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oblivious-embodied · 4 years ago

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A Miraculous Journey of Self Discovery

Miraculous Tales of Ladybug and Chat Noir: Rewritten, Trans AU.

A long time ago, I decided to make my own rewrite of the Miraculous Ladybug show, do it in my own way so that things could progress the way I would like, for characters to grow and develop in personality and strength. Write my own way for the miraculous to be empowered, to be a bigger deal, to mean more than what they mean in the show. And, along the way, I saw @wintertundra-art's Trans Adrien and Marinette AU, and I wanted to see if I could incorporate that into this rewrite. And, with her permission and cooperation, I was able to get the first chapter, Origins: Part One completed! I'm excited to see where this goes from here!

So, as a christmas gift to you all, Enjoy a miraculous rewrite, and trans representation! If you haven't already, go check out @wintertundra-art and her wonderful AU! And, if you have any questions, feel free to send me an ask too.

I’ve decided to rate it as Teen and Up Audiences, and you can read it here on AO3! It currently sits at 12,265 words

Origins: Part One

(Summary: Eons ago, powerful artifacts were forged, infused with power that humans can only dream of, they were made to be anchors to beings of immense power. Centuries ago, two of the more powerful miraculous were lost, the Butterfly of Emotion and the Peacock of Soul. Now, the Butterfly has been awoken, and is in the hands of someone who want's to corrupt the Butterfly's power and use it for their own nefarious wants. The only way to stop this from happening is to bring balance, and only the most powerful Miraculous can do so: The Black Cat of Destruction, and the Ladybug of Creation. )

A man opens up a broach, revealing the smiling image of a blonde haired, green eyed woman. His breath hitches just a bit as he locks eyes with her image. With slightly shaking hands, he closes the broach and he looks to a floating, violet creature with big, purple eyes, and a swirl on its head that is the same shade as its eyes. Little butterfly wings extend from its back.

“Nooroo,” his tone is sharp, cold, calculating. Terrifying. “Tell me where to find the other Miraculous.”

“I-I do not know...” the being named Nooroo answers, bowing its head slightly.

The man narrows his eyes.

Several thousand years ago, possibly eons ago, powerful pieces of magical jewelry were forged, each serving as an anchor to beings of extreme power. Beings that are the embodiment of concepts that the minds of simple humans can’t even begin to comprehend, concepts like The Four Elements, The Mind, The Heart, The Soul, The Body, Energy, and even of Destruction and Creation itself.

These jewels were named ‘Miraculous’. They can’t be destroyed; whether that is due to the material they are made from, or the bonds they have with the beings, known as kwami, no one knows.

These Miraculous were created for the sole purpose of aiding the human race. And with their use, myths and legends of large, humanoid creatures, capable of unfathomable feats of strength and power arose.

And according to legend, whoever holds both of the two most powerful Miraculous, the anchors to the beings of Destruction and Creation, Death and Life, will be as powerful as a god.

And with that power, the ability to do whatever they want.

And he must have these Miraculous. He must have the power to become God.

His life, his happiness, all he’s worked for, all he’s done, the fate of his family, it all depends on him getting those Miraculous.

“Very well.” He says finally, but he turns his cold gaze to the poor being. “Tell me, Nooroo, what are the properties of your Miraculous.”

The being named Nooroo looks up at this man, its eyes weary. “That is the Miraculous of the Butterfly. It derives its power from the heart; it will allow you to sense the emotions of anyone around you in a certain radius, and through this you will be able to give others powers and abilities. These people will then become your devoted followers, your champions.” Nooroo straightens back up, puffing out its little chest.

A sickening smile creeps its way across the man’s face. “You are saying, Nooroo, that I can give supernatural powers to the ordinary; and they will, in turn, do anything I tell them to do.” It isn’t a question. It’s a statement. His mind is already circulating with different situations. At this, Nooroo deflates a bit, drooping.

“W-well, no, not really. You can give powers to someone you deem fit, but you can’t really control them. They’ll just be able to communicate with you, and vice versa, and you will be able to help them along the way.”

The smile does not leave the man’s face, “You said your powers are derived from the heart, yes?” Nooroo nods, it’s eyes widening. “I may not be able to control them directly... but I can to some degree.”

At this, Nooroo’s eyes fly open, his mouth dropping open. “Th-that’s-that’s not what the butterfly is intended-“

“I will do what I want!” The man cuts in, his tone forceful, he emphasizes his words with a stomp to the ground. “I am your master. You will do what I say, and you will not disobey me.” Nooroo’s eyes blow wide again, and it opens its mouth to say something, but nothing comes out of its mouth. It is unable to say anything. In it’s eyes, terror is clear. Dejectedly, Nooroo bows it’s head and body. “Yes, Master.”

This brings the man even more sickening joy.

“Nooroo, we will find those Miraculous.” Then man takes a step forward and lifts Nooroo’s chin up. “And we will do it by any means necessary.”

He takes a step back and fastens the broach to his shirt.

“Nooroo, dark wings, rise.”

Nooroo is sucked into the broach and violet light rushes up the man’s body, transforming his clothes. When the light dies down, the man is wearing black, skin tight, laceless dress shoes. Purple, almost skintight pants. He’s wearing a purple suit jacket and black latex-like gloves. The collar folds up at the front like a paper airplane, the broach sitting in the middle, two black, shimmering, almost rubber like lapels that start just below the paper airplane collar, form around it and go up to protrude from off the shoulders about 25 centimeters. His neck and face, save for the area around his mouth, is covered by a silver material. His eyes are violet.

“From now on...” he looks at the big metal, circular window cover, his violet eyes glistening with malice. “I will be known as Hawkmoth!”

--------

Sleeping in the brass horn of the fake record player that houses the miracle box is a small green creature, with a head much larger than the rest of his body, who looks like a miniature turtle. His body is a light-ish green, with patches of darker green. His head has some subtle scales, but is mostly smooth. Its abdomen, and the back of his arms and legs are covered in dark green scales. A turtle shell rests on his back.

Something startles Wayzz from his peaceful sleep in the fake record player’s bell, his eyes shooting open and revealing that they are completely yellow with dark green pupils. Something pulsates through the air, a powerful, corruptive wave of energy with a hint of something else behind it.

It’s... an old, familiar energy. It pulsates through the air again before dissipating slightly, then pulsating again. Like a heartbeat.

One that doesn’t bode well.

This energy... it’s from Nooroo... but... it’s tainted. It might just be from time apart, that could be why his energy feels... wrong.

Malicious. Cold.

Unwelcome...

But... it could also be something else... something far more terrible than someone accidentally picking up and activating It’s Miraculous.

It’s an energy that accompanies An unwelcome wielder. It’s Nooroo’s distress call.

Wayzz bursts from the fake record player’s bell and into Master Fu’s side, jolting him, stilling his fingers on his patient’s back.

The little old man, wearing a red Hawaiian t-shirt, grey slacks and brown sandals, turns to the little green kwami.

“What is it?” He whispers, his fingers returning to work at the young man’s back.

“Master! I felt an odd energy.”

Master Fu pauses in his work again, furrowing his brows in thought. After another second’s deliberation, he tells Wayzz to hide, then quickly ushers his patient out the door, promising to see him next week.

With the door closed, he turns back to his kwami. “What kind of energy?” His tone is solemn and wary.

“Master, it was Noroo’s. It was Nooroo’s distress call. It’s in trouble!”

The old master’s eyes widen in shock, his mouth hanging open for a second before he sets it into a hard line. “Very well then, Wayzz. We must find him at once!”

Wayzz winces for a split second, human’s have never understood how one can be referred to by pronouns other than he/him, or she/her, and the Master doesn’t seem to catch on to Wayzz calling Nooroo by It’s preferred pronouns. But Wayzz refuses to not use It’s preferred pronouns. He would never do that to his friend.

The old master stands up straight, holding up his right wrist, his other hand bracing it. “Time to transform... Wayzz-“

‘Crack!’

��Augh, oh...” Master Fu groans as he falls to the ground, muted groans escaping his throat.

“Master, please be reasonable! You are-“

“Still young!” Fu cuts in, “ I’m only 186!...” he grunts as he stands back up. “but I can no longer do this alone... we will need help.”

He walks over to the fake record player, and Wayzz looks away as Master Fu puts in the code to open up the record player.

Within seconds, the middle slides open, and a black box with red, ornate, ancient Chinese characters on it is lifted from the cavity in the record player.

Before he opens the box, he looks to Wayzz; the kwami has been with him for most of his life... they’ve been through a lot together. So, Wayzz is certain that they surely think the same thing.

Allowing those Miraculous to be out in the open, even if it is just to recover Nooroo from its captor, it’s incredibly risky. But... Wayzz has a certain feeling about this, it may be a risky move, but it feels like the right one. If they are to recover Nooroo, and if It’s had Its powers abused by a corrupted heart, they will need to cleanse and balance it’s Miraculous; and only those of Creation and Destruction can do so. As Fu takes out those two Miraculous, Wayzz nods his agreement. Hopefully... hopefully this doesn’t go wrong.

-----------

For the next few days, Fu looks for two people who fit the parameters for these two Miraculous. They need to be kind, and selfless... those two traits aren’t too hard to find. But for the Miraculous of Creation, he needs to find someone who has the mind to handle the complexity, the heart to consider the options, the soul to value everyone, the body to meet the physical requirements and the energy to withstand it all.

They need to be of the right age too, for if they are too young, their mind could snap, their heart could burst, their soul could be irreparably damaged, their body could shrivel… just like his did when he was a boy.

Finding someone who meets all these requirements is grueling, but it’s the only way to make sure they don’t face life long detriments.

Fu finds himself in a bakery, looking over everyone he can see as he simultaneously looks for what pastry to get for himself. The people he finds don’t fit what this Miraculous needs, and he gets no reaction from the box containing the being who embodies Creation itself. He is about to give up on his search for a suitable wielder for Tikki when a feeling of warmth pulsates through his body, emanating from the box Tikki’s Miraculous resides in.

He looks up, and is greeted with the sight of the baker’s daughter, a young girl with black hair, Asian features, and beautiful grey eyes. She talks animatedly with the customers, smiling so brightly and with such warmth in her eyes, she makes it seem like she makes friends with everyone she meets.

But she’s too young, she doesn’t look to be more that 14 years old, he will not put the stress of being the wielder of Creation on a child. His body was crippled when he wore his Miraculous when he was too young, and his Miraculous is substantially less powerful than Creation. He will not the the reason for the death of a child.

He moves on.

But Tikki is insistent, if the way the box burns in his pocket is any indication.

Reluctantly, he turns to his kwami companion, Wayzz, and nods to him, making a mental note to have Wayzz watch this girl. He can only hope that he finds someone better suited for Creation.

When out of the bakery, Wayzz whispers in his ear, “Are you sure giving a Miraculous — especially one of such magnitude — to a child is a good idea?”

Fu pulls out and bites into a pastry, his facial features dark. “I do not know, my friend. I refuse to give a Miraculous to someone so young, especially one that is so powerful. However, Tikki is insisting on this girl. I hope to find someone who is suited for Tikki, and is older, but we must be prepared for the event that we have to give this girl this responsibility.”

Wayzz sighs, “Alright, Master.”

--------------

The next day, Fu makes his way to the bakery — those pastries are to die for! — but he’s in a sour mood. He hasn’t been able to get Tikki to react to any other person, she is insistent on this bakery girl. He’s keeping an eye out for someone else, but he’s starting to believe he has no other choice.

Just as he rounds the corner, the box that houses the Black Cat Miraculous of Destruction sends a chilling wave of energy through Fu’s body, and he stops in his tracks. Plagg has sensed someone he wants to choose. Fu starts looking around, going through all the parameters the wielder of Destruction needs to have: They need to have a mind strong enough to resist temptation, a heart kind enough to give mercy to those around them, a soul to see the good and bad, a body to withstand the effects the Miraculous of Destruction has on wielders, and the ability to rein in Plagg’s energy.

Everyone he looks at is wrong, and they incite no reaction from Plagg, but then he sees a young man with blond hair, green eyes, and fair skin in the park. He’s sitting on a bench, looking crestfallen. To his right, cameras and photographers are setting up around him. There are other children playing at the park, and the young man is staring at them with a longing gaze.

The hope in Fu’s eyes dies down as he realizes that Plagg’s chosen is one that is, once again, too young,

He doesn’t want this, he doesn’t want to put them through this, but if Tikki won’t change her mind, Plagg most definitely wont.

Resigned, Fu turns around and starts going to the bakery, making a note to look into this boy. He looks up and finds himself looking at a poster advertisement for Agreste Fashion, and the boy he was just looking at is on it.

It seems finding information on this boy will not be as hard as he thought.

-------------

As he continues to watch the bakery girl, he sees just how kind and selfless she is. She routinely offers help in the bakery as often as she can. She lights up talking to customers about fashion — apparently, she’s quite fond of fashion, especially the Agreste brand, how fascinating — how she lifts full bags of flour with only a few grunts and wobbles here and there. Fu’s found that she created the design for the bakery sign. As well as the menu board. She is truly creative. And, if his hearing does not fail him, she even bakes some of the pastries from time to time.

Tikki grows more and more insistent on choosing this girl, and Fu has resigned himself to the fact that he will be putting them through things he never wished to put anyone through again. If he is going to give her the Miraculous of Creation, he must be there to mentor her. He must be able to guide her through all of this. Hopefully she can handle this and he isn’t sending her to her death.

Now... the young man, the child model... he wasn’t quite sure at first, and he was getting ready to have a long argument with Plagg. He just seemed to be a boy longing for the time to play with others. But, as he continued to pursue knowledge about this boy -- his name being Adrien -- he’s found that he is praised for his kindness, and he’s seen that in video recordings of interviews with the boy. Wayzz has told him that when he has photoshoots at the park, when he sees kids fall down, he twitches almost imperceptibly. As though he wants to go over and pick them up. And when he watches parents with their difficult kids, he seems to want nothing more than to help.

Fu has seen the way he smiles at his bodyguard, at his scheduler, the photographers, the other models, it seems to be completely genuine.

He harbors a heart that wants to do good, that wants to do nothing but help, his soul longs for the freedom to be selfless, but it is unable to. And Plagg has latched onto this boy.

He must be able to guide these two young people. He must not allow them to go through this alone.

Late at night in his apartment, Fu sits before two small pieces of paper on his kitchen table, writing two identical notes to put in the boxes containing the Black Cat Miraculous and the Ladybug Miraculous.

They are to meet him at the base of the Effiel Tower at 22:00, but in order for this to work, he must give them the miraculous at the same time, which means he must execute his challenges before it is too late.

Suddenly, Wayzz flies up to his face and bows before speaking. “Master! I just sensed Nooroo transform Its captor! It was powerful, whoever has Nooroo is powerful.”

Fu stops writing and strokes his goatee. If he remembers correctly, the first day of the French school year is in three, almost two days. This means that he doesn’t have much time to issue his challenges to these kids, and even less time to train them. He must act now. “Thank you, Wayzz, we must act soon, before it is too late!”

Fu finishes writing the notes and places them on top of the boxes containing the Miraculous of Destruction and Creation, before he goes to bed.

The next day, Fu makes his way to the bakery. He doesn’t know how to issue his challenge, but it will come to mind eventually. It is the day before the first day of school, and there will be no lack of heightened emotions, and paired with the power that Nooroo has over emotions, who knows when Nooroo’s captor will strike?

Suddenly, Adrien bursts through the bushes, sprinting his way to the school. He has a pleased smile on his face, and hope in his eyes. He reaches the school, and stops, looking up at it, sighing in admiration.

A car passes by, Adrien whips around, looking at the car, but finds that it is not something he needs to worry about. He relaxes and starts to open the door to the school when three kids burst from the nearby park and speed their way on bikes across the street toward a nearby intersection. He looks at these kids, furrowing his brows.

Then, a rumbling sounds, Adrien whips around to look, and there is a car coming down their way. And, by the looks of things, the car isn’t slowing down, and neither are the kids.

Fu waits in silence as Adrien seems more confused than ever, looking between the car and the kids, taking a few steps from the school toward the intersection. When it is evident that neither the kids nor the car will stop on their own, he takes action, rushing forward and waving his arms.

Two of the kids look at him, then at the car coming down the road, and as though it is their first time seeing it, they skid to a stop. But the kid in the middle, a girl with pink hair keeps going, her head turned toward the two kids who stopped, hair whipping around under her helmet. She seems to glare at them and then at the oncoming car.

Adrien seems to sigh, looking frantically between the rapidly approaching kid and car.

He looks back to the pink haired girl, and sets his jaw. Clearly set on a course of action. He takes a few long steps toward the street just as she comes by and grabs her arm, forcing her to fall from her bike, but the bike continues onward into the street.

Where it promptly gets crushed by the car, while the driver looks up from their phone and honks as they drive away.

As the pink haired girl sits there shocked, Adrien stands there awkwardly. But, after a second, the girl stands up and punches Adrien’s arm before seemingly telling him off. All Adrien does is furrow his brows, confused.

Fu walks away with a small smile.

He has a feeling this might actually work out well.

--------------

An alarm jerks Marinette awake from her dreamless sleep. With a groan, she blindly gropes around her bed to find her phone, but when she finds it, she only manages to push it from her bed down onto the floor.

The alarm doesn’t stop, and Marinette can’t decide if she should be relieved, or annoyed.

With a resigned sigh, she slips from her bed, mourning the lost warmth of her covers, and climbs down her ladder. She picks up her phone and inspects it for cracks.

Somehow, for some reason, it doesn’t have any. Thank the beings that rule the universe, her phone is indestructible! She doesn’t know how many times she’s dropped her phone, but it doesn’t even have a scratch!

Sluggishly, she goes to her closet, trying to decide on what to wear, looking over everything and battling that feeling of unease she feels every time she looks in her closest; but ultimately decides to put it aside, she’ll just eat breakfast in her pajamas.

She doesn’t even want to look at her messy, black hair, her body, the bags that are surely to be under her eyes. She’s always loved her eyes, her Maman is from China and has grey eyes, while her Papa grew up locally in Paris with blue eyes; but her eyes are amazing, they’re grey with a ring of blue around the pupil. She can’t help but think of her parents when she looks into her eyes. She doesn’t have as much Asian features as she would like, but she has her eyes, her black hair, and a slight Asian facial bone structure.

Rubbing sleep from her eyes she starts going downstairs, not really wanting to face the day. Not wanting to fight to feel good.

It’s the first day of school. The first day of Collége. And, for some reason, Marinette has a strong feeling that Chloé Bourgeois is in her class again.

One would think that the spoiled brat that is the daughter of the Mayor would be in private school. But, for some reason unknown to all but the two Bourgeois and the beings that rule the universe, she still attends public school; despite all of her complaining. And the bullying.

She really, really does not want school to start.

With a big yawn, she opens the trap door.

“Marinette! School starts soon! You don’t want to be late for your first day back at school!”

Wincing from the early morning yelling, Marinette suppresses another yawn, calling out a small “Coming...” before climbing down the stairs.

When she reaches the bottom, she finds her Maman smiling at her from the kitchen. She smiles back, already feeling the grasp of sleep start to slip away. “There’s my beautiful girl!”

Despite the warmth that fills her being when around her Maman, Marinette can’t help but feel uneasy with being called beautiful. It’s probably because of Chloe bullying her, she’ll get over it.

She gives her maman a kiss on the cheek, leaning down just a bit. When she was younger, she wondered why she was taller than her maman. But, after an awkward talk with her parents, she’s realized that she just inherited the taller genes from her Papa, but got the skinnier genes from her Maman.

“Good morning!”

“Yeah...” she grumps, “I’ll bet you anything that Chloé is in my class again...” she sighs as she sits down at the kitchen table, where her Maman has already set out a cereal bowl, a milk jug, spoon, her favorite cereal, and a bowl of fruit. Uncapping the milk jug, she pours it into the bowl.

“Four years in a row?! Is that possible?” Her Maman exclaims, putting something in the sink behind her.

“Definitely... Lucky me!” Marinette rolls her eyes, pouring in some chocolate cereal flakes.

“Oh! Don’t say that! It’s the start of a new year, I’m sure everything will be just fine!” Her Maman says resolutely, brushing a hand against her hair. And who can argue with such sound logic? Not Marinette.

Nodding, feeling her spirits rise just a bit, she places the tub of cereal flakes down. But, with just a slight miscalculation of how hard to set it down, a chain reaction of terrible, ill boding events happens.

The vibrations send an orange rolling down a conveniently placed bread stick, right to and over another conveniently placed knife. Which then sends the orange into the milk jug, the knife into a bowl of sugar cubes; sending a few flying with such velocity that as it collides with the cereal tub, it tips it over. And, as her spirits plummet, the orange completes its journey by knocking into and tipping over a yogurt cup. She groans dejectedly, closing her eyes so as to block the situation from sight and in turn, her mind.

For a girl whose parents have always called their “lucky charm”, she sure isn’t all that lucky.

As she cleans up the cereal tub mess, her Maman reaches a hand to her cheek, chuckling. Which, somehow, helps to lift her own spirits.

It’s weird how mothers can do that. “Go get dressed, honey, you’ll look beautiful. I’ve got this.”

An hour later, Marinette is down in the bakery, dressed in her back-to-school-day clothes: tan/pink flats, pink Capris, white shirt with a flower pattern on her left collarbone, grey blazer and her very own, hand sewn, pink clutch. And yet, despite being proud of her work, she can’t find it in her to be proud of how she looks.

Her Papa, humming a tune, presents a box of macarons to his daughter. A warm, gentle smile on his face: “There’s my gorgeous daughter!” There’s that uneasiness again...

“Papa! These are so awesome!” She exclaims, bouncing in place. “Thank you, Papa! My class will love them!” She looks up to him, adoration and love filling her eyes.

“Glad you like them!” He ruffles her hair, chuckling as she smirks a bit under his huge hands, an almost mute “don’t mess up my hair!” coming from her.

“You look beautiful, my darling daughter” Her papa says with small tears in his eyes.

“You’re the best!” she says, giving him a one armed hug, her smile falling as she tries to figure out how to get rid of the uneasy feeling in her gut.

“We,” he pulls her close again with an arm, and angles his other in a ‘muscular, show-off’ manner, “are the best.” Marinette can’t help but giggle.

Giving both her parents goodbye kisses, she rushes out the door, intent on not being late for school on the first day. And, in her haste, almost rushes right into the path of an oncoming car.

Breathing a sigh of relief that she isn’t splattered on the windshield of a car, she slouches a bit, before jolting ramrod straight as she sees an elderly man with a cane in a red hawiian shirt having trouble crossing the road, another car rushing toward the man, not slowing down at all.

Marinette frantically looks back and forth between the two and decides, after a second, to rush out and save this man from meeting the very same fate she had just narrowly avoided moments before.

Just as she pulls him to the sidewalk, her legendary clumsiness takes hold of her once more, and she trips onto the sidewalk, taking the man down with her; the box of macarons spilling. And, with horror, she watches as inconsiderate city people step on them, reducing them to nothing more than crumbs. The man’s “Thank you, miss” goes unheard.

But, his “Oh, what a disaster” does not go unnoticed. Picking up what remains of the box and the macaroons, she tells him: “Don’t worry, I’m no stranger to disasters.” She holds the box to him. “Besides! There’s still a few left.”

She smiles at this man, as he picks a macaron from the box and bites into it. Letting out a pleased “Delicious!”

A bell across the street rings, signaling the start of school. Marinette looks to the school, to this man, back to the school and back to him again. While she’d rather not be late to school... well, she had just pulled this man from the street. The least she can do is walk him partially to where he is headed.

“Go ahead.” The man says, his smile genuine, understanding and proud. ”You’ve saved my life, the least I can do is save you from getting into trouble! Now go!” He waves her off.

She takes a moment of further deliberation before nodding, bowing, and rushing out “have-a-nice-day-sir!” Then she’s off, rushing to school.

----------------

As the young woman runs to the school, Master Fu straightens up, putting his cane behind his back and holding up the box containing the Ladybug Miraculous. The box warms up and spreads warmth all throughout his body, confirming that this young woman is Tikki’s choice to be her wielder.

While he doesn’t want to put this stress on a child, he knows that there is no other solution, no way around this. He just has to be her mentor.

He walks to the bakery, allowing Wayzz to take the box to the girl’s room while he buys pastries for himself and his companion.

-----------------

Just as the custodian is closing the school’s front doors, Marinette slips in, not breaking from her near sprint. Rushing up the stairs, she bursts into the classroom, stumbling to not lose her balance. She’s hunched over, trying to catch her breath.

“Nino,” the teacher calls out. She’s a tall woman with fire red hair, teal eyes, and a white pantsuit. Marinette doesn’t recognize her. The boy in question, Nino, has been in her classes for as long as she can remember. He’s a kind hearted, introverted kid with dark skin. He’s always wearing a red baseball cap and grey and orange headphones.

