#gah i miss megamind so much

[cannibalisticshadows]

Dear Evil Heaven (Chapter 1/2)

Wow look at that I actually made and finished a two-shot for once.

Ao3 Link | FF Link 

Fandom: Megamind Relationship: Megamind/Roxanne Rating: T Warnings: brief antisemitic slur

“…And you look like a skank!”

“That’s big talk coming from a bobble head!”

“At least I cover myself!”

“You could walk into an BDSM club and no one would bat an eye!”

“Gah!” The blue supervillain threw his hands up, frustrated with the woman. Seriously, how hard was it to act a little bit scared? They had an audience! Well, soon, anyway. Metro Man was taking his sweet-ass time today, and hadn’t even made his expected appearance at the Park’s reopening yet! Megamind huffed, leaning back into his chair with all his villainous allure. He bet Waaayne was still primping his hair. Fwah!

And to make matters more difficult, his number one kidnappee was being an absolute brat!

“Is that anyway a lady should talk, Miss Ritchi? I’m sure it makes you a ton of free-ends!”

“More friends than you’ll ever make, blueberry!”

Oh, that was low even for her.

Megamind bolted upright, causing his chair to squeak on its wheels as it was pushed backwards most roughly. “Call me that again and I’ll really make you scream!”

“Oh I’m so scared,” Roxanne’s voice dripped with sarcasm as she rolled her eyes, “what in heavens will I do?”

“Yes! Beg for mercy! I’ll show you to never underestimate me again!” He shouted, and actually slammed his fist onto the control panels, causing one of his torture devises to spur into action. Roxanne, clearly thinking she had been in control, actually jolted with surprise as the razor-sharp blade came spinning and whirling down from the ceiling.

He hadn’t intended to let one of his inventions out, but yelped and grappled for the appropriate control to stop the blades—they were so close to her—!

It stopped, finally, after much fuss on his part. He turned, a little bit frightened to find what might be of Miss Ritchi… And thank goodness she was okay.

But apparently it cut a few hairs off her head. Oops.

Minion, who was standing idly by in the background, stared with his jaw open. The razor had been very close to actually touching their hostage.

“Oh my god,” she gasped, looking concerned. For once. “Goodness, Megamind, if I knew that calling you names would rile you up so bad I’d hold back a bit.”

He sniffed. He didn’t want her to know that by calling him blueberry would poke a tender spot. It was a favorite name the kids at school liked to call him.

“No! No, I’m perfectly fine! This is normal me!” Megamind insisted, ignoring Minion’s look of worry. “But you’re better than calling me names shool-yard brats use!”

Her blue eyes had been actuall anxious, before, but once he finished speaking Roxanne shot him a look of—what? Surprise?

“Shul?”

“That’s what I said, damn it!” He threw himself down onto his chair. Great, now she was making fun of his mispronunciation problem. This was turning out to be a disaster before it even begun! He turned to Minion to order him to get the knock-out gas out and cancel today’s evil plot, when—

“I thought I was the only one here—I mean, sure there are others, but—Megamind, I had no idea! Where do—or did—you go?.

One of his brows curled upward. Was she actually surprised he went to school? Wow. Sure, he only went for a few months, but still… “I went to shool like everyone else, Miss Ritchi! And I’m looking right through your nosy reporter skills, so don’t—“

“It’s just I didn’t expect you of all people to be Jewish.”

A look of confusion fell over his face. He spun around in his chair to face her properly.

“Say what now?”

She was looking in her lap with a look of thoughtfulness, an expression he only saw on her when she was reporting a case particularly interesting, with her brows drawn up and her lips curled into a funny little smile. “Did you have a bar mitzvah? What was your parsha?”

“What?”

She laughed, somewhat nervously. This was… unlike her. “Sorry, haha! I’m just—really surprised! I mean, you’re—an alien, right? You’ve never really confirmed that. As a kid I went to an orthodox shul—Sephardic. But after my father passed away, a little bit after my bat mitzvah, my family became more reformed… Megamind?”

She was looking at him, like she expected him to say something—Oh, had he hit his head on something? He wasn’t understanding a word she was saying. Panicking, he shifted his eyes to Minion, who shrugged, clueless as him. What was she talking about?

“Megamind?” She asked again.

“What—what language are you—“ If she had somehow changed languages, he had no clue. That frightened him, because he knew just about every language!

