#if it is meant to be kept in a box or a collector’s item it comes in a nicer box and they work directly with artists and spend a long

[robertsbarbie]

after the movie people became hyper critical of the outfits of barbie dolls claiming their quality has gone down and they’re all ugly and it’s like how do you explain that the iconic looks come from special edition/art dolls and the dolls they more regularly promote are the dolls being played with by little kids and it’s more important for little kids to see themselves represented and a variety of careers presented rather than a “high quality” outfit like

[bluebellhairpin]

"A box that the world will happily put you back in." Because the moment women decide not to be anyone, society will put us back in a box. Mother. Maid. Wife. It is always there, waiting. Barbie is not meant to go back in her box after she's left it.

[shiningamongdarkness]

A Girl and Her Doll - Chapter 04. Stroke of Inspiration

Chapter 04. Stroke of Inspiration

The next couple of days were much simpler than Gemma had imagined. Esther actually turned out to be a very calm and, above all, independent child. She got up, dressed, combed her hair, brushed her teeth, and even made her own breakfast if necessary. She also entertained herself, which was quite convenient for Gemma. But it was also a little unusual since she remembered that six-year-old Esther was much more dependent and attached to her parents. But she was now a ten-year-old girl, and she'd been through... a lot. She could hardly be the same girl she remembered.

                In addition to buying her some new clothes (all in the same style Esther already wore), personal hygiene items, and everyday accessories, the girl only asked for one other thing. Just one whim: painting supplies. Apparently, Esther had been overcome by a great need to paint something, and everything she had at home had also burned down. Gemma agreed, thinking it would be a way to keep her busy.

                That same afternoon, when she returned from her trip to get the painting supplies, Gemma entered the house and spotted her niece carefully examining the shelves she had in the living room. Others placed books, decorations, and family photographs on them... But Gemma had toys. Not just any toys, but antique and classic toys in their original packaging and perfect condition. It was a small and modest collection, but it was hers. She had often considered getting them a lockable display case but kept putting it off. But she reanalyzed it strongly when she saw Esther reach out and take one of them between her fingers.

                "Oh, no, no," Gemma exclaimed, trying to keep her alarm down. Esther looked at her, a little confused, as she hurried over. "You look at these, but you don't touch them, okay?" she said in a tone meant to be friendly as she took the square box from her fingers and placed it back on the shelf.

                "I'm sorry," Esther apologized, embarrassed. "I thought they were toys."

       ��        "Yes, they are... toys..." Gemma muttered doubtfully. "But not the kind you play with. They're collector's items."

                "Are they worth a lot?" the little girl asked curiously.

                "Monetarily? That depends on the buyer, but I don't intend to sell them anytime soon."

                Gemma turned to look at the collection and instinctively reached out and picked up one of the toys, a medium-sized, silver robot with lights and sounds—an '80s classic.

                "I like their designs," Gemma commented as she inspected the robot. "It's interesting to see how they could do so much back then while keeping it so simple. That's my problem, you know? I always want to do everything big. Thinking simple is…"

                She fell silent, realizing she'd gotten a little carried away. Esther looked at her intently but also somewhat confusedly.

                "Sorry, I'm rambling out loud," she apologized, accompanied by a nervous giggle. She then put the toy back on the shelf. "I brought what you asked for."

                She then turned toward the living room, where she'd arranged what Esther asked her for: a wooden easel, three medium-sized canvases, oil paints, watercolors, pencils, and brushes. Esther had given her a detailed list, so Gemma had no trouble getting everything from an art store in town.

                Esther looked at all this with her face lit up with joy and a wide smile from ear to ear.

                "Thank you!" Esther exclaimed enthusiastically, immediately hugging her aunt tightly. The hug caught Gemma slightly off guard, but she tried to return.

                Esther broke away from her and headed to her art supplies. She started by stopping the easel and placing it right there in the center of the living room, between the armchair and the television.

                "Is it okay if I paint here? The light coming through this window is perfect."

                Gemma hesitated momentarily, not entirely convinced by the idea at first. Still, she was incapable of saying anything that would dampen Esther's enthusiasm. In her mind, perhaps painting would be a way to be close to her father. Allen was a renowned painter, and it was clear Esther had inherited his artistic streak.

                "Yes... of course," she replied, almost forcing a smile. "Just don't stain the carpet or the furniture, please."

After telling Esther that, Gemma thought she detected a slight trace of discontent in her eyes. However, the next time she blinked, the girl smiled again joyfully.

                "Don't worry, I'll be careful," she told her sweetly.

                It must have been her imagination.

                Esther placed one of the canvases on the easel and began preparing everything else with great care.

                "Are you sure you'll be okay just with that?" Gemma asked, somewhat skeptical. "Don't you want me to lend you my tablet so you can talk to a friend or… something?"

                "Maybe later," Esther replied, looking over her shoulder at her with a sweet smile.

                "Okay… Well, then, I'll be in my study if you need anything."

                "Working?"

                "Yeah, a little," Gemma murmured, sounding as embarrassed as if she were admitting to a crime. "It's just that I took so much time off last week, and there's this project I have to…"

                "Don't worry," Esther cut her off casually before she had to explain further. "I understand."

                "Thanks, little one. Maybe later, we could go for a walk, eat, or whatever you want."

                "I'll be fine here."

                "Okay," Gemma exclaimed, much calmer and more relaxed.

So she got to work. As she headed to her studio, she watched Esther sit on a kitchen bench before the easel and begin tracing the canvas with a pencil. She looked like a pro at it, just like her father.

                With her niece entertained, Gemma focused on continuing as best she could with the design of the new PurrPetual Petz. But unlike Esther, who was pouring all her inspiration into what she was doing, Gemma had to summon all her willpower to even make a little progress on her design. She could blame recent events for this, but the reality was that the project didn't inspire her in the slightest. Unfortunately, she wasn't able to put it off any longer.

                At one point, while working on the design, she contacted her colleague Tess via video call to share her screen and show her the progress. Although Tess accepted the call, it certainly came as a surprise.

                "Are you really working right now?" Tess asked, her voice echoing through Gemma's headphones. Her face projected into a small box in the bottom corner of the screen. "Where's Esther?"

                "She is fine," Gemma replied nonchalantly as she tweaked the model in her design software. "I got her some canvases and paints, and she's very entertained with them. And if not, I left her my tablet if she wants to use it."

                Tess let out a small groan at that moment. And if that wasn't enough indication of her discontent, a glance at her facial expression on the screen made it even clearer.

                "What? I'm telling you, she's fine, really."

                "And you? Are you okay?" Tess asked, a mixture of curiosity and concern.

                "Well, for someone who doesn't even know how to take care of her plants, I think I'm doing pretty well. I mean, throughout history, women have taken care of children in worse situations than mine, right? Without the internet or even television. And humanity continues here in its own way."

                "I don't know if that's a very feminist comment or not, but I support you, sister," Tess exclaimed more playfully. At least she'd managed to get a smile out of her.

                "I just have to figure out how to do all this without getting fired. David will kill me if I ask for more time off.""

                "Gem, you just lost your sister…"

                "And how long do you think I can use that excuse?" she cut her off sharply before she could say anything else. "He gave us an ultimatum, remember? And that deadline was a week ago. And that's not even mentioning that we spent a hundred thousand dollars of company funds on something he specifically told us not to do. If we don't give him the damn prototype he wants so badly, firing me will be the least of it: he'll sue me for everything I own, my house and niece included."

                Gemma let out a frustrated groan. She dropped the mouse and keyboard and leaned back fully in her chair, staring thoughtfully at the ceiling.

                You sure picked the perfect moment to die, Tricia, she thought suddenly, surprising herself that the thought had even crossed her mind. She quickly tried to push it aside and put it in a drawer. And, of course, to banish any possibility of saying it out loud.

                "Listen," Tess said, snapping her out of her reverie, "David can vent all he wants. But if there's any shred of humanity left in him, he must understand that your focus should be on your niece right now."

                "I don't have much confidence in my future if I have to appeal to David's shred of humanity…"

                The front doorbell rang at that moment, though with her headphones on, Gemma wasn't entirely sure if she'd heard it. She removed one earpiece and listened. The doorbell rang a second time a few seconds later.

                "Someone knocks at the door," she quickly informed Tess. "I'll keep working on the designs and send them to you tomorrow morning for your review."

                "Are you sure, Gem?" Tess asked worriedly.

                "Yes, I'm telling you. I'll talk to you later."

                She hung up and stood up from her chair, hurrying out of the workshop and into the hall.

                "There's a knock at the door," Esther announced, still sitting in front of her easel when Gemma passed near the living room.

                "Yes, I'm coming…"

                She turned to Esther at that moment, and as soon as her eyes fell on her painting, her words stopped abruptly. She stood there for a moment, stunned. Ever since seeing her draw on the plane, she'd known her niece was good, but she hadn't realized just how good...

                On the canvas, she made out the figure of a woman, from the calves up, wearing an elegant dress that flowed downwards, and her long hair blowing in the wind. Much of the drawing remained uncolored, but she could see the dress was white, extending downwards as if blurred like part of the snow in the background. Her hair was brown and beautifully illuminated, making it appear golden in certain areas.

                The woman's features were also quite detailed. The look in her eyes looked very natural, as did the slight smile on her thin lips. That face also seemed familiar… Could it be Tricia …?

                "Hey, that's..." she began, unsure what compliment she would give her. She didn't think she had the right words to describe it. Luckily, the third ring of the doorbell prevented her from having to, and she quickly resumed her walk toward the door.

                Standing in the portico, on the other side, was a woman with long, wavy, reddish hair and lips painted a pretty pink that formed a broad, friendly smile as soon as she saw her.

                "Hello, Mrs. Forrester?" the stranger said cordially.

                "Maybe..." Gemma muttered in a low voice, somewhat suspicious. The woman didn't look all familiar to her, and Gemma was the kind of person who didn't appreciate unexpected visits from strangers in her home.

                "I'm Lydia," the woman explained, noticing the confusion in Gemma's eyes. However, it was clear that this left her even more confused than she already was. "From Child Protection…"

                "Oh!" Gemma exclaimed quickly. That had been the clue she needed to understand. "The therapist, right? The visit, of course... Was that... today?"

                "It's today," Lydia clarified with just the right touch of rigor. "You haven't forgotten, have you?"

                "No, of course not," Gemma replied with complete certainty, although, of course, she was completely lying. "Please come in..."

                Gemma stepped aside, clearing the way for her to enter the house. As she did, Gemma inwardly blamed herself for having completely forgotten about the visit. She mentally scanned the house, trying to tally the damage. Had she washed the dishes? Had she taken out the dirty clothes? Was the bathroom clean? Was the carpet vacuumed? What time was it? Has Esther eaten yet?

                "Nice house," she heard the therapist comment, forcing her to focus on what was right in front of her nose at that moment.

                "Thank you…"

                Once the therapist was inside, she closed the door, and the two of them took a few steps together toward the living room, where Esther was still working on her beautiful painting. As soon as she noticed their presence, she turned to look over her shoulder, observing the visitor with curiosity.

                "Hello," the therapist greeted her kindly. "You must be Esther."

                "Hello," she replied, giving her a small but gentle smile.

                "She is Lydia," Gemma explained from behind her. "She's a state therapist who comes to... I don't know what exactly, sorry."

                "Don't worry," Lydia said. "I'm just here to observe you and ensure this is a suitable home for Esther."

                "I get it," Gemma muttered, nodding, though she was actually lying again. She didn't quite understand what conditions a suitable home for a child should follow in this woman's eyes. She tolerated being judged by her work but not by... everything else.

                Lydia's attention was drawn to the canvas in front of Esther, and her reaction of astonishment was even more significant than Gemma's.

                "That's very nice," she said, genuinely amazed. "Did you make that?"

                "Yes," Esther replied, laughing a little. "My Aunt Gemma got me the materials."

                "That's great. And how did you feel, Esther?"

                The girl lowered her gaze, and it darkened noticeably.

                "It's been difficult at times," she replied with sadness, but almost immediately she smiled again and looked up, this time at Gemma. "But my aunt has been very good to me. I'm so grateful she welcomed me into her lovely home. I feel much better being here."

                Gemma was a little surprised to hear that, but she couldn't help but smile at such kind words. Lydia also seemed pleased with that response, which showed in how she looked at them.

                "I'm happy to hear that," she said in a friendly tone.

                The next hour was much the same. Lydia chatted mostly with Esther, watched Gemma and Esther interact, and took a quick look around the house. Luckily for Gemma, everything was clean and tidy enough to look good. And as the visit progressed, she felt more confident.