She looks up and sees that Nino is sitting with his eyes wide behind his glasses from the back of the classroom. “Why don’t you sit in the front this year?” The teacher may have formed it as a question, but it was more of a polite command.

Nino grumbles and stands up, his back and shoulders slouched. As he walks to the front of the classroom, on the side closest to the door, he groans. Before sliding into his position in the front of the classroom, right by the door. He pulls his headphones down and rests his elbows on the desk; his jaw resting on his knuckles with an annoyed look on his face.

Though she’s been in the same class as Nino for years, she doesn’t know much about him, and she’s really regretting that now. Maybe this year will be different?

She takes a moment to deliberate, but ultimately decides to sit on the row behind Nino, in her usual seat. She wants to sit by him but he doesn’t seem to want to talk to anyone.

Shaking her head, still breathing with slight difficulty, she walks to her usual seat, the second row, left side of the classroom, right next to the aisle. Just behind and over Nino’s right shoulder.

Mylène, a timid girl, sits directly across the aisle from where Marinette’s seat is. She’s a shorter girl, with fair skin and long dreadlocks that are blonde at the roots but fade into multiple colors at the ends.

Sitting on the next row up, just to the right of Mylène, is a dark skinned boy with a close cut afro hairstyle brown hair, a green polo and glasses. Max is your go-to kid for anything and everything that has to do with electronics.

Sitting right next to Max is a tan skinned boy, Kim; he’s wearing a red, short sleeved hoodie, and sweat bands on his wrist. His black hair is up in a faux hawk style and he’s lounging back in his chair. He’s the class jock. (He tries to hide it by being a jerk and a goof, but he’s actually a good guy.)

Kim is always next to Max, tells everyone that they’re best friends, and that he needs Max to help with homework, but Marinette knows better. She can see his eyes.

On the back row, sitting behind Max, is a girl named Rose. She’s a quiet girl, with her blonde hair in a pixie cut. She wears all pink and has an incredibly high voice.

Just as Marinette sits down and starts to unpack, a pale hand, with yellow, perfectly manicured nails slams down on the desk before her, startling her. “Marinette,” the almost shill voice starts, “Du-pain-Cheng” it sneers her last name like it's an insult to it personally. (Which, if this is who she think it is, it most likely is an insult to her personally.)

Chloé Bourgeois. The bratty daughter of the mayor. She’s wearing a yellow jacket, white pants, and a large, gold (not actually gold, it’d be too heavy for her skinny, fragile hips to support) plated belt. No wrinkles in sight on her clothes. Her golden locks are pulled into a high hanging ponytail. Blush, eye liner, magenta eyeshadow and pink lipstick on her face. It only serves to make her look that much more bratty.

Her school bully.

Marinette slouches, she knew it would happen. A weary, dejected, “Here we go again...” leaves her lips.

“That’s my seat.” Chloé brings her hand from the desk to her chest.

“But Chloé, this has always been my seat.” Marinette looks up to Chloé, grey-blue meeting dark, cruel blue.

Chloe’s face scrunches up. “Not this year!”

A sudden, but not unfamiliar voice cuts in. “New School, New Year, New seats.” Sabrina, Chloé’s lap dog slides into the desk beside Marinette, her orange/red hair in stark contrast with her teal-green eyes sparkling behind her glasses, and pale skin. She’s wearing a, quite frankly, ugly sweater vest.

“So,” Chloé sneers again, “why don’t you just go and sit beside that new girl over there.” She turns to point at a girl she hadn’t seen walk into the room.

She has darker skin like Nino, with long, curly, red-orange locks. She’s wearing a red-orange flannel short-sleeved shirt. At the mention of “New girl” she turns from her phone and her brown eyes glare behind glasses at Chloé.

“But..” is all Marinette can think of in response. (She’s tired, and already feeling exhausted, she doesn’t want to move or think.)

Chloé turns back to Marinette, her hands on her hips, her face contorted in anger. “Listen, Adrien is arriving today, and since that’s,” she points to the seat beside Nino, “ going to be he— his seat, this is going to be my seat.” Chloé slams her hand down in front of Marinette again, then she turns toward her fully, slamming her other hand on the desk. “Get it?”

Adrien... who is this Adrien? And why is he friends with Chloé?

“Uh, who’s Adrien?” She asks Chloé.

Two simultaneous gasps leave Chloé’s and Sabrina’s mouths. Then they burst out laughing in that ridiculous, annoying laugh, drawing Myléne’s attention.

The laughing stops abruptly and Chloé speaks again. “Can you believe she doesn’t know who Adrien is?” She directs this at Sabrina. Then, to Marinette, Chloé scrunches her face in disgust and anger. “What rock have you been living under?”

“He’s only a famous model!” Sabrina chimes in.

“And I am his best friend.” Chloé begins again.

Marinette raises her eyebrows at this. None of that helps clarify who Adrien is. And, if he’s a famous model, why would any sane teacher let a man who is probably in his early/mid 20’s come to class with 14-15 year olds?! Why is a man who is in his mid 20’s still in middle school?!

“He adores me.” Chloé looks to Marinette, and scoffs when she sees that Marinette has not moved from her seat. “Uh, go on, move!” She emphasizes this with a thumb pointing toward the proposed seats.

And all Marinette can think of is, is this Choe’s new scheme to get attention? Who would believe that a 20 something year old is hanging out with a 14 year old? They’d be all over the news.

Suddenly, the new girl is behind Chloé, her voice strong and brave. A fatal mistake when talking to Chloé Bourgeois. “Back off, Brat.”

Chloé turns to the girl, anger and annoyance taking the wheel. She leans toward the new girl, making sure her tone is mocking and sarcastic. “Ooh, look, Sabrina, we got a little do-gooder in our classroom!” Chloé leans in further. “What’re you going to do, Super Newbie, shoot beams at me with your glasses.”

Marinette cringes, this is why it is best to stay docile around Chloé, if she senses any opposition at all, she’ll only cause a scene.

“Wouldn’t you like to know.” The new girl sneers, her voice dark and dangerous. She pushes Chloé to the side and reaches for Marinette’s arm. “C’mon” she says as she grabs Marinette’s arm. Marinette barely has any time to grab her box of macarons and her bag before she’s being dragged from her seat.

In her haste to steady herself, grab her stuff, and the new girl’s quick pace, Marinette misses a step on the way to her new seat and ends up falling; her box of macarons falling to the floor, where several are flung from the box and are crushed on the floor. “Sorry, sorry, sorry.” She mumbles as she cleans up and slides into her new seat for the year. Chloé’s and Sabrina’s laughing etching its way into her memory.

“Chill-ax, girl, no biggie!” The new girl says, eyeing Marinette as she’s hunched over her almost empty box of macaroons.

“Alright, has everyone found a seat?” The teacher asks the class as other kids file in, leaning her hands on the desk. The class speaking up behind them drowning out her voice.

Marinette straightens up and looks to the new girl, “But I so wish I could handle Chloé the way you do.” The new girl raises an eyebrow, a corner of her lips quirking up. Not threatening, or suspicious, but curious and slightly confused. She reaches for her phone and unlocks it.

“You mean the way Majestia does it.” The new girl pulls up an image of a woman in a skin tight, blue suit, her shoulders, hands and face uncovered. She wears a fire truck red, sleeveless jacket with a ruffled coat tail, two thick, golden, zigzagging lines run across the bust, stars above the lines. Boots of the same shade reach to about her mid calf, the tops lined with the same type of lines as the jacket. “She says: All that is necessary for the triumph of Evil, is for Good to do nothing.” The new girl says proudly.

She leans past Marinette, wrapping her left arm around her shoulders and pointing to Chloé with her right hand. “And that girl over there, is evil, and we,” she points to herself and Marinette, “are the good people. She has a smirk on her lips. “We can’t let her get away with it!”

“That’s easier said than done...” Marinette hunches her shoulders a bit, her voice dejected. “She likes to make my life miserable.”

“That’s easy to fix, girl, you just need more confidence!” The new girl says, conviction strong in her voice.

Marinette smiles, and takes the last remaining macaron and breaks it in half, extending the other out to the new girl.

“Marinette.” she says.

“Alya,” the new girl says in response, taking the half macaron.

With this, they turn to the front, pleased smiles on their faces.

Maybe... maybe this year isn’t going to be so bad?

--------------------------

“For those of you who don’t yet know me,” the teacher says, drawing all attention her way, “I’m Ms. Bustier.”

As class starts, Chloé leans on her new desk, sadness in her face and eyes. Looking at the empty seat before her. “Ugh, he should have been here by now.” she says under her breath.

She meant to have annoyance in her tone, and she does, but she can’t hide the underlying disappointment.

Where is s— he?

-------------------------

Master Fu watches as Adrien rushes through the street, pressing against the bushes and trees, looking over his shoulder frequently, searching for something or someone.

Fu smiles, it seems like this young man has decided to try to get some freedom. But, if the frantic look in his eyes means anything, it’ll most likely be short lived.

The young man reaches the school grounds, and pauses next to a cologne ad poster that, coincidentally, has him on it. He looks over his shoulder again, and a smile finds his way into his face. He’s beaten the system, it would seem. For the time being.

This is Fu’s chance to issue his Challenge, to see if he has the ability to wield the Miraculous of Destruction. He has the potential, when faced with no other option, but this will test whether he will choose to help others and not himself. To do what he feels is right, and forfeit what he wants.

Just as Adrien reaches the steps, Fu launches his plan, clutching his back and falling to the ground, dropping his cane just out of his reach. Crying out in pain.

This causes the boy pause, and he stands on the steps of the school, frozen in place. Trying to figure out what to do, looking between Fu and the school’s front door.

Not a second later, he rushes to Fu, bringing his cane to his hands and helping him stand.

“Thank you, young man!” He says, patting his arm. Adrien’s eyes cringe and he tenses before his entire face lights up.

Huh, interesting...

“Do you need help getting to where you’re going?” He asks, his green eyes hopeful. No doubt wanting to help out more. If only so he could get further away from whoever he’s running from.

“No, I will be fine, but thank you for your kindness! Now, shoo, go to school!”

Adrien nods, the mention of school making his face light up even more.

He turns and rushes to the steps, and, just before he reaches the door, a silver sedan screeches to a stop, a tall woman clad in a purple suit and red blouse, her black hair fading to red on the left side. “Adrien, please reconsider! You know what your father wants!”

She walks slowly toward Adrien, as a large man steps out from the driver's seat, walking toward him with her. Adrien turns slowly toward them, his feet frozen in place, fear in his eyes. But only for a brief moment.

“But this is what I want!” He says, the fear taking a back seat to hurt and anger. “I’m sick of being stuck at home. I want to be like a normal kid!”

The woman shakes her head. “Adrien, you are not a normal kid, your father can’t afford to have you at public school!”

Adrien scoffs, “We both know he has more than enough money to afford it.”

“That’s not what I mean, Adrien. You know he only does this to keep you safe. He’s doing this for you.”

At this, Adrien’s eyes soften, his posture drooping. “I know... I just... I want to be around others. Please don’t tell Father about this.”

The woman’s eyes soften as she puts a hand on Adrien’s shoulder. “I know, and I’m sorry. But you just can’t. Come, let’s go home.”

As Adrien is led to the sedan, and is driven off back home, the second box pulsates in Fu’s pocket.

This boy has the traits that are required for the use of this Miraculous, but he does not have the right life for it. Fu is unsure whether Adrien can handle it. Plagg seems set on this boy, however. And, if Adrien is going to learn and grow, there is only one other Miraculous that will do just as good a job, and he’s already found a match for Creation.

He’ll just have to watch out for Plagg. With that, Fu swings his cane onto his shoulder and walks away whistling, following the sedan.

-------------------------

“Those of you who have P.E., Mr. D’Argencourt is expecting you at the stadium.” Ms. Bustier calls to the class as the bell rings and everyone packs up.

As the kid named Ivan, A large, fair skinned boy, with short brown hair save for the small tuft of blond in the front, gets up Kim gives him a note.

“The rest of you can head over to the library.”

A moment later, Ivan bursts out with an angry cry of “Kim!” He lurches toward Kim, an impish smirk on the lankier boy’s face. Ivan is cranking his fist back to slam it into Kim’s fragile face.

“Ivan! What are you doing?!” Ms. Bustier exclaims, leaning over her desk in shock. Ivan looks to her in confusion, lowering his fist.

“It’s Kim!” Ivan looks back at Kim, raising his fist again, and, for the first time, Kim is shocked and scared. “I’m so gonna—“

“Ivan! Go to the principal’s office!” Ms. Bustier cuts in, pointing out the door.

At that, Ivan steps away from Kim, growling as he looks back down at the note Kim passed him. With anger rolling off him, Ivan crumples the note in his hand and storms out of the classroom, muttering to himself; leaving Kim to shake in his seat, and Ms. Bustier to wonder if she could have worked the situation out better.

----------------------

The man known as Hawkmoth stands in a large room, a metal, circular window cover sliding open, letting light pour into the room, sending pure white butterflies fluttering about.

“Such powerful emotions. Anger. Frustration. Betrayal. And in a school no less, a perfect catalyst to test my limits.” He reaches for a butterfly, and clasps his hands around it. A second later, dark, purple energy seeps into the butterfly, and when he releases the butterfly, it is black with purple cracking apart the black, a violet mask-like pattern on it’s head and back, its legs a dark purple. “Burn a hole into his heart, little akuma, transform his anger into something more!”

The transformed butterfly, now an akuma, flies through the air, tracking down the boy with such anger and frustration with supernatural speed.

---------------------

Ivan opens the door to the principal’s office, but before he can take a step inside, the principal stops him.

“Excuse me, young man! Hasn’t anyone taught you to knock?” The principle, a large, overweight, white man with a receding hairline and greying hair exclaims. This shocks Ivan, his anger and frustration building. “Go on, go again.” He says, leaning back in his decked out, rolling swivel chair.

With a shake of his head and a growl, Ivan closes the door and turns around, raising a fist to knock.

Before he can put his fist to the wood, something stops him. A sound. The sound of something wet twisting and crawling. And suddenly, in his mind, there is a man floating in a grey space, his voice echoing all around his head. The principal’s “Go on, knock!” is ignored.

The man before Ivan is wearing a dark purple suit, and it shines in a way cloth doesn’t, kind of like rubber. On his chest are two black wing like lapels, which just make whoever this guy is look weird. Covering his head is a grey mask, only his eyes, which are an unsettling violet, and mouth looking normal. He’s leaning on a cane.

“Stoneheart.” the man says Ivan’s confusion at the name going unacknowledged. “I am Hawkmoth, I am giving you the strength and unstoppable power to seek revenge on those who have wronged you. To prove to them that you do have what it takes. All I need you to do is cause mayhem. Destroy all that you can.”

The power to get back at Kim? To prove that he does have what it takes?

And all he needs to do is cause mayhem?

Who can deny such a thing?

“Okay, I’ll do it.” Ivan says, a dark look on his face.

The man smirks.

Black and purple bubbles ripple over Ivan’s body, morphing his skin and bones.

When the bubbles disperse, Ivan is no more. Only Stoneheart remains. Standing at 2 meters tall, with cracked stone for skin and yellow eyes. He’s built like an athlete, and literally chiseled. Wrapped around his right hand is a purple fabric, like that a boxer would wear under their boxing glove. On his chest, the stone is jagged and protruding, right where his heart would be, like his heart had exploded. The cracks in the stone glow a faint yellow.

“Well?” The principal asks, waiting for a response.

Suddenly, the door is flung from its hinges, the principal only has enough time to move enough so that the door doesn’t slam into his head, but it still collides with his shoulder, sending him to the ground.

With an almighty roar, Stoneheart launches through the window, leaving an echo of “KIM!” behind as the entire wall crumbles to the street below.

-----------------------

In the library, a thunderous roar rattles the walls, then the whole building shakes, causing students to tumble to the ground.

After a few seconds, Alya, Marinette’s new friend, grabs her from the ground and drags her to the TVs in the library, which are showing the security footage.

A large, probably 2 meters tall, stone golem is walking down the street, the cracks in it’s stone skin glowing bright yellow. It roars in a voice so raspy and stiff, she wonders if it has vocal chords, and if so, how they’re working.

“Wh-what’s going on? I thought it was an earthquake!” a random kid exclaims.

Alya turns to Marinette, her hands on her cheeks. “It’s a real life super villain!” Suddenly, Alya’s eyes glint and she pulls out her phone. “Battery, 80%, check! GPS, check! I am so outta here!” Then she’s off, leaving Marinette to marvel at her.

“Wait! Hey, where’re you going?”

Alya pauses only briefly before turning around and hopping backwards “Where there’s a super villain, there is always a superhero!” Then she’s through the doors.

This is such a weird day...

Marinette looks back to the tv and jumps as the rock monster collides a car, the car crumbling and shattering. The yellow in the cracks of it’s skin glows brighter and- and she could have sworn it grew! It picks up what remains of the car with ease, and throws it at the school camera, and it goes to static. The building shakes again as crumbling brick and groaning metal reverberates through the school.

---------------------

Fu stops just outside the gates of a mansion. His eyes glinting with wonder and awe.

This should provide good living conditions for a being with such a high cost diet.

He hums in delight, letting Wayzz take the pulsating box up into the mansion.

-------------------

Adrienne *hates* homeschooling. She’s alone, save for Nathalie, and has to stay in one place for at least 7 hours, sometimes more, depending on the lesson. And, most of the time, she’s in the dining hall, the cold, undecorated dining hall. She’s stuck hearing her father, Nathalie, the mansion staff, call her ”Adrien”. Call her a boy. She can’t talk to anyone, can’t have a break. It’s useless.

“Who was the 1st president of the 5th French republic?” Nathalie walks up and down the length of the dining table. A tablet and pen in hand.

And all Adrienne can do is lean against her hand, not even able to summon more than a bored, monotone voice. “Everyone thinks it was De Gaulle but it was actually René Coty before the first elections.”

“Excellent, Adrien!” Nathalie exclaims. Turning around, a… pleased look on her face? ‘When did that happen?!’ Adrienne can’t help but think in shock. She opens her mouth to say something but a cold voice cuts through the room.

“Give me a minute would you, Nathalie?” Adrienne immediately tenses. It’s an involuntary reaction she has no control over. Not anymore.

Her Father turns to look at Adrienne, his eyes cold, disappointed, disproving. Angry. But his face remains stoic. “You are not going to school. I have already told you.”

Adrienne’s heart sinks. She looks to Nathalie, her eyes burning. She betrayed her. She- she does know what happens when she disobeys her Father, right?

Nathalie only lowers her head in shame.

Adrienne looks back to her father. “But, Father-“

“Everything you need is right here, where I can keep an eye on you.” He cuts in, tone dark and dangerous. “I will not have you outside in that dangerous world.”

“It’s not dangerous!” Adrienne tries, standing up from her seat, hands on the table. “I’m always stuck here by myself! Why can’t I go out and make friends just like everybody else?” She asks, pointing out the grand window to her left.

“Because you are not everybody else! You are My son” Adrienne flinches, her body flinching as her gut falls. She hates it when he sounds like that, it makes her feel so small. She has to bite her tongue to keep herself from shaking at her father’s deep, angry voice. He’s using the tone that suggests that he will not allow for any more words to be said.

Adrienne stands up straight, bowing her head, holding back tears that threaten to form.

Always her... it’s always Adrienne who makes things difficult. Who makes Father angry. All Adrienne does is antagonize him.

With that, Gabriel leaves, and Nathalie steps forward. “We can leave it there if you wan-“

Before she even finishes, Adrienne takes off running, hiding her— his face. Hiding his reddening eyes.

As he runs to his room, he catches a brief glimpse of a painting of him, his father and his mother.

But he can’t look at it for so long. It brings back too many bad memories.

Once in his room, he lays down on his bed, Letting his pillow soak in all the tears leaking from his— her eyes. From her eyes.

Why is Father like this? The thought bounces around in Adrienne’s head, it makes her dizzy. Why am I like this, if I’m really- if I’m really a girl, I wouldn’t revert to using those pronouns, to using “Adrien” when I’m stressed, would I? I wouldn’t do that when I anger Father, would I? How the hell am I a girl-

He doesn’t understand, Adrienne’s mother’s voice cuts through her spiraling thoughts. He probably never will. Your father is a stubborn man, and closed off in many ways. Just remember who you are, and that I’m here for you, my beautiful daughter.

This only makes Adrienne sadder. She isn’t here anymore. How can Adrienne keep going if she isn’t here?

Suddenly, something shakes the mansion, sounding like a stampede.

Curiosity takes over, and Adrienne takes off to go find out what’s happening.

She opens the front doors of the mansion, and a large (probably 4 meters tall) rock person is stomping its way toward a police blockade.

When the monster is within 10 meters, the police officer standing on top of a police car yells: “F-ire!” His voice cracks with fear and all the surrounding police officers fire off their guns.

The rock monster holds up it’s arms, but instead of the bullets doing any harm, they make the cracks in between the monster’s skin glow brighter, and it grows to be 2 meters taller! The police officer that was on the car scrambles down and tries to get away, but the monster grabs the car the officer was previously standing on with one hand, shouts out an unintelligible word, then throws the car with ease at the police officer; who only just barely manages to get out of the way.

Whatever this thing is, they sure are very, very angry.

Adrienne sprints back to her room, and vaults over her sofa, turning on the TV to the news.

“I’m asking all Parisians to stay inside until the situation’s under control.” Mayor Bourgeois says into the microphone, and Adrienne lets out a snort. Having everyone stay inside is the right call, don’t want anyone getting in the way... but, the man would be more than happy if he were the only one that stayed inside. And with the way that the situation is being handled, it isn’t going to be solved any time soon.

Then it switches to the TVi news station, where Nadja Chamack reports. “As incredible as it seems, it has been confirmed that Paris is, indeed, being attacked by a monster. The police have been struggling to get the situation under control.” Up in the right corner, a camera still reports what the monster is doing. Which, by the looks of it, is picking up cars and throwing them at buildings, trees, and other cars, destroying buildings and otherwise just causing mayhem, carnage and... and death.

It switches to another news camera, and it shows the police officer that was on the car in front of the gates, he’s getting his arm bandaged by a firefighter, speaking to an interviewer. “Be confident! The strong arm of-“ he cuts himself off as a painful crack is heard from the officer’s broken arm, his face contorting in pain. The firefighter then eases the arm down, and admonishes him for using his broken arm. “I meant to use the other arm...” the officer mumbles.

Blinking and shaking her head, Adrienne looks away, trying not to be too ashamed of Paris’s police force. From the looks of things, this monster is absorbing kinetic energy and using it to grow stronger.

Then, out of the corner of her eye, something catches her attention.

It’s a small box, with Chinese characters she doesn’t recognize on it.

She diverts her full attention to this box, a confused: “What’s this doing here?” Leaving her lips.

She picks it up, weighing it in her hand, moving it around and shaking it. It makes no noise. Shrugging, she opens it and finds a folded piece of paper. When she picks up the paper, she catches sight of a black ring, the corners of the face have silver raised points.

Suddenly, a bright green light glints off the ring, and a ball of green light bursts from it, temporarily blinding her, making her drop the paper, and box.

When her vision returns, there is a small, black being laying down in the air. It has a body covered with smooth, black fur, with a slight green sheen to it. It has a puff of fur on both cheeks, with two long, black whiskers poking out of each puff. There are similar tufts of hair on the bendy points of its limbs and back where the limbs connect to it. It has an aura that surrounds it that makes everything seem darker around it. Light seems to bend around it, like a black hole. It has two long, thin, puffy tails. It has two little ears that are currently drooped lazily, and little wisps of hair poke out from the inside. It has a tiny nose and snout. It... looks like a small deformed cat. And is absolutely adorable!

Suddenly, it uprights itself, stretching its arms and legs, little claws extending from it’s limbs, and releases a huge yawn. Upon closer inspection, each limb ends with a little paw. Its mouth reveals tiny, tiny fangs and an emerald green hue on the inside of its mouth. It’s ears perk up. Once it’s done with the yawn, the ears drop down again, and it opens its eyes to reveal two neon green eyes with black, slitted pupils.

“No way!” Adrienne exclaims. “This is so cool! You’re like the genie in the lamp!” She reaches a finger up to rub the little cat-genie’s forehead.

The little cat-genie launches back. It’s eyes going wide, with…. fear? But the cat-genie quickly schools its adorable little face into calm, uninterested, unimpressed neutrality.

“I met him once, so he grants wishes, big deal, I can do so much better and I'm personable!” The cat-genie crosses its nubs over its chest, claws extending slightly, spreading its leg nubs, like it’s pouting. Clearly trying to look intimidating, but Adrienne can see that it’s trying to gauge her reactions.

Huh, so the cat-genie speaks... it... it’s awfully squeaky and nasal.

It looks up to Adrienne, its eyes piercing into her soul. “Plagg, nice to meet ya.”

With the one sided greetings out of the way, The cat-genie known as Plagg zooms into a swirl before zipping off to explore the room, startling Adrienne some.