With his words, the report’s shoulders, previously up and attentive, slowly drooped down along with her expression. Her blue eyes became shifty. Worried, almost. “Shul… You know, synagogue? Temple?”

“I—“ Of course he knew was a synagogue was, he wasn’t stupid. But—how did Ritchi get the assumption he was apart of one of this planet’s religious groups? Megamind wasn’t religious himself; he was a man of science. Yet, as a child, he and Minion liked the idea of Heaven—a place where souls go to after a person dies. It comforted him to think his parents still watched out for him, even in death. He hadn’t been around long enough on his home planet to know of its religious aspects, but he was not one to completely dismiss the theological belief of a being greater than man. After all, he believed in Destiny to the point of worship. “I don’t know what you’re talking about, Miss Ritchi. But confusing me will get you nowhere! Minion!” Said henchfish jumped in place. “Plans are canceled! Take Miss Ritchi home!”

Roxanne opened her mouth to speak, looking almost frightened for a moment (wow she was hitting a lot of damsel-worthy expressions today) before Minion brought out the knock-out spray and gave her a reasonable dosage.

They watched the reporter slump in her chair, unconscious. He blinked owlishly and looked to his fishy friend. It seemed they had some research to do on this theology his favorite kidnappee associated herself with.

~.~.~.~

Shit. Shit, shit, shit.

Roxanne groaned as she came to, vision blurry and unfocused.

She’d slipped up big time today, and in front of Megamind of all people! Oh, this could be her downfall. If the station found out—Shit, she was fucked.

Slowly, she rose up from her red couch and stretched, angrily rubbing her eyes. Megamind was always looking for a weakness in her, and today he just found it.

Roxanne remembers her childhood well—Shabbat dinner, making Challah with Mom, the candles, kissing the mezuzah, preparing herself for her bat mizvah—yet that was in the past, when her father was still alive and well, laughing with her and her brother at the table, walking to shul. It felt like a lifetime ago.

Yet her father died, leaving her mother and her brother and herself alone, to a community, though it meant well, couldn’t keep their damn mouths shut with gossip. One little rumor and—oh, poor mama. Roxanne shook her head. Religion, in her eyes, could be good and well, but people—people could just make it shitty.

Still a widow, her mom’s “friends” let one little rumor get to them and—well, they moved away, when the stares and whispers became too much, to a smaller community. It was better, and they made new friends and the rabbi was much more understanding—that actually let to her mom getting remarried, but—Roxanne and her brother David went down two very different paths. He went to yeshiva and studied, while she—well, still bitter from the horrible way their community in New Bergville treated them, she moved away to college and got her first real taste of the outside world and became attached. Roxanne’s love for journalism grew and she learned, graduated, and—

Drifted. Of course she still spoke to her mom and brother—and her step-dad—but her visits home lessened until she could barely remember the morning prayers anymore. She didn’t even have mezuzahs up.

And if—if her boss found out—

”Jews! Filthy, money-greedy rats—never trust one!” Her boss had said, himself, before her and several people. Fuck, she’d so loose her job if he found out—

Vivian, who happened to be Hindu, and a good friend of hers, was “let go” after Joe found out she wasn’t “normal”. Joe had a serious intolerance for religion in general.

And now Megamind knew because she messed up and misheard him.

Fuck.

[elf-kid2]

Megamind Soulmate AU

When you write something on your arms, the marks appear on the arms of your soulmate as well. This is known: the soul-bond does not begin at birth; it is only possible with both souls have reached a certain level of maturity. No one knows what triggers the bond; it is not restrained by distance, by language, by contact... but everyone knows that a soulmate is true love, however improbable it may seem. 

Some people develop the mark as young as 14; others begin to find their Soulmate’s marks on their skin when they’re in their 20′s; some never get a mark at all.  In some countries, people bare their arms openly, to better show their art and facilitate the finding of the soulmate (who will of course match). In most of the northwest hemisphere, especially the United States, baring one’s arms in public is considered extremely taboo, even obscene: a cultural norm born of cold weather, left over from outdated arranged-marriage traditions, and puritanism.

Megamind never wrote or drew anything on his arms. There was no point: if he had ever had a soulmate (which wasn’t guaranteed) they had no doubt perished young, lost to the black hole with the rest of his homeworld.

