ooc: so having seen the movie, i canât promise that there wonât be spoilers on this blog but i do promise to tag anything that may have a spoiler in as âventure bros spoilerâ so you can blacklist things.
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ooc: so having seen the movie, i canât promise that there wonât be spoilers on this blog but i do promise to tag anything that may have a spoiler in as âventure bros spoilerâ so you can blacklist things.
Malcolm raised an eyebrow at his wifeâs nickname for the Mary Poppins of villainy. Uncle Henry?
Bug began to coo, the talking having roused him from his milk drunk nap against Sheilaâs shoulder.
âI vas worried your husband vas impotent. Vith clones it is always a mix bag. I am glad zat vasnât the case.â
The Monarch snapped at that fury in his eyes. He knew this whole time about him being a clone. âWhat the fuck?! You knew?!â
Dr. Killinger shrugged. âI thought it vas obvious. You are very hirsute.â
Great, and he also knew about the baboon part.
Oh god...she does not need all this. Sheila does not need this to become posturing (on her husband's end) and whatever (on Killinger's end). Rocking the baby very gently in her arms, she steps between the two men.
"Yes, yes, the cat's out of the bad, apparently his swimmers are stronger than that. This is the child."
She doesn't hand the baby over just yet, but she at least twists so Killinger can look at his little squishy face.
âOh!â Dr. Killinger clasped his hand in front of his face, he always loved seeing the final outcome of his projects.
âAck, I need a momentâŠâ He sniffed getting choked up. âI told myself I vouldnât cryâŠâ
Malcolm smirked the tiniest bit as Dr. Killinger sat back down. A burst of pride blooming in his chest as his son brought a grown man to tears, albeit with his cuteness but still!
âYeah, I said that too. Didnât happen, everything about him is just so small.â He confessed.
plotted long ago with @sayonaradumbass
Bug had been alive and kicking in the world for about a week and the adjustment period was rough. It wasnât that the newborn was necessarily fussy. But he knew what he wanted and when he wanted it. And had no means to communicate it.
Malcolm and Gary looked absolutely road haggard and The Mighty Monarch was kind of jealous that his wife somehow managed to look picture perfect despite the lack of sleep, constantly having a kid gnawing at her tit and diapers that have actually made him vomit.
âI vish to see ze child.â
The Monarch nearly jumped out of his skin, and absolutely spilled the precious lifeblood of coffee that he was clinging to. His cool Mighty Monarch track suit had been trashed at this point, why not add cruelty free dark roast to the mess.
He looked where the voice came from and the familiar mumble with a German accent came from the man sitting in a wing back chair.
âI have made a purchase from ze registry. Zere is a gift receipt in ze bag.â
Sheila feels about as bad as her boys look. Inside she's dying-- her body hurts, her tits hurt, and leak at the baby's insistent cry-- there's been poop in her hair POOP!!!! Nothing that bad even happened when they were in the cocoon.
Good news (??) though? Sheila has honed the mighty necessary skill of falling asleep at the drop of a hat. Standing up? Snoreville. On the toilet for a BLESSED MOMENT ALONE? Snoooormimimimimi.
She jolts awake at that familiar voice--
"What the-- Uncle Henry?" What is...he doing-- how did?
Malcolm raised an eyebrow at his wifeâs nickname for the Mary Poppins of villainy. Uncle Henry?
Bug began to coo, the talking having roused him from his milk drunk nap against Sheilaâs shoulder.
âI vas worried your husband vas impotent. Vith clones it is always a mix bag. I am glad zat vasnât the case.â
The Monarch snapped at that fury in his eyes. He knew this whole time about him being a clone. âWhat the fuck?! You knew?!â
Dr. Killinger shrugged. âI thought it vas obvious. You are very hirsute.â
Great, and he also knew about the baboon part.
plotted long ago with @sayonaradumbass
Bug had been alive and kicking in the world for about a week and the adjustment period was rough. It wasnât that the newborn was necessarily fussy. But he knew what he wanted and when he wanted it. And had no means to communicate it.