                When it was time to leave, Lydia and Gemma went out onto the porch to chat. By this point, the latter was more than convinced that she had passed the inspection as if it were an exam.

                "Well, you've already seen her," Gemma said confidently. "Esther is doing quite well and quickly adapting to the new house."

                "Yes, it seems so," Lydia muttered softly, and for the first time that afternoon, Gemma seemed to sense a certain reluctance in her. "But we mustn't overlook that these extreme changes in a child's life are always difficult to deal with and can cause damage that isn't visible to the naked eye. And in Esther's case, given her entire background, it could be much more so."

                Gemma flinched slightly at the mention of Esther's background. This was the elephant in the room the therapist had deliberately omitted during this first visit.

                "I know," Gemma replied, her head down.

                "Her previous therapist gave me her records," Lydia explained. "I read about what happened four years ago. I also read that Esther still hasn't fully opened up about what happened to her back then."

                "Dr. Segar said she was first trying to help her adjust to her life and family after she returned, and she'd gradually address the subject of the kidnapping in more detail. But then… this happened, and well…"

                Gemma let the sentence hang and shrugged. Lydia stared at her in a way that Gemma found indecipherable.

                "Did you realize that the choker and bracelets she wears are to hide her scars?" the therapist blurted out without any restraint, catching Gemma completely off guard.

                "What? Seriously?" Gemma asked with genuine confusion.

                Since her visit a few days before Tricia's death, she'd been struck by the ribbons Esther always wore around her neck and wrists. But after seeing her particular style, she figured it was part of that: her way of matching accessories to her clothes. She'd even bought her an extra pair of these to make them look better.

                But she never thought she was hiding anything beneath them, much less scars... Could they be marks she'd gotten during her kidnapping? Lydia clearly thought so, and that's why she mentioned it.

                Gemma felt a little sick to her stomach at that moment when she thought about it. How could that woman have noticed it after just an hour of observing her, and she hadn't noticed it in all those days they'd been living together?

                "You should consider seeing a trauma specialist," Lydia said seriously. "As soon as possible."

                "Yeah, sure… but is it really necessary to do it right now? I'm afraid that starting her with a psychiatrist so suddenly and then beginning to scratch at it could affect her or something. Especially when she hasn't fully settled in yet. Besides, she seems fine to me right now. I mean, obviously not fine, fine. She's sad and all that, but it's not like she's lying on the floor crying or anything."

                "She just lost her parents and her brother," Lydia pointed out, her voice harsh. "It's true that everyone deals with grief in their own way. But for a ten-year-old girl, do you think it's normal for her not to cry?"

                Gemma shrugged.

                "I don't know... I didn't cry much when I lost my parents or when..."

                She stopped suddenly as she realized what she was about to say. But it was still too late, and she could tell by the inquisitive way Lydia looked at her at that very moment.

                "Tell me, how close you were to your sister?" she asked suddenly, once again catching her off guard.

                "What? Why are you asking me that? We weren't talking about me."

                "You did it first."

                "No, I was just… giving an example that sometimes not crying doesn't necessarily mean something bad."

                Lydia stared at her again, which made Gemma feel judged entirely. And that certainly triggered something inside her that she didn't like. She tensed instantly, crossed her arms, and shifted her weight from one foot to the other.  

                "Answer me something else," Lydia commented next, sounding a bit more conciliatory. "Did you really want this?"

                "If I wanted what? For my sister and her family to die?" Gemma exclaimed defensively.

                "Suddenly having to take care of a ten-year-old girl. Going from being alone, independent, and doing whatever you want to be a mother in a split second…"

                "I'm not her mother," Gemma blurted out purely out of reflex, without really thinking about it. She herself was surprised by this, but she didn't regret it. "And what was the alternative? Letting my niece be sent to an orphanage?"

                "Is that why you agreed?" Lydia asked curiously. "Because there was no other alternative?"

                "You make it sound like a terrible thing. I'm just trying to do what's best for Esther."

                "Me too. That's literally my job. So please don't think of me as your enemy. We both want the same thing."

                Gemma didn't respond, just nodded. Objectively, she knew she was right about everything she'd said. But her more emotional and reactive side prevented her from seeing it that clearly.

                Once Lydia left, Gemma took a moment to spend time with Esther, perhaps having been bitten by the little guilt bug. After what Lydia told her, she couldn't help but notice the ribbons the girl wore. As they each ate a peanut butter sandwich at the table, Gemma thought she caught a glimpse of the marks on her neck peeking out from under the ribbon, and that instantly gave her goosebumps.

                What had the people who took her done to her? Gemma seriously considered for a moment asking her about that, but didn't have the courage.

                Later that night, after dinner, Esther went to her room to sleep, and Gemma returned to her study to continue designing the infamous prototype. She wanted to finish at least three proposals for Tess and Cole to review the next day and decide on the feasibility of one of them. But her intentions weren't yielding results because, on top of her lack of motivation to do her work, she had to add the various thoughts swirling around in her head after that afternoon.

                How would she deal with all those problems Esther had inside her that she hadn't dared to talk about yet? Yes, she could send Esther to therapy and let the specialist take care of them. But sooner or later, she would come to her for support and advice, like her aunt... or like her mother. And she couldn't even deal with her own problems; how would she deal with a child's?

                As confident as she had felt earlier, by now, she was beginning to feel overwhelmed by the reality of it all…

                After some hours into the night, she still wasn't making much progress, or not in a way that was entirely satisfactory. And when she tried to take a sip from her cup of coffee in search of some liquid inspiration, she noticed it was already gone. So, this seemed like a good time to take a break and go to the kitchen for another one.

                Gemma walked through the dark hallways, still mulling over one thing or another in her head. She practically put the coffee maker on autopilot and stood there watching and waiting for the coffee to be ready, though not looking at anything in particular.

                "Was this really a good idea?" she thought, somewhat lost in herself. "If only I had a little more help..."

                Whose? Her deceased parents? Her nonexistent partner? Her friends who were really just her coworkers…?

                Gemma had to face reality: she was alone in this. Although, well, maybe not alone. After all, now there was…

                Turning to the side, she suddenly let out a small squeal and jumped in fright, sensing the presence of someone else in the kitchen she hadn't noticed. Esther, wearing her long white nightgown (another old-fashioned style she apparently liked), was just entering the kitchen and walking toward the sink.

                "Good heavens, Esther," Gemma exclaimed, still shaken, one hand on her chest. "You almost scared me to death."

                "I'm sorry," the little girl apologized, embarrassed. "I just wanted to wash my brushes."

                Esther then stood in front of the sink, and Gemma noticed that she was indeed holding three paintbrushes in her right hand. She turned on the water and began soaking them under the stream.

                "Were you painting so late?" Gemma asked curiously. "I thought you were already asleep."

                "I had a stroke of inspiration and wanted to finish the last details. Are you angry?"

                "No, no. I understand what that is."

                Esther finished rinsing the brushes, shook them out a bit, and then set them on the edge of the sink to drain.

                "Why are you still awake, Aunt?" the little girl asked.

                Gemma sighed heavily.

                "You could say I'm looking for my own inspiration. Hey, I could use a kid's opinion. Would you help me out for a minute?"

                Esther responded with a nod and followed her aunt to her workshop.

                "Do you remember the pet I wanted to give you the last time I visited you?"

                "Yes..." Esther replied a little hesitantly.

                "Well, I have to present a new model this week. It has to be simpler and more economical but without compromising quality. And that's easier said than done. But look."

                Gemma sat in her chair at the computer and opened her design software with the model she was working on. It projected a 3D visualization of the prototype, which rotated, moved, and could be viewed from different directions. She could change the color scheme using a few options on the side panel, including the fur, eyes, feet, and arms. It was a design quite similar to the one Gemma had wanted to give Esther, although some small visual details made it look a little different and, indeed, simpler.

                "What do you think? Does it still seem like something a kid your age would enjoy?"

                Esther observed the model in silence. Her mouth twisted into a grimace that bordered slightly on disgust.

                "I prefer normal dolls," she said after a while, to her aunt's dismay.

                "Yes, sure," Gemma whispered slowly. "But you can't talk or interact with a conventional doll."

                "And can you do that with this?" Esther asked in confusion, pointing at the screen.

                "Sure, look."

                Gemma minimized the design window and opened one of the test videos she had stored. It showed a child in a colorful room with one of the latest models of the PurrPetual Petz. The child spoke to the pet, and it responded in a squeaky, playful voice; the child laughed, and the toy laughed with him. They continued like this for almost three minutes, exchanging phrases with each other, always in a humorous tone.

                Esther leaned forward, watching the video closely, her brow furrowed.

                "Impressive, isn't it?" Gemma commented, almost proudly. However, her niece didn't seem to share her excitement.

                "But it's not really replying to him, is it?" the girl asked suddenly, taking her a little by surprise. "Those are just programmed responses you gave the toy. It doesn't even understand what it's saying to that boy."

                Gemma was impressed by the accurate deduction, especially coming from someone her age.

                "You're a very clever girl," Gemma pointed out. "But they're not exactly programmed responses, like toys from twenty or thirty years ago. It's a little more complicated… The pets have basic AI, which formulates the most appropriate response to the child's comment based on patterns of behavior and dialogue that have fed into our algorithm for a long time. In simple terms…"

                "In simple terms," Esther interrupted her first, "it's just pretending to understand the child and to talk to him..."

                "Well... something like that," Gemma acknowledged, resisting the urge to emphasize that it was more complex than that. Although she had to accept that, in broad terms, that was exactly what it was: just a mere simulation, however good or believable it was. Anything more sophisticated than that surpassed the limitations of these pets, and even more so those of this new, simple model that David wanted so much.

                However, it didn't go beyond the limitations of what Gemma knew she could do. In fact, she knew very well she could do something much more advanced than that, something much, much better…

                "But..." she whispered with an air of mystery, drawing the girl's full attention to her. Excitement shone brightly in Gemma's eyes. "What if I told you that there could be a toy that wouldn't have to pretend to talk to you but would actually understand what you say, respond to you, and learn right along with you from your interactions?"

                "Like a person?" Esther asked, curious.

                "Almost like a person, yes," Gemma agreed quickly. "How would something like that sound to you?"

                Esther wrinkled her face thoughtfully, looking sideways at the screen. The video of the boy and the PurrPetual Petz kept playing on loop.

                "If that were the case, then it wouldn't be a toy or a pet," Esther said thoughtfully. "It would be more like a friend."

                Gemma's face lit up, fueled by the glow that always came with the beginning of an idea; the revelation that had eluded her, now coming back to her with great force.

                "Yes, that's right," she exclaimed vigorously, then let out a high-pitched laugh. "Thank you, little one," she said immediately afterward, quickly hugging a confused Esther. "I have to get back to work. Go to sleep, okay?"

                She then turned away, and Esther looked at her, still bewildered, perhaps even wanting to ask what that had been. But in the end, the girl said nothing and simply followed her aunt's instructions.

                "See you tomorrow," she replied in a low voice as she walked calmly toward the hallway.

                Once Esther left, Gemma wasted no time; she immediately picked up her phone and called Tess. She didn't answer the first time, so she dialed a second time. It took her a while to respond, but she finally heard a long yawn coming from the other end of the line, followed by her friend's sleepy voice.

                "Gemma? Do you know what time it is?"

                "Not really," Gemma confessed bluntly. "I'm sorry, but I'm having a stroke of inspiration. I want to see you and Cole very early tomorrow morning here at my house. It's an emergency meeting."

                "Have you finished the prototype model yet?" Tess asked with interest, sounding a little more awake by now.

                "To hell with the PurrPetual Petz. We'll get back to the Model 3 Generative Android. I'll move the presentation with David to Friday, whether he likes it or not. I'll use my orphaned niece's letter if necessary. And we'll focus all our energy and time this week on finishing our working prototype as we'd long planned and present it to David that day."

                "Are you serious?" Tess exclaimed into the phone, now not only awake but almost scandalized. "David is expecting to see a new PurrPetual Petz prototype. If you come up with something different…"

                "He'll either love me or hate me. He'll either promote me or fire me," Gemma concluded without the slightest tremor in her voice. "All or nothing, Tess; I'm going all in."

                "And we with you, apparently."

                "If this doesn't work, I'll say I forced you two, and you just stick to that version. You'll be fine, I promise."

                Even in the silence and distance, Gemma could sense Tess's doubt seeping from the phone like liquid.

                "Are you sure about this, Gem?" her friend asked hesitantly.

                "I'm sure enough," Gemma replied, much more firmly than she had. "This Friday, M3GAN will finally see the light of day."

[princess-of-the-corner]

I've seen several fic authors reference this idea that ML season 2 was meant to set up a Miraculous Civil War thing.