It lands on the foosball table, “Ooo, swanky!” Then it chomps down on a figure’s head, ignoring Adrienne’s “Don’t touch that!” by saying “Nope, not eatable.”

Just as Adrienne is about to grab Plagg, it takes off again, Adrienne’s ”Hey! Get back here!” going unnoticed as it locks eyes on an arcade’s joystick. “It’s so shiny!” Plagg lands on the joystick, uttering a curious “Can you eat this?” Before clamping its mouth down on the joystick ball.

Plagg turns away from it in disgust as it finds that it cannot, in fact, eat the joystick. “No, you can’t.” It says slightly dejectedly, then locks into something else and zooms away from Adrienne’s hand, leaving behind an excited “Ooh, what about this?”

----------------------------------

Marinette hates back to school days. She makes sure to tell her computer screen just that as she watches the news.

At the moment, Sabrina’s father is talking to a news reporter, having his arm wrapped up by a firefighter. “Be confident! The strong arm of-“ he cuts himself off as a painful crack is heard from Officer Roger’s arm, his face contorting in pain. The firefighter then eases the arm down, and admonishes him for using his broken arm. “I meant to use the other arm...” he mumbles.

Marinette shakes her head. Officer Roger can be a... a special type of person sometimes.

She glances down to her mouse to click away from the news station, but finds a black box with Chinese characters she doesn’t recognize.

Picking it up, she opens it, and finds a folded up paper. When she removes it, she catches a glance of two red earrings with black spots on each stud before a bright red/pink light glints off of them and she is temporarily blinded.

When it fades, Marinette’s jaw drops. So does the box and paper.

Floating before her, with its head bowed, is a giant scarlet/pink, ladybug-like bug, with a head much larger than the rest of its body. It has two antennae coming from its forehead and droop toward its back. It has a large black dot on its forehead. On its back is a scarlet ladybug shell, with five small black spots. From this shell are some pink, translucent wings that aren’t moving. The light around it seems to be…. brighter. Its limbs are little, sectioned, black nubs.

Suddenly its head shoots up, the light glinting off it’s large white eyes that have rings of blue in the center.

“Haaweeelllp!” The word leaves her mouth in a shriek as she jumps back, tipping over her chair, getting as far away from this- this- this giant bug! “It’s a giant bug!...”

The bug, no not a bug, a mouse… “A mouse!”

No, a-a bug-mouse, “Bug-mouse!”

it slowly floats its way toward her.

It continues to get closer.

“A- an alien!” She almost shrieks.

“Everything’s okay! Don’t be scared!” Its voice is high pitched, super high pitched, and slightly squeaky.

Marinette’s terrified, she does the only sensible thing. She grabs something behind her and chucks it at the bug-mouse-alien, eyes going wide, and it dodges her projectile. “Bug-mouse can talk! Bug-mouse talks!” She continues to throw things at the bug-mouse-alien, her terror only growing as it continues to dodge all of her projectiles.

“Listen, Marinette...” the bug-mouse-alien continues to speak. “I know everything is strange...”

As it talks and gets closer, Marinette can’t help but release terrified squeaks and whimpers as she gropes around for something to trap the bug-mouse thing under.

Suddenly, her fingers find a cup, and delight shoots through her as she lunges at the bug-mouse, slamming the glass cup down around the little —giant?— thing. She absently wonders why the glass didn’t shatter.

It looks up at Marinette, its expression and eyes calm. “Okay, If this makes you feel safer.”

It has no qualms about being stuck?! What can this thing do that makes it so that it isn’t scared of being trapped under something?!

Marinette keeps the glass firmly on the ground. “What are you? How do you know my name?” She asks.

“I’m a kwami,” the bug-mouse puts a nub on its chest. “And my name is Tikki!” it perks up as it says it’s name. “Now, just let me explain.” Its voice is slightly muffled by the glass. It makes the bug -Tikki- sound even weirder.

“MAMAN, PAPA!” Marinette shouts, inching her way to her trap door.

“No, no, no!” Tikki tries to warn her, pressing against the glass, but Marinette still ignores it. She puts a hand on the trap door and Tikki calls out again. “No!” It tries again, pushing against the glass, but Marinette keeps ignoring it.

“MAMA-“

“Shhh, No!” Tikki cuts her off, phasing through the glass and floating in front of her face. “I’m your friend, Marinette, you can trust me.”

Marinette narrows her gaze,

“Marinette?” comes the worried voice of her Maman, and Tikki and Marinette stare at eachother in tense silence.

“...It’s nothing, Maman, sorry”

Marinette turns to Tikki, the talking bug-mouse-alien-- ahem, Kwami. “Explain.”

----------------------

In such a big room, filled with so much stuff, the kid doesn’t even have any food to eat! Plagg’s tried so many things. Still, nothing edible!

He could just use atrophy and siphon off some energy, but that requires effort, and he did not wake up from 250 years of being dormant only to have to do things as soon as he is activated!

Plagg is zipping around this human child’s room and finds a semi-promising rectangle. Hopefully this works!

He bites down, only for his fangs to meet hard, foul tasting material. Ugh, he should just Cataclysm this whole room...

He drops the remote, and raises a paw, but the human-child drops from the ceiling and wraps her feeble, insufficient, human fingers around his body, which does not make him release an embarrassing yelp. Nope, not at all. It’s funny, how the human thinks she can keep him in place with just her fingers wrapped around his body, which is made from the very essence of chaos, destruction, bad luck and most importantly, if he does say so himself, death!

...Eh, he’ll let the child have her victory.

“Listen, I still don’t know what you’re doing here.” The child says, her tone stern.

Ha! As if a human can intimidate him!

This is really getting old, he just wants sustenance! Even mushrooms will do! Birds and fish are better, but they taste weird. Cheese is preferable, and Camembert is exquisite.

“Look, I’m a kwami. Kwamis grant powers.” Plagg narrows his eyes at this, this uninformed child. “Basic gist of mine is Destruction. Got it?”

“Nuh-Uh.” The child shakes her head, her blonde locks swaying. The locks of hair that grab the light just right... that are probably super soft locks... Locks that would make for an amazing be—

Plagg shakes his head. No time to get distracted. He needs food.

“Good.”, He looks around before looking into the child’s eyes and not the attention grabbing hair that looks like such a great spot to sleep in. “Got anything to eat, I’m starving!”

The child narrows her eyes, staring at him. Plagg stares back, keeping his expression neutral.

“Father’s pranking me, right?” The child stands up, leaning her massive, disgustingly proportionate, head over him. Plagg looks away, he does not want to see up that nose, no matter how clean it is. It’s gross.

“Wait... that’s not possible, Father doesn’t have a sense of humor.”

Plagg pulls himself from the human’s surprisingly tight grasp, spreading his limbs out wide. No matter what he thinks of this rule, the last time he didn’t obey it, Tikki ignored him for 500 years and his wielder caused Vesuvius, all because Tikki’s wielder, by extension, also ignored him. “Your dad must never know I exist. Or anyone for that matter.”

Adrienne tilts her head. Furrowing her eyebrows. “Plagg, I’m pretty sure Father already knows other humans exist...”

Plagg raises his eyebrows. This kid might actually be fun to be around. “I meant no one else can know that I exist.”

“Oh, yeah, that makes more sense.”

“Anyway,” Plagg zips into the kids face. “Where. Is. The. Food?” The kid looks at him with the weirdest expression.

“I only get to eat at breakfast, lunch and dinner. No snacks.”

Plagg narrows his eyes. “That’s no way to live!”

“Well It’s how I live.”

Plagg drops his tone a bit. “It’s not a way that anyone should ever have to live.”

The kid’s eyes go wide

Plagg stares into her eyes, cocking his head. “Well, time to get this out of the way.” Plagg suddenly zips from in front of Adrienne, and into her bathroom. “I’m a kwami, and I can grant you the ability to destroy anything you touch!”

Plagg stops before a roll of paper, hanging above a , quite frankly disappointing, porcelain throne. He grabs and *nearly* lets out a delighted gasp. Such an amazing invention! He drops it to the ground before landing on it and it starts to unravel. FUN!

“All you need to do is put on the ring! To be able to do anything, you call out “Claws Out” and to activate your power, call out Cataclysm, you’ll be able to destroy anything you touch!” He explains as he runs around the room on this roll of super soft paper. (Well, actually the powers that he can grant are much more than a mere Catalclysm, but the kid isn’t ready for that yet. Plus, Tikki’d kill him if he were to tell her that.)

“I can do that?”

“Psssshhh, no, I can do that, I just allow you to be able to do that.”

“What do I say again?”

“Claws Out.”

“Claws out?”

The ring sucks Plagg in and he’s getting ready to meld with the kid. Create what she wants subconsciously. In a flash, he’s inside her mind and he’s ready to shape her body to the way it’s supposed to be, but stops. It would make her happy, but she isn‘t ready for anyone else to know yet, she’d have a break down. And, probably worse. So, he lets her mind create her suit in accordance to what she wants right now.

-----------------------

Looking in her mirror, Marinette puts on the earrings. “So, you’re saying, you can give me the power to…. create anything—“

“At random, you won't be able to choose it!”

“—and restore damage—“

“Only if you cast Lucky Charm! And it only restores damage dealt to people caused by a specific event that has happened recently.”

“Okay, so, you can transform me into a ladybug styled superhero, with increased physical and mental capabilities-“

“Mental only in the fact that you’ll be able to take in more information and take it in faster, other than that, it’s all you!”

“And I can create a random object by calling out Lucky Charm and restore damage dealt to living things caused by a specific event by calling out Miraculous Ladybug?”

“Yep!”

“And I can become this Ladybug by….”

“Calling out ‘Spots On” Tikki looks into Marinette’s eyes, he doesn’t know it yet, he hasn’t realized it yet.

Hopefully he will. She really doesn’t want Marinette to go through more of his life in unknown misery. Luckily, when the time comes, she can help!

“Spots On?”

“Wait I forgot—“

Melding with his mind, Tikki ignores the urge to shape Marinette’s body the way she knows he feels subconsciously like he should. He doesn’t know yet, and she doesn’t want to put that stress on him. But Sugar cookies she forgot to tell him about the ability to purify things! And that the way to take down this thing is to destroy the corrupted object, or that there is a corrupted object. Well, he’s her wielder, he’ll figure it out.

Technically Tikky can give her wielders so much more power, but this is the first time being her wielder, so she’ll have to ease Marinette into this.

[This is the image I used to base Nooroo’s, Tikki’s and Plagg’s designs on, I have also used it to alter Trixx’s, Wayzz’s, Pollen’s and Duusuu’s designs.]

#miraculous ladybug #miraculous ladybug fan ficton #miraculous ladybug fic #trans girl! Adrienne #trans girl adrien #trans boy! marinette #trans boy! marin #trans au #wintertundra-art's trans au #miraculous ladybug rewrite #origins rewrite #rewrite au #some character descriptions have changed #powers reworked #my writing #part one of 3 #possibly 4 #nonbinary nooroo #it/its nooroo

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artnerd1123 · 4 years ago

Text

Chapter One

All Moving Pictures End

——————————————

Chapter one is always quiet. Until the end, that is. Henry knows this better than most. That doesn’t necessarily make it any easier.

DTRH!AU masterpost AU askblog

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This is my first fic for BATIM, and my first fic i’m posting anywhere! I’m a lil nervous, but mostly excited! Hope y’all enjoy!!!

————

Chapter one was always quick. Sure, he could drag his feet if he wanted. The breathing room did him good some days. But there was only so much to do. Only so much to explore. The only other “person” up here was a wolf’s corpse. Not exactly the most welcoming environment. It wasn’t as if he hadn’t seen it all a hundred times, anyways. He could do the whole thing blindfolded if he wanted. Not that it mattered. Everything in this place ground to a halt eventually. Every movie has its credits. Every book has its final page. And every chapter has its ending twist. It was as inevitable as his next loop around this godforsaken studio. Might as well get it over with.

————

Henry Ross strolled slowly down the halls, gaze flicking around him. He knew it was safe. Old habits die hard, though, and so would he if he didn’t keep an eye out. And he was pretty sure there’d be a cutout jumping out somewhere soon. He eyed the end of the hall suspiciously. “Last thing I need is to get startled into fight or flight early,” he mumbled to himself. One more step. Nothing yet. Another. Still nothing. Huh, he thought, brows furrowed. Maybe it was down the other hall? His mind was drawing a blank. Always an encouraging sign. Or not. The toon shrugged. Whatever. He had a valve to turn. He took one last step, and the sharp trill of a violin sent a violent chill up his spine. His hand flew to his chest as his body shivered comically. A hollow grin peeked out at him from around the corner, ducking back around before he could do anything more than gasp. “Oh- oh c’mon, that wasn’t even fair,” Henry complained. “Cutouts don’t even do anything. Sheesh.” He rubbed his temples as he caught his breath. It’s still chapter one. The scriptwriter just wanted to throw him off his rhythm. As per usual. Once he quit his toonish shivering, he resumed his stroll down the hall. The cardboard cutout earned itself a slightly stern look as he rounded the corner. “You best behave yourself,” he told it simply. At least he still remembered the projector room’s tricks. Henry strode right in. He didn’t even blink as the projector suddenly sputtered to life. Its light spilled onto the wall, ready for an audience long gone. The animation was simple. Just a cheery demon doing a jaunty dance. Unseen speakers crackled along with it, an old recording whistling over the sound of film spinning. Henry couldn’t help but smile. There he was. The little devil darling. “Right on cue, bud.” The demon kept right on dancing as Henry ducked under the projector. Sure, he could’ve walked through the light. But it’d been a long while since he’d seen bendy dance. He wasn’t about to stop that, even if it was just a fleeting ghost of the past. Henry whistled softly along with the recording, straightening back up on the other side. The valve was right where it should be, next to where he’d grabbed the plushie earlier. Not for the first- or last- time, he wondered why he couldn’t have turned it earlier. Why Joey has me running all over kingdom come is beyond me, he thought. Gripping the sides of the valve wheel, Henry gave it a strong yank to one side. It loudly protested the movement, the grating groan of old metal ringing out. He grimaced at the sound. “C’mon, you can’t be stuck now,” he huffed. Though the racket made his ears want to bleed, Henry pulled harder. The groan resounded again, rusty joints straining as much as the toon, before they finally gave up. He let out a satisfied grunt as it spun a few slow turns. “There she goes.” The valve ground to a stop after a moment or two, clanging as the pipes above it started to rumble and creak. They might have been old, but they held the pressure of rushing ink well enough. Henry gave it a nod of satisfaction. Good. Ducking back under the projection, he gave it a thumbs up. “Step one done, bud,” he told it. “I’ll see you in a b-” What more he had to say was cut off by a very loud pop. A mini monsoon of ink burst out of a pipe directly overhead, gushing onto the toon below it. Henry gasped and sputtered like an angry cat as he scrambled out from the ink. He tripped over the step on his way out, flopping onto the floor with a wet splat. He was utterly drenched. Soaked gloves slapping against the floorboards, the poor toon tried to prop himself up. “Augh- that stuff’s spoiled- uck-” he choked, hacking up some ink. It burned on the way out. As if it was trying to stick to him. The sensation made his muscles tense as he struggled to get his feet under him. No. Not now. Not ever. His breaths wheezed as he swiped ink off of his arms, shaking out his legs and hair. Ink flew everywhere in a haphazard fashion- as if a dog was shaking itself off instead of a man. It was all gone in moments. He was clean again. Never had Henry been more grateful to have a trope at his disposal. “Eugh… talk about a bad time to be short a shower…” Henry said shakily. Looking over his shoulder, he could still make out little bits of light through the spurting ink. The cheerful whistling still reached his ears over the little waterfall roar. The sound eased some tension from him. Even under all the ink, Bendy was still there. Let’s hope that stays true, he thought grimly. Henry’s footsteps quickened as he traversed the halls again. The noise of the machine grumbled along behind the walls. Just one switch to flip, then he could really get this nightmare started. And he was gonna do his damn best to make this loop count for something.

The relic room was the same as he left it. Well, almost the same. Everything sat silently on its pillar. Dust still sprinkled over the floorboards. The screen next to the lever, however, flashed with a single word- READY- in big, bright letters. The rumbling of the pipes confirmed as much. Henry stared grimly at the screen from the doorway. Sure, the machine was ready. And him? “... ready as I’ll ever be,” he said softly. Time to start the show. He crossed the room without another thought, setting a hand on the lever. Despite the state of the studio around it, the metal was warm to the touch. As if someone- or something- had put it to recent use. He didn’t care to think on it further. Henry tugged it down with a grunt. The screen darkened for a moment before the letters changed. “RUNNING,” they declared. At once, the machinery along the wall sputtered to life. Slow at first, but getting faster as ink oiled the worn gears. Henry felt the hair on the back of his neck stand up when the lights suddenly dimmed. The only light left in the room was a bright circle- illuminating the machine’s life-giving power source. And, of course, the toon standing before it. He turned to the door as the clanking, rumbling, and groaning of old mechanics and ink ticked up louder. Step two was over. Now, he had a meeting to keep. The halls- once lit brightly- were now as dark as a tomb. More fitting, he mused, than the false mirth the old lights had given off. All that was left now were candles and emergency lamps. He passed by them quickly, trying to ignore the way they flickered and dimmed. Just one foot in front of the other. Another turn to the right, and a sign greeted him. It proclaimed itself as the “ink output schedule.” As he neared it, a couple other signs came into view. “EXIT,” one said. “DANGER, KEEP OUT,” cautioned another. He slowed to a stop before them. The ink machine was close. One more turn. “... this thing’s gonna need some serious updating,” Henry muttered, giving the output sign a tap. “As for the rest of these…” He snorted, shaking his head. If I could actually follow them, I’d be set, now wouldn’t I? But no, he’d ignore them. Again. He peeked around the corner instead. The way to the machine was boarded up already. How the boards got there, he wasn’t sure. But he supposed a little protection from what was in there didn’t hurt. The fact that he needed it, though, did. Could the demon see him? Did he know he was here? Was he already out of the machine, lurking just out of sight? Was he just a whisper of script? Words yet to be written? Or rather, words yet to come to fruition? He didn’t know how to answer any of those questions. Answers or not, the toon still knew what he had to do. He took a deep breath. Let it out slowly. Fists clenched at his sides, he stepped over the pipe before him. The floorboards creaked lightly as he closed the gap between himself and the boarded up doorway. He raised a hand, forcing his fingers to flatten out. Though the determined look on his face couldn’t hide how he shook. Behind the boards, the room was quiet and calm. Deceptive as the rest of the studio. Just touch the boards, Ross, he thought to himself. Get it over with. You’ve done harder. It’s not like you can go back now. His hand wavered. Moved forward, pausing again. Trembled. And quickly, before a moment more passed, he pushed his hand against the old wood. The studio around him instantly burst into inky chaos, a devilish grin erupting before him. Clawed gloves swiped out from the gap between the boards, a loud shriek accompanying their deadly strike. Demonic talons dug themselves into Henry’s chest before he could so much as flinch. The movement knocked him off his feet, the toon crashing backwards into the floor. He let out a strangled wheeze, stars bursting across his vision. All the wind had gotten knocked out of him. He couldn’t get in any air- he couldn’t breathe- oh g- fuck- c-c’mon- By the time he managed to suck down a breath, the demon was long gone. The remnants of its appearance, however, were still very much in effect. Henry’s chest heaved as he lurched to his feet, clutching his torn shirt. Morphing stains laced over the walls as ink poured from the ceiling. There was so much- too much- that it was flooding the halls. Move move mOVE MOVE, his mind screamed, nothing more than wheezing coming from his mouth. The ink was already lapping at his feet while he struggled to get over the blasted pipe in the hall. Dark liquid clung to his legs, splashing up against the walls the more he struggled through it. He just did what he could to keep moving. Each new crash of ink rupturing old planks made him flinch. But he didn’t need the herding of inky waterfalls to get to his destination. The toon pressed on towards the door he knew was waiting for him. Henry caught a glimpse of a scrawled message on the wall- DREAMS COME TRUE- before another cascade of obsidian sludge obscured it. The irony wasn’t lost on him at all. The only dreams that come true here are fucking nightmares. He let out a strangled chuckle, grabbing onto the corner to pull himself through the rising ink. It was up to his waist now. A slow burning sensation on his legs spurred him on, the toon now throwing himself around the next corner. His hands scrabbled desperately against a chest of drawers against the wall, breaths hitching in his throat. He could see the main room to his left. The exit would be right around the corner- right there! He was close! Just a little farther, Ross! Chest leaking ink, ceiling overflowing with sludge, and spoiled liquid eating at his form, Henry splashed his way around the last corner. The sliver of light shone enticingly in the darkness. Once again, he couldn’t help but wish he could reach it. So he tried. Lurching forward, Henry all but jumped towards the light- -only for his foot to pass through nothingness. His outstretched hand was illuminated for only a moment before the rest of him pitched downwards. He let out a cry- both of fear and of rage- as he tumbled, once more, into the depths of the studio.

————

A loud splash and a stream of curses announced Henry’s arrival at the bottom of the pit. He sat up with a groan. Ink still leaked down from above, pattering against his dark stained clothes. He swatted at it halfheartedly. Frankly, he’d already had enough of it. His free hand reached to gingerly rub his back, the other keeping him from flopping backwards. He got up as carefully as he could. How in the world he didn’t break his spine from that fall was beyond him. But, he thought ruefully, it wouldn’t be much of a story if the protagonist died right away, would it? At least the pain and injury would fade quickly. The trope of animation errors at its finest. “Alright… alright,” he grumbled to himself. “I better get a move on. Where’s those blasted valves…?” A glance around the room didn’t reveal much. It was a simple space. What wasn’t cut off by a small ink waterfall was still half flooded with the foul sludge. A metal shelving rack sat against one wall. A pipe with a valve was against another. Easy enough. Henry was about to wade to the pipe when something flashed in the corner of his eye. He whipped his head towards it, not caring that his neck protested painfully. What looked like a thin box glowed softly on one of the shelves. Henry’s brows furrowed. If it glowed, it had to be important. He paused a moment to see if he could recall… “… Oh!” he snapped his fingers eagerly. “Right! Tapes!” He splashed clumsily over to the shelf, giving the “box” a look over. It was an audio log. He could see that clearly now. A little beat up and stained, but unmistakable. A small smile twitched at his lips as he ran a hand over it. He couldn’t quite remember who this one was… but he didn’t think it mattered. Any trace of his old friends was good enough for him. The voices made him feel less alone. He could do with a little less loneliness. Henry gently pressed the play button, watching the little machine come to life. The tape clicked softly into place. There was a moment of quiet whirring before a grumbling voice rang from the speaker. “It’s dark and it’s cold, and it’s stuck behind every single wall now. In some places, I swear this godforsaken ink is clear up to my knees! Whoever thought that these crummy pipes could hold up under this kind of strain either knows something about pressure that I don’t, or he’s some kind of idiot,” a man barked gruffly. Henry recognized it instantly, his smile widening into a grin. “Tom!” he said brightly. “Good to hear from you, old friend.” Ah, yes. Thomas Connor. The studio’s repairman. Henry shook his head as the tape continued, the memories of Thomas complaining about pipes drifting up in his mind. … of course, a few choice phrases in the recording made the toon’s smile slip. “Like a dying dog on its last legs,” Thomas said about the pipes’ noise. He wasn’t wrong, but the mention of a dying dog… “This whole darn thing… just isn’t natural,” Thomas grumbled uneasily. “You could say that again,” Henry muttered darkly. Of course, it was the last phrase that really sobered him up. “You can bet, I won’t be doing any more repair jobs for Mister Joey Drew.” The final click of the recording echoed in the silence. Henry gave the log a long, hard look. “... well, you weren’t wrong, Tom,” he finally sighed. “You certainly weren’t wrong.” Reaching for the log, he flipped it onto its back. If he remembered right, he could probably get the tape out of there… a muffled click let a smile flit across his face. “There you are. C’mere, you.” He slid off a panel in the back to reveal an old tape. It had a labelled transcript taped to it, thankfully. That’d help keep track of names. He carefully slipped the tape into his pocket, setting the empty audio log back on the shelf. With the tape listened to and taken care of, Henry turned his focus to the task at hand. Draining all this awful ink. He slogged through the black sludge that stuck to his knees, making his way to the first valve. It turned easier than the one upstairs, but still made the same godawful groaning noise. “Geez Louise, you were right about the noise, Tom,” he winced. The ink level was falling, though, so he didn’t complain more. He was just glad the valves worked. “One down, two to go.” Glancing around, he spotted the door to the stairwell through the waterfall of ink. Because… of course it would be back there. Where else would the door be but behind more ink? Henry put his arms over his head as he jogged through the inkfall, shuddering at the feeling of old ooze on his limbs. He continued his jog down the steps, grumbling as yet another waterfall blocked his path. Stepping through this one gained him more than a shudder, though. It was a downright uncomfortable grimace. His foot had splashed right down into another deep puddle of ink. “Aw, c’mon now,” he sighed, wading down once again. “Can’t ever leave things simple and easy, can we?” At least this valve’s right in front of the stairs…

Another two rounds of groaning pipes, descending ink, and running down steps deposited the now soaked-and-grumpy toon in a rather cramped room. Calling the space a “room” was almost too generous. It was more like a glorified broom closet. A very drippy, very busted up one at that. “We’re gonna need a dozen teams of restoration architects in here,” Henry said flatly. “And that’s at a minimum.” Ink dripped slowly down from his hair before he flicked it away. A quick shake off had him relatively clean, minus some staining on his shoes. Once he was satisfied, the toon turned to the one other defining feature of the room. A closed door. It didn’t remain that way for long, the knob turning easily in his hand. He knew his way clearly from here. The door swung in to reveal an old workshop. Henry strolled right in, gaze sliding over the sparsely furnished area. All that was of note were a few stacked barrels, and an old workbench, and a boarded up doorway along the far wall. The bit of graffiti spattered around- a venomous declaration that “THE CREATOR LIED TO US-” drew a soft snort from the toon. Yeah, you could say that. Overall? The room was nothing of interest. No, what he was really looking for sat on top of the workbench. An axe lay out on top of it, its blade glinting dully in the dim light. Henry picked it up, testing its weight thoughtfully. It looked pretty sharp. Pretty durable, too. An axe had always served him well… “Hmm… yeah, I could go for a new one,” he said decisively. Swapping the axe into one hand, he shoved the other into one of his side pockets. He pulled out another axe a moment later. This one was slick with damp ink, its blade blunt and its handle full of hairline cracks. It had certainly been through the ringer. He gazed at it fondly as he set it on the bench. “So long, bud,” he sighed softly. “We had a good run.” Henry took a minute to swing the new axe around. This room was as good as any to test it out. It was a little different than he was used to- no doubt because it was newer- but it swung and balanced well. He gave it a pat of approval. Approaching the doorway, he glanced it over, sizing it up. “Now-” grunting, he hefted the axe over his shoulder- “new friend of mine-” tightened his grip- “let’s get-” and swung hard at the boards before him- “to work-!” The splintering of wood made a wonderful soundtrack as Henry chopped his way through the final hall. The work went quicker than he liked, but it still felt good to swing a proper axe again. Breaking boards was easy. Breaking boards was kinda fun. And, most importantly, breaking boards meant progress. At the end of the short hall, he leaned on the wall to catch his breath. The new axe really was nicer. Hopefully it’d last a few loops. One last door was before him, three boards holding it shut. He eyed it somberly. At long last, there it was. His entrance into chapter two. The toon straightened up slowly, rolling his shoulders. The axe dragged against the floor as he walked purposefully over. One more door. One more room. And one more unfortunate headache. Flipping the axe up, he promptly slammed it into the old wood. All three boards gave away like butter to a hot knife. Satisfied, Henry tucked the weapon behind his back. It was better to save things in his hammerspace than to trust that a certain scriptwriter would provide him another axe later. The door opened with a slow creak after he turned the knob. Before him was a small room, lit only by candlelight. Some sort of large ritual circle was drawn in the center of the floorboards. Candles sat flickering at six points around its edge. Edging in, Henry kept an eye on his feet and the circle. That thing might be his ticket to chapter two, but he didn’t want to jump on the train early. The location didn’t feel fuzzy as he looked around, but… well. You never know what could pop up next in this studio. At the wall across from the entrance, two coffins leaned side by side. A boarded up door was to their left. On the right side of the room, three chairs were set up. On the left side, there was an empty shelf. Whom the chairs or coffins were for, Henry couldn’t say. The sight of the door, at least, was reassuring. All that was left now was to step into the circle. “... you better make this quick, Joey,” he muttered.