He was never more surprised than the day he discovered a line of colors (black, white, pink, red, yellow, purple, orange, green and, when he looked closer, a shade of blue close to that of his own skin) on his left arm while getting dressed one morning. His first thought was that it must be a bruise- except that he hadn’t hit himself, it didn’t hurt, and the tidy, circular segments of colour didn’t actually look like a bruise at all. His second thought was that he must have spattered himself with paint, except that he had been in the Lair, wearing long sleeves and gloves, and he hadn’t been anywhere near the paint in three days. His third thought was that he needed a plan.

Roxanne Ritchi was not obsessed with finding her soulmate. She didn’t worry, as some did, about ‘missing her chance’ or  She did not decorate her arms with new doodles every day the way some of her friends from middle and high-school claimed to, nor did she spend an excess amount of time or thought looking for a new mark and trying to determine if this or that dot was a freckle or a drop of ink-- but that’s not to say she wasn’t interested.

Every year on her birthday, Roxanne would take out a box of special colored ink-pens (given to her by an aunt for her 15th birthday as a right-of-passage type thing) and draw a multicolored pattern on her arm. She is careful to make bright, clear lines and use a variety of colours-- both light and dark-- because she’s heard too many stories of people missing their chance because they used a shade of ink to close to the color of their Soulmate’s skin, causing the marks to go unnoticed.

The day after her 22nd birthday, Roxanne woke up to find that her right arm was covered in black ink. (Was her soulmate left-handed?). Near the wrist was a pattern of tiny, unfamiliar symbols arranged in a spiral. Below that, a set of Chinese characters. Then a message in arabic. Then a question in German, then French, then Spanish. Finally, close to her shoulder, she could read the message: How did you survive?

She found translations for all of the marks except the ones closest to her wrist: How did you survive?

It took three weeks of communicating at cross-purposes before Megamind figured out that his Soulmate (who was, as it turned out, english-speaking) was in fact native to planet Earth. He felt... The realization... It felt like losing his people all over again. It hurt. He’d known, of course, that even if she (they had confirmed each others pronouns within two days of establishing communication) was also interested in starting a family, one couple was not enough to rebuild a population, even with cloning technology. He also knew that it was probably-- safer-- for both of them this way; the world was not kind so a solitary blue alien, and he could very clearly imagine what people would do if they saw more. An alien was an oddity; Aliens were an invasion or an infestation to be destroyed with extreme prejudice for the good of all humankind. He and Minion had been stockpiling weapons and improving security at the Evil Lair since the soul-bond had appeared, for just that reason. Part of him, some small, cursed part of him, was actually, secretly, a little bit relieved.

Roxanne wondered, sometimes, about his first love. Reading between the lines, Roxanne could tell that he’d initially thought that she, his Soulmate, was a certain childhood sweetheart or previous girlfriend who hadn’t been heard from since died in some sort of accident or natural disaster years ago. It was fairly common in this day and age for people to date before they made contact with their soulmate, and really it would be silly to be jealous of a girl who had died, but. But. Roxanne wondered if she would measure up to her Soulmate’s first love, the girl he had lost. She wondered if they would still have been soulmates if the other girl hadn’t died, or if she would have ended up alone. But there was nothing to be jealous about.

Mostly, it hurt. He was alone on this planet, he and Minion were completely alone hear, and when they died all that was left of his planet, all that was left of his parents’ legacy, would die with them. He had known that for years, but having hope, having a chance and then feeling it ripped away once more in the cruel hands of fate made the facts all the harder to bear. Furthermore, Megamind had somehow become Bonded to a human. She would expecting someone of her own species, probably hoping for someone tall and square-jawed, with good hair and lots of money. What if they met, and she couldn’t stand to look at him? What if she was horrified, or angry, or disappointed, or scared when-- if they met in person?

Roxanne had asked, a few times, about meeting in person, but each time he wrote a note saying that, for now, it was impossible. She understood, really,  she did. Based on their first communication, where he had asked How did you survive? in so many languages, she suspected that he was from another country (most US citizens were not bilingual), and though he wrote in English fluently enough, perhaps he was less comfortable with the spoken language? In any case, if he lived in another country, it could take a lot of time and money before he was able to visit her, or before she was able to visit him. She understood.

Roxanne gave him her phone number instead.