No clue if that's true but I found the idea interesting and also realize you actually can do that very easily with some episode shuffling and more evenly divided focus, IE:

Episode 1 - The Collector This remains largely the same except Chat does become aware there's a third party that Ladybug knows of but he doesn't.

Episode 2 - Riposte Essentially the same, this is just to get Kagami introduced early, though Ladybug seems oddly... anxious compared to usual.

Episode 3 - Sapotis This is where things start to change a little. Mostly in that Chat starts quietly expressing frustration at being kept out of the loop even if he & Rena get on well.

Episode 4 - Anansi The next verse is the same as the first in this case, as canon, just that Chat is getting more & more grouchy, & Plagg agrees but cannot tell him anything.

Ladybug's penchant to run off is also being noted by others; the reason is that that Marinette now has a 'responsible adult' available, so she's sort of defaulting to Fu even as Ladybug, hence her earlier OOC anxiety in Riposte.

Episode 5 - Frozer His efforts to both wine & dine Ladybug and press for info at what is going on. But because of Marinette's respect for adults she can't bring herself to tell him. This leads to both the 'date' with Kagami & Chat acting as brisk as he does during the battle.

Episode 6 - Style Queen Close to canon but with some notably major if subtle shifts.

Gabriel outlines he's been experimenting with his recent Akuma & determined how to make his strongest & most effective one. He needs someone with a vast idea of their own power, intense emotions beyond the norm and no morals. Luckily the worst person he knows is coming to Paris & she will be his magnum opus!

Other changes including Chloe arguing with Nathalie after her mother leaves & then going to find Adrien, followed y Marinette & Alya when Style Queen transforms and goes for Nathalie first. She want meant to evacuate Adrien before Audrey transformed so yeah that plan failed & she's dusted despite Gabriel trying to order Audrey to focus.

This focus issue comes up again soon when as canon she's captured Ladybug but is now turning on Adrien who is still not golden & about to transform. Gabriel tries to make her focus, but is failing & realizes he underestimate her malice & will. Chloe seemingly talks her out of killing Adrien & Ladybug... Except all Audrey does it dismiss Ladybug and kill Adrien.

The rest of the episode goes largely as canon save that Audrey is blitzing much of Paris for funsies as she's gone rogue. When Plagg destroy the Eiffel Tower we see her reforming into a bigger more pissed off Style Queen before her items broken.

Finally, the biggest shift? The one that causes the dominoes to start falling?

Adrien passes up the chance to get taken back by Ladybug, offering a polite kiss on the hand & follows Chloe. Both cos he's still a bit frustrated & also because he can see Audrey yelling at Chloe already.

Thus he sees her pick up the box and is there as Chat Noir to collect it that night, fade to black.

Episode 7 - No Queen Wasp When Ladybug goes back to get the Bee Miraculous (flashback) we see Chat is there too, intent on making up for his absence he asks what she's looking for. Not wanting to seem irresponsible, Ladybug lies.

This leads Chat to hide the Bee Miraculous & then return it to Chloe who while unhappy Ladybug won't be pleased with her, really wants to be a hero.

Plagg: You sure you can work with that brat? Adrien: I work with a lot of brats (Gives Plagg a stare) Plagg: Hahaha... You meant other models right Adrien? Adrien!

We see Chloe get the Miraculous back & Pollen being surprisingly chill with all this & its followed by Chloe deducing Adrien's identity because, "Who else but you would care about me?"

The next segment of the episode proceed mostly as canon but when it seems Chloe is going to reveal herself, Adrien grabs her arm and guides her to his dressing room.

We see her breakdown over the act her mother doesn't love her & Adrien... Can't really offer much, but suggests she go out for a 'run' to clear her head & maybe something will come up (An Akuma)

She does so & is seen by Alya only as QB & this leads to Ladybug trying to track her down, which becomes a discussion, then argument, then a fight.

Chat Nior joins, admitting he's at fault but also angry he's been kept out of the loop which LB defends because its not her call, which QB thinks is crap on both of them cos one implied LB supported her being a hero & the other is keeping her friend in the dark.

Hawk Moth has regained hope at seeing the fight & almost can't pick who he wants to Akumatize so he goes for the one with the most anger, Chloe.

But, she manages to fight it off in rather epic fashion as well that conveys just how terrifyingly powerful an Akumatized Miraculous Holder would be.

QB staggers back and insists she will be a hero, not even Ladybug can tell her to quit that, then topples off the roof and slinks off while Chat & Ladybug part in confused frustration.

We also see Ladybug comforting Chloe at one point, mistaking the conversation they're having for one about Chloe's mother which could lead to her attempt to mend their relationship.

Meanwhile Gabriel schemes, ranting about the power he felt, about the cracks in the armor and how he has a whole new canvas with which to create.

Fu is unhappy but decides if the person can resist an Akuma they will be a tolerable ally for now, as he 'suspects' he knows who Chat chose & can retrieve Pollen if things don't work out.

We see more of Marinette pushing for Chat's inclusion and discussing her own concerns about how much she's come to rely on Fu.

As well as some of Fu's motives for keeping things so quiet - The less people who know the better, he's paranoid & cautious, Ladybug's magic is better suited for his skills & Chat's schedule makes him hard to get ahold of.

Its integral that him being cut out if not malice, but its already created distrust & its going to take time to mend that. It will be hard given Fu's paranoia & frustration with Chat essentially stealing a Miraculous.

_____________________________

After this it becomes a bit less clear, especially as I would ideally want to bring Kagami & Longg in as well, but this I feel is a strong enough set up for a potential "civil war" angle.

Because the episodes/season that would follow would involve Gabriel not merely sending Akuma but actively trying to drive wedges between the heroes & sew doubt in public.

The situation with hidden identities VS no hidden identities creating friction within the expanded hero group & sides even being picked in public as the dispute becomes more public with stuff like Prime Queen.

Which I think would lead to an eventual shift as well when some identities do slip between them and Hawk Moths game begins reaching its final conclusion, with Volpina being brought back into the fray.

Some of the specifics sort of vary to me, but I think there would be a clash between the Miraculous team, but also some changing sides based on key revelations. Namely, the substitute heroes finding out Ladybug & Chat's identities, but the pair refusing to hear it until the matters resolves causing some to switch sides.

IE, Nino goes with Adrien once he finds out he's Chat Noir, and either Kagami goes with Marinette cos friendship or respect for Ladybug, or Chloe does a surprise switch, possibly due to guilt or shifting dynamics.

Who switches and why would likely depend on whether the issue is meant to bleed into season 3 or if season 2 resolves it. IE, is this a one off conflict that sets up Heroes Day (Or a similar season finale worthy event) or is Heroes Day/Finale the tipping point that splits the team in half for the duration of season. Either way identities are revealed at the end, its just a matter of how the rest shakes out.

NOTES:

Despair Bear still happens, but its also tied to Adrien basically saying, "You can't be a great hero as QB & a bad person as Chloe" as she tries to balance her own issues, pleasing her mother & being a hero.

Malediktator also may tie into some things, like with Chloe trying to befriend Marinette but also have her be mean cos hey Marinette wanted she & her mom to get along & respects Audrey this makes sense right? Leading to rejection that leads her to wanting to leave Paris & a resolution between Chloe & ladybug even if the latter doesn't realize it at first, that also chills things between Marinette and Chloe.

Fu may or may not make it out of this season with his memories intact, depends n how many season 3 elements that could be swapped out, but that's the gist of it.

Also even if the 'civil war' did persist into or basically serve as the central focus for season 3, it'd not strictly stop cooperation over Akuma or Sentimonsters. It'd be more of a undercurrent rivalry situation that may lead to some odd seating arrangements now that everyone's gone up a year.

Honestly I feel like a civil war for the Team should happen at some point because like. Mari tries her best but she's made a LOT of mistakes and hurt them all in the process.

I don't mean this in a 'fuck her' way but in a like. They're going to butt heads and be understandably frustrated and I don't think Mari will change immediately because she's stuck in a 'yeah this hurts but it's for the Greater Good™ mindset' that she won't get over until something REALLy gets to her.

[taybatwo2]

Monster High Skullector Nightmare Before Christmas Review Part 1 of 2

I don’t know how I managed to snag one for my friend and me on that poorly done and hellish drop (it was also my first time I have ever tried ordering two Skullectors), but they came in and I finally had time to review my set.

The hand painted prototypes on the front of the box are so lovely (especially Sally’s delicate eyebrows and blush that are missing on her final doll).

The back of the box sleeve: “J ❤️ S True Love Never Dies. Debuting in the fan-favorite film, Disney Tim Burton’s The Nightmare Before Christmas, Pumpkin King Jack Skellington and dreamer Sally embark on a wild misadventure that capture the spirit of Halloween, Christmas and true love. This collector doll pack celebrates the moment that Jack and Sally realize they’re meant to be together forever. Dressed in a boospoke suit with a frightening skeleton print. Jack is ready for a haunting night with Sally, who is dressed in a creeptastic off-shoulder dress with a petrifying patchwork print.

The defrightful collector item captures the nightmarish fun that awaits every night in Halloween Town.”

……I always thought their romance was a bit slap dashed at the very end, but they are a hauntingly lovely couple.

Their box with the sleeve off! It’s a very lovey set up. With the gate from the graveyard being shown, Zero (which I would have gladly traded for Sally’s purse), and a tombstone that has Frankie’s symbols, and the Monster High crest.

The back of the box has another lovely photo of the dolls. I like the lighting on them in this photo.

I like how they made the artwork all scratchy and hatchy like Tim Burton’s art style. They also added some snowflakes, skulletes, Draculaura’s bat symbols, and a heart with Clawdeen’s G1 shirt pattern.

Okay, enough of the box! Let’s open this sucker up!

……anyone else feeling a draft……?

Well apparently Jack has too much booty for his pants to be fully closed in the back when they were packaging him. Haha!

More under the cut:

The inside panel, sans the plastic and Jack and Sally. I love that they included the Spiral Hill, two trees featuring Halloween Town and the Valentine’s Day Town doorways (although the hinges seem to be missing), and Sally’s basket to Jack (something else that I would have preferred over her thread purse).

A closer look at the trees in the corner. Clever choices in trees: one representing Halloween and the other the love between the characters.

Okay dokey, now onto Sally. I thought I was going to like her less than Jack in this set, but she is actually a GORGEOUS doll.

How they did her eyes, her eyelashes, her face stitching, and even her cooler blue body stitching is just so lovely. I AM SO GLAD they did not give her “regular monster high eyes.” I love it when the designers experiment and give their ghouls, boos, and mansters new looks while still calling back to their roots (she might have the Tim Burton inspired eyes, but her proportions are all Monster High). Her hair is also a really soft (Saran….?). It’s not overly red or brown, but a nice mix of the two.

Her stitching has been simplified, which is a shame, but expected. Her right arm should have had her stitches moved down, but I really like the stitching they kept on her legs and chest and neck.

I actually like her mermaid gown more than I thought I would (Monster High really needs to try some new silhouettes). There is actual thread stitching going down the center of her top and around the collar. The spider-web like lace is also very soft and flowey and not at all stiff. The green skullete on her skirt is also not super distracting. It also lays very nicely around her shoulders and bust.

While the gown looks nice on her, I have seen cooler looking fan created dress/outfit designs for Sally than what they have here….but it does have some details I was just expecting to be printed on.

Her shoes are nicely detailed (duh, it’s Monster High), with the stitches in them looking like they’re actually pulling the different segments together (like movie Sally’s stitches do). The heels are a reference to some of the potions/ingredients that Sally uses in the movie.

The font looks spot on, while the outside of the jars have been simplified.

The soles of her shoes have more of that scratching ink pen texture that Tim Burton seems so fond of.

I first thought she had a dead opossum/rat on her head band (like in the movie), but it actually is made up of vines, and several of the flowers Sally picks in the movie that foretells the future of Jack’s Christmas to her.

Her bag is definitely a slightly altered model of G2 Beast Pets Frankie’s purse (on another note, I find it a fun coincidence that G2 Frankie has blue-ish stitches like Sally does). In my opinion, it is the weakest of her pieces….why couldn’t we have gotten Zero with that extra plastic?!? Mattel loves putting pets where they don’t belong in Barbie and other Monster High releases, why not this one (the answer is probably the extra cost of Jack’s new head and body sculpt).

Her earrings are black cats, and look fairly similar to the black cat that shows up in the movie.

Her body color is a much stronger blue than I originally thought (I was thinking it would be closer to G1 Frankie, Scarah, or Lagoona’s). But it looks closer to G3 Frankie’s.

The second and last part of my review will feature a close up of Sally’s head sculpt and a full review of Jack, as I ran out of space for pictures here.