Malcolm and Gary looked absolutely road haggard and The Mighty Monarch was kind of jealous that his wife somehow managed to look picture perfect despite the lack of sleep, constantly having a kid gnawing at her tit and diapers that have actually made him vomit.
âI vish to see ze child.â
The Monarch nearly jumped out of his skin, and absolutely spilled the precious lifeblood of coffee that he was clinging to. His cool Mighty Monarch track suit had been trashed at this point, why not add cruelty free dark roast to the mess.
He looked where the voice came from and the familiar mumble with a German accent came from the man sitting in a wing back chair.
âI have made a purchase from ze registry. Zere is a gift receipt in ze bag.â
For a kid whoâd been in agonizing pain only an hour before, Bug was pretty chipper. He didnât hurt anymore, his parents were there. It was great as he hummed some little tune.
Malcolm steered Sheila toward one of the chairs that had been previously occupied. He was fussing, he did that when he was anxious.
âJohn Jacob Jingleheimer Schmidt, his name was my name tooâŠâ Bug was beginning to transition from humming to singing quietly.
A doctor in a white lab coat and scrubs came in. âYou must be Donovanâs parents, Iâm Dr. Brickmyer.â
Malcolm looked almost confused for a second until he remembered Bug wasnât actually Bugâs real name.
Sheila hopes that, despite the downside of him being on these painkillers, that this cheer continues. Bug could use it, they could use it as well-- this cheer in the darkness of what had happened.
"Yes, that's us," she nods, squeezing Malcolm's hand to snap him out of it. Yes, yes, they'd used Bug so often, and since the beginning, that sometimes even she forgets.
"What's the next step, doctor?"
âIâd like to get an MRI just to be certain he only has a concussion because that was an impressive fall he took. Otherwise, I want to avoid surgery unless itâs absolutely necessary.â
He was looking over Bugâs file. âRight now, however, we want to get a soft cast on that legs, and begin to set it. Most parents donât want to be in the room for this.â
When they enter his room in pediatric emergency, the blonde haired little boy sitting next to his mother in the uncomfortable hospital chairs immediately speaks up.
âI told him not to do it.â Luke sounds almost exasperated. âI said it was a dumb idea.â
In the bed, delightful high on IV pain medication, Bug speaks up. âMommy! They said I broke my leg! They saw my bones!â He sounded fascinated and thrilled.
âSo they said he has a standard break, it might need surgery if they canât set it by hand. Heâs on a morphine drip for now. The nurse said they needed you two here for them to do that. And for an MRI, they think he has a concussion but they want to make sure itâs not more severe.â Kathleen offered Malcolm and Sheila all the information she had while gathering her things, handing the duty of care back over to the Bugâs father and mother. She gave Sheila a brief hug, theyâd become pretty close over the years thanks to the boys.
âI confiscated the grappling gun.â She added with her thick New Jersey accent. âIf you want to send the big guy around to get it.â Clearly referring to Gary. âI better go save Bryan from the rabid horde we left him with, câmon Luke.â
Luke looked nervous for his best friend. âBye, Bug. Feel better.â
Thank god for Kathleen. She'd really been her rock when it'd come to this whole trying to be a mom out here-- even without any added feature of Villany, she was a godsend. Even just complaining and having a little drink--
Sheila tries to strongest-weak smile she can and waves to Luke once his mother pulls away. Then the Monarchs are left to the silence-- the beeping of the monitors, Bug humming to himself-- not silent at all.
It's all so much...her mind is whirling-- a clean break or not, surgery this young, a concussion-- she has half a mind to burn the grappling hook later.
She hasn't let go of Malcolm's hand since they got here.
For a kid whoâd been in agonizing pain only an hour before, Bug was pretty chipper. He didnât hurt anymore, his parents were there. It was great as he hummed some little tune.
Malcolm steered Sheila toward one of the chairs that had been previously occupied. He was fussing, he did that when he was anxious.
âJohn Jacob Jingleheimer Schmidt, his name was my name tooâŠâ Bug was beginning to transition from humming to singing quietly.
