noticed earlier when I tried calling you about the stroller. That isn't even your number. It's Kalosian. It's... I think it's affiliated with my company? I can't be sure yet, but..." He locks the screen and puts his phone down. "I know now that you never sent those messages, and that somehow I lost everything related to your contact. So...whatever you might've sent...it isn't here. I couldn't have seen it."

With a nearly shaking hand, you grab his phone and open it back up, still remembering his old passcode (Mabosstiff's Pokedex number). "Hold on..." You absolutely sent a message. Whether it was deleted or not... You check his blocked numbers, knowing that on your end, you've been blocked since back when you first told him about the pregnancy. "Yup..." You show him the screen. There among several spam numbers was your own. "You blocked me."

Arven opens his mouth to argue. "Or, I guess," You continue before he has a chance to interrupt. "I was blocked... somehow? I still... I don't see how this could have happened..." You set the phone down and fish out your own from your bag. "Here." It only takes a moment to pull up your old conversations. "You can read for yourself what I tried to tell you."

>Hey! I know this isn't ideal, and I really would have rather said it in person or over a face call or even just a regular call, but I think you need to know, and I'm having a really hard time verbalizing it to you. I'm sorry to do it this way, but it's better to say it now than not at all, right?

>I'm pregnant, and it's yours.

>I'm so, so, SO sorry! I promise I didn't mean for it to happen like this, and I'm not trying to like…baby trap you or something. I swear! You're my best friend in the whole world, and I'm so happy that you can go and live your dream in Kalos right now. But I just feel like you should know? Like you should have a say in what happens here? I'd love to talk to you. Do...do you want to do this? Because....well if you're willing I'd want to try this. With you. But I also know that you're living your dream right now, and I don't want to get in the way of that! I want you to be able to really embrace this new journey you're taking and learn and grow and do wonderful things! But I just wanted you to know, you know? Please don't hate me. Just give me a call when you have a minute, and we can figure this out. Okay?

. Then after several months, you’d sent a picture. Just a simple selfie of you, looking exhausted beyond belief, hair tamped down to your head with sweat, but still smiling. In your arms is a tiny bundle with a little purple hat, face looking squished and wrinkly and perfect. Arven knows exactly what he’s looking at before he’s read your final message.

>He's here. I don't know if you care, necessarily? But... I love him so much, and I don't understand how you couldn't, so I thought I should share.

You watch as Arven tears up, holding your phone like a tiny, precious creature. "I never knew. I... I swear I didn't." He swallows. "My...my team... They all have access to my phone. Something must've... Someone, I guess..." He shudders then looks to you, resolute. "I'll figure it out. But." Arven looks at your hand on the table then flexes his own, curling and uncurling it from a fist. "I... I wanted to know. I should've known. I'm so sorry this happened..."

"Me too..." The anger and fear and sadness you had churning in your gut this whole time slowly begins to still. You don't know how to feel exactly about the misunderstanding, but you know Arven. You know he isn't lying to you, and to hear him apologize for all of this... It's like a weight off of your soul.

Arven pauses, gathering himself then stares you in the eye. "I was supposed to leave tomorrow, head back. Fuck that. I need to be here. I need to see him.”

It's another punch to the gut, and on instinct, you respond. "No."

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thatone1fangirl · 2 months ago

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your father should know pt. 1

arven x reader, nsfw content, pregnancy, angst, and stupid miscommunications'

Champagne was poured freely, toasts were made, songs were sung. Everyone laughed and cried in near equal measure, and they hugged and kissed and made promises to keep in touch and talk soon and "not to be a stranger!" and "tune in every week!"

For his part, Arven blushed and drank it in almost as well as he drank in the champagne. He's never gotten used to being the center of attention. With stellar professor parents and a best friend who sits near the top of the Paldean Pokemon League, he's always been...just Arven. Just some guy. Not a nobody, but...well, if the shoe fits.

No, no! He can't think like that. He's amazing in his own ways. Hell, everyone gathered like this because of him.

An apprenticeship with one of the most famous celebrity chefs of Kalos at their marketing institution as well! He'd be gone for a year, learning from the best of the best of the best, touring the region, doing podcasts and making weekly videos. All of it would revolve around making food that would make people and pokemon happy and healthy. It was like a dream.