[educatedartisticguess]

For the Love of Trinkets (cont.)

Continuing my previous ramblings, this continuation chapter of For the Love of Trinkets is a discussion of some personal favorites from history. With a love for interior design and clutter, I felt it was necessary to cover trinket boxes, the idea of catch-all dishes and plates not for use, and figurines.

While snuffboxes had a specific purpose during their era, they are really just trinket boxes coming in all shapes and mostly small sizes. These glorified modern-day tobacco tins held snuff, which was used for the practice of inhaling a pinch of floral-scented tobacco; most likely first used by natives of Brazil and brought to colonized countries in the late 15th century by Christopher Columbus after his crew observed indigenous Caribbean peoples sniffing snuff.1 After the rise of the practice's popularity in Europe, ornately decorated snuffboxes were considered valuable gifts.2

This specific box pictured is a favorite as I can appreciate the femininity of the florals, the enameled gold flourishes, and because I am a big cherub enthusiast (something about tiny little rosy-cheeked babies with wings just sparks joy in my heart).3 Sure, we could say this box’s decorative imagery was made to tell some sort of culturally significant story about the nymphs and goddesses of Greek mythology, but looking past that, getting down to it, it is just a snuffbox. Observing this specific piece from 19th-century Europe, I think it was meant to sit and look pretty. As an artist, I can very much appreciate the craftsmanship put into these containers and the historical significance behind them, but as a trinket collector, I am compelled to buy one every time I see them at my local antique shop with the intent to hide other little trinkets inside.

Another notable functional trinket of times past is this Kenzan-style Dish in the Shape of Chrysanthemum (乾山様式　菊形皿) from Japan’s Edo Period.4 This ceramic plate has intact textures, enamels, and vibrant colors. Just an item taking inspiration from nature that is pleasant to look at, fitting my definition of a trinket. This item is similar to something I would use as a catch-all or trinket dish by the front door in my own home.

While technically a functional item, I doubt it was used very often, if ever, like those painted plates at your grandmother's house in the china cabinet. Eventually, they will probably be passed down when your loved one dies, and they may never be used as a functional dish at the dinner table again. They function as purely decorative items meant to be kept on display in a rarely opened cabinet in the dining room, much like works in a case at the museum. 

Last, but not least, is an item that is part of my favorite trinket category, figurines. Figurines often document how humans viewed creatures throughout history, sometimes made with life-like accuracy and sometimes with a bit more whimsical artistic expression. This particular figurine brings enjoyment through simplicity. Discovered in Yortan and assumed to be from -2700/-2500 (Early Bronze II), I can only use modern terms to describe this figure5; it is “just a little guy.” This trinket is up for interpretation, is it a child's toy or purely decorative, is it a human in a necklace or a mythical creature of ancient lost story tales? When looking at this piece, I see a bug-eyed and round friend, like a Weeble(s) Wobble.

1 Encyclopædia Britannica, inc. (n.d.). Snuff | Snuff-taking, History, Health Effects. Encyclopædia Britannica. https://www.britannica.com/topic/snuff 

2 Encyclopædia Britannica, inc. (n.d.-b). Snuffbox | Pocket, Decorative, Metalwork. Encyclopædia Britannica. https://www.britannica.com/art/snuffbox 

3 Snuffbox. Europe. 19th century. https://collections.louvre.fr/en/ark:/53355/cl010099656 

4 Kenzan-style Dish in the Shape of Chrysanthemum. Japan. Early 19th century.  https://www.metmuseum.org/art/collection/search/62913

5 Figurine. Yortan. Early Bronze II. https://collections.louvre.fr/en/ark:/53355/cl010121539

[joshua-jorcoat]

Nothing to do with anything, but I have a pencilcase that I've had since farther back than my memories go. I called Him Flf Kerfuzckle (Now Kerfuzzle) when I found him in a box at Grandma's one day, and he helped me get through middle school with fewer mental breakdowns than I would've had otherwise. I still have him even as an adult, and had to patch him with some red felt, cause the pencils kept poking through his bum. (He has a silver lining inside the pocket that tore off on one side, so it stopped protecting the fabric on the outside quite a while ago) This is what he looks like.

Now, I've always wondered what he's meant to be. I thought he was a demon at first, but people have thought he's a dog, a cat, a gerbil, all sorts of things. So eventually I just said he was a dragon and called it good. I've researched the heck out him, having looked at his tag, and finding out that he's a DanDee Collector's Choice item. So when I was checking to see if DanDee had made devil/demon items before, I was surprised to find that they had. So it would make sense if Flf is a demon, considering he looks very similar to other demon characters DanDee has made before. But- the only thing on the internet I could find about him was an Ebay listing calling him...

A- ...caterpillar!? Like- I guess? I suppose I could see a caterpillar being red with black horns, and black and orange markings. Red caterpillars do exist after all. But it doesn't really compute in my brain that that plushie is a caterpillar. So I've just continued calling him a dragon. But now I kind of want to embrace the caterpillar aspect. I've drawn him a couple times before as a dragon, as well as many times as a demon, but now I've gotta make him a caterpillar-like dragon, with mandibles, and more limbs. So uh- surprise art attack! BLAH!

(Excuse the crappy all-pen coloring. It's how I used to color him in middle school, so I figured I'd color him the same way I always used to, and it may or may not have been a mistake- (And let's face it- DanDee did not pick good colors to begin with)

Anyways. Safe to say, I'll have this guy for a long time going forward!

[qdbs-writes]

Probably a bit of a strange request. But is it possible to have a little jealousy of the combatants (Kuai Liang, Hanzo and Raiden) when they see their crush in one of Johnny Cage's sweatshirts (they were just friends, and she liked his jacket, so Cage just gave it to her)?

not strange at all nonny, i love this one!

MK Lads x Reader Jealousy Headcanons

After a weekend of binge-watching Marie Kondo, Johnny Cage was desperate to get rid of some of his stuff and was more than happy to let you help. Going through the boxes of dusty trophies and moth-bitten costumes was rather dull until you uncovered the leather jacket Johnny wore for Ninja Mime 2, your favourite movie of all time! It was a rather standard-looking brown jacket apart from a giant copy of Johnny's signature embroidered onto the back in gold thread. You don't even have to ask, Johnny hears your excited gasp and without looking up says "Keep it.". If hanging onto his junk makes you happy, who was Johnny to stop you? However, he was amused by the thought of how your boyfriend might react.

Kuai Liang (Sub Zero)

When you walk in wearing an oversized jacket, Liang assumes you've been thrift shopping or something. Normally that would be all he thinks until he sees Johnny's humongous golden signature on the back.

Now Liang and you had been dating for a while but the idea of sharing clothes never really came up. Liang's perpetual coldness meant that he didn't have any proper jackets and it never bothered you because you had always just worn your own.

But seeing you in Johnny's jacket brings up an unexpected feeling of inadequacy in Liang. This jacket could do the one thing he couldn't; it kept you warm. It gave rise to the fear that perhaps Liang couldn't provide for you properly.

He will hold this sadness inside himself until you ask him what's wrong. You're completely confused when he mentions that he can't fulfill your needs until he mentions your new jacket, and you explain it's a collector's item that Johnny gave you, much to Liang's relief.

Hanzo Hasashi (Scorpion)

Hanzo wouldn't call himself possessive (this is a lie and he is fooling no one). But when he sees you wearing Johnny's jacket, he can't help the jealousy that burns in his chest.

He manages to keep it in until he sees you snuggling up inside the oversized jacket, sniffing in its musk. That's when he sees red. Over to Johnny's house he goes, ready to kick his ass. Johnny, now completely terrified, at first has no idea what he's talking about. He has a lot of jackets, how is he supposed to keep track?

When Hanzo begins to angrily explain your obsession with one of Johnny's old jackets, Cage explains that it's not like that and he didn't want it anymore so he let you have it.

Hanzo, now embarrassed by his outburst, will apologise and make his way home, where he walks in on you watching the director's cut of Ninja Mime 2. Accepting that he had made a complete fool of himself that day, he joins you on the couch for some cuddles.

Raiden

In his long life, Raiden has learned that there are strange rituals and habits that Mortals keep, particularly in relationships. In dating you, Raiden has come to understand that even the most innocuous things can have deeply rooted meanings and intentions.

So imagine Raiden's confusion when he sees you wearing another man's jacket. But not just any man: celebrity, superstar Johnny Cage's jacket. Traditionally when a man gives someone his jacket, it is an expression of protection, possession, and often romantic interest.

But you are dating him, so Raiden can't wrap his head around why in the name of the Elder Gods you would be wearing Johnny Cage's jacket. If this was a challenge for your heart, then Raiden would not lose.

Que the lightning God covering you in his own clothes, placing his hat on your head, etc. You are as delighted as you are confused by this new attention Raiden is giving you, and soon you're wearing his spare robes more than Johnny's old jacket. Neither you nor Johnny particularly cares how much that jacket is worn but in Raiden's mind, he has successfully defeated Johnny for your love.

[voidcat]

— letters to no one (life eternal)

characters: rain ghoul, gn!reader

notes & wc: mcd, angst, hurt/(little) no comfort, slice of life if you squint?, I kept the CoD vague on purpose to leave it up for interpretation but what I intended for it is between the lines. from rain’s perspective, this one is just… sad. – 1.6k

a/n: you can read this while listening to I Love You So by The Walters, mostly for the melody and the outro (and The Loneliest by Maneskin)

Out of all the ghouls, Rain has always been the sentimental one.

Shy and sensitive of the world, caring of the ones in his life, among everything, he is a collector– has always been one.

Rain has collected many things in his lifetime, and continues to do so. Be it guitar picks, instruments, note sheets of all kinds of music, for all types of instruments… as for his favorite– he likes to collect memories.

Tickets, trinkets, books old and new, notepads, even small silly doodles the other ghouls scribble on random pieces of paper-like material– anything that carries a memory within, Rain keeps it.

All the collecting and keeping, over the years his collection has only grown. Yet for all its size, he doesn’t check it, rarely going through some items again, from time to time.

To reminisce about the past, to laugh about a moment with someone else– everything else he comes across, it’s usually when he is replacing items or reorganizing the space.

That’s how he finds himself like this now. 

Sitting on the floor, in the cold, in the dead of the night. The halls behind the doors remain silent, even the ghouls are asleep now.

In his hand sits an old napkin.

It has gotten filthy, probably contaminated as well ever since the time he kept it. 

It is almost funny, this item of his collection was not intentional. That he just… forgot about the napkin in his pocket for a very long time, accidentally pulling it out when fishing for something else in his pockets, until one day he gave in, sure, better to have you there as well since all you do is replay that moment inside my head.

Crumpled up and some parts having a different texture than the other, he really should’ve just tossed this one out, or got it cleaned. But that would eradicate all the purpose, the memory hidden in it as well.

Rain still remembers the day, the moment itself, as clear as the fires of hell.

He can still hear the sudden breaking into a sob, a sound that clawed at his chest, the wetness he could feel on his shoulder, the way your body would shake, how you stared off into space when he wiped the tears off your face.

He hates himself for thinking like that but even then you looked beautiful.

You were never much of a crier.

Not in front of others, not even when alone with yourself, as you revealed to him once later, that you need complete darkness or to shut your eyes as tight as you could, to be able to cry, to cry in a fashion you claimed ‘proper’.

When he asked what you meant by that, your silence told him this was not a conversation for now, for another moment of vulnerability and breakdown.

The napkin in his hand again, as if you’re sitting next to him, in front of him, like back then, Rain still recalls each spot on your face that he dried, cradling your cheek, brushing strands of hair away and tucking them, knowing well how their presence could overwhelm you at times.

A part of Rain cherishes the memory as much as he hates it.

The show of trust, the vulnerability, the intimacy shared which you’ve offered him– he knows the two of you have always been close but still, this, this is something grand for your standards, for the person you are.

Hate the moment, cherish the memory– this is not a luxury Rain has when it comes to you, not anymore.

The napkin still in his hand, the small box of other trinkets by his leg, half a meter away a stack of what seems to be paper and envelopes tied together; he sits like that, in vain, waiting, thinking about nothing in particular.

Taking in a deep breath and closing his eyes, he lets his shoulders drop.

Rain misses you.

The letters ahead of him still smell like you, he makes sure of it, preserving them so your scent will remain a tad longer.

Rain has been missing you for quite some time now, for far too long.

He doesn't know how much has passed anymore but he knows it passed too much, too long, long enough to make him question while he is still here as well, has his time not come yet?

With each memory, each little thing in his collection, he honors a memory, grieves a part of you. Be it happy, sad, he is grateful he got to see so many sides of you.