A doctor in a white lab coat and scrubs came in. âYou must be Donovanâs parents, Iâm Dr. Brickmyer.â
Malcolm looked almost confused for a second until he remembered Bug wasnât actually Bugâs real name.
âBeth Israel.â And theyâd been having such a nice time.
âBug, in all his wisdom, decided to show off the grappling gun. Apparently he broke the gutter, managed to fall several feet and had to be taken by ambulance.â
At the hospital, Bug looked rough and absolutely dwarfed by the hospital bed he was in. He was moving in and out of being conscious as he received some good pain medicine. His leg was very much broken.
Luke and Lukeâs mother, Kathleen, were keeping vigil. The doctors wouldnât tell them much because Kathleen wasnât Bugâs mother, but the angle the boyâs leg was out was not normal at all.
Sheila tries to compartmentalize things the way she normally does-- lists of things that'll happen, that she has to do, that she wants to do. That's the only mantra she'll keep up as they march through the bright, jarring halls of the hospital, Malcolm's hand squeezed in hers.
It feels like some sort of bizarre Alice in Wonderland path, through halls and doors that have too-loud locks to reach their baby boy.
When they enter his room in pediatric emergency, the blonde haired little boy sitting next to his mother in the uncomfortable hospital chairs immediately speaks up.
âI told him not to do it.â Luke sounds almost exasperated. âI said it was a dumb idea.â
In the bed, delightful high on IV pain medication, Bug speaks up. âMommy! They said I broke my leg! They saw my bones!â He sounded fascinated and thrilled.
âSo they said he has a standard break, it might need surgery if they canât set it by hand. Heâs on a morphine drip for now. The nurse said they needed you two here for them to do that. And for an MRI, they think he has a concussion but they want to make sure itâs not more severe.â Kathleen offered Malcolm and Sheila all the information she had while gathering her things, handing the duty of care back over to the Bugâs father and mother. She gave Sheila a brief hug, theyâd become pretty close over the years thanks to the boys.
âI confiscated the grappling gun.â She added with her thick New Jersey accent. âIf you want to send the big guy around to get it.â Clearly referring to Gary. âI better go save Bryan from the rabid horde we left him with, câmon Luke.â
Luke looked nervous for his best friend. âBye, Bug. Feel better.â
âItâd be a nightmare. Actual hell.â Malcolmâs train of thought was derailed when his cell phone rang, brow furrowing when he saw the contact.
âYouâve reached the Mighty Monarch.â His face drops and he sighs deeply. âYouâve gotta be fucking kidding me.â He was massaging his temples. âI mean him being alive is ideal. Not a fan of the fact that youâre reassuring me of that.â A pause. âYes, Iâll make sure she knows itâs not your fault.â Another pause. âAwesome, great. Which one?â Malcolm clicked his tongue. âYeah, yeah. Bye.â
He set the phone down and took a deep breath. âThat was just Bryan with a Y.â Because of course two of their sonâs friends had fathers name Brian. âYouâll never guess what our son, whom we love very much, did?â
He really shouldâve taken the grappling gun from Bug when he dropped him off.
She would have been more concerned if Malcolm had been screaming. Or hadn't made any noise at all. That would be troubling, and terrifying in itself.
For now there's a knot in her stomach that she isn't sure is her fear, or the littlest caterpillar.
"Something that's going to get him grounded for a year," Sheila replies steadily.
"What hospital?" She's already up from her seat, her mostly untouched food forgotten.
âBeth Israel.â And theyâd been having such a nice time.
âBug, in all his wisdom, decided to show off the grappling gun. Apparently he broke the gutter, managed to fall several feet and had to be taken by ambulance.â
At the hospital, Bug looked rough and absolutely dwarfed by the hospital bed he was in. He was moving in and out of being conscious as he received some good pain medicine. His leg was very much broken.
Luke and Lukeâs mother, Kathleen, were keeping vigil. The doctors wouldnât tell them much because Kathleen wasnât Bugâs mother, but the angle the boyâs leg was out was not normal at all.