Without further ado, he planted a foot squarely in the inky circle.

The pain he felt was immediate, surging up through his leg and into his head like a lightning strike. He couldn’t help but gasp, hands flying to his head as he doubled over. An image of the ink machine flashed before his eyes. By the time he squeezed them open and shut to dispel it, the pain had lurched him sideways. An image of a wheelchair greeted his newly opened eyes, and he groaned desperately. The pain was cranking higher- higher- so much he could barely see straight. He fumbled around, vision clouding up as he tried to turn back to the door. All that greeted him, though, was one last horrifying image. The ink demon was standing there. Illuminated by the light of an open door behind him. Reaching for him. Some distant part of Henry felt his body stumble backwards. His mind finally fell into darkness. And then… Then… … Nothing.

Nothing but the dark of the ink.

E̶̷̸̮͍̮̤̪̠͔͚̬̻̼̰̤͉̱͔̝̰͠Ņ͈͉̙̣͙̜̣͖͔͍͍̯̟̬̭͢͠ͅD̷̨̼͇̖̮̙ ̶̴͎̪͓̯̮̲̼͠O͏̶̸̸̞̣̦̟̫̦̞̪̳̤͎͚̯̦̝̳F̶̵̥͚̘̣̮͔ ̣̫̞̰̬͚͞͞C̭͎̥̠͔̩͕͕̯͉͍̤̬̩̙̟͎̱͉̕͠͠͠͞Ḩ̢͜͠҉̲̥̮̫A̴҉͕͚̬̳̲͙̮͙̝͡͝P̵̩͎̩͓̲̬̕͟Ţ̯̱̠͍̝̲̠̗̼͜͜E͏̷̮̬̪̬̠̙R̷̡̹̖̥̖͘͜ ̧̪͈̥̝̞̘̰̬̻̺̞̠͎͟͟͞Ó̠͙̲̞̰͔͕͡N̵̬̜̣̜̬̻̖͈̙͍͍̻̰̤͎̙̜͜͝ͅĘ̰͎̩̺̙̱̯͈̭̬͙͇͔̕.̸̸̧̳̱̣̠̺̭̖̦̹̳͙̼̳̠͠͡ͅ

#batim au #arty writes #dtrh!au #down the rabbit hole au #dtrh!henry #dtrh!bendy #dtrh!thomas #aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa #this is queued bc its like midnight as i'm formatting this lksjdflkjfkls #anyways!!!#here!!! is the thing!!!!!!!!!!!#someone yell at me to rb this to my askblog if i haven't later!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!#i'm v v happy with this tbh ^^#idk exactly what i wanna say abt it #but yea i did this in like. three days of adrenaline filled hyperfixation LSKDJF #go me!!!#i hope u guys like it!!! ;w;

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animeniacss · 5 years ago

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6 Years - Hoseok x Reader - Chapter 19 - The Emotions of a Child

Synopsis: 6 years. That’s all it can take to take another look at someone and see that they have completely changed. You were once an eager 20-year-old, with your dreams all in view, and Jung Hoseok at your side to view them with you. However, after a break up the end of your junior year of college, everything seemed different. Now, you’re a recently divorced single mother of two, and your life is nowhere near what you thought it would be. However, after reuniting with Jung Hoseok, you may just be able to capture a little bit of that exciting youth you once knew so long ago.

Feat. BTS Members, Nayeon (TWICE), and Yuna (itzy)

Genre: Romance, SingleMother!AU, Past Relationship, Drama, Some Depictions of Violence/Domestic Abuse

Length: approx. 5.5k words

Chapter 19 - The Emotions of a Child

“Mommy! Look!” Min Ja cheered as she saw you by the front entrance of her school with both Hoseok and So-Hee. The three of you had been talking together as you waited for the kindergarteners to be let out, and we alerted by the sound of their shouting. Min Ja ran up to you, a paper clutched tightly in her hands. It had been one week since Min Ja had her off day since Weong-Bin had tried to sink his controlling teeth in his little girl. Though he wasn’t giving up just yet, Min Ja had pretty much returned to her normal self, despite a few setbacks. Maybe Hoseok was right, she was going through a separation phase from her Dad. As your daughter finally reached you, you knelt down to meet her as she practically jumped into your arms.

“What is it?” You asked curiously. Min Ja held out the rolled-up paper in her hand to you, and you took it, standing up to roll it open. So-Hee was doing the same with San-Ha’s picture. Upon opening it, you saw the family portrait she had drawn. The one with you, her, and Hyo Bin, and Weong-Bin standing by his house. As you looked it over, you noticed something that wasn’t there the morning you had placed it into her backpack. Beside Min Ja, stood a man with some wavy dark hair, and a little heart-shaped smile as he and Min Ja held their little stick figure hands. On top of the paper was a big star and smiley sticker placed there by the teacher for a job well done. “Oh wow…” you smiled. “You did such a good job!”

“Show Mr. Hobi too!” She begged. Without even waiting, she took hold of Hoseok’s arm. “Mr. Hobi, look!”

“Okay, okay.” He smiled, leaning over to take a glance at the picture. “Wow! A star and a sticker? Augh, I’m jealous!” He said and saw out of the corner of his eye, Min Ja’s eyes light up. As he continued to look, he noticed the little stick figure depiction of himself and blinked. For a moment, he felt his chest tighten a bit, and he glanced up at you. You looked over at him too, giggling. “Aww, you added me in there too?”

“Yeah, I did.” Min Ja said happily. “I did it right before school, so it’s a little bit smudgy. I’m sorry.” Hoseok chuckled, kneeling down and offering Min Ja a smile. She smiled back at him as she fixed her two pigtails. “Do you like it still?”

“I love it~.” He said happily, offering his arms out. “You’re the sweetest.” Min Ja, of course, didn’t hesitate and jumped into Hoseok’s arms just like she always did. So-Hee also looked over her shoulder at the picture, then to you.

“Oh my God, my heart…” she sighed. “That’s so precious.”

“I know.” You said, rolling the picture up. “I’m so glad the girls like him…”

“Tell me you’ve mentioned moving in.” She begged softly, so Hoseok wouldn’t hear. The thought of it made you let out a frustrated sigh, and you glanced at her.

“Hoseok thinks she’s going through a bit of a separation phase since she doesn’t see her dad a lot. She keeps asking me about him and when he’s going to come back into our family, it’s been going on all week. I don’t know what to do. But Hoseok thinks moving in now will make it worse, so we’re going to wait.” So-Hee sighed as well, just hearing that made her sympathize.

“That must be so rough. But I’m sure she’ll get through it. San-Ha went through something similar when her father started going on more business trips last year. Constantly sad, asking about him every minute of every day, wanting to call him. She even tried to pack her bags and move in with him.” You chuckled.

“Yeah, but your husband is a good man who still comes home. My ex is the exact opposite. I just don’t know the best way to help her.”

“Ever think about family counseling?” she asked.

“I tried.” You said. “Right before the divorce, I tried. Didn’t work.” So-Hee smiled,

“Well, I’m here if you need me.” She offered, placing a supportive hand on your shoulder. It made you comfortable, and a smile formed on your face. “I’ll see you tomorrow.” She said. “San-Ha, time to go.” She called, and the girls looked up.

“Bye, Min Ja.” San-Ha waved. Min Ja waved back before watching her friend hurry up to her mom. “Bye, Miss. Cho.” She said, looking up to you. You offered her a wave, before watching her take her mother's hand and the two-headed off.

“Mommy, can we hang up a picture in my room?” Min Ja asked curiously, taking your hand.

“Of course, we can~.” You said happily, her hand clutched tightly in yours as the three of you headed off school grounds and back to the house.

After picking up Hyo Bin and arriving back home, the four of you just took some time to relax after a long day of work. Hoseok had found himself napping on the couch before having to go in for his afternoon lessons, and you had helped Min Ja hangs her picture up in the bedroom. She was very picky though, wanting it in the perfect spot, leaving you shuffling side to side for a good ten minutes as she examined it with a fine eye, like an interior designer.

“Right there!” She finally shouted, and you had to quickly shush her so she wouldn’t wake up Hoseok. “Sorry…” she whispered. As she watched you tape up the picture, she picked up Hyo Bin as high as she could and walked over to it. “Look, Hyo Bin, that’s me, and that’s you.” She said. Hyo Bin looked up at the picture, which was at a level low enough for Min Ja to see pretty well, but Hyo Bin needed to be lifted. “See? And there’s Mommy and Mr. Hobi.” Hyo Bin looked at the picture, before pointing to Weong-Bin on the other side.

“Daddy!” She said quickly. Min Ja shuffled over, struggling to hold her toddler sister. “There’s Daddy!” You took this moment of the two of them occupying themselves to sit on the floor and watch them. You didn’t do it much, but you just loved it when you could sit and watch them do whatever it was sisters did. Up until your mother remarried and you gained Taehyung as a little brother, even then it wasn’t really little, you were 15 and he was 14, you were an only child. These moments of childlike bliss with a sibling were something you never got to experience, but you were glad to be finally able to give Min Ja someone like that through Hyo Bin.

As you sat and watched the duo look at the picture, Min Ja looked over at you.

“Mommy…” she hummed as she walked over to you, and fit herself perfectly into your lap. “Can I call Daddy?” You blinked, glancing down at her. “I want to tell him all about school.”

“…Okay.” You dug into your pocket and pulled out your cellphone. “I think he’s at work still, but we can try.” Min Ja waited anxiously as she watched you dial his number, then handed her the phone, which she pressed to her ear. You listened in too, until you heard the muffled “Hello” from Weong-Bin, and saw Min Ja perk up in excitement.

“Hi Daddy!” She said happily, and Hyo Bin was soon to follow with her greeting. Weong-Bin laughed a bit.

“Hi, girls. What made you want to call me?”

“I miss you, Daddy…” Min Ja said. “So, Mommy said I could call you.”

“Aww, that’s really nice, I miss you too.” He said. “But I’m at work right now, so we can only talk for a few minutes, okay?” Min Ja agreed, before quickly diving into her entire school day with him, not leaving out any detail that came to her mind. She told him about her friends and her playing outside, all the news words they learned how to write, and how she got a star and a sticker on her family picture. She just seemed so happy talking to him, she always was. But this time felt so different, for some reason. You really couldn’t put your finger on why, but it didn’t seem like it was only this phase that had her so eager to be around her dad. She always seemed pretty content with her life, though she never fully seemed to understand the situation revolving around your divorce. As a few minutes ticked away, Weong-Bin let out a sad sigh. “Okay, honey, I need to go.” He heard Min Ja and Hyo Bin whine on the phone. “Awww, I know.” He said. “I promise, I’ll call you both later. Plus, this weekend is our weekend so I’ll see you really, really soon!”

“But that’s a few days away, I want to see you now.” Min Ja pouted.

“I know, honey, but remember what we talked about right?” He hummed gently. Min Ja looked over her shoulder at you, and you offered her a kind smile in return. “I promise I’ll see you really, really soon.”

“Okay, bye Daddy.” Min Ja said.

“Bye, Daddy.” Hyo Bin repeated. Weong-Bin bid his own farewell before Min Ja hung up the phone and handed it back to you. When she turned to face you, you could see her eyes were turning red and her lip was quivering. Setting the phone down, you ran a hand through Min Ja’s hair.

“Min Ja, what’s wrong?” you asked softly, holding her close to you.

“I just really miss Daddy…” she sniffled into your chest. “I wish I could see him every day like I see you….” You felt a tug at your heartstrings, a wave of guilt wash over you as you held her close, rubbing her back. You didn’t know what you could possibly say to her in hopes of improving her mood.

“I…I know you do, honey. I’m sure he wishes the same thing. But…things happen that sometimes we can’t control, you know?” Min Ja sniffled, and you knew you weren’t in a proper headset to have an emotionally taxing talk with your daughter right now. All you could do was rub her back and try your best to calm her down a bit.

That night, Hoseok had come over after his meeting and an impromptu dance lesson with his favorite group of college dancers and was drained. He had arrived after the girls had fallen asleep, so you heated him up something to eat and both of you had collapsed in bed. You had told him about Min Ja, and how she had been upset the rest of the day after her phone call with Weong-Bin. You also told him that no matter how hard you had tried; you couldn’t explain the situation to her in a way that seemed to help. When you tried to explain that you and Weong-Bin were divorced, it only made her sadder. You didn’t even dare bring up Hoseok, even though she did know the two of you were dating, she didn’t seem to fully understand that Weong-Bin coming back and having Hoseok remain in their lives were two things that could not co-exist. Hoseok soothed you about it, assuring you that it would all blow over, and Min Ja would grow out of it as she got older, and the two of you fell asleep.

In the next room, Min Ja stirred around 3 a.m. Her eyes flew open, and she stared into the dark room, trying to get her mind together as best as she could. She couldn’t remember what woke her up if it was a dream of just her own body, but all she knew was that she was shaking. Quickly, she got out of bed and hurried into your bedroom. She tried to be quiet as she pushed the door open enough for her to slide in. As her eyes adjusted to the darkness, she saw two figures in bed. She knew one was you, but when she saw the other, she felt a sense of excitement wash over her.

Daddy? She thought as she went to that side of the bed. She quickly turned on the bedside lamp, light shining into the room. She heard a grunt, and she when looked over, she saw Hoseok roll over to face her. That excited feeling, she had washed away for a moment, and Hoseok sat up.

“Min Ja…” he said softly, rubbing his eyes. He glanced over to you, seeing that despite the entrance of light in the room, you remained undisturbed, deep in sleep. When he saw that, he quietly exited the bed and knelt down. “What’s wrong?” He could see her eyes were glossy now.

“I…thought you were my Daddy…” she said softly. Hoseok sighed softly, reaching out to wipe her eyes.

“I’m sorry, Min Ja.” he said. After a moment of silence, he smiled. “How about we go to the kitchen and have some warm milk, hm? That always puts me to sleep.” Min Ja nodded a bit, and Hoseok got up, turning off the light in the room and quietly leading her out into the kitchen. Once inside, she took a seat at the table while Hoseok put some milk in the microwave for her. While it warmed up, he knelt down beside her. “Now, what woke you up in the middle of the night?”

“I don’t know. I just woke up and my heart was hurting. I think I had a nightmare…” she said, her voice cracking slightly. “But I can’t remember…” Hoseok smiled.

“Aaah, I hate when that happens.” He said.

“You get nightmares, Mr. Hobi?” she asked curiously.

“Of course. All the time. Your Mom even has to help me get over them sometimes, when they’re really scary.” Min Ja giggled a bit. Right before the microwave let out a high-pitched beep, Hoseok got up and opened the microwave, taking out the milk and setting the cup by Min Ja. “Careful, just in case it’s a bit hot.” He said. Min Ja sat and looked at the milk silently for a few moments, before her little hands finally reached out and took it, lifting it up and taking it to sip. “Good?” he asked. Min Ja nodded, and Hoseok pulled up a chair beside her. “Good~.” He sat for a few moments, watching her silently drink the milk. “…Min Ja.” he hummed softly, and she looked over. “Is there anything else I can do to make you feel better?”

“I don’t know. My head hurts and I don’t know why…”

“Mommy told me you had a rough day after school today. Is that maybe why?”

“Maybe…” she said softly. “But I think I’m being sad a lot now.”

“Is it because you still miss your Dad?” He asked. Min Ja hesitated, but eventually gave a slight nod.

“Yeah, a little. I see him soon, and I’m excited. I miss him a lot. When I don’t see him, it makes me really, super sad.”

“Awww, well, I’m sorry to hear that.” He said. “But other than that, you don’t know why you’re so sad?” Min Ja shrugged. In a way, she may know, but she couldn’t put it together yet. All she knew was that she was sad right now, but she was also happy. It was weird. “Maybe your Mom can help you. Do you want to talk to her tomorrow?”

“Mommy got sad today too, because I was sad. I don’t want her to be sad, too…” she said sadly. Hoseok smiled, ruffling her hair.

“Well if you ever find out why you’re sad, we’re here to listen to you and make you feel better, okay?” he said. Min Ja nodded, and she took another sip of her milk. Hoseok could see her eyes were getting heavy after a few minutes, and he stood up. “Let’s get you back to bed.” He suggested, lifting her up in his arms. She nuzzled into him as her eyes began to close more. Hoseok lied her in bed, pulling the covers over her and making her that she was holding her stuffed animal as she began to fall asleep. “Goodnight.” He said gently. She mumbled an incoherent goodnight, and it wasn’t long until she was back to sleep. Feeling content, Hoseok left the room and returned to yours. Upon entering, he saw that you were sitting up, rubbing your eyes.

“Is everything okay?” you asked softly. Hoseok smiled, crawling back into bed and kissing you quickly.

“Everything is fine. Just go back to sleep for now.” He assured. You watched him lie back down and turn off the lights. As you lied down as well, you closed your eyes again.

The minute that light turned on, you were snapped right awake. With the house being so small and so quiet, you heard everything the two of them were talking about. It killed you that you didn’t know what to do.

----------------

“So-Hee, I don’t know what to do.” You said, leaning back in your chair. So-Hee had come over for a playdate, and Nayeon had stopped by as well, and the three of you found yourselves in the kitchen while the girls were in the playroom together. You all were talking over a cup of tea, well, it was mostly you, So-Hee and Nayeon was just listening. “I want to help her but she keeps saying she wants Weong-Bin to do that. I’ve tried to explain why he can’t, but…I guess I’m not getting it across to her.” You ran a hand through your hair. “Min Ja is a smart girl, I know she’s seen me and Weong-Bin fighting before I just…I know it’s still her father but how do I tell her he can’t come back?” Lowering the cup of tea from her lips, Nayeon took a deep breath.

“You’re going to have to be straight forward with Weong-Bin, has he said anything to her about this?” She asked curiously.

“I have no idea.” You said. “They’re seeing him this weekend so hopefully he will try to explain it to her. Whenever I do, she just starts freaking out and asking even more questions.” The girls could see how stressed and overwhelmed this was starting to become for you as you rest your elbows on the table, digging your hands in your hair.

“Hey…” So-Hee hummed, reaching out to take your hand out of your hair and grip securely onto your hand. “It’s going to be fine. Stressing out is not going to make Min Ja anymore secure. If she sees you’re getting anxious, it’ll only make the girls more anxious.”

“I know, I know…” you groaned. “I just wish I knew what I could do to make her understand. What am I supposed to say? ‘Your Daddy slams me against walls and calls me horrible names, he’s lucky he doesn’t see you, girls, through a plate-glass window in a prison?’” You heard your friends chuckle a bit as your attempt of a joke, and it made you force a smile of your own. “Every time I try to explain it, I just think…what will Weong-Bin say when he finds out?”

“Weong-Bin is a lot of things, but he seems to love his kids a lot. I’m sure if you explain to him that she’s feeling this way and it’s making her anxious, he’ll do what he has to so she stops feeling that way.” Nayeon said simply. “All you can do is talk to him and the two of you come to an agreement on how you’ll help Min Ja through this. You may be divorced, but you’re both still her parents…”

“Alright…” you said softly. “I’ll talk to him when he picks up the kids Friday night…” you said softly. “That’s all I can do. I want her to move on from this because I don’t want to make it worse for her if I ask Hoseok to move in with us again.” Nayeon smiled.

“It’ll all happen in time. Hoseok isn’t going anywhere.” She assured.

“I know…” Just as you leaned back in your seat, you lifted up your cup and put the tea to your mouth, taking a sip, you heard the door to the girl’s room open. Glancing over, you saw Min Ja, Hyo Bin, and San-Ha rush out the door, giggling constantly. When they came into view, they were dressed head to toe in whatever they could grab from the girl’s dress-up box. Min Ja had on a colorful tutu, her neck covered in about 3 different colored beaded necklaces, and a sideways crown on her head. She wore an old pair of shoes that you gave them when they got too small for you, and each ring looked like it had a ring on it. Hyo Bin was only in an oversized dress, her entire body swallowed up by the massive fabric. San-Ha was in a princess veil, massive green sunglasses, and long purple gloves. They were unable to stop their laughter as they spun around to show you their outfits.

“Look Mommy!” Min Ja shouted. “We’re playing dress-up!” Seeing her wide, gap-tooth smile made you unable to hold back one of your own.

“Wow, you look so pretty! I love glasses, San-Ha.” The little girl giggled.

“I need a picture.” So-Hee laughed, grabbing her phone and kneeling down to snap a photo of the three girls. You lifted up your phone and did the same, making sure to send one to Hoseok, in hopes of giving him a pick-me-up to get through work. He and Jimin were swimming in business meetings and other discussions about monthly budgets and competition funds, so he was pretty busy recently, and you tried to share pictures when you could to get him through the day.

“Can we have pizza for lunch, Mommy?” San-Ha asked curiously.

“Pizza?” So-Hee asked, checking the time. “That sounds good. How about we all go out and get some?” The girls cheered in excitement as So-Hee turned to you. “My treat?”

“Oh stop, I invited you here, let me pay.” You sighed. “Girls, go take off the dress-up clothes and then we’ll go.” With the excitement of pizza filling their heads, they hurried back into the playroom, Hyo Bin shuffling behind in her long dress before Min Ja went back to take her hand and help her inside. Getting out of your seat, you collected the teacups and put them into the sink. You were hoping that talking to Weong-Bin would help you handle this situation more, and would help Min Ja settle whatever confusing emotions were inside of her.