He wasn't totally sure at first... After all, he'd never left the region, but then again maybe an adventure was just what he needed? That's what you'd told him anyway, looking up at him with your sparkling eyes that made his stomach twist in knots.

Paldea wasn't really his home anyway. (Could he even say he ever had a home?) Go see the world! He's young and untied now, so why not? It'll be like the treasure hunt from back during school but even better.

So he agreed and got to preparing while you and all of your friends got to planning his goodbye party.

He'd be off in the morning, and at this point nearly everyone had left his flat, staggering or taking cabs home.

Everyone but you.

You and Arven.

Arven and you.

The original buddies.

Alone on the L-shaped sofa, lounging, head-to-head at the crook of it. Arven's hand is still holding a half-finished bottle of champagne that drags across the wooden floor. Both of your hands are folded across your ribcage.

He exhales a long puff of air that blows his bangs from his eye.

"Have you had too much to drink over there?" You ask. Even without looking Arven can hear the smile on your lips.

"Nah..." He grunts a bit as he rolls over onto his side. "Barely a buzz at this point, honestly." And it's true. A man of his size usually needs a fair amount of alcohol to really get lost in it, especially when they've eaten as much as he has this evening. "Just...thinkin' I guess."

"Yeah?" You roll over as well. Neither of you are facing each other, but if you crane your necks you could see one another’s faces. "Gimmighoul coin for your thoughts?"

He chuckles. "That's a mouthful. You know you can just say 'penny' right? Like we have those."

You blow a raspberry, and Arven laughs harder.

"Now who's the one who's had too much to drink?" He asks.

"Hey!" You stop, mock-serious. "I'm your driver to the airport tomorrow. You know I won't be hungover for that, so clearly I haven't had too much tonight."

Arven snorts and lifts a hand to pat affectionately on your head, but he misses phenomenally, smushing your face instead. The two of you erupt into giggles, rolling over onto your stomachs as you do, so you can more easily sit up to look at one another from your separate legs of the sofa.

The laughter quiets naturally.

Arven knows he loves you. He has for a long time, but he's just never been able to say it. The words can't come out. He's tried to show it every other way he can, so it mostly comes out as food and snacks given to you whenever he can muster it up, and you don't seem to be any the wiser. You always just smile up at him with those same sparkling eyes. It's maddening and dizzying and infuriating and enamoring all at once.

And you're smiling at him like that now.

And then you're leaning in.

He's leaning in, too.

It takes nothing for your lips to meet. There are no fireworks, no crackles of electricity, no orchestra that plays some swelling love song in his head.

You're just kissing, and it's perfect. You only part to actually sit up, so the two of you aren't stuck in a cobra-pose on the couch forever, but in that brief moment of adjustment, you're both blushing, scooting closer to one another, each lifting one knee up to stay on the couch while the other bends down to the floor.

You won't look at each other, but your fingers find one another, interlocking tightly.

"I-I--" Arven starts, getting ready to apologize, but he isn’t sure why.

"Will you do that again?" You ask over him.

His jaw drops as he looks down at you. "Yeah... Absolutely."

He leans in, and you're kissing again, with Arven hovering over you, large and unimposing and wonderful. With the angle, it's more than easy for the two of you to just keep falling further down, down, down, until he's properly on top of you, pressing one of your legs bent at the knee against the back of the sofa while your other foot trails lightly against the floor, knocking against Arven’s discarded champagne bottle.

Arven's hand that isn't holding yours is in your hair, his nails scratching lightly at the back of your neck. When the action makes you gasp into him, he takes the initiative to deepen your kiss, grazing his tongue along your lower lip before it explores further into your mouth.

You meet him eagerly, rolling your body up to meet his as your free hand scratches lightly down his still-clothed back.

Arven hums into you and breaks the kiss to sit up. He grips the lower hem of his shirt and gives you a questioning look, only proceeding to remove the garment when you've enthusiastically nodded, biting your lip to hold back eager giggles.

"God, you look so good..." You tell him, running your hands up and down his torso once he's bare, making him shiver and blush all at once.