âI mean, all the candy could soften the blow? He seems pretty content being an only child. You know, weâre lucky he was an only child. Can you imagine if youâd had twins? Two Bugs?â
Twins did seem to run in Malcolmâs family. Blessedly neither of their children, both the one who was currently no doubt living it up with his little friends and the one still cooking, came in a bundle package with a duplicate.
She frowns deeper, clearly not buying that. Their little guy's going to be....worried, maybe. She can't imagine he'd be excited about it-- a few years ago, maybe. But now at this age?
"We'd be dead if there were two Bugs at the time." It would have been so bad, much as she loves her kid, her husband-- the Worst.
âItâd be a nightmare. Actual hell.â Malcolmâs train of thought was derailed when his cell phone rang, brow furrowing when he saw the contact.
âYouâve reached the Mighty Monarch.â His face drops and he sighs deeply. âYouâve gotta be fucking kidding me.â He was massaging his temples. âI mean him being alive is ideal. Not a fan of the fact that youâre reassuring me of that.â A pause. âYes, Iâll make sure she knows itâs not your fault.â Another pause. âAwesome, great. Which one?â Malcolm clicked his tongue. âYeah, yeah. Bye.â
He set the phone down and took a deep breath. âThat was just Bryan with a Y.â Because of course two of their sonâs friends had fathers name Brian. âYouâll never guess what our son, whom we love very much, did?â
He really shouldâve taken the grappling gun from Bug when he dropped him off.
âWeâre going to have to tell him soon, you know?â They were going to have to tell everyone soon. It was going to be hard to ignore before long.
âNot that we need it, but the malpractice person at our insurance said we could get a couple mil for this lil surprise. Apparently failed vasectomies are a huge money maker.â
She hums.
"As much as the money sounds nice...it doesn't leave a very good taste in my mouth."
Sure, it was a mistake but wouldn't that one day make this one feel bad? A little jolt of guilt there.
"And we'll tell him. Want to tell him tomorrow?"
âI mean, all the candy could soften the blow? He seems pretty content being an only child. You know, weâre lucky he was an only child. Can you imagine if youâd had twins? Two Bugs?â
Twins did seem to run in Malcolmâs family. Blessedly neither of their children, both the one who was currently no doubt living it up with his little friends and the one still cooking, came in a bundle package with a duplicate.
âBut you know he adores you, right? Even though you have to be the bad guy. Heâs a complete mommaâs boy in the best way possible.â He gave her a small smile. Perhaps peace had managed to be achieved.
âAnd if it makes you feel, Iâll do my best to be the bad guy as often as possible when it comes to this one.â Malcolm gestured at her stomach.
That was also something they needed to talk about, since Malcolm (and to a lesser extent Sheila) avoided acknowledging it anymore than absolutely necessary. Sheila was staring down the barrel of being five months gone and they hadnât even told Bug yet.
She gives a tiny smile in return. He is absolutely a mama's boy to the nth power-- and she hopes, even when he's grown, he'll still think back fondly on his old momma.
Her hands come to rest delicately on her belly-- more of a little hill than an ant hill.
"I think you're doomed to be the softie no matter what, with this one."
âWeâre going to have to tell him soon, you know?â They were going to have to tell everyone soon. It was going to be hard to ignore before long.
âNot that we need it, but the malpractice person at our insurance said we could get a couple mil for this lil surprise. Apparently failed vasectomies are a huge money maker.â
âItâs because whenever I do he takes it as a challenge and does it anyway! He loves me, sure, but he respects you, thats how itâs always been. From day one.â He was using his fork to gesture as he spoke before taking another bite.
âRemember the second time he broke his arm? He was doing something I had literally told him to not do. So many of the emergency room trips weâve made involved him specifically not listening to me. And the worst part? I donât think he knows he does it.â
She frowns, picking at her food with disinterest. Is it really like that? True, it seems like he always takes what his father tells him to be a challenge. Don't do that-- but does, and with a twist! Just to see if he could.
"Maybe...but still. I have to break his heart, I have to put my foot down. That doesn't always feel great, Malcolm."