This doesn’t stop him from wishing he saw more though, it never will.

Because when it comes to you, Rain is selfish.

And how can he not be? You wouldn't blame him for it if you knew, you would understand just as he does.

He does and yet, he still aches for you all the same, wishing he could be that pillar for you, that change, that escape from everything else, the reality, the people, the worries and the stress. 

With you, for you, Rain becomes a selfish person, always wishing for more, hoping for more, just a little longer, a little closer, a bit more, he craves and craves as his heart aches for more, his hunger unappeased. 

For ghouls, emotions do not always progress the same way they do for humans. They do not get attached like them, do not love like them, do not hate or experience sorrow like them.

Yet the beauty of feelings always precede barriers that separate them. And once they feel, they do so with an intensity, with passion, with a weight to it, putting their everything, pouring their beings into it.

Now Rain understands why they often do not allow people to have one last look.

This pain deep inside him would be tolerable, had it been few years more, an unexplained reason, something to brush off as genetics, ‘that's just how life is.’, an accident– anything to ease it, to justify the little passage of time.

In normal circumstances he should’ve felt like this years later, not thinking about how early everything is, too soon, too soon, his mind whispers at him constantly.

He understands why they explain that forbiddance to preserve the memory.

Because when Rain thinks of you now, he can see your smile, the warmth in it, but the image shifts so quickly to that neutral expression you usually wore, now to stay on your face forever– until time begins to decay, piece by piece, limb by limb you begin to disintegrate.

The feeling of your warmth replaced with how cold and heavy you’ve gotten. Rigor mortis is no joke but Rain never thought it’d feel this heavy on his shoulders.

Eyes staring blankly, away, to nothing in particular, to no one in particular, to the void and the void stares back.

Of course, not to him, rarely with him. There was a spark in your eyes, that crease in your face, how you always said your face would ache when you're with him, ‘it's because i am smiling so much, my muscles hurt.’ 

He was aware of the sadness laced within your explaination, but now it feels like a hammer to his chest.

And above all, Rain misses seeing the beauty of life, of love, the brightness and the warmth of the sun on you.

The color red only disgusts him now.

He never liked this look on you, the one you had on default, as you’ve explained it, the one you wore often, the one you had when nobody was watching– of course, he was, but it seems you weren’t aware, or you just didn't have any energy left in you to care. Maybe you just knew pretending would only make it worse, and offered him an honest side of you, no masks, no acting, no pretending when you’re with him.

Rain never liked how integrated with the void you were, and he hates how indifferent you look now.

As if nothing has changed, as if you were dead from the beginning, not quite living even when you were alive, save for a few exceptions– most of which you shared with him, he hopes.

It is a selfish wish, he knows, but he doesn’t have anything else to hope for at this point, except to be a source of solace when you were still with him, still laughing, still warm in his arms and not like some dead weight.

Rain always knew of the inevitable sorrow, the fate that awaited the two of you. Humans are fragile beings, they never last as long as ghouls do.

He knew this day would come eventually, accepting the risks all the same, willing to experience that gut wrenching, backstabbing, choking sorrow. Aether warned him, Papas warned him, some just looked your way with envy, some with pity– 

Yet when weighing the options, a lifetime spent with you, even if just a small portion of his life, seems worth the heartache that’ll follow.

And it is, as he learns firsthand now.

All the letters you’ve written to him, for him, about him, about your life, about nothing at all, impromptu stories and poems; they sit together, tied neatly with a ribbon of your favorite color.

They still smell of you, much to Rain’s content, when he brings the stack to his face. Something to hold on to for a little longer, to keep the memory living outside his mind, to make it last for some time more.

All he can do is to hope that their infernal lord, the morningstar, offers you that peace of mind, the happiness, the ease you deserved your whole life.

That is, if you are there.

If that’s the case, maybe he can visit you some day.

Hope is all Rain has left nowadays, besides his collection gathering dust just as his heart.

[marshallpupfan]

New Additions to my Marshall Collection!

It's been a while, but I finally get to post about some items I recently added to my Marshall collection! To think, my last update was all the way back in March. Fortunately, I was able to get a few things during that time - some new, and some I finally managed to track down!

(For any new followers, if you've never seen my collection, click this link. And yes, I might have gone... a little overboard. Once again, it goes without being said that I'm absolutely crazy about Marshall. lol)

First off, this LED Mood Light! This one's a brand new item, and I believe it's currently being sold at Target (in the USA, anyway). Admittedly, I was going to try and search for one... but I didn't have to because a friend sent me one for my Birthday! If you're reading this, thanks again for the great gift! :)

I'm not 100% sure, but I think they only made one of Marshall this time. Considering they only sold LED lights of Chase and Skye during the first theatrical film's run, I like to think this is Spin Master's belated apology to Marshall fans. Whatever the case, I'll take it! lol

And here's a brief video of it in action, if anyone's curious.

That same friend also sent me this, too. I believe it's called a "Charm", and it's meant for those Croc shoes. I've never owned a pair of those, but of course, it'll still look just as good on my shelf somewhere!

Next up, this "neon" True Metal vehicle! This is something I've been trying to find since last year... well, I actually could've purchased one at any time, but it was only available in a $30 set. I just wanted the one, so I figured I'd wait until I could just get Marshall's vehicle separate or the whole thing for cheaper. Luckily, I found the set a day before my Birthday at a flea market for $10! What a lucky find!

And this... is just a simple box of tissues. Actually, my folks seen this and figured I might like it. That's actually one of my favorite pics of Marshall, so I'll gladly find a spot for it somewhere!

And if you're curious, the other sides feature Chase, Skye & Rubble.

And last, this Good 2 Grow "Snackers" container! This is something I've known about for a while, but it took me some time to find one. Admittedly, that was my fault; for some reason, I thought they had yogurt in them, so I kept looking for them in the refrigerated section. Naturally, I never found any, so I just assumed none of my local stores ever got any in. It wasn't until recently that I went down an aisle looking for something for a folks, when all of a sudden, there they were! And this was the last one of Marshall, too! Talk about yet another lucky find! If only I had that same luck when I tried searching for Marshall's movie vehicle in those Drink & Play bottles. lol

Well, that's all for now! No doubt the Mighty Movie merchandise is right around the corner, and as per the usual, I'm certainly curious to see what they've got planned for that one. And to think, after that we'll be getting merch based on Jungle Pups (the TV show's next sub-series), and no doubt various other items in-between time, too.

A Marshall merchandise collector's job is never done. 😅

[rachelbethhines]

Tangled Bonus Marathon - Rapunzel’s Journal Replica

Introduction

When Disney first released the pilot on DVD, they included this miniature journal replica with it as a promotional item.

To date, this is the only actual reconstruction of Rapunzel’s Journal. There are toys and the My First Year as Princess book, but none of them are a straight up reproduction like this. 

And the only way to get it, is to buy the Before Ever After DVD. I recommend buying from the Disney store directly if you want to make sure you get the journal. If you buy it secondhand or from a third party seller like Amazon, it might be missing.   

Content

The book is exactly what it says on the tin. The fist ten pages of the replica are recreations of what Rapunzel would supposedly write and draw in her journal. Then you have several blank pages after that, because it’s only the pilot and Rapunzel presumably hasn’t gotten around to filling the rest out yet.

Every other page talks about Rapunzel’s desire to see the world and how she currently feels trapped in Corona, and in-between that she has pages dedicated to the townspeople, her parents, Eugene, Max, and Cassandra.

You can tell a lot of this was early production work and notes. Nothing about the rocks or her hair is mentioned, just vague notions about how she feels her destiny is calling to her from outside the kingdom walls. She also mentions Eugene proposing to her and her not feeling ready yet.

What really informs the reader about how early in production these pages come from though, is that none of the townspeople who are named appear in the show. There’s a locksmith called Canlier, a grocer and his family named the Rollet’s, Madame Bouvier, who washes the laundry, and some kid who’s last name is Fouquet. He lost a tooth.

Also everyone is called Monsieur or Madame, which hints to that “Corona is really France” bullshit that the series kept teasing but never fully committed to, and doesn’t make a whole lot of sense given that Rapunzel is a German fairy tale.

Presentation

The recreation is about a third of the size of the what the novel in the series is meant to be. It’s easily able to be held by one hand or by a child’s hands. The size is most likely reduced so as to fit in the DVD box.

The cover is a hard, but thin plastic printed to look like leather. The cord to close it is either fake leather or suede though. The tassel is a lock of fake hair and a little hard plastic bottle. 

On the inside the replicated pages are printed on glossy paper while the blank pages have a printed texture to make them look like parchment, along with the series logo printed in the bottom corners. I think Disney designed the book with the idea that little kids would write or draw in the blank pages themselves, but the glossy print seems a be counterproductive to that end. Oh well, I guess that’s why the actual toy journals exist. 

Like I said, the art work is clearly lifted straight from the per-production art and is nice to see. There’s even an early Cassandra design where she’s in her knight uniform.

If there’s one complaint, is that, while authentic looking, the messy handwriting is often too hard to read. Especially when there’s any large amount of text to decipher. Which is certainly not helped by the reduced size.

Like I just completely gave up even trying to read this page....

Even I have handwriting better than that, and I write like a doctor!

Would I Recommend It

Only if you’re a hardcore collector. With the complete series blue-ray DVD now for sell, there’s no reason to pay full price for the solo pilot. And only by buying it new from the seller are you guaranteed to get the journal. That’s $16 dollars for the product and another $10 dollars for the shipping, plus tax. Not gonna lie, it’s a neat piece of memorabilia, but I don’t think it’s worth $28 bucks though.

Next Up

It’s our first appearance of Varian in the marathon with the double episode novelization of What the Hair and Great Expotations.

[the-enzyme]

Just three tiny toys I got recently. 

From left to right:  SEGA Demon Slayer Kimetsu no Yaiba "The Hashira Gathered!" Ohiruneko Mini Figure Vol. 1  Giyu Tomioka Mini FIgure; Megahouse NARUTO Shippuden Nyaruto Akatsuki Battle Sasuke Uchiha  Mini Figure; Very Cool Miss Spetsnaz Female Head Sculpt (VCF-2058A). 

I got what I believe was a set of all three Vol. 1 Ohiruneko Demon Slayer mini figures from B&N, back around July of this year. But no! They don’t specify on their website that you only get one random figure. I should have known, based on the fact that the boxes look exactly like the Kuji ones won randomly. I originally got mine on pre-order on GS, but they kept delaying the release date, then they cancelled the other for having oversold the items like usual. They list the ones on their website as a set of all three, in a window display play box. That’s why when I got mine from B&N, I assumed (like an idiot) that these were also a set of all three. I was able to secure my Giyu however, in pristine condition from an official GSC dealer, so he arrived literally in collector’s condition, blemish free and super quickly, despite current USA weather conditions. I was also able to get one of the five kitty Megahouse Sasuke figures that I was missing. Now I just need four more. I’m super happy with both, although these are kind of expensive for their size! When will it ever end? T___T

Finally, I got another Very Cool head sculpt I was eyeing for a while now. I originally was looking to get the OG release of this head, with the brown eyes and tanner skin. However, the head was kind of super popular and the legit was going for too much second market when I remembered looking for it parted out. This year or late last year, however, Very Cool re-release her in two different sets, with “paler” complexion and blue eyes! I was finally able to get her for a “semi-decent’ price, that I was willing to pay. Now I am kicking myself, because I didn’t get her body, and I kind of want to leave her on a female body after seeing her in person. I was thinking of putting her on a male body, but due to her braided hair, and overall realistic facial features, I don’t know how I feel about that anymore. 

I love the sculpt, it is gorgeous (that’s why I wanted it for so long!), however, I don't’ feel it would work so well on a Xinyiwawa male body, mostly due to the hair style and I don’t want to attempt removing the rooted plastic cap. They are normally glued on and not meant to be removed. I know some people do so but finding hair that would work would probably be an ordeal and matching the super pale Xinyiwawa body to the sculpt’s tone would be another ordeal. So, I’ll probably just keep her on a female body. Although, I don’t want to get her a body with a huge bust, her default kind of has a huge one. However, finding bodies that actually match and have smaller bust is probably another painful experience I don’t know I want to put myself through. She’s not as pale as she appears in most of my crappy photos -- my camera refused to take decent, clear photos of her at all!  *hugesigh* DX

[sebthesnipe]

A Very Patton Christmas

Other works by me (AO3)

Tumblr Master Post

To @gilby-the-geek-girl for being the best friend a person could ask for. For without whom my writing would be riddled with errors and inconsistency, and whose gift of friendship has been the greatest thing to happen to me in a very long time. While I know you’ve read this (cuz you beta for me like the boss bitch you are) I still hope that you know that it was written with love for you. (I really don’t have time to write for anyone else XP) One day I hope you’ll have a friend at least half as good as you are (because we both no I ain’t it XP) I hope your Hanukkah wasn’t a miserable one and that you Christmas is the highlight of your 2020 (because we both know there isn’t much competition).  Prompt: Explain why Patton’s Sweater this year is so damn ugly.

