♠ anonymous (a series of children asks for the meme i never reblogged)

Will you look at that? Just look at it. Look! It’s the most pathetic sight Ace has ever witnessed happening on his kitchen floor, but of course he’d never watched himself lying there, snoring after succumbing to a narcoleptic moment or after filling his stomach with twice as much food any common man could take in without barfing - a happy tummy is a sleepy tummy!

Hovering the child, Ace crossed his arms and watched that display. _____’s belly was bloated, the untucked shirttail revealing a glorious curve of frosty happiness underneath as well as the belly button it should cover. A brown stream of chocolate ice cream flowed out of his mouth. If all of this did not constitute enough evidence for his crime, the scoop lying flat on the tiles certainly did, a portion of ice cream still inside as if to mock the kid. 

Boy, was he milking it!

Ace was not mad at his son for emptying five tubs of ice cream… He was mad at his son for not making it to half-a-dozen! Was this the kind of wimp he was raising?

“Get up” he said with a roll of the eyes and a tired sigh in-between words. While it was plain to see that the boy was in pain, Ace also knew his son and therefore suspected a part of his double-meaning bellyaching was just his amateur dramatics at work. 

The boy’s next declaration proved it so but, instead of it blessing his father’s features with a smile any boy his own age would bear, painted it with fire and anger.

“I said get up!” A hand seized _____’s arm and pulled him up with no mercy for his poor stomach’s condition or overall state of misery. Ace was acting brutish, no doubt, but he had good reason for it - the last thing he wanted, needed, was for his beloved son to joke about death. 

What did the boy know of it? Nothing. And just as well, too. Fate had saved him the pain of having his mother irrevocably taken away from him. But it had not been so kind to Ace, who, after losing his companion his own ways, now feared fate, with a wolfish appetite for his particular destruction, would send his son on a one-way trip to the other side as well. He had every right to be touchy and find no humour in death.

In a grim voice only a few knew he was capable of, his son one not among them, Ace spoke rather ominous words “Don’t you say that ever again”

Then, his expression would soften but he’d remain quiet, allowing the command to sink in, and he would lift the boy in his arms to take him to the bathroom and provide him with soothing hot water.