âBut you know he adores you, right? Even though you have to be the bad guy. Heâs a complete mommaâs boy in the best way possible.â He gave her a small smile. Perhaps peace had managed to be achieved.
âAnd if it makes you feel, Iâll do my best to be the bad guy as often as possible when it comes to this one.â Malcolm gestured at her stomach.
That was also something they needed to talk about, since Malcolm (and to a lesser extent Sheila) avoided acknowledging it anymore than absolutely necessary. Sheila was staring down the barrel of being five months gone and they hadnât even told Bug yet.
He winced the tiniest bit at her poking his chest. âPoint taken, the shit version of me saw what he couldâve had if he wasnât pathetic. That is less than ideal.â
Malcolm took a cautious bite of his food, only a little bit afraid that it might be poisoned. âYouâre not always the bad guy! And this situation has no bad guy option! I didnât expect him to walk away dressed to take down the little prick who stole his bike with possibly lethal force!â
Her frown doesn't diminish, and she even arches a brow at him.
"I am always the bad guy when it comes to our son. It's me telling him no, it's me having to disappoint him-- you hang the moon and stars to him--" And maybe, deep down, she is a little jealous of that still. "You never have to tell him no, or break his little heart."
She's glad he'll get to deal with his own bullies, though. A lot less murder.
âItâs because whenever I do he takes it as a challenge and does it anyway! He loves me, sure, but he respects you, thats how itâs always been. From day one.â He was using his fork to gesture as he spoke before taking another bite.
âRemember the second time he broke his arm? He was doing something I had literally told him to not do. So many of the emergency room trips weâve made involved him specifically not listening to me. And the worst part? I donât think he knows he does it.â
He took a deep breath. Just got to rip the band aid off, Malcolm. Youâre the Mighty Fucking Monarch, you can handle your wife being pissed off.
He turned the door knob and entered the vestibule. He took off his coat, hat and shoes, putting them in their correct places. And he checked himself in the mirror.
Just unleash the old Monarch charm, itâll be fine. Itâs not like he meant to go against the agreement they had regarding Bugâs involvement in the whole good guy vs bad guy game. He technically was just getting his son a nice costume for Halloween and it accidentally turned into his first costume for a lil bit more than that.
âSweetness, Iâm home!â Malcolm called out before making his way to the kitchen.
Apparently that was going to be the location for his assassination, as he came face to face with Sheila.
He sat at the island counter in front of the plate of food waiting for him. âI want you to know, before you commit mariticide, that Bug has no idea about the Blue Morpho being more than a character in those stupid old Team Venture comics.â
Her expression is rather solemn and unmoved by both his confidence and his nervousness that she can practically smell wafting off of him. Delicious. If he thinks this is going to save him-- he's dead wrong, as he often is.
Sheila makes herself a plate and sits across from him.
"Look...accident or not, what's done is done. He won't be oblivious to all this forever-- he's a smart boy."
Their smart boy.
"But I'll say this." She leans in. "I didn't carry him for 9 months, deliver him painkiller free, and have Pete fucking White and Big Head Billy look at my snatch for me to be the bad guy all the time."
She reaches over now to prod him harshly in the chest--
"Rusty goddamn Venture saw my snatch. I am NOT going to be the bad guy, Malcolm. You have to grow some balls one day and tell that boy no."
He winced the tiniest bit at her poking his chest. âPoint taken, the shit version of me saw what he couldâve had if he wasnât pathetic. That is less than ideal.â
Malcolm took a cautious bite of his food, only a little bit afraid that it might be poisoned. âYouâre not always the bad guy! And this situation has no bad guy option! I didnât expect him to walk away dressed to take down the little prick who stole his bike with possibly lethal force!â
Malcolm returned a few hours later, by then the sun had completely set, engulfing Martin Luther King Boulevard in darkness aside from the spots of light from the street lamps.
Heâd accepted his fate, deciding heâd lived a long enough life. 52 wasnât that bad for someone in his field of work.
He walked up the front walkway of their mansion, the glow of life inside the house gave it a false sense of comfort.
It'll at least be warm when he decides to stop dragging his feet. The heat's on, there's something in the kitchen waiting for him, and not just his annoyed wife.