Patton shifted under the mountainous pile of blankets atop him. It was early, or rather… late? He hadn’t really slept. How could he?! His favorite day of the year was here! Well, it would be.

He shifted again, this time wiggling towards where he thought one of the blankets ended and poked his head out to look at his frog shaped Wisoee alarm clock. Its dim light smiled at him reading 3:37 AM.

He held back a squeal as he ducked back into this warm cave of comforters. He couldn’t watch the clock.

A watched pot never boils,he reminded himself.

He went over the day’s schedule in his head:

Logan would already be awake and emerge at precisely 4:00 AM, as he always did. Today though, was the only day out of the year the Logan broke his (otherwise) usual routine.

Logan would skip his usual jog, replacing his gray sweats for the pajamas Patton had bought him for his birthday (a blue plaid pair of pants and a grey tee  with the text ‘Wash your hands. Wear a mask. Vote.’ printed on the front) At which point, he would make his way to the kitchen where he would start a pot of coffee for himself, Virgil, and Janus.

That would be where Patton, came in!

Patton would already be in the kitchen to start his homemade hot chocolate for himself, Roman, and Remus (With Logan’s help of course. He didn’t want another incident like the baking fiasco from a few months ago).

By the time they finished, Roman would be up, no doubt singing everyone into wakefulness. Then it would be time for hot cocoa and presents!

Patton got them all Christmas sweaters just like he did every year! He loved picking them out for each of his friends and watching them all spread out in the living room, all snug and cozy to watch their usual Christmas movie marathon!

They always let Patton pick the first movie, but there were so many good ones he usually couldn’t choose! Logan would probably chime in with the Nutcracker, not because he was a fan but because it was the only Christmas movie Roman and Remus agreed on, making  it the popular choice.

Then it would be Logan’s actual turn. He usually chose The Polar Express. Patton was pretty sure he only chose it because there were really only two Christmas movies based on books and Janus always chose A Christmas Carol. That and because Patton really liked it!

Then came Janus and finally Virgil, who was Jewish and didn’t have personal stock in Christmas, but participated for the others (which was another reason he was Patton’s favorite ,not that he’d ever admit it). Virgil always wanted to watch Die Hard, but knew Patton didn’t care for the violence much, so he usually settled for Rudolf, which warmed the fatherly figure’s heart to no end (Which was probably why Patton had bought him the collector’s edition box set of the movie). During the previous year’s viewing of the movie Virgil and Logan ended up in a discussion regarding how the song Rudolf the Rednosed Reindeer was (according to Virgil) one of the only times a big corporation did what was right. Patton usually tried to follow this kind of discussion, but he usually got lost when Logan started in about percentages and underpaid artists. It just really hurt his little heart to know so many talented people out there were struggling.

The movies, as a matter of fact, were why Patton chose the sweaters he did for them this year! Each of his friends would be gifted a sweater to mirror each of their favorite Christmas movies! (Die Hard being the exception of course!)

After all that, the group would settle in for-

The alarm clock croaked loudly, signaling the arrival of 3:45 AM.

Patton’s previous thoughts evaporated into excitement as he attempted scramble from the mass of comforters, reaching to shut off the alarm.

His leg tangled in one of the large downeys and he hit the ground with a heavy thud. He paid no mind to his bruised ribs as he wrestled himself from its grasp, smacking the flashing frog to silence it.

A moment later he threw open his door, intent for the stairs.

He never made it though. At least, not at first…

Something was off.

He paused in the hallway, skin prickling at the coolness of the air.

He had only made it a few feet when he noticed it.

Roman’s door was ajar, the dark shadows of his messy room an indication of his absence…

Remus’ too. Though it was only slightly. Patton noticed the smell more than the sight.

Was everyone up before him?

He moved towards Virgil’s room, giving a soft knock before shouldering open the door.

“Hey, Kiddo. You up?” He whispered softly before noticing the unmade empty bed.

“And what would you know?!” the ‘kiddo’-in-question’s voice came in a harsh snap, drifting up from the living room.

“Keep your voice down!” Janus’ own snapped back, matching Virgil’s volume though the tone was a mock attempt at a whisper in his tone.

Patton inched closer, concern playing on his features as he flattened himself against the wall at the top of the stairs. He certainly didn’t want to intrude on his friends’ conversation, but there was obviously something was wrong.

“Bite me, snake boy!” Virgil snapped in return, though his voice was lowered.

“Don’t tempt me,” Janus hissed.

“Wait! Let me get the camera! Pics or it didn’t happen!” Remus’ voice came in a giddy giggle. “Okay, make sure you draw blood.”

“Gross,” Virgil huffed, heat gone.

“As much as I hate to admit it, Stormcloud, I think Ser Lies-a-lot is right,” Roman sighed softly. 

“You can’t be serious!” Virgil grumbled. 

“I believe he is,” Logan’s calm voice interrupted. “Statistically speaking, twenty three percent of christmas gifts in America in a given year are unwanted but kept.”

“That’s reassuring,” Virgil growled. 

“I wasn’t finished,” Logan retorted. “Given that statistic, along with the fact that individuals are more likely to gift items they like themselves, and factoring in the number of gifts we’ve received over the years. That paired with the fact that it was commissioned from an independent artist, supporting their work directly: I would say that there is a ninety-two point six five present chance that Patton will find the gift quite adequate.”

“Did you really just do all that in your head?” Janus asked curiously. 

“Actually, no,” Logan admitted. “I calculated the odds when the idea was brought up months ago, as I do with each of your christmas gifts.”

“Is that why I got socks last year?” Remus chirped. 

“Yes, well… I found that the other options would cause unease with the others,” Logan clarified.

“Boring!” 

“Don’t worry Remus, he didn’t get you a dissection kit this year to make up for it,” Janus commented sarcastically.

“What?!” Roman spat as Remus gasped excitedly. 

“I’m not even sure how you know that,” Logan sighed, probably straightening his glasses like he usually did when something annoyed him. “And I’m not sure I care to know.”

“We’re getting side tracked. He’ll be up any minute,” Virgil interrupted once more. “The fact is, it’s one of the ugliest things I’ve ever seen and it’s too late not to give it to him.”

“I like it!” Remus argued.

“See!” Virgil huffed, using Remus’ opinion as evidence to the validity of his statement. 

“Ugh, maybe he has a point Teach,” Roman agreed. “I could put together a card for us to sign instead?”

“No, it’s too late for that, beside I am certain this is all an overstated concern.” Logan countered.

“Perhaps, a vote wouldn’t be appropriate?” Janus offered. 

“I agree, all in favor of giving Patton the gift we already agreed upon?” Logan asked. 

There was silence as Patton assumed a few of the boys raised their hands. 

“All opposed?” He continued.

“Remus you can’t vote twice!” Roman snapped. 

“You’re no fun!” Remus whined. “I’ll stick with J-anus then!”

“Please, continue to call me that. I just love it,” Janus deadpanned. 

“The ayes have it then,” Logan decided. 

“What eyes?” Remus chirped excitedly, but no one paid him any mind. 

“Roman, if you would be so kind as to finish wrapping the gift, I have a pot of coffee to finish,” Logan dismissed.

“I have some extra ribbon in my room. Want to help, Stormcloud?” Roman asked, making Patton tense as they headed his way. 

He didn’t wait for V to answer as Patton hurried back to his room and closed the door softly behind him. 

He really shouldn’t have eavesdropped. 

Guilt filled him as he leaned against the frame, processing everything that had been said. 

The group had never agreed on a gift for Patton. Usually Logan and Roman were the only two to get him anything and they just included the others’ names on the presents (not that Patton ever called them out on it. Why would he?). Patton didn’t mind of course, he knew they had trouble buying for him.

Logan usually got him a new hoodie or something practical like a flamingo pen, or oven mitts (though those usually only lasted about a week before Patton caught them on fire or melted them!). Roman always made him something, like the card he had mentioned, and just had the others sign it. Patton didn’t mind of course, he loved everything they gave him. It was the thought that warmed him! Even the fact that Remus refrained from his usual off the wall habits to try and make Patton more comfortable meant the world to him.

The fact that the group was so torn over his opinion broke his heart. How could they think that? What had he done to put that doubt in their mind? He had to do better! Whatever it was, he would show he loved it more than anything they had ever gotten him before.

His brows furrowed in determination. 

This would be their year!

He took a moment to gather himself before plastering on a smile and throwing open the door once more, running straight into a surprised Logan. 

Logan gave a small grunt as Patton bumped him, the mug of hot cocoa sloshing over and onto his hand. 

“Oh goodness!” Patton gasped in shock, “I’m so sorry Lo’! Are you alright?” The smaller man hurriedly took the mug from his friend’s hand and set it on the small table next to the door, frantically searching for something to clean up the mess. 

“I’m fine, Patton,” Logan reassured, producing a blue handkerchief from his pant pocket and wiping the warm liquid off his hand. Leave it to Logan to have his handkerchief with him despite wearing pajamas. “I made sure the liquid was at an acceptable temperature for this exact reason.”

“Oh! I hope I didn’t ruin your new PJs!” Patton cried, already pushing Logan’s arms up to examine the flannel. 

There wasn’t a stain to be found. Logan arched a brow as he waited for Patton to satisfy his need for the inspection before sighing. 

“Truly, Patton, I’m fine. Are you?” Logan asked, his neutral expression turning to one of concern. 

“What?” Patton hummed, glancing up to meet the taller man’s eyes. “Of course! I wasn’t the one holding the cup!” 

“I wasn’t referring to the cocoa,” Logan pointed out, lowering his arms. “It’s 4:17. It isn’t like you to be so unpunctual on Christmas day.” 

“Oh…” Patton whispered, lowering his gaze in shame. Should he tell him? It wasn’t right to keep secrets. Would he be upset if he found out Patton had been eavesdropping? No… Today was their day… He wouldn’t do anything to upset them. “No. I’m fine!” Patton reassured, suddenly as chipper as ever as he offered out a smile. 

Logan eyed him suspiciously, but seemed to wearily accept the answer. 

“Well, I thought your traditional cup of cocoa would help if anything were amiss,” Logan nodded towards the cup, bringing Patton’s attention to it once more. 

Logan had made it without him? 

Patton could feel the mask around his heart start to crack a little as his stomach sank. He supposed it made sense that Logan wouldn’t really need him to make it… Still, that was Patton and Logan’s Christmas tradition… It hurt that he had been left out of it. 

“Aw! Thank you Logan!” Patton forced out in his preening voice as if nothing was wrong. 

This was their day, not his. 

“That’s so sweet!” He added, collecting the mug and taking a small sip. Somehow it didn’t taste as good as it usually did. 

“You’re very welcome, Patton,” Logan replied with a small tilt of his lips. 

His crooked smile also seemed to soften his features; Patton loved that about him. It made his sudden disappointment worth it. 

“I know we usually have a schedule for the holiday, but…” Logan paused as if he were nervous. What an odd look for the scholar. “Well, the others requested a change in plans.”

Patton’s heart sank. What kind of change? Did they not like the way they usually celebrated Christmas? Why hadn’t they told him? Was his idea of Christmas really so one sided? How had he not noticed this before? Was that why Logan was so nervous?

No… It didn’t matter. This was their day, not his.

“What kind of change, kiddo? I’m sure whatever it is will be great! It’s Christmas after all!” Patton responded, despite the way his stomach knotted. 

“Well,” Logan began, stepping aside. “Perhaps it would be best if they explained it.”

Patton hesitated before nodding taking the lead as they walked down the hall. What if they didn’t want to do hot cocoa and movies any more? What if they didn’t want to celebrate Christmas at all?! Was that why they came together for a gift? To appease Patton? They were all getting older and it wasn’t as if they had children. Maybe they felt like Christmas wasn’t for adults…

That was ridiculous, Patton knew that. But still…

He headed down the stairs, a smile still glued to his lips as he caught sight of Remus and Janus whispering over a small box. 

“I told you, it's for you!” Janus hissed at the mustached man next to him, fending him off the plain white box in his hands. 

“I helped pick them out! I should be allowed first dib-” Remus cut himself off as Janus elbowed him in the ribs pulling his attention up to Patton, just as he took the last step on the landing. 