When she gave him her phone number during one of their "evening chats” (sessions in which they would lock themselves in their rooms and exchange notes, sharing jokes, doodles, poetry, and little incidents from the day with the sort of ink that could be easily washed away to make room for more notes), he wasn’t sure what to do. She had a Metro City area code. Megamind hadn’t expected that. He knew he’d mislead her, allowing her to believe that he lived overseas in some far-away country, but he hadn’t actually expected to find out that they lived in the same city.

He wondered who she was

Two days after she’d written her own phone number on her arm (two days of worry and nervousness, because what if really he didn’t like the sound of her voice, what if she said something wrong when he called, what if he never called at all, what if he didn’t ever want to see her, what if...), Roxanne got a text message from an unlisted number: “My Queen, shall we continue our correspondence?” She blushed, smiling in delight: this was how her Soulmate liked to ‘greet’ her in their evening chats. Now they could send messages anytime... and now that she had his number, she could call him.

“Ollo?” She’d called when he was in the middle of building a weaponized tunneling vehicle (the name was also in the works). Somehow, he hadn’t expected her to call

“It’s me. I mean, this is Roxanne Ritchi, I mean... can you spare a minute to talk with your Queen?” she’d called during her lunch break, on an impulse, and she hadn’t planned on telling him her name, hadn’t planned on what to say at all, hadn’t thought that maybe there was a time difference and he was at work or asleep or something, but... she’d wanted to know what his voice sounded like.

“I always have time for you,” he said, making his voice low and smooth. “So, my only Soulmate, did you say you’re name was Roxanne?” He already knew her name of course; he’d tracked her down almost as soon as he had her number. But being able to talk to her, being able to say her beautiful, luscious name outloud, to her...

“Roxanne Ritchi,” she said. Gah, she loved his voice; she should have called him ages ago. “I’m an investigative reporter with the KMCP8 Newstation. What’s your name? What do you do for a living?” It was hard to believe they’d been bonded for months, yet she still didn’t know his name.

“I-” how was he supposed to answer? “Roxanne, I--” How was he supposed to tell Roxanne Ritchi, the smart, witty, beautiful reporter, the woman who had twice discovered his Evil Scheme early and had to be taken hostage, who he’d seen flirting with his most hated rival following both those occasions-- how was he supposed to tell her that her one and only Soulmate was a (skinny, blue, big-headed, short, freakish) notoriously unsuccessful Super Villain?

“I’m really not that interesting,” he whispered. “And Roxanne, my love, I’d much rather talk about you.”

“Come on, don’t tease,” she giggled. “I told you mine, so you tell me yours. What’s your name?” He’d drawn this out as long as possible. He could try to delay again, make it last a little bit longer, but sooner or later she would get sick of waiting; sooner or later she would figure it out.

“My name is Megamind,” he said, his voice holding more confidence than he felt. “Incredibly Handsome Criminal Genius and Master of All Villainy. Roxanne will you-- do you still--- wont you be my Queen?”

“Is this a joke?” Roxanne demanded. “It isn’t funny!” “It’s no joke,” her soul mate Megamind the voice on the other end of the phone replied. “...If you don’t believe me, you can look at your left wrist.”

“I will!” she grabbed her purse and stormed to the privacy of a stall in the Lady’s Room to role up her sleeves. (She was angry, but she wasn’t about to get undressed in public.) There on her arm, in the same handwriting her soulmate always had, was the message. My name is Megamind.

They met in person for the first time that very evening. It went infinitely better than Megamind thought it would.

It went about as well as could be expected.

He wondered if she wished that he were human. She wondered if he wished she were blue. He wanted to know what she thought of his career. She wanted to know why he chose it. He wanted to give her nice things. She wanted to give him a home. He hoped that she would get along with Minion. (Soulmate or not, he wasn’t sure what he’d do if she couldn’t.) She delighted in the thought of how her family would react if when she took him home for Thanksgiving. He offered to conquer the world so that she could truly be Queen. She offered to help him rework his PR until he didn’t have to fight the world.

They kissed for the first time that night.

It was... wonderful.

The debate continued on if Megamind should give up Villainy, or if Roxanne should become his ‘Partner in Crime’.

In the end, both were happy with the decision.

They were married three months later-- after what Megamind described as a torturously long engagement. Roxanne’s family felt that it was scandalously short-- but since they were hoping the groom would die in a lab accident before the wedding, they don’t get to vote.

Roxanne and Megamind Ritchi went on to do great things together. (One of their greatest achievements was successfully creating-- and doing an unusually successful job at maintaining-- a happy family.)