God, I hope Weong-Bin can be civil just this once so we can handle this in peace.

-----------------

The sound of the doorbell ringing through the apartment almost sent you into cardiac arrest. It sounded so much louder this time than it normally did. As you got up from the couch, you saw Min Ja bolt to the door and reach to unlock it, flinging it open to see her father standing at the door.

“Daddy!” She shouted in glee, pouncing on him. He grinned as he scooped her up into his arms, spinning her around. “I missed you so, so much!”

“I missed you too, honey.” He said, looking up. He saw you standing by the door as well. “Where’s Hyo Bin?”

“Mr. Hobi is helping her put everything into our bags.” Min Ja smiled happily. You immediately saw Weong-Bin frown a bit, his eyes falling to you.

“…Min Ja.” you said quickly. “Why don’t we go tell them that it’s time to go, huh?” Min Ja nodded, looking at her dad.

“I want to show you my picture from school.” She said, grinning as Weong-Bin smiled.

“Okay, lead the way.” He set her down, and she took his hand as she led him inside her bedroom, you following right behind. Upon entering the room, you guys saw Hoseok and Hyo Bin sitting on the floor, Hyo Bin running back and forth as she kept handing him things. If it was good to pack, he put it in the bag, if it wasn’t, he would fling it behind his back, making Hyo Bin burst into laughter. She had just run up to him, handing him one of her pillows.

“Hm…nope!” He grinned, flinging it behind his back. Hyo Bin let out a burst of guttural laughter as she hurried back to her bed. When Hoseok saw you three enter the room, he looked up. “Oh, hello~.” He smiled happily. When he saw Hyo Bin's approach, he saw her holding her blanket. “Okay, here we go. Let’s put this in and you’re all set, okay?” Hyo Bin nodded, and Hoseok playfully poked her nose, making her giggle. Weong-Bin took a deep breath as he saw Hoseok walk over to him. “Hello, Weong-Bin.” He said simply. Weong-Bin nodded.

“Hello…” he said.

“Daddy, look!” Min Ja tugged at his arm as she pointed to the picture on the wall. Weong-Bin walked over to it, lifting Hyo Bin up in his arms so she could look too. “My teacher really liked my picture! She said it was very detailed.” His eyes scanned the picture, and he saw four people standing in front of the house, a boy and three girls. Then, he caught a glimpse of the other male on the other end of the picture, standing alone in front of a big house with a brown briefcase. That must be him, which meant the male holding Min Ja’s hand was Hoseok. He glanced over, seeing Hoseok and you standing by the front door and watching as Min Ja show her father every detail about her picture.

“That’s lovely, Min Ja.” he said, putting a hand on her head. She glanced up at him and smiled happily. “Alright, we should get going, okay? Say goodbye.” Min Ja said her goodbyes to you and Hoseok, giving you both tight hugs. When you walked to the door, watching Weong-Bin gather the girl's belongings and helping them put on their shoes, you stopped.

“Weong-Bin, I need to talk to you.” You said quickly, and he glanced up. A smile formed on his face as he knelt down, putting Hyo Bin on the floor before you led him into the hallway, towards your bedroom. Once you knew that the kids were out of earshot, you turned to him. “Min Ja has been…acting really weird recently. At first, she was all soft-spoken and reserved, and I guess Hoseok talked to her and it started to help. But she’s starting to get weird again.” You said. “I’m sure you’ve noticed; she wants to call you more often and she’s always asking me when she can see you.”

“You think that’s weird?” He asked, and you could hear the annoyance in his voice.

“N-not weird.” You said. “Just…well, she’s been acting strangely in general. She asks me why you can’t come live with us anymore.”

“What have you told her?”

“I’ve tried to explain it to her, but I don’t think I’m getting it through to her. I think she’s going through a separation phase, that’s what Hoseok said. Could you maybe just talk to her? Try to explain it to her in a way she can understand. I want us to be on the same page with this, it’s really starting to heighten her anxiety. Just tell me you’ll talk to her.” Weong-Bin felt a grin wanting to form on his face, but he forced it away.

“I’ll talk to her.” He assured, putting a hand on your shoulder. You let out a deep sigh and nodded, smiling at him a bit. With that set, the both of you headed inside the living room again. “Okay! We ready?” He asked, and his girls nodded. “Awesome~. Alright, guys.” He took both of their hands, and they all said their goodbyes before heading out. Hoseok closed the door and turned to you. He could see you looked a bit uneasy, so he walked over to you, pulling you into a tight hug.

“Aaah, it’ll all work out. Don’t worry about it.” He assured. You nodded, tightening your grip on him.

“I just hope he says the right things to her.”

----------------

That night, when Hyo Bin had fallen asleep, Weong-Bin sat Min Ja down on her bed and set himself beside her. He ran a hand through her hair, and she rested up against him. He was listening to her read a few of her books to practice her fluency, but he was also thinking. Though it seemed what he had told Min Ja was working, Hoseok was trying to undo whatever Weong-Bin was trying to set into place. Whether it was intentional or not, having Hoseok around Min Ja was going to make everything and anything he said to his daughter render worthless.

Damn that stupid grin of his. He thinks he’s some fucking saint. He thought to himself. As he heard Min Ja finish up her story, she closed the book and set it aside.

“Good job, sweetie.” He said, smiling down at her. “Now, I and you need to talk again, okay?” Min Ja looked up at her dad and frowned.

“Oh no…” she said softly. “Did I do something bad?”

“Something bad? No, no.” He assured, rubbing her back soothingly. “But we have a problem. Mommy wants me to talk to you. She said you’re telling her that you want me to move back in.”

“Yeah, I’m sorry…” she said, remembering his request not to say anything.

“No, that’s good!” He said quickly, making her lookup. “I want to move back in with you and Mommy, so if you say it too, it might change her mind about it. We just can’t tell her that we’re talking about it in secret.” He could see the wheels in Min Ja’s head beginning to turn, so he continued. “Hobi is making it very, very hard for me, Min Ja. I think he’s doing it on purpose.”

“…On purpose?”

“Yeah. He doesn’t want us to be a family anymore…” He sighed, looking down at her. “He doesn’t know how lonely I am here, and how much I miss you.”

“Well…then maybe you can tell him that. Mr. Hobi is really, really nice when I tell him things that make me sad. Like once, he screamed during a movie and it woke me up. I told him not to do it anymore, and he promised he wouldn’t.” Weong-Bin groaned, and when Min Ja heard it, her heart began to race.

“Well, this is different.” He said simply. “Mr. Hobi and I both love your Mommy very much, but I loved your Mommy first. Mr. Hobi is being very selfish with what he’s doing…” He held her close. “I just wish I could see you every night, and we could lie down like this until you go to bed all the time, and read stories. Wouldn’t you like that?” Min Ja felt a lump in her throat.

“Y-yeah…” she said softly. “But Mr. Hobi is nice, I….” she looked down at her lap, remembering what he had told her a week ago.

I know I’m not your dad, but you and Hyo Bin mean a lot to me.

“Min Ja.” Weong-Bin said simply. “Didn’t I say it makes me sad when you don’t trust me?” he asked gently. Min Ja nodded again and ran a hand across her eyes. “I only want what’s best for you, and that would be us being a family again. I can’t spend any more nights at home all by myself, it makes me really sad…” Min Ja glanced up at him. “And I’ve known Mr. Hobi a long time, so I know him really well and it makes me even sadder that you don’t trust me…when all I want is to make us a family again…” Min Ja couldn’t hold her tears back anymore.

“I’m sorry, Daddy…” she said softly. “I trust you. I really, really do. I’m sorry.” Weong-Bin looked down at her, wiping her eyes as she sniffled and whimpered.

“I’m so happy you do, Min Ja. You know I love you very much, right?” he asked. Min Ja nodded, hugging her dad tightly. “I promise, really soon I’ll be living in your house again and we’re going to be a happy family.”

“Okay, Daddy…” she said softly, nuzzling into his hug. As she felt Weong-Bin lie her down in bed, and kiss her goodnight, he left her alone. As she lied in her bed, staring at the ceiling, she felt her heart racing. She thought that everything was okay now, she had felt a lot better after she drew Hoseok in her picture, and everything felt as if it was going back to normal.

Why did her Daddy make everything in her heart and head hurt so bad?

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doctorguilty · 5 years ago

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ok you’ve all been waiting for it my thoughts on the sonic movie!!!

under cut cause long

so overall! I really liked the movie! I think it sorta landed pretty in the ballpark of what I sorta expected quality-of-plot wise and how much I’d be entertained by it. which is satisfying!!! I’m going to like, stream of thought this, starting with some criticisms which are gonna be kinda hefty cause im critiquing something I care about

so right away I really disliked the “record scratch so this is me I bet you’re wondering how I got in this situation” opening like I’m not sure if it was intentionally a self aware joke on that being cliche and dumb but it does like, really frustrate me cause my philosophy for most stories is Start your story where it begins!! which made the backstory infodump more frustrating on top of that, like, I think that’s an easy mistake to make to want to spill your Backstory right away but it’s not necessary! the audience doesn’t NEED to know immediately what sonic was like in his homeworld and his tragic separation from it. we already have the audiences suspension of disbelief in play because they know they’re watching.. a movie about sonic the hedgehog in the real world. I think the backstory stuff would have been much more impactful as a flashback later on, especially when sonic’s whole arc is how lonely and isolated he is. it would be a better punch in the heart to later on be like so by the way as a child his guardian probably died and sent him to earth for his own safety. so that was like AUGH you blew it

next up that i think was unnecessary like, completely, was establishing that sonic already knew the main cop guy and his wife (omg I already forgot their names..because they were not memorable but we’ll get to that fjdsg) and like, secretly immersed himself into their life that’s ?? odd to me? I think it would have been fine to just have sonic be like attached to the whole small town and he thinks the cop is cool and calls him donut lord, and that’s the extent of it like cause the problem is later down the plot when sonic finds out cop guy is leaving green hills and flips out about it.. I’m like, not sure if I believe sonic, immersing himself in their life, had NOT known that was a thing cop guy wanted to do like he NEVER heard about that??? but that’s like whatever

I don’t really like the cop guy as the protag human like. oof he was very bland and I’m trying to figure out how to put this into words............ I feel like a character like him isn’t someone the audience can really connect to. this guy has a virtually perfect life with a house and a dog and a job and a wife, his Conflict is that he wants to move to california and see more action and save people, but the WEIRDEST thing about it is that the prospect of leaving his little town behind isn’t really shaking him up at all. it shakes SONIC up later, but up until that point.... the cop just has legit a perfect life and it’s kinda sad because sonic appearing in it physically becomes something that immediately has the effect of “starting to ruin it” and thats why the cop is so like, mean about things at first.

see I don’t really like that it doesn’t make a lot of sense to me. if I were to rewrite this keeping the general ideas in mind, I would have opted for a ... paul blart crossed with judy hopps. a guy who’s life isn’t all in order, maybe not living in trash but he doesn’t have a wife, he DREAMS of being a cop and saving people, but he doesn’t quite have what it takes physically/mentally or maybe he’s too afraid to even try. he loves his rural town but thinks like, maybe if I move to the big city I’ll find myself maybe he’s offered a job there for something boring and is like resigning to a boring life idk there’s a lot you can do but you get the idea! a lonely underdog with big dreams. so when Sonic comes into his life, its WAY more impactful to paul hopps.....judy blart...... that Sonic pleads for help saving his life and this sudden adventure isn’t ruining his life either.

then LATER when we get to sonic being upset that paul hopps wants to leave, it’s less this awkward confrontation “how dare you wanna live your already in motion dreams somewhere ELSE because people love you HERE” (like .. oof bad take tbh) it would be a much nicer “why do you want to leave your home to become a hero when everyone here already sees you as one” and instead of the shabby like “well I guess I’ll stay because i crossed off saving someone from my bucket list” paul hopps would feel fulfilled he saved sonic and I actually you know what? I’d change up the whole scene with the turtle to be at the end where paul hopps becomes a cop in green hills and he like, saves a turtle crossing the road and is like! that’s what its all about being a hero! like thats cute and resonates with an audience, the message like, being a hero just means being kind and doing the right thing, which is way more suitable for a sonic movie when the sonic series has always been a campy power of friendship thing.

in a similar vein, the cop being a lonely underdog would give him a better connection with sonic, so that even if he was annoyed by him at first he’d later have the understanding they’re one in the same, you know? connections people!! themes!!!!

anyway but enough of that au

so the last thing I’m like iffy about is how robotnik was handled. like jim carry is funny and stuff but it felt like a bit of a mess like, this character is repeatedly reminding us what a hard ass I’M SUPERIOR THAN YOU MY IQ IS HUGE but then being super mega goofy, like I’m all for eccentric scientists but it felt kind of disconnected? and idk like not to be that guy but man.. i remember when sonic 06 came out and everyone hated how eggman was slimmed down to what he looked like in that game jfkdfsgksdj like my brain really doesn’t find a fully slender bodied eggman palatable like......... let my mans be fat ... WHICH tbh I’m a little nervous because at the end of the movie we see this implication that robotnik is turning more visually into the eggman we know with the stache and bald head but I’m worried they’re gonna also go with “and he also gets fat” cause I don’t like that sort of thing, you know?

i think that’s all for my major criticisms!! but otherwise like! the movie was genuinely really fun and goofy and it felt very in spirit with the sonic franchise!

if you read bogleech’s post I agree with him whole heartedly that this is the best characterization of sonic. it feels almost like?????? the characterization he was MEANT To have but he always ended up going TOO MUCH in the direction of confident and cocky and being too cool and successful about it? I love sonic with that hyper teenager-like personality, it’s incredibly charming and cute, like I never Hated sonic as a character but he was defs like... lower on my list of characters in the franchise I found interesting. I felt like I could connect with movie sonic a lot and like! i’d want to be his friend, you know? I really really want to see more of him like that!

I also agree big time that the movie had the best use of bullet time I’ve ever seen! I’m like omg?? WHY hasnt that ever been a mechanic in a game?

and overall just like the cuteness like............I literally almost cried when the little girl gave sonic her shoes like AAAAAAAAAAAAA WEEPS............ and the end with sonic getting his own room thats so super cute too!!!!

oh and the post credits scene with tails was SO FUCKING HYPE like, people in the theater audibly gasped and started being like YESSSSSSS tails looks really great!

so like YEAH dabs ,, being a story snob aside it was a fun and cute movie and I’m glad to hear it trumped detective pikachu for a video game movie I’m glad it’s brought some attention to the sonic franchise! like while it’s cool in some aspects that Nerd Culture is mainstream now, it’s absolutely exhausting the HUGE focus on that is marvel and DC and all that stuff........ like theres nothing wrong w/ liking that but its like.. hm.... idk how to explain it but................. as someone who was bullied a lot in school for liking things like sonic.. like I guess stuff like that people usually see as lame stuff for babies??? superheroes are more like, macho and palatable to adults?? it’s been a good experience for all my normie coworkers to ask what I did for valentines day and I tell them “I saw the sonic the hedgehog movie” and I BRACE myself reflexively to be laughed at but not a single person did they were just like oh cool! how was it? like it really makes me appreciate I got to at least grow up and feel a little more accepted!

so THATS my thoughts feel free to comment and discuss!

#seth speaks

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kpopisthereasonihavenolife · 6 years ago

Text

Enrollment

BTS

Park Jimin/Reader [F]

Genre: Demon AU, Drabble

Words: 1.6k

Angst - 12: “Who did this? Who hurt you?” Fluff - 13: “God, you’re so beautiful.”

You’ve been told for as long as you can remember if you hang a foot off the bed at night, or keep your closet door open, a demon would appear and take you away. Where to was an answer you were never given. Though, no one prepared you for the demon who fell through a portal in your ceiling into your bed at 3 AM.

You were still up, binge-watching the latest hit show until balls-ass o’clock against better judgment. With class in the morning and the clock just hitting 2:57 AM, you starred at the bright numbers in your dark room. You were one of the lucky students who managed a single dorm without having to bunk with someone else. On the 4th floor of the 7-floor building, all the way at the end of the hall by the stairwell was your small dorm.

It was like magic. Maybe it was magic. At the exact moment the clock flicked to 3 AM, it went haywire. Blaring its alarm that wasn’t suppose to go off until 7, you shrieked. Slapping the snooze or flipping off the alarm did work to silence it. Soon, you jolted out of your bed, abandoning your tablet with your show to unplug it. Finally, it was silent, but not for long.

Soon, a flash of what was lightning circled your ceiling before something fell and hit your bed. Scared out of your wits by now, you ran and scrambled for your light switch. The lightning disappeared as quickly as it appeared as you flipped on the light. There was a man on your bed.

“What the fuck?!” You shrilled as the man lay unmoving on his back on your bed. You stuck your head out a bit. His face wasn’t visible from where his head was on your pillows. “Hello?” You spoke with a crack in your voice. The sound of your show drowned in the background as you slowly stepped around your bed to look at the man.

He was gorgeous. Dark hair with light highlights scattered along his fringe. Skin a golden tan, shining and smooth like the finest paint. Dressed in a torn, holey white shirt and dark pants, his feet were bare as his toes past the end of your bed. His jawline was sharp and his small body seemed toned even fully clothed. You looked him over when his eyes suddenly shot open.

“Augh whAT THE FUCK!” You screamed as you flew back onto your ass on the floor as he threw himself upwards looking around. He looked around, a brow quirked down in confusion before he saw you, a human on the floor. Then he screamed.

“What the hell?!” He shot up to stand on your bed, banging his head on the low ceiling. He winced as he rubbed his head then looked back to you. A human, young looking, dressed in shorts and flannel that hug off your shoulder. “A human? Where the hell am I?” He questioned.

Instead of giving him an answer, you gasped as you stood up, yanked a pillow off your bed and swung it at him. “Get your nasty feet off my bed!” You shrieked as you wailed on him, somehow hitting his head and flinging him sideways off the bed to tumble to the floor. You gasped as you dropped the pillow and panicked as you grabbed your head. “Oh god, I just knocked something into the wall! What if I just killed a man?!”

As you panicked to yourself, scrambled around the room, you soon hopped over him and opened your bedroom door, running into the hall to grab a first aid kit from the bathroom, only to come back to the guy sat up and rubbing his jaw. You sighed in relief as you dropped to your knees next to him.

“That was rude, even for a human,” he hissed at you.

“Oh god, did I give you head trauma? You’re acting like your not human.”

“I’m not a human,” you blinked at him and his dead serious expression. His hand dropped from his jaw as his eyes blacked out and small fangs pushed at his lips and horns pushed out his forehead. His fingernails sharpened into claws as he cocked his head. “I’m a demon.”

That demon, named Jimin, decided that night that as compensation he would be rooming with you until he decided otherwise. With a fit from you and a steel will from him, he ended up winning. It’s been 4 months now since he dropped into your life. He was apparently kicked out of his demon homeland which he swore up and down wasn’t Hell.

It was odd having a demon around, to say the least. When you talked about your sudden roommate your friends, of course, wanted to meet them. When they met Jimin with his white smile and happy personality, people called him an angle. You offered an eyeroll with each compliment. Though, it was all true.

Jimin was a sweetheart. At first, he was cold, strict even. But one day, he just changed. It was like he saw you weren’t a bad person or something, but he started smiling and helping you around the dorm.

On the weekends when you weren’t engulfed in college, he would drag you out of making sure you stayed in the living room with him instead of your room. He had been booking it on the pull out sofa, as he denied your offers of getting him a real bed.

It was a Friday afternoon, and he sat jittery in the living room waiting for you. Normally you would be home by 3 if you didn’t have any evening lectures. As far as he knew, you didn’t. So, why weren’t you back when it was half past 5? It was a quarter til when you opened the dorm door with a sign. A sign that Jimin heard with his spiked hearing and had him jumping up to greet you at the door while you heeled off your shoes.

He gasped when he watched your pull off your jacket and saw a bruise on your arm and shoulder. It wasn’t hard to see how when Jimin came around and word of how you were rooming with a hot guy word got out and girls got a wee bit jealous.

Unnecessarily so.

“Y/n?” He questioned as you looked at him and smiled.

“Hey, sorry I’m late. I got food though. It’s cold, but we can heat it up.” You brushed by him, ignoring the elephant in the room that is your bruises he so noticeably took a negative interest in. He trotted after you as you soon pushed the food into the microwave.

Jimin stepped up behind you, throwing his arms over your shoulders to hang his hands in front of your chest. He didn’t deny the fact that he warmed up to you and started to care for you. He wanted to take care of you and keep you safe, so the bruise on your shoulder he pushed his lips on worried and angered him.

“Who did this to you? Who hurt you? Was it a group of girls again?” You sighed, obviously not wanting to talk about it. “Please tell me. Just once, you’ve never talked to me about this before. I just want to know.” That was a bit of a lie. He wanted to know so maybe he could put a stop to it.

“Jimin, it’s fine. Don’t worry about it.” You tried brushing off the issue once again. He sighed as he rested his chin on your shoulder as the microwave beeped, timer running out.

It was a week later when Jimin walked into our room when you were sleeping. You still hadn’t cracked to his questions, so he took the initiative. Kneeling at your bedside, he put his hand on your shoulder and started peering into your memories. Seeing a group of 3 girls push you around and throwing books at you, he got angry. Watching the scene from the past as he took his hand off you, seeing enough. He leaned over your bed and kissed your forehead.

“Let’s fix this.” The next morning, Jimin wasn’t in the dorm. Thining he stepped out, you shrugged as you got ready and left for classes. It was lunch when your friend Lisa ran to your side.

“Y/n! Why didn’t you tell us!” She whined as you looked at her confused, chopstick hanging out of your mouth.

“Tell you what?”

“That Jimin enrolled, duh!” You gasped, just as shocked as her.

“I didn’t know! What?!” You jumped when someone slung their arms over your shoulder and move to slid beside you on the bench you sat on. “Jimin?!” He laughed at your shock as you nearly dropped your chopstick completely.

“Why the shock? I can go to school too.” He smirked. You leaned in closer to him.

“But you’re a demon!” You whispered at him. He rolled his eyes, kissing your cheek.

“Demon’s need education too. Don’t be so simple-minded.” The rest of the day, he was basically your shadow. You were standing at your locker, swapping books when out of the corner of his eyes down the hall he saw the group of girls who turned you into a victim a week ago. He scowled as you noticed and looked down the hall following his eyes.

You gasped, hiding in your locker as they got closer. Jimin looked around, the hall was scarce, not many students. He grabbed your shoulder, pulling you out of your locker, slamming it shut and pinning you against them. You gasped as he leaned closer to you, nose brushing yours. The girls halted, watching the scene from afar with open mouths and whispers voices.

“Jimin?”

“God, you’re so beautiful,” he breathed before he kissed you.

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vaguely-concerned · 5 years ago

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TEMERAIRE LET’S READ: BLOOD OF TYRANTS, THE WILLIAM LAURENCE CHARACTER DEVELOPMENT NG+ SPEEDRUN

- oh NO LAURENCE D:D:D:

I do love that one of his first realizations is that he’s definitely not dutch tho lol this dumbass remembered that he was english before he remembered his own name

- caught between OH NO TEMERAIRE (and it’s only page 9 it’s going to be one of those books huh) and laughing my ass off at the thought of him swooping into notoriously isolationist japan and yelling ‘HAVE YOU GUYS SEEN MY DAD???’

- “Yes,” [Laurence] said, unyielding, as he could not be otherwise. ahahahahaha way to summarize the entirety of old school!laurence with one fucking sentence

(I am very much enjoying this uh. ‘setback’ of his character actually? novik really did just roll him back to factory settings and went ‘now... from the top again, let’s see if you’ve been paying attention these last seven books’ haha. no one told me there’d be a test!!!!!!!!!!)