“I didn’t lick them, I swear!” Remus called out, smiling broadly in his stained Oscar the Grouch onesie. “Okay maybe a few.”

Janus rolled his eyes, dressed in his usual suit and hat, not bothering with a comment. 

“Good Morning, Patton, slept horribly I hope?” Janus asked pleasantly. 

“Hey, kiddos. You’re up early,” Patton offered, feeling more uneasy than ever; something that must have shown because at that moment Logan leaned down to whisper in the smaller man’s ear. 

“Are you sure you are alright Patton?” he asked softly. “If you’re not feeling well then perhaps you should rest. I’m sure we can put this off unti-”

“Hola, Padre!” Roman’s voice came,  cutting off Logan’s words. 

Patton glanced up at the two figures standing at the top of the stairs. Roman, straight backed, hands behind him as he stood tall in his prince pajamas; Virgil behind him, using him to practically hide his small form, dressed in his Jack Skeleton onesie. 

“Roman, Virgil! You’re up already! This is a surprise!” Patton feigned excitement.

“Definitely a Christmas miracle,” Janus sighed. 

No one paid the comment any mind as Roman hurried down the stairs. Grin wide.

“Well this is a special day, Padre!” Roman explained as Virgil followed after, rolling his eyes. 

“Bah-Humbug,” the black and white clad man grumbled in response. Though it may have been Patton’s imagination, but Virgil's eyeshadow looked a few shades lighter than usual. 

“Feliz Navidad Patton! Merry Christmas!”Roman sang, producing the present from behind his back and offering it out. 

Patton’s heart skipped a beat, hesitating as he glanced around the room at each of his friends. They all looked so nervous… Even Janus. 

His attention went back to the gift being presented. It was a decent sized package with rainbow wrapping paper, black and white striped ribbon, and a green and blue bow that sat just above a small yellow tag that read ‘To: Janus From: Patton’.

Despite Patton’s dread and apprehension, he couldn’t help but smile at the packaging. They had even come together on the wrapping. It was very sweet. 

He glanced up at Roman who nodded eagerly, indicating that Patton was welcome to it. 

“You guys! You didn’t have to do all this!” He whispered in awe, voice cracking as tears began filling his eyes.

No matter what happened, Patton was awed by the fact that the boys went to so much trouble for him. They had come together for him. It didn’t matter if they were too old for Christmas!

He tugged at the ribbon, finding it firmly in place, before turning it over and trying again. After flipping it once more he heard Logan give a small chuckle. 

“May I?” his soft calm voice came. Patton nodded, handing over the package to Logan and wiping away a tear he felt rolling down his cheek. 

Logan’s nimble fingers loosened the bow and the surrounding ribbon, careful not to ruin them (he knew Patton loved to keep them and hang them above his mirror to admire later). Logan set the ribbon aside before handing the package back to the smaller man.

“Thank you,” Patton murmured weakly, gently tearing the wrapping to slide the sleek white box from inside. 

“This is worse than waiting for a magnet you swallowed to come out the other end!” Remus chimed in excitedly. 

“Ugh! Does he really have to be here?!” Roman whined, causing Patton’s grin to turn genuine.

The momentary distraction had him feeling a bit better as he slid a nail under the lid of the box, breaking the tape there and pulling open the lid. 

Wrapped loosely in a thin tissue paper lay a DVD copy of The Shop Around the Corner, a mug that, when you sip it, makes the drinker look like the bottom half of their face belongs to a puppy, and some kind of knitted fabric.

“Ah! You guys!!!” Patton squealed, tears beginning to fall as he collected the mug and movie, setting them aside and pulling out the sweater to get a better look at it. 

The light blue knitted midsection was covered in what, he assumed, was supposed to be some kind of icing pattern? Or perhaps whipped cream? Lace? He wasn’t sure. There was also a brown bow tie that was maybe supposed to be chocolate? Down the center was a line of pink chocolate chip cookie buttons. The bright pink sleeves had much of the same design though instead of pink cookies they were light blue.

It may have been the ugliest excuse of a sweater Patton had ever seen.

Silence fell in the rooms everyone waited for Patton’s reaction. 

“We know it’s not as good as the ones you get us,” Virgil chimed in nervously. “But we thought that maybe you’d like one of your own?” 

“The mug, of course, is so you won’t have to make so many trips for more cocoa,” Logan added with a soft smile. “I thought the others would like to help us make the rest after you change, of course. If you’d like.”

“The rest?” Patton asked, breath hitching as the tears threatened to fall. “You mean… You didn’t make it without me?” He sniffled.

“What?” Logan blinked in surprise. “Of course not, Patton. Making hot chocolate for everyone is a tradition I enjoy spending with you. I would never-”

“Well, it's just… you brought the mug up… So, I thought…” Patton let his voice fade as he watched understanding flash over Logan’s features.

“I was worried there might be something wrong. I thought waking you with your own mug would be a nice surprise.” Logan explained. “I apologize if I gave the wrong impression, Patton. I only made the one mug. I know you find a great deal of happiness in our customary time in the kitchen. I would not want to take that from you.”

“But…” Patton murmured, eyes shifting to the others. “Everyone’s already awake… And you were all together… I don’t want to impose on-”

“¡Espera! ¡Espéra! ¡Espéra!” Roman interrupted, looking both surprised and concerned. “I did not wake up far before my beauty rest was done to hear this slander especially from Mr. Spirit of Christmas, himself! Patton, with you there is no Christmas.”

“Roman is right, Patton,” Virgil shrugged, shrinking a bit lower into his hood. “I certainly wouldn’t be celebrating and we definitely wouldn’t have come together to get you the gifts. 

“I know Shop Around the Corner isn’t usually on our Christmas Merry Marathon list, but you never really get to pick a movie and I know it’s your favorite,” Roman pitched in. “At least, that's what Janus claims.”

“I totally didn’t check your browsing history,” Janus shrugged.

“And I edited the email to the artist!” Remus added proudly.

“That… explains a lot,” Logan whispered under his breath softly.

“We also didn’t bring you cookies from that bakery you hate.” Janus stated, setting the box he had been holding down on the small table next to him. 

Patton was silent throughout the exchange, burying his face into the soft fabric as he began to shake silently with his sobs. 

“I told you he wouldn’t like it!” Virgil cried desperately.

“No!” Patton responded, voice breaking. “I love it! I love all of it!” He dropped his hands just enough to rush forward, wrapping both Virgil and Roman into a great big hug. “Thank you so much! It’s perfect!” 

Roman gave a boisterous laugh, returning the hug as Virgil couldn’t help but smile; both grunting as Remus piled atop them. 

Logan approached, resting a hand on Patton’s shoulders in reassurance. 

“Well, this is certainly a disgusting sight,” Janus sighed, though he was grinning as well. 

“I love you guys so much!” Patton laughed, the weight on his heart lifting to the point of forgetfulness. How could he have ever thought these men didn’t need him or wouldn’t want to spend Christmas with him. They were his family!

“Is it just me or is this oddly arousing?” Remus purred.

“Ugh!” Roman and Virgil both scoffed at once, shoving the rank smelling man away from them. 

“Why do you have to ruin everything?!” Roman growled, dragging his brother away.

Patton didn’t mind the outburst, however, far too busy hurrying up the stairs to change so they could get their Best Christmas EVER underway…

The End...

[casual-eumetazoa]

thanks for the prompt @confused-android​ ! oof, took me longer to write this than i thought (or actually it took me like an hour but i postponed it till my exams were almost over). first - the word “enthralled”? i vibe with it. second - this kinda turned into a vaguely brotzly piece with some autism acceptance on the side, hope that’s okay. third… hope you like this! so here goes

———————

The Case of the Stolen Flower Basket (as dubbed, unofficially, by Dirk) started out on a more relaxed note than most of their cases: in a flowershop, with a stolen basket. A basket, mind you, that was stolen in broad daylight from a closed room, under mysterious circumstances.

It also started with Dirk ending up in a flowershop, accidentally, while he was trying to find an ice-cream place. And it wasn’t even a case then, as much as Dirk’s brief but intense obsession with closed room mysteries, but I digress.

Point is, a basket was missing, a basket thief was at large, and the holistic crew of the holistic detective agency found themselves in a huge abandoned storing space, following up on a “lead”. Todd, Dirk and Farah walked the damp bleak corridors, opening any block that seemed suspicious. Most of them did, and most contained a truly bizarre collection of items.

One was filled up entirely with broken IKEA furniture. One was stuffed to the brim with an assortment of left shoes. And, perhaps most unsettling, one consisted of nothing but headless dolls of various shapes and sizes, along with some disfigured plush animals.

-What the hell was this place? – Todd wondered, prying open yet another door.

Behind it was an empty space, containing exactly one chair with exactly one empty jar perched on the edge of its seat.

-The warehouse of a profoundly odd collector. – Dirk proclaimed. – He… had an excess of money, and wanted to collect things, but the normal things people collect like stamps or candy wrappers were too boring for him, so he did this instead.

-Found anything important? – Farah’s voice echoed against the crumbling walls.

-Yes! – Dirk yelled back.

-No. – Todd corrected, then turned back to Dirk. – An eccentric collector then huh? – Evidently, he had decided to entertain Dirk’s guess. – What about this one then?

He pointed at the nearest door and immediately proceeded to kick it down. It was meant to be a slight push, but instead the door caved in completely, slipping off its hinges and crashing against the floor with a deafening metal rumble.

-Sorry! – Todd bit his lip.

He saw Dirk wince and then almost shrivel up at the sound, arms pulled suddenly towards his chest, as if trying to protect himself from the noise.

Noises. Dirk did not do well with them. And Todd knew that all too well.

-Sorry. – He repeated. – I didn’t mean to do… that.

-It’s fine. – Dirk mumbled, trying his best to shake off the feeling and get back into investigative mood. – What’s in it then?

They stepped over the dilapidated door and into the tight storage space. Inside it were a few pieces of old furniture, half a dozen sealed boxes, at least a whole heap of sawdust, and…

-Todd! – Dirk really did try to tone down the enthusiasm, but alas. – Look!

First, Todd noticed Dirk’s flapping arms, and the smile on his face, and felt his own lips stretch into a grin. Only then he turned to check what was in there, and realized that the wall of the storage space was lined up with various musical instruments. Guitars, mostly; electric, acoustic, even toy ones…

-It’s your thing! – Dirk beamed.

-Yeah. – Todd agreed. – It’s my thing.

He approached the wall and picked up one of the guitars.

-It’s expensive. – He declared, and checked the instrument for any signs of wear and tear. – And new. Damn. – He went slowly through the collection. – Well, these aren’t the very top of the chain, but they’re fancier than I used to have.

He took one of the electric guitars – a slick, bright red beauty – and held it gently in his hands. He hadn’t played guitar since he bashed his last one against the wall of the Ridgley building… that happened less than a year prior, and yet it seemed a lifetime away.

-Can we take some? – Dirk asked, then, not waiting for a reply, picked out one of the guitars at random. – They’re no-ones so it doesn’t count as stealing.

-I guess I could take one or two. – Todd agreed. – They’re as good as thrown out at this point. No use for them collecting dust in here.

-Where the hell are you two? – Farah’s voice chimed through the corridor.

-Over here! – Dirk shouted back.

-Ugh. – Todd muttered. – I have to pick now. Wait. Actually… - He looked at the guitar he had in his hands, then the one Dirk was still holding, and smiled with the corner of his mouth. – Those two are good. Let’s go.

-Guys. – Farah nearly avoided a collision with the broken door as she entered the storage space. – You should see this. Now. – She paused. – I think I found a skeleton.

The guitars were then stashed in the corner, and waited patiently for their new owner to crawl on all fours into a basement, poke some human bones with a stick, and emerge – dusty, exhausted, and deeply confused.

*

The evening was slow and peaceful. While Farah was busy making phone calls and trying to arrange for someone to examine, discretely and unofficially, a mysterious unidentified skeleton, Todd and Dirk stayed in Todd’s apartment. Or, rather, at the apartment that used to be Todd’s. He didn’t remember the last time he had a dinner there, and besides, Dirk spent more nights than not in the guest bedroom, so it was really their apartment.

-Do you have any ideas about how the basket connects to the skeleton yet? – Todd asked, placing two cups of tea on the table.

He didn’t have to ask Dirk what he wanted; he knew his (rather narrow) range of food and drink preferences by heart.

-Not a clue. – Dirk admitted, and raised his gaze to the ceiling, staring attentively at some smudge. – I think we should go to Claire’s house.

-Why the owner’s house? – Todd asked.

-Feels relevant. – Dirk shrugged, eyes still focused on the smudge. – Oh. – He turned in his seat suddenly. – The guitars! Can you play for me?