Sheila is also ready to go through some of her son's candy. For safety? For her own stash? She'll never tell.
He took a deep breath. Just got to rip the band aid off, Malcolm. Youâre the Mighty Fucking Monarch, you can handle your wife being pissed off.
He turned the door knob and entered the vestibule. He took off his coat, hat and shoes, putting them in their correct places. And he checked himself in the mirror.
Just unleash the old Monarch charm, itâll be fine. Itâs not like he meant to go against the agreement they had regarding Bugâs involvement in the whole good guy vs bad guy game. He technically was just getting his son a nice costume for Halloween and it accidentally turned into his first costume for a lil bit more than that.
âSweetness, Iâm home!â Malcolm called out before making his way to the kitchen.
Apparently that was going to be the location for his assassination, as he came face to face with Sheila.
He sat at the island counter in front of the plate of food waiting for him. âI want you to know, before you commit mariticide, that Bug has no idea about the Blue Morpho being more than a character in those stupid old Team Venture comics.â
Oh, this wasnât good.
Theyâd been together about 25 years at this point. Malcolm was very well acquainted with the technique that involved her giving him affection before going in for the kill.
It always ended in a bad time.
His Adamâs apple bobbed a bit as he gulped. âI always am.â He tried to keep his voice level.
From where Bug stood it just looked like his parents being gross again. âDad, câmon!â He whined.
âI better take him.â Malcolm tried to put on a good face for Bug, giving Sheila a peck before going to lead their tween out on his candy quest.
In his head, he was wondering how recent his will was.
He knows her better than himself. Inside and out, the very shape of her soul-- he's the true last love of her life, the other being their son, and the third, the other little caterpillar to be.
Malcolm knows he's in for it. She knows he's in for it-- she just has to formulate what she wants to say, and not completely blow up.
They have to do what's best for their boy, even if she doesn't like it.
At least the pictures will look adorable.
Malcolm returned a few hours later, by then the sun had completely set, engulfing Martin Luther King Boulevard in darkness aside from the spots of light from the street lamps.
Heâd accepted his fate, deciding heâd lived a long enough life. 52 wasnât that bad for someone in his field of work.
He walked up the front walkway of their mansion, the glow of life inside the house gave it a false sense of comfort.
âEnzo made my dadâs! I told him that this was all for show, he didnât even charge me for most of that!â Malcolm was immediately taking the defensive.
Hurry up, Bug, before your mother draws and quarters me!
âItâs not liking Iâm going toââ He was cut off by Bug, Spiderman pillow case in hand, bouncing on his toes in excitement.
âDad! Letâs go! I wanna have a good selection for the swap at Lukeâs!â
Bug was supposed to end his night at his best friendâs, a kid with asthma that was a stereotypical nerd, where there was going to be a slumber party with a couple other boys.
As soon as Bug brought up board games that were overly complicated, heâd tuned out but Malcolm had gathered that they would be trading candy before itâd gotten to that point.
Malcolm had thought tonight would, perhaps, be a nice little break for him and Sheila before they started this whole kid cycle all over again but he highly doubted that now.
âHoney, can you please lecture me after I get back?â
Despite how abnormal their lives are, Sheila's pretty grateful Bug has relatively normal little friends. Normal PTA meetings and all that abound. Also despite any....rivalries his father may or may have with the ladies.
Her man is going to get it. Humming, she reaches out to smooth down any wrinkles on his shirt.
"Be careful out there. Don't eat too much candy yourself."
Oh, this wasnât good.
Theyâd been together about 25 years at this point. Malcolm was very well acquainted with the technique that involved her giving him affection before going in for the kill.
It always ended in a bad time.
His Adamâs apple bobbed a bit as he gulped. âI always am.â He tried to keep his voice level.
From where Bug stood it just looked like his parents being gross again. âDad, câmon!â He whined.
âI better take him.â Malcolm tried to put on a good face for Bug, giving Sheila a peck before going to lead their tween out on his candy quest.
In his head, he was wondering how recent his will was.