- Kaneko really has the patience and graciousness of a saint, @ laurence please... please try to be marginally less sketchy hm? (I guess his sheer obliviousness to how direly he comes across here must be why kaneko hasn’t dismissed him out of hand)

- y’know... at least laurence is in no position to have to worry about all this shit temeraire and the others are pulling. when people start talking about black-scaled celestials shaking the country to its very foundations he’ll be blissfully, innocently unaware. that’s something, I suppose... well who am I kidding we’ll 100% get a couple of paragraphs of him convincing himself this is all his fault somehow anyway

- . . . and His Majesty’s Government does not behave in such an underhanded a manner as to attack another nation with no warning or quarrel. aha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha oh what a strange beautiful fantasy land you’ve been residing in for most of your life william laurence, hang on tight for the opium wars

- hahaha oh my god this is like a platonic version of that text post

temeraire: have you guys seen my dad??!?!

them: what does he look like?

temeraire, crying: beautiful and human and has gold buttons

- I take it all back old school laurence is such a tremendous idiot. just PRETEND you’re willing to cooperate at least you huge fuckign dummy, all you’d have to do was say something vague about how the ship can’t get too close to shore; it won’t actually help them and they’ll know it but you won’t make yourself look so unspeakably willfully suspicious

- :( making me read things where temeraire is just hurting should be ILLEGAL actually

- NO LAURENCE STOP TRYING TO KICK LITERALLY EVERY POLITICAL HORNET’S NEST WITHIN REACH BAD BOY he is... a disaster but I love him and fear for him as a son so here I am anyway

- hahahahaha yeah wow laurence it sure would suck if you ever had to commit treason huh death probably would be preferable indeed

b o i

- i like that it took him like a week to even give a single thought to edith lol at least he remains aggressively himself

- I think temeraire basically just invented dragon baby photos and I can’t even think for how darling it is

also every dragon physician is delightful; they fear neither god, man nor huge ass patients who could swallow them in a bite

aw man I love gong su

- ahahahahahahah kiyo is the actual best I can’t breathe

KANPAI INDEED, MY LADY, MY LIEGE, I DON’T CARE WHAT ELSE HAPPENS I WOULD FOLLOW YOU TO THE ENDS OF THE EARTH

Laurence was forced to at least moisten his lips in a show of accompaniment, and hope that he had indeed buried Caesar and not praised him, or for that matter raised him from the dead one act too soon; he was not perfectly sure. He did not think he had been this appallingly drunk since he had been a boy of twelve, trying to make good on every toast at his captain’s table. I. am. dying

thank you thank you thank you for the mental image of laurence drunkenly trying to stumble through the ‘friends, romans, countrymen’ speech as well as the entire rest of the play in a one-man performance

- oh no... I would die for junichiro, baby boy who loves his teacher SO MUCH ;____________; aaaaand there are laurence’s adoption instincts, I see, right on time <3 I like how they have had one actual conversation now and laurence is like ‘ah well nothing for it then guess you’ll have to stay on my ship and I’ll have to be your dad now, brash 16 year old child’

junichiro is being Full Teenager about laurence not knowing ~*obvious*~ things and it’s a delight

- y’know this period of japanese history is always portrayed in the west as paranoia and it could probably only be done because the country was a strict military dictatorship at the time... but having read oh, any history book ever, deciding that nope nah don’t think so no europeans ever is the greatest ‘fair enough’ in human history. (...I guess this series is sort of AU fix it fic of the period in the first place haha)

- seeing temeraire this level of straight out angry is very interesting and also very unsettling

- ooooof whenever laurence almost-remembers temeraire... stab me in the heart why don’t you

- man churki really is the mom friend of these dragons she’s the only one who has a lick of sense

- *laurence, upon clobbering several men with an oar* “Ma’am, I beg your pardon,” Laurence said to the old woman, who was still sitting ramrod-straight in the ferry over the side from him and regarding him with a flat expression of utter disapproval and not the least evidence of fear; he put out a boot over the side and shoved the ferry off with a heave

god this book is just a continual parade of glorious mental images, just this old woman glaring at him like ‘RUDE’ and “Ma’am, I beg your pardon” fdslfhsdlkjh

- I have a lot of sympathy for hammond. imagine having to navigate the extremely delicate diplomatic situation between europe and japan, with the real prospect of a war breaking out over it, while temeraire is looking over your shoulder... real dragon in the glassware shop vibe going on here, i’m sorry about your life hammond

- AUGH laurence just sort-of-remembered emily he just half-remembered he basically has a daughter someone hold me (...junichiro is so so sweet ;___;)

- bwahahaha yeah I’m sure the only reason this impressionable young kid who’s slowly becoming very impressed by you has for sneaking glances at your bare chest is manly appreciation of your battle scars laurence, well done (I mean a supremely understandable innocent teen crush to develop but stay safely out of that, kid; I trust tharkay to survive the sheer field of mayhem around this man only because he’s got like 20 years, extreme competency and a world of cynicism on you)

- aw junichiro :(:(:(

- ...laurence you need to stop making your dragon boi think you’re dead because this is hurting me. my heart lies in sad little pieces on the ground right now. you are stepping on them with tapdancing shoes.

- “I am under an obligation to Junichiro,” [Laurence] said, quietly, “who you must know has aided me for love of you. If I surrender myself and am made prisoner in this way, will your honor be satisfied?”

fdsfhsdkfsdja *ELMO SURROUNDED BY FLAMES GIF* this is all awful they’re all such good people why must this happen why this

(what a way to remind me why I love this stupid wonderful man so much tho uuuuuugh)

- “He is a prince of China, and my captain.” “The devil I am,” said Laurence. This might be the funniest heartbreak I have ever experienced

- good job making me cry whenever I read the words ‘principia mathematica’ naomi novik that was real nice of you

- maximus is such a solid bro. not the brightest, but by god a good 80% of that boy’s gigantic body mass is pure heart

- I love the sheer trollishness of just dropping all these hints about whatever’s going on in the US and then moving on like nothing has happened lol at least it’s deeply implied that hamilton squandered his chances at the presidency by pulling his dumb hoe act in this universe too... constants and variables friends constants and variables

- bOY for a moment there I really did wonder if junichiro was going to die, thank god for a quick google to stop my heart from leaping up my throat and out into thin air to shatter yet again on the flagstones beneath

- in unrelated news I recently found out a bit more about the whole historical Situation in Australia at the beginning of Tongues of Serpents (incidentally, by reading Mark Forsyth’s ‘A Short History of Drunkenness’, which is very funny and quite interesting although I can personally testify that the chapter about vikings at least is completely riddled with misunderstandings or straight out factual errors about the mythology, the role of women in society and uh the entirety of how poetry worked so maybe take him with a pinch of salt lol), and now, in retrospect, I have to say Novik does a poor job conveying the sheer hilarity and madness going on at that time. Like. I was quite bored in those first few chapters, whenever Tharkay didn’t have page time. how could you make this incredible spectacular shitshow boring. it should have been easy comedy gold and not just like. misery. oh well great times, let’s return to the book at hand

- I remain utterly devoted to Lady Kiyo. livin’ life, drinking sake, giving no fucks, absentmindedly scoping out the western style ships and starting an entire modern navy for her country, getting some Theater up in here.... truly I would follow her into the jaws of hell itself, safely in the knowledge that she’d find some way to have a good time down there

- kaneko tearing up at laurence promising he’ll take care of junichiro 😭 this is so cruel to me, personally, specifically against my person, I am undone

- I like how the incan dragons are told like ‘don’t pick just one special person; you can love all your humans equally’ while the poor japanese ones are told ‘actually don’t love any of your humans very much at least not more than Honour’ lol they must have so many neurotic dragons running about b/c that when that attachment happens it seems extremely central to their psychology (and considering lady arikawa it’s not like they’re exempt from it, they’re just supposed to repress it to conform)

- laurence desperately trying to work out whether emily’s his daughter without actually asking anyone... delicious

the descriptions of roland’s letters: even more delicious

- temeraire sees the sad remnants of laurence’s robes and ‘hello darkness my old frieeeeend’ starts playing in his head... too bad laurence isn’t really in a position to experience the relief

- He is very much a one-note character, but O’Dea’s resolute dedicated fatalism is extremely funny

- hahaha poor temeraire... when you try to introduce bae to the family and they insist on being TOTALLY EMBARRASSING god

- The guilt of having caused pain to one deserving only consideration at his hand mingled with unanswered disquiet. I’m bawling laurence’s dad instincts are so pure and good even tho everything’s a bit messed up right now. like this whole paragraph is so powerful b/c you can see laurence’s natural loving impulse at war with his dad’s cold authoritarian parenting style and because his lived experience is removed he doesn’t know what is right.............. oh b o y

- oh okay I see my earlier comment about the opium wars proves unexpectedly prophetic

- it cannot be overstated how much I love junichiro or how happy I am that laurence is being so soft and patient with him. this kid has Been Through some shit

- emily roland shoulder to shoulder with laurence killing fools and he never doubts her for a moment... *chef kiss emoji*

- the problem with these books is that there are just so many good characters and so many of them don’t get any real page time in any given one -- I’m sitting here plaintively like ‘I realize this is not the most pressing issue right now but how is demane and sipho doing. are they okay. does sipho have enough books’

- ouch memory loss isn’t stopping laurence from flashing back to victory of eagles :(

there’s something so disconcerting about knowing why laurence reacts to things the way he does when he doesn’t; novik is using that very efficiently, this is a very satisfying use of amnesia just from a writer’s POV haha

- I like how none of these suckers really have the tools (or in some cases even inclination) to understand how messed up junichiro’s political situation is in all this

they just expect him to come home to britain with them and meanwhile he’s just found out that The greatest threat to his nation (from his POV I mean china/japan relations irl seem uh complicated) has more dragons in one field than he’s ever seen in his life. it’s a rough and lonely deal being this kid in this book

- oh ouch yes hey there laurence there might have been... a little bit of treason. true. extremely justified treason tho. I mean. oh dear

we don’t have tharkay and his unique mix of deep cynicism, incisive sarcasm and surprising depth of concise moral clarity here to assist with the aftermath so this could get u g l y

- listen what did I SAY about making me read about temeraire being miserable :(((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((

- SIPHO!! hey baby boy pls have some thought for your brother’s cardiac health tho

- aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaw the fact that laurence is getting out of this crisis so much quicker this time because of his bone-deep instinctual knowledge of how much he loves temeraire, which doesn’t need specific memories to be true and felt. god. jesus. stars above

- laurence: approaches little

little: gay panic

- [Laurence] groped after the truth of himself like a prisoner in Plato’s cave, watching shadows. *clenches fist with great emotion* fuck naomi novik why must you be such an excellent goddamn writer im in pain

- oh hay arkady

poor poor temeraire feeling like a failure in every way is so awful but also kind of funny. ‘oh shit arkady’s egg oh fuck oh crap’

- I LOVE that hammond is so clearly and repeatedly shown to be a very astute political thinker and working shit out before everyone else! he may be a dumbass and a bit of a weasel but by god he’s great at what he does!

- laurence wouldn’t have changed anything if he could u guise. I . that. hm. oh

- thARKAY

.........arkady I am only a human and a small one at that but I will find some way to climb up there and wring your neck

(how cute is it that apparently jane roland realized she needed someone to find laurence and was like ‘well I need someone who can take care of themselves and knows the area and speaks dragon and Understands the chaotic ways of william laurence and also has looked uncharacteristically like a kicked puppy at the very mention of his name ever since being forced to leave him behind in australia.... hey tharkay you want a job’ fhkjshdfkalhsd)

- I’m very glad I googled ahead and spoiled myself a bit on this, because if I just read this part fresh I would have expired on the spot

- MISSION GET MY BOY BACK SAFE FOR GOD’S SAKE is a go

- general chu is pretty cool for an old dude you feel me

- . . . and Laurence knew him; knew him and knew himself.

ahahahahahahahhahahahahahahahahahahahhahahahahahahahahahahahhahahahahahahahahahahahhahahahahahahahahahahahhahahahaha

hahahahahahahhahahahaha

hahahahhha

haha

what... what pure undiluted soulmate nonsense is this. what. how. WHY would you do this

- I think I said something offhandedly in my victory of eagles reactions about how tharkay makes laurence remember who he is. I. thought I was exaggerating slightly for dramatic effect at the time. um wow

- I am having the sort of feelings about I need to write fiction about because my ability to express it any other way is failing me. That’s just about the highest praise I could give, really, Novik sure knows how to plant interesting seeds in her stories lol

- for the record this is not how I wanted him to end up in laurence’s bed

(im not thinking too much about how he got hurt b/c if I do I’ll start crying and that’ll just be embarrassing for everyone)

- “I hope you will forgive my mentioning it, Will,” Tharkay said, eventually, rousing Laurence from his reverie. “ -- I recognize there is a certain pot-calling quality to my doing so under the circumstances, but have you noticed that the top of your head appears likely to come off?”

a) my love for him is just. so pure. so complete. so deep b) consistent first name basis; the one sure way to make me swoon c) the implication that he’s just been quietly watching laurence while he was lost in thought... im so soft

- oh god laurence very gently helping out demane and roland because he remembers now....... i cry and my tears are blood welcome back buddy

- “I am of the opinion,” Tharkay said, “that you ought not assign to free will something more likely the consequence of a sharp blow to the skull.”

he truly is the gift that keeps giving. an endless cornucopia of sarcasm and delight. we do not deserve him.

- [The man he was eight years ago] would not have valued his own feelings, on such a matter, higher than the law and the discipline of the service. *AIRHORN AIRHORN AIRHORN* there we have it folks that’s literally his character arc spelled out, he would have done SO MUCH BAD SHIT because he thought his own feelings didn’t matter and yet he chose another direction, stupendous, brilliant, revolutionary

also him trying to get his support across to both of them in as roundabout and discreet way as possible... laurence you beautiful disaster

- im just so happ. so happy. so happy temeraire has his dumb dad back

- oh so the russians think the BRITISH, of all people, are too soft on their dragons... ruh-roh

- sdfskadlfj yes good tharkay the ROBES (also the implied depth of fond schadenfreude-tinged amusement contained in that ‘those particularly magnificent robes’.... *prayer hands emoji*)

laurence is like ET TU BABE?????

I think this is very delicate gong su speak for ‘please do not be a dumb bitch your majesty’

hahaha chu knows what’s up -- I am growing desperately fond of him, please don’t have him suffer any cop-one-day-from-retirement style accident

- “If I may cut your Gordian knot,” Tharkay said, with a glint in his eye. fdsklfhsdkflhdsakjfhdskjh remember back in black powder war when he was all closed off and phlegmatic and purposefully distant... and here he is... with a glint in his eye and a crazy ass plan that requires other people and that he actually shares before pulling it off and calling laurence by first name in public......... we’ve come so far

- Also this means he’s close enough to Laurence’s height and build that he can wear his clothes without it looking weird, which is nice to know because Laurence is sometimes more preoccupied with describing what men are wearing than, y’know, what they look like lol. (probably not quite as broad in the shoulders, tho, since it’s pointed out every time laurence is described that he has shoulders like a linebacker)

- temeraire: eXCUSE me god didn’t do this the emperor of china did???!?! rude???

- pffffffffff tharkay and chu being jaded world-weary bros for a second there... this is what I read these books for folks

- NOOOOOOOOOOO chu this is the one thing I asked you NOT to do D: temeraire being sad and scared about it is slowly murdering me, thank god laurence is back online for him

- dunno this napoleon dude sounds pretty great and all but this also sounds suspiciously... like trying to invade russia in the winter time. immovable force and unstoppable object or something. I mean I don’t read history so I don’t know. might be a great idea. who’s to say.

- I see that tharkay and laurence have reached the ‘communicating complex information solely through eyebrow movements’ stage of their relationship. *drinks this excellent excellent OTP juice with both hands*

- god I love how cool temeraire!napoleon is, in a strangely believable way. he’s just so weirdly charismatic and novik is SO GOOD at setting up a situation so you understand just how brilliant a move he’s made whenever he seems to be backed into a corner and turns it all around. I kind of want him to win at this point (though tbf all of europe fucking sucked at this time so like he doesn’t have to doll it up TOO much to look better by comparison haha)

- boooyyyy Laurence is P I S S E D (also him being like ??? :D that the general basically agreed with him lol)

ALSO also the fact that laurence does not realize that he’s like the fucking horror story all the major authorities around the globe tell each other at night... fjksdfhsdkjlhf

ah russia. truly consistently one of the most shit places to be a peasant or apparently a dragon through so much of history.

- junichiro Y__________Y no wonder laurence is so protective of him, he’s finally met someone as stubbornly stupidly ~*honorable*~ as himself. godspeed bb boy I wish you only the best even though I know your story line is never properly brought up again

- I ship... roland and demane... so much. like with my heart. she’s so young and earnest and curious and misses him so much and casually scandalizes alice about it fsjdakfjhds

- well I mean. dragons eating people is clearly not g r e a t but also... karma. y’know?

- this is a lot of words to use to convey the sentiment ‘oh they are all so fuuuuuuuuuuuuucked’ naomi novik

(feels a little like she wrote herself into a corner here tho -- she’s set up such an impossible situation, in RUSSIA in the WINTERTIME, that I’d need a hell of a lot of convincing to believe they get out of it)

- aaaah okay I really enjoyed this one too, especially the first half! I feel like this series is often at its most inspired when it sticks to a tighter character focus (for example I still vividly recall the part in the first book where Laurence stays in his father’s house and it’s Bad. relatedly........ F U C K lord allendale), and this brought that in spades. I love this series so much, it’s shamefully underappreciated in the speculative fiction world.

also it brought *me* to my knees with a simple “Tenzing,” [Laurence] said, which... holy shit. fuck. damn. that’s my personal recommendation of this book, tbh, even beyond my wish for this series to be more appreciated within the genre: Tharkay was there and it was very gay and non-obnoxious soulmate vibes???? I never even thought it could be done but here we are

This is probably going to be my last reaction thingy for the foreseeable future, since my local library doesn’t have book 9 and honestly... having read a few summaries of what happens in it I’m not that keen on reading it? That’s not the ending to this story I want, so I’ll just live over here in denialville, I-realize-the-author-made-the-choice-to-not-make-further-use-of-Lien-AKA-THE-coolest-antagonist-in-this-series-and-indeed-did-not-wrap-up-numerous-character-arcs-or-plot-lines-but-I-don’t-like-this-choice-so-I’ll-ignore-it

(actually I do sort of appreciate the idea of not having one grand final duel or something, because that’s not how it usually works in real life, but that she’d just shrug and not mercilessly hunt for the revenge she’s so clearly motivated by when everything she loves is falling apart around her again... that’s too much of a letdown to bear, really)

let me just... live in willful ignorance and pretend anything could happen from this point onward haha.

- let me give a final shout out to my boy gong su, who’s been hanging around since book 2 (!) and yet we do not know One Single personal detail about him for certain except that he sure knows how to handle knives. that’s some good spy shit right there, he knows what he’s about

#temeraire #blood of tyrants #willzing #william laurence x tenzing tharkay #aaaaaaaaand last one for a while! I had a lot of fun with this one even though I lost focus for weeks at a time at some points haha #that's not the book's fault that's very much a me problem

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wonttokee · 7 years ago

Text

IN BETWEEN PT 4

pairing ; Wonho x Reader x huyngwon

Genre : thriller , AU

status ; on going

You waked up panicking ,looking around you. Apparently, you had fallen asleep on the couch of the nursery room .Changkyun placed a cup of water on the table in front of you “ you’ve been tossing in your sleep , and sweating a lot too , are you okay? “ “Chang.. how long have you been here ?” he gulped down his water “ ..enough for me to know that you are struggling with something “ he sat down next to you and rest his arms on your shoulders “ what’s wrong “ “nothing really … its just work “ “ hey , we have been friends for almost two years you can’t lie to me “ you sighed , knowing that he was right , talking to him made more relaxed “ I- I don’t know it’s Hoseok he’s umm ..I’m thinking about him a lot “ your friend nodded slowly , trying to understand your situation “ well I’m here If you wanna talk Y\n you know that “ you smiled at him “ I know “ “ was that nightmare you had earlier about him ?”you snapped at his question ,the dream you had “no..no that dream was about me “ Changkyun eyebrows pinched together “ what ?” you pulled your hair back while you talked “ i-I was in the water , I was drowning and it was so dark and cold and …I was just there … I did not try to pull my self out “ “ why ? “ “because .. there was someone I was believing that will pull me out “ Changkyun was looking at you now with concern “ those hand .. the one held me did not pull me out , they tried but I think they couldn’t “ “ wait … they ? “ “ their were two persons holding me “

Hoseok was waiting for you with more relaxed expression and he gave you a mall smile when you entered “well you look good Mr.Shin , slept well “ “Hoseok , call me Hoseok from now on “ his smile became even brighter your heart skipped a beat “Okaay..Hoseok, how are you today ? “ I think I’m fine , Y\N ?” you raised your eyebrows “ thank you for listening to me , you are the first person to do so “ you smiled “ and I think in the first person to un cuff you , right ? , I think you are gonna be fine with out these “ you took off the cuffs made his hand a little bit loosen and off pain , he then offered his hand , and you accepted them he squeezed yours a little bit while looking into your eyes “ I know … I’m not making much progress and after listening to me you think I’m truly insane and “ you shushed him quietly “ Hoseok , you are not , you are a good man and I believe in you “ you rest your palm on his face , he felt so soft and squishy “ I know it’s hard , I just need you to try harder, you only told me about the fight , can you at least tell me who he was ? “ he looked down “ he was.. my best friend , my only , actually “ he chuckled nervously , but his eyes suddenly started to drown with tears , he was somehow angry about what happened and he can’t explain why deep down inside you knew there was something more than that , something hidden for some reason “ when its time ,I’m gonna tell you more” “…okay” does that means he remembered something already and did not tell me about it ? “ but you can tell me a name ?” he shook his hand in refuse immediately “ I can’t “ “why ?” “ …maybe later” “….okay” Hoseok attacked you with his adorable smile out of a sudden , planting roses in your cheeks “well then i- I’ll be back in a minute I’ll get some papers done - “ “Y\N” you name from his lips made you breathless “ can you hug me ?” you froze from the shock for a second but still you faced him and chained him with his arms and so he did and you could feel how strong he is , how warm he is you could fall asleep in his arms he pulled you closer and held you tight from you waist , he rest his head on your shoulder and stayed like this for a while and you did not mind , he somehow smelled like candies and you like that . You almost dozed off when he whispered to you , making your heart beat fast “please , stay by my side “

You went outside right to the bending machine and took three bottles of water to drank them all at once to put the fire inside you off . your face was still burning you could tell that you were feeling something as you were falling to him , slowly but easily , how could you not ? he is a visual that’s true but somehow its wrong , he is in need for your help and you are afraid from breaking his heart and make his situation worse but you couldn’t stop your heart to beat crazily when you see him , his smile , you shook him from your thoughts and gulped down the rest of your water until you choked yourself with it . you started to cough out loud like an old man with a bad cold . A hand slammed your back to let you breath again “AUGH GAWD !!!” “wao !! sorry , you almost die I thought I might help “ his voice was smooth and quite while he rubbed your back . You turned to face a tall young man with a white coat on and a white shirt with the first three buttons loosen exposing a little bit of his jaw line , your jaw ajar a little bit from this beautiful sight , you looked silly that he laughed a little one when he saw your expression “ are you okay now ? “ he pushed his light pink hair to the back “yea, yeah I’m fine , thank you for slamming my back my eyes almost popped off but still ..” he chuckled “ glad to help “ looking at him you realized that you never saw him before “ you are new here ?” “yes this is my second day !” “ oh really , well I’m Dr.Y\F\N welcome around !” he smiled and accepted your hand that you offer “I’m Chae Huyngwon ,nice to meet you .”

#Monsta X #monsta x fanfic #monbebe #starship #destroyer #huyngwon #wonho #hoseok #AU #thriller #kpop #fanfic #kpopfanfic #angst #paitient #love #triangle

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what-even-is-thiss · 7 years ago

Text

The Four Seasons, Missing

AAAAAAHHH! I’m finally writing more of this! And there are mortals in it this time! Well, barely. So, if you’re just catching up, this is more of the Norse Mythology/Seasons au for the sanders sides. Here is the first one I wrote, and here is the origins story. Reminder: Roman is summer, Anxiety is fall, Logic is winter, and Morality is spring, and their ages are in that same order. Forgive me for using google translate. Okay, let’s do this.

Tip Jar

Warnings: None I can think of. 2,086 words.

Abstract: A modern day myth. The myth of an abnormal year.

Autumn walked over yet another building. The summer was extremely hot this time around. He was in the mood to cut it short, if only he could find him.

“Where are you, you prep?” He mumbled to the desert landscape.

Autumn removed his hoodie and held it over himself as a shade. The hot Arizona heat was making him irritable. He caught a breeze and rode it to the top of the Chase Tower, the tallest building in the city. From there he scanned the city streets, looked out into the suburbs, and looked out at the mountains. He sensed nothing.

Autumn glided down to the hot cement below, mumbling curses to himself. This summer, his highness, as he and the others often called him behind his back, had not returned home once. The cabin was usually hot and dry this time of year, but not this hot. The trees were beginning to become dehydrated, which was beginning to make Spring distressed. Autumn had to cut this off now.

Autumn knew about Phoenix. He knew how hot Summer let it get here, but somehow this year was worse. It had been over a hundred and ten degrees Fahrenheit for over a week. Even for Phoenix that was a bit much. He had to be around here. He had to be.

Reluctantly, Autumn ducked behind a building on his walk and tied the hoodie around his waist before making himself visible to the mortal eye. He was going to regret this. He just knew it.

Humans. So many humans, even with the heat. He leaned against a tree and tried to psych himself up to talk to someone.

Ugh. This was hard for him. Spring and Summer talked to mortals all the time. Summer flirted and made friends and went to parties. Spring played with children and playful adults and complimented random people. Winter didn’t talk much, but if he wanted to or needed to he had no problem. Autumn, on the other hand, was terrified of approaching people.