"C-C'mon..." He says, not meeting your eye but still going on to continue kissing you in a way that has you happily obliging.

Seconds, minutes, or hours could have passed like that between the two of you, just kissing, and you wouldn't have been any the wiser, but eventually one of Arven's hands grows daring, skirting just along the edge of your top, tickling at the skin of your abdomen there with its pervading warmth before moving up and behind your back. You sit up just the tiniest bit, nipping at his mouth before breaking off the kiss, so you can properly remove your top and bra for him.

"You...uh, this is what you wanted, right?" You ask with a nervous laugh, and Arven's too busy trying not to stare at your tits. He just nods kinda dumbly in the way that men often do, leaning in to kiss you again, so you don't have to watch as he paws and squeezes at you, tweaking at your nipple in a way that gets you gasping his name, which, fuck... Arven didn't think his name could sound so good.

He tears himself from your mouth to kiss and bite at your breast while one of his hands kneads the other.

You squirm beneath his ministrations, gasping in delight at his touch.

It takes very little before you're grinding against him, purposefully pulling your leg up and over his hip for better leverage to rut against the growing hardness in his pants.

"Fuck," Arven groans, pulling his mouth off your tit in a way that has you hissing in pleasure as he dips his forehead to rest between your breasts. "Keep doing that, and I'm gonna cum in my pants, damn..."

"And what if that's what I want?" You tease him as you continue, feeding into the growing wetness between your thighs.

Arven barks a light laugh from his place at your chest, one of his hands squeezing your hip right at the apex where your body meets leg. "I'd think that wouldn't be very fun for you?" As he speaks he rolls his hips into yours, purposefully grinding against your center, making you moan just the tiniest bit.

"See?" He continues, egging you on in the best way. The hand at your hip travels inward, bit by nervous bit. "I-If you want, I mean?"

You nod almost frantically with a "Yes, please!" and Arven has to stop himself for a moment, his hand paused right at the seam where your inner thigh meets your panties, your skirt having been rolled up ages ago.

He looks at you, tries to memorize the way your hair splays out beneath you, the flush of your cheeks, the way your eyelashes fan out against them when your eyes close, your fingers grasping for purchase against the fabric of his sofa. It's all being committed to memory.

He shifts his fingers, tensing them against you just a bit before you can make any sound of impatience or discomfort at his hesitancy... Not hesitancy. No. He... He wants to savor this.

Slowly he moves, hooking his fingers beneath the elastic of your panties, maneuvering you just enough to get the article along with your skirt off and discarded somewhere on the floor. Then his hands are back on you again in an instant.

"Fuck," He whispers under his breath, half astounded as he stares down at you. "You're dripping for me..."

You wriggle your hips a bit, and he slips a single digit between your folds. The tightly coiled arousal in your stomach rolls through you, your toes curling in anticipation at just that simple touch.

"Fuck, Arven..." It's soft the way you say it. You grasp his wrist, not stopping him, just holding him there, as if he'd ever dare to leave.

He lets his finger drag upward just a bit, just so he can find--

You keen softly, rolling your hips against his hand, silently pleading him to focus there.

"I've got you..." He says softly, leaning back in to capture your mouth again, biting gently at your lower lip while you grind against his single finger stroking small circles around your clit.

"Fuck...fuck that's nice..." You groan against Arven's mouth, making him smile against you, renewing his efforts.

"You like that?" He asks, and it barely feels like teasing, especially when you so eagerly nod your enthusiasm to him.

"Hmm, god… More, please?"

Arven hums, continuing his pace just a bit longer before he lets his finger dip lower to press just at the edge of your entrance. When you roll your hips against him to fuck his finger into you, he lets it slip inside as you sigh, contented.

"Shit, you're so tight around just this one... Damn..." He tells you fondly as he starts to piston the digit slowly to match your pace before adding a second into the mix.

You moan lowly.

"K-keep going like that, fuck..." You tell him in a raspy, breathy voice.

"Yeah? Whatever you like," Arven tells you, adjusting his position above you just a bit, so he can lean a bit more on one of his knees, freeing up his other hand, so it can go to play with your clit.