He swallowed hard. Just talk to one. Summer loved showing himself to mortals and it is really hot here. Its really likely he’s been here.

He began walking up to humans and fighting through his social anxiety to talk to them. None of them he talked to had seen a guy that kind of looked like him but in a gold jacket and white shirt or skater t-shirt or something wearing sunglasses.

After a while he simply couldn’t take the heat anymore and felt like he was going to pass out, so Autumn rode the winds home.

He opened the door noisily with his hoodie tied around his waist. It was over a hundred and ten degrees outside. In here it was only ninety.

“Shut the door! Shut it!” Came an irritated voice from the other side of the large one room hall.

Winter was sitting on his bed with his shirt halfway unbuttoned looking like he wanted to kill someone as Spring set up another fan next to him and he held a bag of ice to his head.

Autumn closed the big wooden door.

“Hey, big brother!” Spring said happily despite the sweat sitting on his forehead. “Any luck?”

“Afraid not. His highness, lord of deserts and drunken beach parties is nowhere to be found.”

“Did you check Phoenix?” Winter asked.

“Yes. I spent a good portion of today in Phoenix. I was saving it for last though because you know how I hate that place when he’s in charge.”

“Whyyyy do mortals even live there?” Winter groaned. “Augh. Its even worse than here.”

Fall went to a freezer in the corner and pulled a bag of ice out before throwing it at Winter who caught it despite his diminished reflexes.

“Why don’t you go to Canada or something? Man, you morons hardly ever leave the house when its not your season. Canada is nice this time of year by both of your standards.”

“What about by your standards?” Spring asked.

“You know the answer to that. Nothing impresses me.”

“What about Led Zeppelin? Winter asked, holding the new bag of ice to his forehead.

“Hey, Jimmy Page was hot. You can’t blame me for going to a lot of their concerts.”

“Was?” Spring said in confusion.

“I was going to lead into something but I don’t remember what.” Winter said, taking off his glasses and rubbing his head.

“You were talking about Led Zeppelin.” Spring said helpfully, getting Winter to lie down and putting a damp washcloth on his brother’s forehead.

“Ah, correct. The heat is dulling my senses.”

“What else is new?” Autumn murmured under his breath.

“I was going to mention that you spent a lot of time following them around during their 1975 tour. You barely remembered to find Summer that year to stop him, and I actually had to find you to get you to relinquish control.”

Autumn folded his arms, indicating that he was both annoyed and thinking.

“So, you’re thinking that our big bro has a new boy toy he’s stalking?”

“Correct. And if he gets distracted, well…”

‘Drought!” Spring said excitedly.

“Spring, buddy, that’s a bad thing.” Autumn said as patiently as he could.

“Uh, drought. Noooo.” Spring said, trying to sound more upset.

“There we go.” Said Autumn.

“Just find him!” Winter complained.

“Well, if he’s got a new crush there’s only one person to talk to.” Autumn said.

Spring audibly gasped. “You don’t mean?”

“Yup. Her. And you’re coming with me. She hates you the least.”

“Oh sure. Perfectly reasonable to just leave the one who relies on cold to survive at the house during summer.” Winter said.

“Quit your passive aggressive moaning and go cause some mayhem in Australia or something.” Autumn said. “Come on, Spring. We need to call in a favor.”

Freja sat on her throne of wood, looking in a hand mirror, putting on eyeliner. She did not want to go into battle looking like she had just rolled out of bed.

Suddenly there was a whoosh of mixed warm and cold air and it was so distracting her hand slipped. A line of liquid eyeliner was now going down the right side of her flawless face.

“Who DARES…” she began before seeing who it was.

“We dares.” Said Autumn, waving with two fingers pointing up and pressed together. “Sup?”

“Hiiiiii!” Spring said. “Woah, your makeup’s looking a little out of line there, isn’t it?”

“Would you… not make puns when we’re here on business?” Autumn asked.

“I can’t help myself. I just have to spring into it.” Spring said, a huge goofy grin on his face.

“Pardon me, but why are you here? Whenever you show your faces it never means anything good.” Freja said, fishing around in her purse for a makeup wipe.

“Well, you’d be right about that!” Spring said happily.

Freja looked at him in confusion. “How can a god be that powerful and stupid at the same time?”

“Ya met Thor?” Autumn said, raising his eyebrows in a condescending manner.

“Fair enough. Why are you here? You hardly ever talk to the gods.” Freja said, beginning the process of fixing her eyeliner.

“Summer’s gone missing.” Spring said.

Freja’s hand slipped again and the makeup wipe flew down to her blush, undoing a lot of the work she had done there.

“What? You cannot find him?” She said. “But you are the only ones that can keep track of each other.”

“And it gives me stress.” Spring said, his smile unwavering.

“Same.” Autumn added.

“So why are you telling me this? I am a very busy goddess.” She said, removing the rest of her makeup because what was the point anymore

“We think he’s found a new boy toy.” Autumn said. “That’s usually enough to distract him.”

“Is this anything like what happened with Jimmy Page?” She asked.

“So she does know! Alright!” Spring said as Autumn blushed a deep pink that showed through his pale makeup.

Freja thought for a moment. “Yes, I think he is infatuated with someone, but I can never pinpoint any of you. Unless you’re standing right in front of me.” She said, gesturing angrily to them.

“Well, you’ll have a story to tell all your friends.” Autumn said. “That’s all we seem to be, really. Conversation starters.”

“But not with Ægir.” Spring said.

“Yeah, not with him.” Fall agreed.

“I think I might be able to tell you which continent though. If I concentrate hard enough. But why would I do that for you? I have to fight a bitch that was insulting my outfit the other day. He is going down.” Freja said, murder building in her steely blue eyes.

“Fighting people isn’t nice.” Spring said matter-of-factly.

“I’m a war goddess. Now get moving. You look like a young suburban dad and a tacky hot topic customer.” She scoffed.

“You’re going to help us.” Autumn said, folding his arms as a threat grew in his deep brown eyes.

“And why is that, tall, dark, and brooding?”

“Because we know just how many dwarfs you’ve slept with for jewelry and one time I hid a cursed hat for you.” Spring said happily.

“We see a lot of things, girlie. Remember what happened when you got that?” Fall said, getting close to her and pointing at the intricate amulet hanging around her neck. “Odin made you start war among men to get it back. What’s he gonna make you do if he finds out you’ve been doing that same thing for over five thousand years? Something much worse than war, I’m guessing.”

“And if we can’t find Summer its only gonna get hotter. We have you cornered!” Spring added happily.

“He is… much less stupid than Thor.” Freja remarked nervously.

“And a lot more dangerous than he looks.” Autumn admitted.

Summer sat on a bench staring longingly at the young man that had fallen asleep next to him. Yes, this was perhaps the best month he had experienced in many decades. He brushed back the man’s braids to get a better look at his dark face. So perfect, so…

“France, huh?” Said a voice behind him. “I didn’t know you liked French boys.”

Summer jumped. It was Fall. The boy sitting next to him was startled awake and began making some surprised declarations in French.

“ Þú ættir að byrja að keyra” Autumn said, a playful threat in his voice.

Summer did start running. He flew through the streets of Paris, never stopping for an instant. He crossed the river in one bound, but the second oldest followed closely behind.

Summer ducked behind buildings and between mortals, invisible to their eyes. He thought about making his way into the French countryside, but that always just made it easier for the other. Autumn was faster than him.

Some years the chase went on for days or weeks. This was not one of those years.

Autumn sat happily on Summer’s back, pinning him down.

“Well, right under the Eiffel Tower. Don’t think I’ve ever caught you here before. I’ll have to add this to the list. Statue of Zeus, Taj Mahal, Battle of Chickamauga, and the Eiffel Tower.”

“Why do you always include the battle on there?” Summer asked, fighting his way up.

Autumn let him go. “Because you refuse to run around interesting places. Its a short list. By the way, next time don’t get so distracted.”

Summer put his sunglasses on. “You’re one to talk, Led Zeppelin.”

“That was one time! Uh, I have to get to work. You made it pretty hot.”

“Oh really?” Summer asked, looking at his younger brother over his sunglasses.

“Not like that! You’ve doomed the west coast for several years to come! I hate it when you do that. This is the dust bowl all over again.”

“Hey, I was really drunk. I don’t even remember most of 1930.”

“Oy. Just go home.” Autumn said.

Summer did go home. As soon as he opened the door he was greeted by a book to the face that knocked him over completely.

“What!?” He yelled.

“Welcome home.” Winter said, giving him a hand up.

“I hate you.” Summer said, taking the hand.

“Spring is out visiting a mortal friend. Do you want to watch a movie?”

“Can it be Pixar?’ Summer asked, rubbing the bump on his head.

“Yes, but I get to choose which one.”

“So, Wall-E then.” Summer said, opening the cupboard looking for jiffy pop.

“Precisely.”

#sanders sides #seasons au #sanders sides seasons au #norse mythology au #thomas sanders #prince sanders #roman sanders #anxiety sanders #morality sanders #patton sanders #logic sanders #logan sanders #fanfic #fan fic #fanfiction #fan fiction

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cutegirlmayra · 8 years ago

Note

Soulmate au is when the 2 characters are meant to be in a more magical way? like, maybe they were born with a mark that helps them find their other half or destiny wants them together, you know what I mean? is like... like the red string of fate! their souls are bonded together. I am not the same anon that ask about the soulmate au, just want to let you know what it was :P

Thank you my friend!

I did some research and found out more about Soulmate Aus! :D

I’ve decided to combined ‘Hearing your name from the Soulmate’ and ‘Having trouble being away from soulmate and having to come back because of longing struggles’. I hope that works xD

(x)

Prompt:

Amy heard the crowd cheer out his name.

Her eyes flicked, something about it felt right, but she wasn’t sure why.

Looking around the crowd, she peeked her head out to see a bunch of rescued flickies being released from a contraption of sorts… a blue boy bouncing on a yellow button to free them.

He posed, hands on his hips with the back of his wrists. His head held high, cocky and confident.

He folded his arms as he smirked for the photos.

She couldn’t help but stare…

She wondered if this was love at first sight.

—

Later, after some tarot card reading, she took off for Palm Tree Panic. Before this, this was a quiet girl, expected to marry and just be a stay-at-home kinda wife. You know, with that dainty kinda life.

But the second she drew forth his name in her throat, the second the syllables formed, she knew.

“Sonic!”

She felt her heart race and something rise from her feet, forcing her to skid with her heels to stop herself.

It was like a truck flew upward and sped out of the ground and up through her body; bringing the sensation with it as it hit hard and swiftly. Completely knocking her clueless as a bubbly sensation of fizzing wonder floated up her stomach and stopped her breath.

What on earth was this?

The boy turned around, his face frozen.

Had he felt it too?

She walked a little closer, though the name rang through her mind and her body was lit up with a warmth again, a pure and underlying longing came to her to be closer and say his name again.

“…Sonic?”

This time, she watched him jitter from his knees up to his nose, having the vibration carry as slapped his two hands to his nose, and blinked, in shock.

His quills bristled, much like her own, and she thought for a second…

Her soulmate?

“Son-”

“Stop!!!”

She plugged her mouth with both hands, about to step forward but became to afraid too.

She desperately wanted to finish speaking his wonderful name, to hear that glorious ring and feel that amazing rush!

But the boy looked afraid…

“I’m sorry…” she softly spoke, but didn’t let this awkwardness continue.

She bounced up and happily did a small sway of her body, having her arms follow the gesture before her hands covered her face in shy fists again.

She blushed, and pulled them down again.

“I’m Amy.” she stated. “Amy Rose.”

She repeated this, just to be certain…

If him saying her name caused the same sensation then.

“…A…EM.” he cut himself off, looking down.

He was clearly uncomfortable, as he slowly moved a leg back, shaking as his whole body wanted to try and say her name too.

He tried to get away, walking like an uncomfortable march, as if something was between his legs, giving him a wedgie. This uncomfortable walk was because his legs had almost gone completely limp, and his heart was pounding while some strange sensation of fire and water boiled within him uncontrollably.

It was confusing and scary.

“Wait!” Amy called, holding a hand out and looping an arm around his arm, nuzzling up to it as she once again swayed herself closer, making him lean his head back.

He sweated as she batted her eyes.

“Uhhh…”

“Did you feel that too?” she inquired, before giggling and looking like a smarty-pants, but trying to be alluring.

She tilted her head down and continued her flirtation, or what she could pass off as flirting…

“If you felt that by me saying your name… then you must feel the same when you say mine!” she cheerfully stated, squeeing a moment as she released his arm and shook back and forth, her face covered again, acting coy.

“Eee! How embarrassing!”

“U-…Um…” Sonic kept sweating profusely, feeling suddenly too hot and faint, he kept trying to inch away… moving backwards as he did so, trying to not startle the strange girl that sent an odd feeling through him. “E-embarrassing?” He spoke through gritted teeth in a fake smile, his eyes slightly showing how crazy he thought this all was.

“Well, yes!” Amy kicked a leg up and swung it behind her, placing her two hands clutched tightly together and up by her side as she closed her eyes.

Her head looked up to the sky, as she sighed- “Because if it is so, then we’re soulmates! And you’ll never want to be apart from me-!”

A sudden gust of wind, and she blinked her eyes open, looking ahead.

“AH!” she gasped, offended as her arms swished down through the air and shook by her sides, seeing him take off without her…

“Ohhh…! The nerve! I’ll have to teach you some manners! Come back here!” she stomped her foot down, the wind kicking up, as she suddenly took a deep breath.

“SOOONNNIIICCC!!!!”

This time, the sensation changed.

She giggled, suddenly feeling like she was being tickled, and then, a massage that completely relaxed her… her eyes looking to enjoy the feeling, her feet digging into the ground as if someone had scratched behind her ears. She blushed before an electrical circuit of sorts traveled up her spine and exited through each individual quill, making her let out a cry of delight before shaking her quills back in place from being elated upwards.

“It HAS to be my soulmate!” she chimed, overjoyed! “My hero~” she swooned, instantly in love with the idea!

She suddenly dropped her arms and looked shocked again, “Oh my goodness!” she exclaimed.

“Now we’ll have to get married!” she threw her arms up, jumping in her glee, “Yeee~ I’m gonna be Sonic’s wife!” the same tingling, but on a lighter level now, still noticeable though.

“You are not!”

She suddenly blinked her eyes open from her dreamy state, and looked over across the way.

The boy was trembling, his eye twitching, as he was clearly feeling the effects from her call.

She had no idea if the sensation was doubled because it was his name or not, but she enjoyed the feeling it gave her.

She smiled, happily, before putting an innocent finger to her mouth and ducking her head down.

—

Playing innocent, eh?

Sonic growled in his mind’s thoughts, ticked off he was triggered so easily.

What was this!? A soulmate!?

PAH!

Like he, Sonic The freakin’ Hedgehog, would have any need of any woman-partner!

Bleh.

He felt the sensations finally leave.

Good.

Though they died down slowly…

Ugh.

The feeling lingered a bit but he ignored it, or at least tried to as he folded his arms and rolled his eyes.

“Don’t tell me you believe in those stupid mythologies!”

“Myth… Mythologies!? Ah!” she looked deeply offended, and her open mouth expression made him snicker.

Oh good.

He could have fun messing with this one…~

He thought that with deliberate glee, motioning his fingers in a wave on his arm, smirking down at her, a devil’s look of wicked pleasure in his eye.

A soulmate?

More like a nuisance! He couldn’t have ‘soulmate’ on an adventure! Please! She’ll break a claw.

He teased and mocked her, leaning up from his first expression to lower his eyelids, sizing her up and unfolding his arms to place them judgingly on his hips.

She’s not even all that.

He dropped his smile.

If she WAS his soulmate, wouldn’t she be more than pretty?

His face suddenly dropped, looking up and off into the distance.

Did he just think that?

Pretty?

He shook his head.

Nah, man! It’s gotta be the sensations! Ah-! N-not like he believed that stuff was real though, anyways!!! And even if it was-

He spat at the ground, lifting a leg up exaggeratedly to do so.

He would fight it till the day he died! Just in spite of it all!

“Do yourself a favor, Pinky.” he didn’t dare call her by her name. “Eggman’s afoot, and I wouldn’t want ya gettin’ hurt. Just run along home and forget about me, alright? Thanks for being a fan though, see ya!” he leaned forward, using the hand motion to ‘shoo’ her away as he flapped it back and forth a moment, looking like he didn’t care as he saluted a ‘cool-dudes’ goodbye and was about to take off.

His leg was positioned right.

His hands were curled and ready to reel forward.

He could almost feel the awkward moment dissipating behind him before-

“But..! Ohh.. I don’t have a home.” She ducked her head down, her sudden soft eyes revealing a helplessness Sonic’s eyes couldn’t ignore.

His eyes had shifted back, just by hearing the shift in tone.

He glared forward, sweating..

‘Don’t let her get to you, Sonic…’

He frowned, though his kind heart was starting to show…

He tried to bury it deep, telling himself it wasn’t safe for her anyway, but then again…

Why did he care?

“Augh.” he threw his arms up, relaxing and leaning forward in a hunch, before turning back to her.

She wasn’t trying to be annoying… she was just looking for her hero.

He pouted, looking up again and away from her.

“You really don’t have anyone? Not one single person who gives a care about you at all?”

The harshness wasn’t meant to be so… well… apparent.

But the poor girl seemed to shrink away, her fingers starting to roll over each other in nerves, and a look of pity suddenly came over her.

“I… I guess not.” She felt rejected, and by her soulmate?

Harsh…

Wait, what!?

Sonic shook his head.

Don’t start that again!

“Ahh, come on! I can’t stand to see you sulk all of a sudden from being sunshine and rays a moment beforehand. Dang, I’m getting soft.” he scratched the top of his head, turning away as if to dismiss his sudden kindness, but she raced at lightspeeds up to him, shocking him at her agility, before tacking him down the tall hill he was on.

“Woah-hey-waaiiitt!”

as they tumbled, he felt a sudden pull to make sure he took any damage instead of her.

This was normal though, as he was used to defending others, but…

His hand wrapped around her waist, and he seriously focused on getting upright, jumping up and holding her bridal style, looking on.

He was suddenly aware of his strange maneuvering of having her in his arms, and blinked, looking down as if that was pure instinct…

She smelled… good… AH!

He shook his head and flailed his arms about, letting her go on the ground as she stared at him, wide-eyed in admiring love for him.

Or so he thought.

He clutched his hand to what felt like a about to burst out heart, as if willing it to stay in there.

“Look, just leave me alone, okay? You’re better off on your own.” he started walking ahead, dusting his arms off of her… ugh, scent and the feeling of her soft fur and- Grr.. he’s got strange thoughts now!

He took off, darting forward and moving through the stage.

When he felt he was far enough away, he relaxed, sighing in relief and started stretching.

“Let’s never have to go through that again…” He muttered to himself, before a strange feeling of guilt came over him.

Amy…

“Amy Rose!”

She had said that.

A strange allure of longing… followed by deep, profound impulses and urges to hold her again, took over and created a quake in his hands, as he held them out in front of himself, watching as they tensed and shook by just the thought of her name, the memory of her in their possession…

“W-wo-wo-woah… what’s happening to me?” Sonic, feeling the odd thoughts start to swarm, rapidly started having his body shake, and he slowly pulled his hands up to his withdrawn head.

His eyes widened as he twitched slightly, his feet wanting to go back, his body feeling queasy…

Suddenly…

“I found you!”

“WAH!”

He flinched away but she caught onto him.

Instantly, a volcanic eruption sent a signal boost throughout him, and a wave of relief followed by a gentle pressure release gave him the sensation of a pleasant nap. At least, he wasn’t sure how to describe it either than that.

To his inexperience, he thought he had a heart-attack followed by heat stroke and a sudden condition of anxiety induced cerebral palsy.

His body wasn’t coordinating and he was helpless to fight her off.

He just looked up, his nose twitching so he rubbed it to try and excuse himself from this mess.

Should he… really let her tag along?

How’d she catch up to him so fast anyway?

Was she able to really be his..?

“Please don’t leave again! You scared me!” Amy stated, shaking her head. She started leaning up and whining slightly, the tone of her pitch right in his ear sent a goofy smile on his face, and suddenly his foot started thomping the ground like some kinda thumping in glee.

He must have lost his mind.

“If you leave, I’ll be drawn back to you! So that’s mean to make me long for you like that!” she shook him up, but his face just showed complete surrender to the ecstasy.

He’d never felt this dumb before.

“Um.. miss, could you not… haha…” he was meaning for her to do this to him, but she just let him go, thinking he meant the shaking.

“Opps! My bad. hehe.” she giggled, having a hand up by her mouth, “I forget my own strength sometimes..”

“Your strength is… strong.” he was still wobbly, still goofy face, before he shook himself out of it and looked really upset.

“Ble-blr-blr-blr-GRUFF. Hey! What’s the big idea?!” He was starting to lose his temper…

Amy ‘eep’d, covering her face slightly, but peering over gloved hands, leaning away.

“Look, I don’t have time to play with little girls.” he leaned his face forward,.. but was that really just the pull?

His fist came up to make a point… or was it his hand wanting to be closer to reaching for her again?

“Like I said before. Eggman’s hunting more flickies, and I don’t have time to waste around and mess with you! Scram, kid! I’m a loner! And always will be!” he flung his hand out and stated his point bluntly, before taking off.

“Oh, wait!” Amy desperately cried out, “Son-!”

“Oh, and another thing.” Sonic came speeding back, placing a finger on her mouth, and turning his head with an eye squinted and the other having it’s eyebrow up, as if he was pointing out another thing…

“Don’t call me back! It’s weird! And you’re better off with some prince charming. Trust me!” he removed the finger, but the touch was suddenly something he couldn’t ignore…

“You.. you alright with that?”

She had ducked her head down, covered in shadows.

“…H-hey… you aren’t crying are ya… Miss?” He bent his head down, refusing to speak her name.

—

Anger swarmed through her.

Her true love, her soulmate.

Rejecting her so cruelly.

Didn’t he know this was a once in a lifetime opportunity?

Soulmates couldn’t be apart without desperately longing for the other, and saying each other’s name was suppose to give a forever strength to their bond, a never-ending love that only grew and grew as the name was spoken by them.

She found him… and he was telling her to buzz off.

Like she couldn’t follow him.

She could play hero too!

She rose her head up, determined.

“I CAN PROVE IT!” She hollered in his face, making him move back and blink in utter disbelief.

“P-prove?” He gawked, “Prove,… what? Exactly?” he leaned forward with his hands on his hips again, feet together, looking curious but confused at her words.

“I can prove soulmates are real!”

He must have admired her gusto, Amy thought.

Cause he stood up straight, turning slightly to the side with his body angled, and folded his arms, giving her a formidable look…

“Oh, you can, can you.”

“Yes! I can! I’ll prove it right now!” she stepped boldly up towards him, toe to toe, as he looked down at the foot positioned out to her, the other on the side, and then back up with just his eyes.

“You for real, girl?”

“Say my name!”

His head shot up and his hands unfolded, horror and shock coming over his face, before tensing it up and having a snarl replace his frown, a look of contempt in his eyes.

“Come again?”

“I’m sick of you denying it! You know if you said my name, you’d feel it too! You couldn’t run or.. or hide from it anymore!” she shouted out, letting her voice fill the zone as he twitched his fist, tsking…

“Pfft. As if.” He leaned back up, trying to not take this seriously.

“I’m on a very important mission. I don’t have time for your silly games, lady!”

“AMY!”

He froze a second, twitching an eyelid down as if he was bracing himself, lifting an arm as if he had expected that to do something to him.

“See! You moved!” Amy pointed out, “Say it and you’ll know!”

“I… I don’t believe you! Or in your magic jargon of silly love stories!” He defended, but he was sweating again, nervous…

“Do it!” She wasn’t backing down, her face right at his, making him stagger back.

“Uhh…” he slowly started retreating, realizing this girl’s will was equal to his own.

At least, Amy hoped that’s what was coming off.

She advanced forward, taking one step at a time as he repeatedly stepped away one foot at a time.

“Amy. Amy… Rose.”

“Quit it, girly! Ah..” Sonic was cut off by a loose rock, seeing it fall from his foot’s weight and retrieving his foot back. Looking down at the drop, he looked a bit panicked for a moment.

“Now!” She lunged forward, as his arms spread out and he tried to arch his back away from her.

“Alright, alright! But it’s not gonna change anything! You’ve gotta go!” Sonic demanded back, shouting so she understood him.

—

Geez, I never knew a girl with so much -tude.

He snarked to himself, before watching her back away, her eyes still daggers as if threatening him to keep his bargain.

“If you feel the same… I stay with you!” she folded her aggressive little arms and pouted like most little girls do.

Sheesh.

How’d he end up in this mess?

“Fine…” he scratched the back of his head, “You win…” he buffed up his chest, sucking in some air.

He was about to release it, when she was suddenly swooped away.

He blinked, before turning to look up.

“What… just happened?”

“SOOONNICC!!”