The dual stimulation has you writhing and squirming almost instantaneously. Your moans turn high and needy real quickly from there, and within a minute or two, your vision goes white behind your eyes as your cunt pulses erratically around Arven's fingers with your orgasm washing over you.

It isn't until you pant a fucked-out "E-enough, enough...slow..." That he finally drags his fingers from your core, dripping with your essence.

He's so lost in the moment, internally congratulating himself on actually making you cum, that he jolts when he feels your hands on the button to his pants.

"Oh." You say, pulling back. "Sorry. Uh... Did... Did you not..?"

"No!" He says, too loud, then clears his throat and tries again, softer. Fuck, you're beautiful like this.

"I-I mean. I. I do. I want to. I just." He looks bashful. "Uh... I don't have any condoms? I can-- I mean, I'll go buy some. If you want."

You shrug. "Don't worry about it. I'm on the pill, and you can pull out to be extra safe?"

He nods. "If you're sure."

You nod.

Arven sighs, nodding again, partly to himself, then his hands go to his fly, and--

"Can I?" You ask, sweet as candy, and how can Arven do anything but nod and let his hands fall to the side as he watches you?

Your touch is featherlight as you free his cock from his boxer briefs; all Arven needed to do was lower his pants just a bit further down his hips. When you grasp him fully, Arven hisses between his teeth, resisting the urge to fuck your fist.

He lowers himself back down, and you purposefully and delightfully catch the tip of his cock along your clit as you lube him up before lining him to your entrance.

Arven looks at you, catching those sparkling eyes, still gleaming even in the low light of the evening. He rolls his hips forward, and you meet him halfway, the pair of you groaning in complete satisfaction at the union.

Just a moment later, after you've both adjusted, he starts to move, properly fucking you, balancing his weight on his forearm on the couch's armrest above your head. His eyes flutter closed, and he groans, cursing softly under his breath.

You match his pace as best you're able given the amount of room you have, hooking a leg over his hips to draw him into you deeper in a way that has you both moaning low, foreheads pressed together.

"F-feels so good..." You tell him breathily. Part of you considers snaking a hand down between you to toy with your clit again, but Arven must have read your mind because you feel his warm hand trailing up along your hip to squeeze in, pressing up just above where the two of you are joined. His thumb rolls your clit, applying just enough pressure that you jolt beneath him, losing your sense of rhythm, along with almost any other senses you have beyond your unwavering need for more of him and his fucking hands on you.

"Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, Arven," You chant like a stupid prayer, tucking your head into his shoulder. "Like that, please. Don't stop. Fuck. Please."

Arven smiles and kisses your temple, riding the high of the power trip. "Wouldn't dream of it..." He can't help the jolt of arousal that goes straight to his cock when you say things like that. Fuck. And the way you squeeze around him? He has to put a real, concerted effort into his ministrations or else he'd absolutely be blowing his load inside you, especially when your walls flutter like that? He could die like this and be a happy man, he knows it.

He's so wrapped up in his thoughts that it nearly startles him when you suddenly still, a moan caught halfway out your throat as your cunt squeezes him like a vice for a long, long moment before it starts rhythmically fluttering in time with your heart. Your head is tossed back as you cum around his cock, and--

And fuck, he needs to cum. Now. His hips stutter to a halt while he’s inside you, and he exhales slowly through his nose, letting you ride out your orgasm around him while he does his absolute best to hold on. As soon as he feels you've stilled somewhat, he pulls out, and just that motion, that friction, has him cumming ribbons that paint your stomach as he jerks himself through the remainder of it, panting with the effort it took to hold on for so long.

You watch him through your lashes, still trying to steady your own breath, shivering at the sensation of his hot cum lining stripes along your abdomen.

You sigh in time with Arven as he seems to finally calm, and the two of you stay silent for what feels like an eternity until eventually he hauls himself up with a grunt.

"Lemme, uh... I'll take care of that." Arven says noncommittally as he quickly moves to the kitchen where you hear him shuffle around and turn the faucet on.

When he returns, it's with a warm, wet cloth to wipe away the mess he's made of you, which he does meticulously and methodically. You shiver at his gentle touch.

"Uh... Sorry..." He says softly.

The absolute absurdity of it makes you laugh, bright and high. "Sorry? For the best sex I've probably ever had?" You stretch out on the sofa like a persian. "Please. You've just given me..." You yawn. "So much more...to look forward to...when you get back." You look back to him. "I-I mean... Uh. If. If this is...something you want?"

Arven drops to his knees to be at your level, looking at you with wide eyes.

"It is! I-I mean definitely! Yeah! Definitely. If you want. Yeah..." He gets this goopy, lovestruck look on his face that's so beyond endearing that you can't help but lean over to kiss him again.

"Good."

The next day, the two of you arrive at the airport hand in hand, and before you kiss goodbye, you promise to keep in touch, message as often as you can (as roaming fees allow) and that you'll see each other soon.

You watch Arven go through security, and when he's done, he waves from behind the glass, not taking his eyes from you until he's literally too far away.

If you cry a little bit on your way home, 'Raidon doesn't seem to tease you for it along the road.

With Arven gone, life basically continues as it had, albeit you're definitely feeling emptier. You continue work with the Pokémon League, performing basic research tasks for Jacq, and battling with Nemona to stay sharp. Every chance you get, you watch or listen to whatever videos get posted by the team Arven is working with, hoping for just a blip of him! Any time you see him, you comment and talk about how cute and handsome he is and how they should definitely show more of that cute guy with the two-toned hair. You giggle every time, hoping it helps some.

This particular morning, several weeks later, you and Nemona are outside Mesagoza, battling as you usually do, when a wave of nausea suddenly overtakes you.

You don't throw up or pass out, but the distraction of it keeps you from commanding your partner effectively, giving Nemona a leg up.

"Off your game today, eh?" She taunts you lightly from across the field.

You try to laugh, but you think you can literally feel the color draining from your face. You command Tinkaton to retaliate with a Gigaton Hammer, but then the world goes black around you.

Nemona's at your side in an instant (or is it longer than that?), panting with the effort it took to get to you so fast. Tinkaton and Goodra are also scurrying over with worried looks on their faces. "Hey! Hey, you okay?" She asks, holding up your head in her lap.

"What...?"

"You just dropped like a corviknight outta the sky, bestie. You've got me worried."

You shut your eyes tight and breathe through another wave of nausea.

"Yeah, I don't like whatever's happening." Nemona tells you. "Can you stand? I'll take you to the doctor."

More realistically, 'Raidon takes you to the doctor, and Nemona hangs around for moral support. She knows you've been kinda poorly since Arven left anyway, so she correctly guesses that you don't really want to be alone if you're about to go through a health crisis or something.

The two of you chat together while you wait for the results of your blood work and urinalysis to come back. The folks at the clinic had given you some fluids and told you to stay off your feet for a now for fear of another fainting spell, so you were basically stuck for a minute.

When the doctor returns, she asks if you'd like Nemona to stay while she gives you your results. The doctor doesn't seem terribly morbid or worried about anything, so you figure it can't be that bad, right?

You look to Nemona and smile, taking her hand.

"If that's okay?" You ask her.

Nemona smiles and nods, squeezing back.

The doctor returns your grins. "Since that's the case, let me go ahead and confirm your pregnancy, Miss."

Your brow furrows, and the edges of your vision go blurry like you're going to pass out all over again, and suddenly the only thing you can hear is the sound of your own blood pumping in your ears.

Everything looks so far away. Distantly, you know you're still holding Nemona's hand, but somehow it's as if your arm has stretched across the room and she's floating further and further from you. You can't even register what she looks like. What sort of face she must be making at you.

Whatever else happens at the clinic from there, you cannot recall. Obviously you must have said something or reacted in some way. You just know that Nemona brings you home with vitamins and appointment cards for follow up visits with different doctors for whatever route you decide to take.

She spends the night with you, curled up in a cuddle puddle with you and all of your pokemon, petting your hair softly as she sings something terribly out of tune but still soothing. She doesn't force anything out of you, knowing you'll tell her when you're ready.

That's how Nemona becomes the first person you tell about Arven and what you did. You spill everything to her the next morning as you cry into a bowl of sugary cereal, and she just rubs your back lovingly, spooning cornflakes into her mouth.

"So... What's the next step?"

"What do you mean?"