“Eeee! Hey!” he gripped his quills, having the sensation return but differently this time, having the quills stick up and shake straight, but his impulses feel like they had a million-bolt batteries in each part of his movable body!

“Metal me!” Sonic looked ahead to see Metal carrying her off. “Darn, we must still be in sync!” he realized, and darted his head down, glaring.

If he thinks he can take her away, I’ll-!

He sped off, not giving the thought a second look.

“Hang on!” he called from below, before seeing her let out a cry of help, her eyes spraying tears as suddenly Metal flew off into the sky.

Sonic reached up, his boyhood voice suddenly echoing out a sensation he hadn’t known before.

It was as if he was meant to say this sound, born into it, destined to speak it and let it rest on his tongue forever.

“AMMMYYY!!!!”

(Awww, so cute! XD I love classic Sonamy!!!)

Others like this (x) (x) (x)

#sonamy #classic sonamy #sonamy prompt #sonicxamy #amy rose #classic amy rose #rosy the rascal #sonic prompt #sonic the hedgehog #sonic #classic sonic #cutegirlmayra #sonic's a punk as a kid lol

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overdressedcarp · 7 years ago

Text

Questions courtesy of the fabulous @fisforfreakyme. Original post is here.

Hey, friend... I was having an off day and needed something to de-stress with for a while, so I went through the questions you came up with. It was really fun and helped to lift my mood, so thank you for sharing these.

1. Childhood favorite movie, and favorite movie now?

When I was a kid, in my family the go-to movies were “What About Bob?” and “The Princess Bride,” so I had large sections of both memorized by the time I was eleven or so. Also “Home Alone” and “Home Alone 2: Lost in New York,” both of which were obligatory viewing every Christmas.

My favorite movie now would probably be Pixar’s “Up,” followed by “Monsters, Inc.,” “Inside Out,” and anything else Pete Docter’s hands have touched.

2. Music that never fails to make you happy.

Tony Bennett is my go-to happy music. Anything jazz, really, but especially him. I also have five different renditions of “Puttin’ on the Ritz” saved to my Spotify because I love that song so much.

3. Do you play flash games?

Not really (most of my forays into the PC game world have been through Steam games like Portal and Terraria), but I’d be very open to recommendations.

4. Book you wish you could rewrite.

Honestly? Sir Walter Scott’s Ivanhoe. I read it in high school and still have the beginnings of an AU fanfiction saved on my computer somewhere. I got really invested in Brian de Bois-Gilbert as an antivillain (the fact that he’s a horrible person notwithstanding, he was easily one of the most complex characters in the book) and I was peeved when the narrative axed him. I still have vague dreams of writing an homage novel from his perspective that sets him down the long and winding road to becoming a halfway-decent person.

5. What happened to the dead man on the beach?

Ocean City, New Jersey. “America’s Greatest Family Resort,” the sign on the way in had bragged. There were supposedly some nice restaurants and a decent carnival on the boardwalk. “Supposedly,” because it was currently one in the morning and Adoniram was shivering in a poorly-lit parking lot up the hill from the beach.

“Admit it.” Olivia opened the car trunk and lifted out a wicker picnic basket. “You needed a vacation.”

Adoniram removed his glasses and wiped the frames on his shirt. “I don’t know if I’d call this a vacation.”

Olivia set the picnic basket on the ground, then hefted out a bulky beach umbrella. “Nonsense. We’ve got everything one could ask for. Pristine shoreline, cool breeze, attractive beach clothing...”

“Dead body.”

They both eyed the bundled-up corpse at the back of the trunk. Olivia pressed her latex-gloved fingertips together, then exhaled thinly.

“It’s a... working vacation.”

The beach was cold. Adoniram regretted letting Olivia talk him into the pair of high-end leather sandals; they were chafing his feet and acquiring more sand with every step.

Olivia had sent him down with the basket and the umbrella first, to set things up while she waited with the corpse. With the car. Waited with the car.

Adoniram unfolded the gaudy teal beach towel and shook it out over the sand. He laid it flat, adjusting the corners and smoothing the wrinkles. He could feel Olivia’s binoculars gazing down at him from the top of the hill. He planted the umbrella as best he could in the unsteady sand, then set the picnic basket full of food on top of the towel.

“I’ll wait with the car this time,” Adoniram said as he pulled himself up over the metal guardrail. He knocked his feet against the guardrail, then sat on top of it and started undoing the Velcro on his left sandal.

“You’ll do no such thing. I’m not carrying Phillip down there all by myself.”

“What have I told you about naming them?”

“Every life deserves dignity, Mr. Ross. Even the unsavory ones.”

Adoniram wasn’t sure how to respond to that, so he finished shaking the sand out of his sandals and joined Olivia at the trunk.

“Feet or head?” she asked.

“What kind of question is that?”

He ended up taking the feet. They worked their way down the hill to the beach, Adoniram stumbling backward and cursing the geological processes that produced sand, and Olivia looking much too pleasant in her wide-brimmed hat and the white sundress she was wearing over her hazmat suit.

They set up “Phillip”—the corpse the corpse the freaking corpse—on the beach towel. Adoniram turned around while Olivia changed the body into the swim shorts and t-shirt they’d bought from a box store on the drive down.

“For heaven’s sake, Mr. Ross, it’s just human anatomy.”

“It’s dead human anatomy, and I don’t want to look.”

“Where did you put the sunglasses?”

“Picnic basket.”

A moment of rummaging, then: “Ah. Thank you.”

Adoniram inhaled deeply, then chanced a peek over his shoulder. The body lay prone on the towel, sporting the orange “Life Is Good” t-shirt. Olivia had slipped the sunglasses over the body’s eyes. From the right angle, the fellow could almost pass for a run-of-the-mill sunbathing tourist. You know, at one in the morning in early April.

“That should do it,” said Olivia. She reached into the picnic basket and pulled out a sandwich wrapped in plastic. “Tuna?”

Adoniram’s stomach turned. “Uh, not hungry.”

“Well.” Olivia settled onto the sand, unwrapping the sandwich. “More for me, then.”

6. An inspiring quote.

Inspiration in three languages. (Photograph taken at Hellbrunn Palace in Salzburg, Austria)

7. Favorite pizza toppings.

Sausage or chicken. Not big on tomato sauce, though, so my ideal pizza would probably have a white sauce.

8. Do you have plush toys in your room?

Photographic evidence:

9. Describe your perfect day.

It is late autumn, a week or so before the first snow. The air is cold and crisp. In this perfect fantasy world I own a little apartment in a small but robust town, within biking distance from the local library.

I wake up, feeling unusually refreshed. I sit next to the window and read a chapter from my Bible as I listen to the birds talking to each other outside.

I put on soft and comfortable clothes, pack my laptop and sketchbook into a backpack, and ride my bicycle to the aforementioned library. The library has a small café in the back corner, so I select some books from the shelves and bring them to the café. I order tea and too many pastries. I sketch for an hour or two while messaging a friend over the internet, then take a break to read one of the books. It is a good book and I find myself shouting at the characters regularly in outbursts of catharsis. The librarians do not shush me because they are all sweet and slightly hard of hearing. I finish the book, then get up to stretch. I smell some books. I order more pastries.

I spend the afternoon writing on my laptop while listening to peppy jazz and swing music. I finish a draft of my current story and send it to a friend for feedback. The library is open late tonight. I order another cup of tea.

10. Ever punched someone?

My oldest nephew is about two and a half years younger than me, and we got into more than a few fights when we were kids. I whaled on him quite a bit for teasing me—something I very much regret, and not just because he’s now an athlete tall enough to put his elbow on my shoulder. :P That’s probably the closest I’ve gotten to punching anybody. I’m a shrimp, so even if I were inclined to get into fights it probably wouldn’t go well for me.

11. Cliché you are tired of seeing.

“We’re just friends” being used as a paper-thin cover-up for wanting to kiss someone passionately and angstily on a rooftop.

Ex.: “Hey, you guys spend a lot of time together and have verbally expressed affection on at least one occasion. *waggles eyebrows* Are you a ~couple~ now?” “Augh! No, how can you SAY that? How can you even imply that we would be interested in each other? We’re just FRIENDS, moron! I don’t even LIKE [other person] that much! ...Why, did [other person] *say* something about us being a couple?” (Ten minutes later: *passionate and angsty kissing on a rooftop*)

I don’t have anything against romance; I’m just kind of tired of seeing friendship presented as the easy, shallow option, with flurries of romantic passion serving as the gold standard for love. I’m tired of seeing the credits roll as soon as the main characters get a relationship upgrade.

I’d like to see more friends who are just friends and who love each other like crazy—friends who grow old together, arm in arm, being “just” friends as if that makes their commitment any less real.

I’d like to see more friends who struggle through the complexities and vulnerabilities of friendship, who have to deal with years of built-up internal crud just to say, truthfully, “I trust you.”

I’d like to see more lovers who are friends first, who are bewildered by all the new feelings but don’t stop being friends after the first kiss—friends who are in it for the long haul even when the attraction isn’t there.

I’d like to see more friends—lovers or not—who are too busy being a darn good team to worry about convincing anyone that they’re “just friends.” Give me friends who come home to each other and smile because Being friends is a lot of work, but, wow, you’re worth it.

#re: question 11 #this is 100% the reason i love the movie 'up' so much #you have carl and ellie with a romance that embodies true friendship and teamwork #and then carl and russell whose story is this beautiful depiction of friends becoming family #not to mention kevin's fierce love for her babies #or dug's devotion to carl #overdressed Q&A #my life as a robot gentleman blogger

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kaesaaurelia · 8 years ago

Note

oh hey how about Alphys and Sans' chat in your "When Life Hands You Enantiomers" fic for that fic meta ask?

OH MAN so this was my first Undertale fic ever! I originally started noodling around with writing Sans and Alphys genfic for Yuletide, the small fandom exchange that happens every Christmas – at the time of nominations, Undertale was still a small fandom! and I got into it during the writing period, so I hadn’t thought to ask for or offer it.

I’d wanted to write a treat, but I ended up looking at all the Undertale requests and none of them quite were what I wanted to write, which was mostly chemistry puns and friendship. So I wrote it, figured I might gift it to someone if it happened to suit their letter, and… it didn’t, really? I figured I’d just post it.

Anyway, that’s the fic background. Onward!

“You look like you need a break,” he said, decisively, going past her into the lab. He paused at her desk, evidently looking for somewhere to put the box of donuts and finding nothing but her vast mountains of clutter. "I like what you’ve done with the place,“ he said finally.

Basically this was my dad’s reaction to my first apartment every time I tried to show him how clever I’d been making furniture out of cardboard boxes. Eventually I got sick of responding with “oh fuck off” and made him drive me to Ikea to get a desk.

“It’s, uh. S-sorry, it’s kind of a mess. I’m just really busy with – with Royal Scientist stuff?” she finished hopefully. "You – you know how it is, I g-guess.“

"Yeah,” he said, tonelessly.

and this is the start of me not being able to decide whether or not Alphys remembers that Sans used to work with Gaster in some capacity in this fic! I think I eventually decided it comes and it goes. I like to keep things ambiguous on the topic of What The Fuck Is Even Up With Sans??? in my non-AU Undertale fics – I find the ambiguity interesting, I like that everyone has their own theories, and other people have covered that ground better and more thoroughly than I will.

“Anyway,” he said, a lot more brightly, “let’s relax and have some donuts.” He pulled a picnic blanket from literally nowhere and spread it out on the floor of the lab.

So one of the things I appreciate about writing from Alphys’ POV is that it feels completely tonally appropriate to have her say she facepalmed, or use the phrase “literally nowhere,” and other diction I guess I associate more with informal internet communication.

“Does, uh. Does Muffet know you made off with all her donuts?” Alphys asked.

“Eh,” said Sans, waving a hand dismissively.

Again, I really like leaving Sans’ bullshit ambiguous, and kind of shady.

“So. You still working on that horrible tile puzzle?”

“It’s. …yeah! It’s going really well. It's….” She sighed.

“You’re stuck, aren’t you?” Sans asked.

“Yeah,” she admitted.

“You know you don’t have to do it, right?” he said. "I mean… Papyrus knows you must be really busy, he’s not gonna be upset. Plus, I have to say, I’m not real excited about fishing him out of the middle of it if he gets stuck on a puzzle.“

I like how Sans assumes Alphys’ real concern is letting Papyrus down.

"Ha,” she said, joylessly. "F-funny you should mention the, uh, fishing.“

To her horror, he took this entirely the wrong way. "Aw, come on, Undyne’s not gonna hold it against you either,” he said.

“N-no, that’s, that’s n-n-not what I –” Words failed her and she just buried her face in her hands for a moment.

“Although, now that I mention it, Undyne did seem kinda worried about you,” he said. "You’re not answering your phone, or something? She said maybe you were mad at her.“

"Oh no,” said Alphys, diving for her phone. Those four texts. "Augh, I am the worst kind of trash, I’m a terrible friend, I c-can’t do anything right!“ she moaned.

Oh god. Please tell me I’m not the only person who leaves texts unread because what if I forget to respond to them when the notification is gone? and then don’t ever look at them out of crushing guilt and anxiety, until people start to worry. Please.

(Another note on diction: I actually really, really don’t like it when people call themselves “trash.” I grew up unironically – and really shittily – using the phrase “white trash” to describe certain cousins of mine, and it’s too loaded down with those classist connotations for me to read it as just harmless self-deprecation. This may just be because I am An Old, though. Anyway, Alphys uses it – and it’s definitely how she actually thinks of herself – so I kind of gritted my teeth and used it too.)

Sans was managing to make a perma-grin look dismayed.

I have to say, I was impressed with the unhappy-smiling Sans sprites in the game! I try not to ever describe Sans as frowning, but probably something’s slipped through at some point in the vrillion words of fic I’ve written.

She brought up the texts, ignoring him for the moment.

hey, was wondering if you wanna do a human history movie night with me and Pap tomorrow???

Then the next day:

super last minute, sorry. watched Cooking w/Killer Robot marathon. maybe next week? something w/giant swords??? YEAH!!!!!

And then:

Is everything ok? Miss you.

And finally:

Did I do something wrong?

"Oh no,” she moaned.

“That bad, huh,” he said, sympathetically.

“Oh nooo,” she repeated. "Oh no, oh no, now she probably thinks I’m terrible and –“

"Alphys. Wow. Relax,” said Sans. "I came over to check on you and make sure you hadn’t been, I don’t know, eaten by lab rats or something.“

Sometime I really need to write the companion piece to this, where Papyrus and Undyne come up with this terrible idea for a puzzle. And I have to work in a scene where Undyne is worried about Alphys and goes from dashing off carefully carefree-seeming texts to VERY CAREFULLY PUNCTUATED TEXTS BECAUSE WHAT IF ALPHYS THINKS SHE’S A BIG DUMB LUNK??? but it never occurs to her that Alphys might be anxious about replying to her.

"Eaten?!?” she asked. Did he… did he know? Augh, when had she last fed the amalgamates, anyway? Two days ago, maybe? Ugh, that was too long, they were going to be all grumpy when she went downstairs next. She tried to keep breathing and not panic.

He held up his hands to pacify her. "Hey. Hey. I don’t know why but everything I say’s making you panic.“ He nudged the box towards her. "Look, have a donut. Everything’s better with donuts. It’ll make you feel hole again.”

Hole puns are the hole reason I included donuts in this fic.

Alphys winced despite herself, then sighed. "Okay, yeah. Sorry. I’m. It’s – it’s been a hard few days.“

"Yeah?” he asked.

She nibbled at the donut half-heartedly. "So uh. You mentioned the tile puzzle thing? I’m having trouble with the piranhas.“

Sans snorted. "I’m sorry, just – there are piranhas? Why are there piranhas?”

“They were in the specs Undyne gave me!” Alphys said, trying not to get defensive.

“Sounds very fishy to me,” said Sans. "Anyway, why not just make robot piranhas? I mean, that’s your forte, isn’t it?“

man, Alphys hasn’t told Sans about anything in this fic, and he apparently doesn’t tell her about anything either. I like how they’re friends who lie their faces off to each other on the regular.

Oh god, robot piranhas would be about ten times worse. "It’s not making the actual piranhas, as such,” said Alphys. "It’s getting them to distinguish between lemon scent and orange scent. Because, see, the request was to make sure they go after anyone who smells like oranges but be repelled by anyone who smells like lemons.“

Sans stared for a moment, and then, to her dismay, started laughing. "What? What? You’re serious. Oh man, I bet Papyrus came up with that one. He’s – he’s pretty picky about his cleaning products, I guess that little difference is important to him.” His grin widened a little. "Papyrus is so great at those little details, you know?“

He’s laughing, but this praise of his brother is totally in earnest. Sans may be the one who pays the bills, but I’m pretty sure Papyrus is the only reason their house isn’t disgusting.

"Sans, this isn’t f-funny!” said Alphys. "Have you ever tried to train killer fish to distinguish between d-limonene and l-limonene when all they care about is smelling blood?!? Because I have!“

"Yeah, that sounds like one l of a problem,” said Sans. "A terrible knot you have to d-tangle. Orange you glad I stopped by?“

"Sans,” said Alphys, beginning to lose patience.

There are several naming conventions for enantiomers, and originally this was S-limonine and R-limonine, with corresponding puns (I forget what they were, I just remember it was a pain in the ass coming up with new puns) but I think I googled and the d- and l- notation was more popular for limonene.

Like I’ve said elsewhere, this whole fic was largely an excuse for chemistry puns.

“It sounds like you need this problem like a fish needs a by… cyclohexane! Lemon know if you think of anything I can do to help.”

“Sans,” she said. It was starting to become more of a whine.

“Citrus me, I got this. I don’t rind helping you at all,” he said, because he was a merciless bag of bones.

She glowered at him. Then she took the box of donuts away from him.

CAN YOU BLAME HER THOUGH.

“Hey! I was eating those!” he protested.

“Tough,” she said. When he leaned over to try and reach them, she harrumphed and stood up. Getting to his feet was apparently too much for Sans, because after one last halfhearted sitting lunge, he gave up and sat serenely on the picnic blanket.

Alphys carefully balanced the box of donuts on top of a stack of papers on her desk, then slid an empty mug underneath it for added support.

If you have never done this with a stack of papers, ….I envy your tidiness. And if you’ve never done that dumbass thing where you try to lunge for a thing just out of your reach and then try to spontaneously develop telekinesis to bring it over to you… you’re fucking lying.

With a few keystrokes, she brought her computer out of sleep mode and was drawing up her data on the piranhas. "I’m not really sure h-how you can help?“ she said. "I-I mean, if you can it’d be great, obviously, b-but… don’t you do, uh, physics?” Her memories were kind of fuzzy on this. Why did she know Sans again? When had she met him? It wasn’t that important, was it? Everyone knew Sans.

AND AGAIN, I can’t decide what Alphys knows about Sans in this fic.

“Yeah, but, everything’s physics in the end, right?” Sans said, a shrug in his voice.

She finished her donut before saying, wryly, “That’s what physicists tell themselves. I g-guess if it helps you sleep at night…”

For whatever reason I was fortunate not to hear this much from the physics majors in school. (The math majors, on the other hand….) But I’ve seen them do it a lot on the internet and so I have to admit I’m kind of fond of writing chemists and biologists being dismissive about it.

“I sleep all the time,” Sans said cheerfully. She wondered if he was ever going to get up and come over here eventually.

“Undyne has mentioned,” she said. "So, uh, w-what exactly do you think is so physics-y here?“

"Well. It’s not so much the physics, I guess,” he said. "It’s just that I’m really good at cheating.“

She reached absently for another donut, opening the box without looking at it and reaching inside. Her claws closed on something rubbery, and before she could stop, it was making a ridiculous farting noise.

She pulled the whoopee cushion out of the box, and turned to look at Sans. He hadn’t moved an inch from where she’d left him, and was snacking on a donut he definitely hadn’t had before.

She sighed. "Y-yeah, I can see that.”

I think at this point I’d seen a lot of Sans-being-badass art, and kind of wanted someone to react to him with an eyeroll. Not that I don’t think Sans isn’t badass! Just, you gotta have that one friend who will call you on your bullshit.

She turned back to her computer screen and skimmed the data she had on her attempts at training the piranhas. Ugh. No statistically significant difference between any of the training methods she’d attempted and the control groups.

Sometimes she wished science worked more like it was presented in fiction: less waiting around for something to happen, more moments of genius and day-saving. On the other hand, as it turned out, horrific abominations of science were a real thing. Who knew?

notice how I carefully avoid references to specific anime! because I’d pretty much only watched Ouran High School Host Club in full! I think I remember double-checking with @thinkatoryprocess that horrific abominations of science was a thing in anime?

I have since learned many things about Fullmetal Alchemist, and in particular why I wasn’t supposed to watch it just after my dog had died.

“So, h-how exactly were you thinking of cheating?” Her mind wandered to some of those weird diagrams she’d come across deep in the lab files, presumably belonging to the previous Royal Scientist. "Are you thinking, um, t-time travel? Because if I could find some way to breed selectively for citrus recognition they could evolve to–“

MY THIRD INSTANCE of “what the fuck does Alphys even know? why bother making it consistent?”

"No,” said Sans, and she leaped back with a squeak of shock, because suddenly he was standing right next to her and he was speaking in a freaky hollow voice, and also the light in his eyes had gone totally dark and, and, what the fuck, Sans?!? "…Heh, sorry,“ he said, and the little glowing dots returned, and the grin looked more natural. "Just. Trust me. Time travel, not a good idea.”

She knew she shouldn’t ask, but she kind of had to. "…Why?“

"Time flies,” said Sans. When she frowned at him, he added, “They’re even more annoying than fruit flies. And they get stuck in your teeth if you go faster than light. It’s a real problem.”

Okay, yeah, she wasn’t gonna get a straight answer out of a guy who wore bedroom slippers everywhere he teleported. Fair enough.

This last sentence is still one of my favorite summations of Sans as a character.

“Out of curiosity,” he said, “why didn’t you make robot piranhas?”

“Ugh,” she said. "You know, I thought about it? B-but then I’d have to invent the scent organs and I’m n-not sure I’m up to it.“ She wasn’t up to a lot of things, honestly. She wasn’t sure why Asgore hadn’t noticed. Or Undyne. She was really surprised Sans hadn’t noticed, though. He was weirdly observant.

So I did like no research on robots for this. IIRC machines that do something similar to smelling are a thing, but I have no idea how they work.

"Nah,” said Sans. "Just think lazy!“

A favorite motto of my boss, weirdly enough.

"But I don’t want to leave the piranhas out! Then Undyne and your b-brother will be d-disappointed and I won’t be the ‘g-great Dr. Alphys’ anymore, I’ll just be a f-fraud. They s-specifically requested piranhas!”

“So give ‘em piranhas,” said Sans. "But play to your strengths.“

"I d-don’t know that I have any strengths,” she pointed out.

“Sure you do. I mean, right now you’ve only been using biology. Maybe you wanna get down to the nuts and bolts of the matter. You made Mettaton, right?” he said. She tried not to wince. "And if you can make that guy a star, you’ve gotta be good. Plus, I can’t help but notice you’re, uh, pretty good with optics.“

She blushed. "The c-cameras? They’re for – uh, for scientific observation?” she said.

“Riiight,” said Sans. "I know what you’re up to. You just wanna steal all my best knock-knock jokes, don’t you?“

"There’s no s-sound!” she insisted, but Sans was chuckling. "…is that what you do at the door all day?“ she asked, frowning. "I just thought you were, uh. T-testing the structural integrity of the door. And… talking to someone?”

“Nah,” said Sans. "Who would I be talking to?“

"On the other side of the d-door?” she suggested.

both of these people, liars. I’m not sure Sans will be wholly surprised to find out Alphys didn’t make Mettaton, but the robot body’s still pretty damn impressive. And in the true pacifist ending Alphys didn’t seem real surprised there was someone behind that door.

He shrugged. "Anyway. Just some suggestions. But if you wanna give up… hey, I can’t blame ya. Papyrus will recover from his disappointment. Undyne probably knew it was a crazy idea in the first place.“ He reached around her to grab another donut. "Anyway, I gotta go on my lunch break before she finds out I’m slacking off here. Text her back, though, she seemed pretty worried. And try to do it before she and my bro burn the house down with her stress-spaghetti-ing?”

And obviously when all else fails, Sans’ go-to solutions are 1. taking a break, and 2. giving up. Not always in that order.

“Thanks,” said Alphys, half-heartedly. She turned to ask another question, but found she was sitting in an empty room. "…I think. …well, hey, at least I have donuts.“

Having donuts means she’s definitely better off than where she was at the beginning of the fic! Also I appreciate Sans having the ability to just vanish, because for whatever reason describing people walking to the door and saying “goodbye” is really boring to me and always trips me up.

#electricitytrick #so yes this one got long too #i probably should've just done the whole fic #but i don't know that i had much else to say?#idk hopefully this one wasn't disappointing #dvd commentary meme #undertale #alphys #sans #toby fox games

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