"Like... Are you going to tell him? Do you wanna keep it in the first place?"

"Geez, Nemona! That's a little direct."

"What?!" She puts her hands up placatingly.

"Of course I'm gonna tell him. Can you imagine if I didn't? I feel like that'd break his heart... He deserves to know. And I mean..." You look down. Of course you're not showing yet it's way too early. In some other world this would be where you put a hand on your lower abdomen and fantasize for a moment about it all, building a family, a bouncing baby and a husband and a white picket fence. But for some reason, you can't bring yourself to do it. That would make things a little bit too real for what you're willing to handle right now. But even then. "I-I wanna talk to him first. I...think I want to do this... But... He should have a say too, right?"

Nemona puts a hand on your shoulder. "Your word is most important, if you ask me."

You take a moment to breathe. "Yeah. I'm gonna tell him. I gotta talk to him first before deciding anything else."

And then you don't.

Or. Well. You try. You really do!

Thing is, it's really difficult to get a hold of Arven since he's been abroad. Your texts are sporadic at best.

Part of you just considers waiting. After all, he's off doing something really wonderful for himself. He's living his dream! Becoming an amazing man and making things happen for himself! He spent his entire life until now doing things for other people, waiting on his parents to come home, acting as an errand boy before finding out what had happened, then caring for Mabosstiff...

How could you call him to come home over something like this? That would be horrible of you. He needs to be able to do something for himself, and living his dream in Kalos is it!

But...he definitely deserves to know. He would want to know, wouldn't he?

You have to tell him.

So eventually you shoot Arven a message.

-hey! wanna video chat tonight?

-What time? I've got some stuff going on this evening, plus a pretty packed schedule in the morning, but I'd love to see you!

-oh! well maybe some other time then

-Ok ❤️

....And then a few days go by...

Fuck!!!!! Why are you like this???

You send him a picture of Tinkaton on top of 'Raidon another time which Arven laugh-reacts at, making your heart go all fluttery.

-wanna call tonight? i miss you

-I miss you too, buddy! Let's plan for it.

But then the time of your call comes and goes, and you end up falling asleep waiting for the phone to ring, your ??? texts having gone unanswered.

Finally a few days later you just call him one evening. You're getting too antsy and nervous, and you have to get this thing off your chest and/or uterus.

The phone rings several times, and when he finally picks up, you hear the sound of shuffling, then Arven whispering.

"What's going on?" He asks, soft but harsh. "I'm kinda in the middle of a thing. Is everything okay?"

"Uh..." I missed you. I'm so sorry. I'm kinda carrying your baby right now, and I'm so sorry but I think I'm going to crush your dreams by asking if you want to come home to be with me to raise it together? Is that even a thing that you want? Your mouth goes dry, and your stomach twists in knots. Now absolutely isn't the time for nausea, but when is?

"You there?" Arven asks, sounding a bit more annoyed.

"Y-Yeah. Sorry..." You finally respond after swallowing back a lump in your throat. "I just... I..."

You hear more shuffling on the other end and Arven's voice calling out to whoever else must be around him. "Hey, give me a minute, I need to take this!" Then some more sounds of what you imagine must be him going somewhere more secluded. "What's going on? Did something happen?"

"Uh..." Fuck fuck fuck. You have to tell him. "I-I just... I miss you."

You hear him exhale a sigh over the phone, but you can't tell if it's fond or exasperated. "Miss you, too. Is something going on?"

"Everything's okay, no one's dying or anything," Quite the opposite in fact. "I just... I wish I could see you..." Not what you wanted to talk about. Come on. Spit it out! "Uh... Will you maybe be able to take a weekend off or something soon? Maybe come and visit?"

Arven chuckles a bit. "I wish I could see you, too! But no, they're keeping me pretty busy here, but it's in the best way! I can't tell you how much I'm learning! The stuff I'm working on, it's beyond anything I've ever even imagined! Plus they're talking about maybe starting a new program, and they're going to need talent."

Your heart contorts in your chest. He's having such a nice time...

"I'm...I'm so happy for you." You finally squeak out.

"Yeah!" Arven ends up going on a mini-rant about a bunch of new techniques he's learning, and your heart melts. You don't even realize tears are silently streaming down your cheeks until Arven interrupts himself with a "Shit! Sorry. I totally forgot about filming. I gotta go. Talk to you later!"

He hangs up before you can even say bye.

In the end, you force yourself to text him. You clearly can't break the news out loud, and he has to know.

You wait until just after the work day ends, figuring that would be the ideal time to tell him, so he isn't at work, and he won't have to worry about it during a work day, and also you're not interrupting him in the middle of a nap or something, and he can call you to talk, since.....yeah he's probably going to want to talk.

Hey! I know this isn't ideal, and I really would have rather said it in person or over a face call or even just a regular call, but I think you need to know, and I'm having a really hard time verbalizing it to you. I'm sorry to do it this way, but it's better to say it now than not at all, right?

I'm pregnant, and it's yours.

I'm so, so, SO sorry! I promise I didn't mean for it to happen like this, and I'm not trying to like…baby trap you or something. I swear! You're my best friend in the whole world, and I'm so happy that you can go and live your dream in Kalos right now. But I just feel like you should know? Like you should have a say in what happens here? I'd love to talk to you. Do...do you want to do this? Because....well if you're willing I'd want to try this. With you. But I also know that you're living your dream right now, and I don't want to get in the way of that! I want you to be able to really embrace this new journey you're taking and learn and grow and do wonderful things! But I just wanted you to know, you know? Please don't hate me. Just give me a call when you have a minute, and we can figure this out. Okay?

You hit send and then wait.

It took nearly all of your bodily strength not to add "I love you" to the end of the message. You'd never said it out loud to each other before. Sure... You wanted to tons of times before now, but it just never happened, so it just didn't feel right to put it in a text first.

Yeah, telling someone you're pregnant with their kid via text also isn't really kosher, but you can only break so many rules at once.

You check your phone.

Nothing.

He may just be busy.

It's fine. You just need to be patient.

So you make yourself some food, play a bit with your pokemon. You think they can pick up on the change in you. Even Tinkaton seems a little less feral around you lately, which is kinda wild.

You cozy up to Skeledirge, running your fingers across his bony nose.

Still no reply.

You turn your phone off and on again just to see if maybe that does something? Like it'll reboot your messages?

Nothing.

"Fuuuuuuck!" You groan, kicking your legs petulantly, startling Skeledirge off the sofa with you.

TV isn't much of a distraction, and neither is social media, really, but you try to watch a few videos, read a few articles. Hell, you even answer some work emails in an attempt to distract yourself from the silence of your phone.

You check it before you shower, and there's no response.

The warm water doesn't do anything to quell your nerves, and you're about ready to have a panic attack by the time you dash back to the phone, still in your towel, your hair dripping all over the floor, and there are no notifications waiting for you.

You try to calm yourself with some steadying breaths.

Who knows what might be happening? His phone might have died during the day! He may have accidentally left it at home! Maybe your message didn't even go through fully!

You sneak another peak at your messaging app to be sure, but...

Well, it... It actually looks like your message has been read.

Okay.

He's seen it.

Cool.

Just.

Just give him a minute to process it. He'll probably call or message you back as soon as he can.

Except he doesn't.

You fall asleep on the sofa that night, clutching your phone in one hand, waiting for any kind of acknowledgement from Arven.

Wakefulness takes you with a jolt, and you actually drop the device with the rotom inside narrowly preventing it from shattering on the floor.

It floats back up to you, and you open your messages again.

Except, now it's saying your message from last night is unread? But that couldn't be... You saw the read notification and even made a note of the time.

You try to call Arven. It's early enough that he shouldn't be at work yet.

The phone doesn't even ring before you hear an automated "We're sorry. The number you're trying to reach is no longer in service."

Did...did he block you? No. He wouldn't do that, would he?

That's...that's not like him at all, and you know it.

Right?

You restart your phone and try again, but it's the same thing.

Maybe...maybe he did block you.

You curl up a bit.

Something has to be wrong, right?

You'll give it a minute.

Eventually you give in and decide that the best way to contact Arven is going to have to be through the agency he's working with. Someone there can get you in touch, right? Like, at least get you some closure?

You wait until the Kalosian work day has started before you call, and when the line picks up, the voice on the other end is some peppy sounding woman. You introduce yourself and tell her you're trying to get in touch with Arven, that you're a friend from home.

She repeats your name back to you then says "...And you wanna talk to Arven..." She pauses on the other line. "Y'know, I don't think he's in yet this morning. Truth be told, and honestly, I probably shouldn't tell you this, but you said you're a friend? Yeah… He seemed like he got some really bad news yesterday." Your heart clenches, but she keeps going like a stereotypical gossip. "Yeah. Real rough day for him, honestly. Don't know why. Seemed pretty frustrated."

"Frustrated?"

"Yeah, I dunno... I don't really get it either. He just accepted this great full time role in our upcoming program."

"Oh..." You think you remember him mentioning something about a program when you'd spoken last. So he got offered a full job? And took it without even talking to you?

"But anyway, you didn't hear that from me. So did you want me to take a message for you?"

"Uh...no thanks. Sorry. Thanks."

You hang up before she can say anything else, your hands shaking.

He... He really must have blocked you.

On the other side, the PR representative for Bonne Applintite hears the call end and smiles. Not too long later, Arven enters the building, hiking his bag a bit higher up onto his shoulder.

"Good morning," He greets cheerily. "Do you have my phone ready and updated with the latest apps and everything for the agency?"

"I sure do!" The woman replies with a saccharine grin, sliding his rotom phone over from across the desk. "Thanks for leaving it with me overnight. Everything should be all set to go. Did you...?" She drifts off, her manicured nails creeping forward along the marble surface, her tone leading.

"Think about the offer?" Arven finishes. "Uh... Yeah. I did. I just wanna check in with someone back home first, y'know? It just seems like kind of a big leap. Like... I'm honored really, and I'm so happy people like my content... I just wanna talk about it first."

The woman shrugs. "Whatever you say, Arvie. I just think this'd be a great opportunity for you."

"It is, but..." He smiles fondly, totally disregarding the nickname. "We'll see what happens I guess. By the way, did I happen to get any messages last night? There’s a girl back home, and–"

“You know what? I didn’t see anything.” She interrupts him, smiling too big and speaking too loudly through teeth that are just a little too white. “Seems like she may have forgotten to text you.”

“Weird.” He replies, already walking off, his eyes glued to the device as he searches it for your contact.

Hm. Looks like some of his data got deleted, your previous text chains included... No biggie though. Your name is still there in his contacts, and that's really all he cares about. He can't wait to tell you about this new opportunity! Sure, he's kinda nervous about it. He's only been here for barely 2 months, if that, but apparently he's got some major skill, and people really like him! It's...it's actually really reassuring and affirming to him.

Growing up, Paldea had just been a place where he lived. In Kalos, with all these people around him showing him all this love and stuff... It feels like a home. It feels kinda like how he feels with you. It's not the same of course, but... He just feels like he's blossoming or something. It's wonderful.

Maybe you'd like it here, too...

Except you don't.

The conversation goes horribly. Arven doesn't get it. You don't sound like you. You were dismissive of him in the most bizarre way, basically telling him that he can fuck off and do as he likes--that you're not interested in maintaining contact anymore. It hurts. Did you find someone else or something? Hell, he hadn't been gone that long, and isn't absence supposed to make the heart grow fonder or something? You won't even video chat or pick up the phone, even though you'd been the one who had just asked him to call not long ago.

That evening he slumps against the foot of his bed, Mabosstiff at his side, snuffling his pockets.

Arven sighs. "Well, Bud... Guess it's just you and me again for a bit..." He takes out his phone and looks over the PDF of the contract that had been sent to him.

Two and a half years total, including his current apprenticeship...

Fuck it. He's enjoyed his time here so far. What's a bit more time?

Not like anyone's gonna miss him in Paldea anyway. He spent his life, basically until now, waiting for people there to love him. At least here he's got a fresh start with a leg up.

He sends over his eSignature on the document and texts the PR rep.

-hey! Just signed the thing. Looks like I'll be here for a bit after all.

Her response is almost instant.

-yayyyyy!!!! let's go grab drinks to celebrate!!!!!!

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