Todd sighed. He anticipated this happening.

-Well, - he said, - I can’t play the electric one cause you need equipment for it and we didn’t steal any, and I haven’t played an acoustic guitar in like two years, but…

-I don’t care if it’s not your best or some equally stupid excuse. – Dirk interrupted him. – You know I’ll be impressed no matter what.

Todd laughed shortly, and nodded. It was true – Dirk was impressed and excited by seemingly everything, from the fluffy blanket assortment at Walmart (he had to touch every. single. one.) to the Sacred Wisdom shared with him by Todd that the number on the package of pasta tells you how long it will take to cook it. Dirk was also somehow oblivious to his own talents, insisting that connecting eleven entirely unrelated pieces of information into a complete narrative was “simple” and “obvious”.

-Fine. – Todd caved in, and got up to fetch the acoustic guitar. – But I probably won’t know the cords of the songs you like.

Considering that Dirk mostly listened to obscure European rock music, 80s pop, and Disney soundtracks, it was hardly surprising.

-Not tuned at all, probably. – Todd, the guitar now in hands, returned to his seat and gave the strings a test stroke. – Yep. – He nodded. – Gimme a few minutes.

He tuned the guitar as best as he could, and tapped his fingers on the table, trying to decide what to play. Dirk had watched him with curiosity and was now sipping his tea, waiting for the music to start. Todd paused, took a deep breath in, and began to play the first song that he was sure he remembered – “Behind Blue Eyes”.

The music flowed; Todd focused on the movement of his fingers, on the vibration of the string, and the metal at his fingertips. He sang the words softly, almost as an afterthought. He had forgotten how good it felt to make music happen. The song was in the air, brought to life by the motion of his hands, and the night was young, and he was lost in the moment. He skipped the electric guitar solo and went straight to the final reprise of the chorus.

Then the music stopped, and silence fell on his shoulders. He kept quiet, not saying anything, waiting for Dirk to react. That is when Todd realized that Dirk wasn’t talking – and Dirk was always talking. He talked over movies, and news on the TV, and shop assistants and, on one memorable occasion, over a talking parrot. It’s not that he was rude - it’s just that his head was so full of words, constantly, that they had to be let out.

But Dirk wasn’t talking now. Now he simply sat in his place, eyes transfixed on Todd’s hands, blinking.

-Are you okay? – Todd asked.

There was a pause.

-Mmm? – Dirk blinked faster and looked up, meeting Todd’s gaze, startled slightly, as if waking up from a pleasant dream. – Yes. Yes of course I’m okay.

-You kinda zoned out a little bit.

-I did?

-Yeah.

-You play really good music. – Dirk smiled softly.

-Thanks. – Todd smiled back.

-It’s nice to not be… attacked by sound for a change. – Dirk added.  – Can you… keep, playing, please?

-Sure. – Todd replied. -I mean, I don’t remember that many songs, and…

He remembered enough songs for a whole mini-at-home concert.

*

It doesn’t end there.

Together, they spend many an evening consumed by music, music brought to life by Todd, for Dirk, specifically for Dirk, and for him only. Todd plays everything – every song he has ever loved, acoustic versions of Mexican Funeral pieces, approximate renditions of whatever is on the radio these days…

Dirk makes requests. Todd googles guitar tabs and practices while Dirk is still asleep, in the ungodly early hours of the morning, sitting on the windowsill of the apartment block while people leave for first shifts at work. He has performed in front of huge crowds, and music journalists, and many girls (and guys…) he was trying to impress – but nothing has ever felt as personal, crucial, tender, as playing for Dirk.

The skeleton is identified, and the stolen basket is discovered. The convoluted twists and turns of the story, which involves a near-extinct flower, a 77-year-old Russian spy and an actual African prince, come to their natural close. The excitement and danger are over, if only for a brief respite, and peace is restored. A new case will arrive soon enough… but until then, they have their tiny apartment, and Todd has his guitars, and music lingers in the air, and Dirk is enthralled with the music, still and speechless in his seat.

They look at each other, and they understand each other precisely, and, for once in his life, Dirk has no words, and needs no words, and wants nothing else but to listen. God knows, his life is never safe or simple, but now Todd is here, and the world is really not that bad, and he is happy.

The Earth continues to spin. New bizarre, perplexing and astonishing things will happen. Songs will be played, and words will be said in time. Maybe, in part at least, because someone ran, and never looked back, and left behind all their belongings, even their very expensive guitars…

Sometimes – most of the times – the Universe wants them to help it. But, on this occasion, it is gracious enough to help them in return.

[currentfandomkick]

Miraculous Team and Batboys-Akuma Attack

okay, giving the update spamming a break.

--

Marinette flew through the city, sensing where the corrupted butterfly’s power landed. She swung into a home with a broken window—likely where the akuma fled.

She froze when she saw scraps of bread, cheese, snacks and other food items scattered in the area. It didn’t make any sense—where was the akuma?

Queen Bee made it next, landing beside her. “What do you think happened?”

Marinette frowned, looking around. This was ground zero, someone’s house, and no one was left…

“I’m not sure…” Marinette opened her yo-yo’s comm while Queen Bee left to check the area. “Chat, are you there?”

“Of course m’lady. Any akuma sightings on your end?”

“No, and no one to ask what happened… do you think this is another Collector or Pixelator?”

“Maybe? Any clues?”

“Just a lot of scraps and a broken window.”

“Ladybug! We have a witness!” Queen Bee yelled as she landed. “They said some kid was turning people into food with some wand.”

Marinette froze as she processed that. It wasn’t the first time hunger transformed an akuma—they had one that ate everything in sight called Kirby before. He was… an interesting akuma, and wasn’t in a good place. He was in a better home now, and they needed the Bee and Horse to finish him. Queen Bee and Pegasus was needed big time then, and she was glad they had one permanently now but…

“Hold on,” Marinette turned back to Chat on her yo-yo. “Chat? Call the Guardian, we’ll need Monkey, Fox and Pegasus for this one—Tiger on standby.”

“You got it m’lady, Chat out!”

With the call ended, Marinette put together what happened to the victims and swore.

“Queenie, patrol now, stick to the rooftops and don’t draw attention. Contact me and Chat when you find them, and do not engage. I need you to not get hit for this plan to work.”

Queen Bee nodded, quick to leave.

Marinette took to the rooftop as she waited for either Queen Bee or Chat to contact her. She wasn’t expecting Wonder Woman and Batman’s sons to make contact first.

“What the hell is going on!” Red Robin sounded… panicked?

“Ladybug, are you certain you are not in need of further assistance?” Wonder Woman asked, eyes moving about nervously.

“Let me guess, someone got hit by the beam and ended up food?”

“I know I say I’m a snack, but I don’t want to literally be a snack,” Nightwing panicked while looking behind him. “Red Hood got hit before I could stop him.”

Was it bad she wanted it to be Robin that got hit? “I’ll fix it with the Cure after my team handles this. I’m waiting for the three I sent for to get back to me, and Bee to give me their current location—unless the akuma is still there?”

“Long gone,” Red Robin confirmed. “It was headed toward one of the restaurants by the Paris Grande Hotel that helps.”

“Of course—I swear Hawkmoth just picks landmarks and tourist locations for fun at this point. He’s clearly never lived here otherwise.”

“What!”

“Nothing, my team has it under control. Keep your team out of our battles—we have magic protections, you don’t.”

“But!”

“I apologize Ladybug, I did not think—”

Marinette pinched her brow as another call came in.

“Wonder Woman, while the thought is appreciated, I have to go now.”

She ended the call, to see Queen Bee’s icon. “They’re by the Tower”

“Of course. Forward to Chat, I’m on my way. We’ll be having some old friends join.”

“Our friends or the batbrats.”

“Our friends.”

Queen Bee hummed as she cut out, probably to catch Chat and the others up.

Marinette made it there without being seen. It felt wrong but there have been worse battles before. She landed by Queen Bee with ease, and waited for Pegasus to bring the group over.

The akuma was a small child from what she could see, and held tight to… that wasn’t a wand. That was a switch. She felt a bit sick at what it meant, and suddenly felt less horrified for the first victims.

“As requested,” Chat gestured to the portal. “One Renard Rogue.”

Nathaniel stepped out, a bit twitchy but otherwise ready. She was glad she picked him for this—he proved with Evillustrator he could work well with magic.  As a civilian he is the right type of creative to keep someone distracted with a story or something flashy. (Alya was more...hands on, Nathaniel kept his distance, which... is better for a fox).Just what they’d need for the akuma.

“One Monkey.”

Kim came out with a nervous grin—they both knew he was good but that he needed to really have good aim for when his weapon hit.

“Our Pegasus will be joining us shortly, as he and the Guardian are talking Tigresse from bolting here and running in head first… again.”

Marinette wished Alya would stop that, on some level. On the other, its why she and Roaar get along so well. Bravery goes hand-in-hand with impulsivity.

“Okay, now if I’m right about this, the akuma should be hard to get unless we follow the plan.” She waited for everyone’s attention.

“I want Renard to distract first and foremost with Chat protecting him. Monkey, when I give the signal, hit them with Uproar. While they’re distracted I need Queen Bee to hit them with Venom, if it’s a tricky shot we need Pegaus to get her close. If that fails, Tigress is released onto the scene and we all know that should throw the kid and Hawkmoth off their game. Chat and I will use our powers if all else fails but…”

Marinette glanced over at the child.

“I’d rather be able to find out what happened and help them with the police and CPS after this.”

The group nodded while Nathaniel began to play.

Pegasus raised an eyebrow when he made it. “What’d I miss?”

“You’re on standby on location. If things get hairy, either drop Queen Bee off next to the akuma, or get Tigresse here.”

Pegasus nodded, making sure to have a clear vantage point.

Marinette didn’t check what the mirage was, only waiting for the child to go to the location Renard crafted.

Once the child was no longer throwing our beams, Kim used Uproar. A simple ball this time—to both his and Marinette’s relief. Kim pitched it quick as the Illusion disintegrated.

“No fair!” The child screamed when their powers were shooting off at random. Things weren’t turning as they should, left in some strange in between state.

Marinette nodded at Queen Bee and Pegasus.

“Voyage.”

Queen Bee murmured ���Venom,” Before running into the portal. She hit the kid quick.

Marinette and Chat came down then, looking over the frozen child.

“Its okay,” Marinette soothed as she looked them over. They were scared and Hawkmoth was--god she hates that man. He’s hurting them.

“Here M’lady,” Chat handed her the switch with a leery eye.

Marinette snapped the switch and the corrupted butterfly escaped. “No more evildoing for you little akuma!” she snapped it up in her yo-yo before releasing a white butterfly. “Bye-bye little butterfly.”

Marinette gestured for Chat to keep the kid busy while she summoned her Lucky Charm and used the Cure. She made sure to catch the reverse ladybugs and catch them in her yo-yo. No need to let people remember their traumatic death.

“Chaton, I’ll be back in a bit.”

“Understood M’lady, I’ll keep our little buddy company.”

Marinette nodded, quick to grab the miraculous boxes guarded by Queen Bee, ever faithful to Ladybug and the rules for remaining a permanent holder—no looking into the temporary holders, but collect the miraculous for her and Chat when they couldn’t.

“Roaar should still be the Guardian. You can meet him when he says you’re ready, until then, I’ll take these guys home. Thank you for watching them.”

“Hmpf, as if I’d ever betray your trust.” Queen Bee softened then. “Thank you again for giving me another chance.”

Marinette eased up. “You earned your second chance as a civilian with what you’ve done for your classmates, like protecting a certain model from a liar. That was enough for me with the fact that you’ve always been a good hero in the mask. I’m glad you’ve grown outside of it, just don’t backslide.”

Queen Bee nodded while her miraculous beeped. “Gotta go, Can you cover patrol for me and Chat tonight?”

“I—Yes! You can count on me!”

Marinette smiled at that. “Great, bug out!”

Marinette swung to a safe place to de-transform and put the miraculous boxes in her backpack. While Tikki ate, Marinette made her way to Fu’s.

“Do you think those boys will calm down now?”

“Mmh, they should. If not…”

Marinette knew that meant the kwami would take matters into their own hands. And she didn’t like the idea of the Justice League attacking in retaliation.

Once the miraculous were back with Fu, Marinette transformed to deal with whatever nonsense the Justice League had in store for her.

“…he’s not a hot dog anymore.” Nightwing said

“Yep.” Marinette did her best not to look too insulted.

“Ladybug, if I may—“

“I am not answering questions when I have a victim to look after. The child was likely being starved and beaten for god knows what, and I need to ensure their permanent removal from their current household and placement into a safe location. Battles are off limits for non-magic users here—every meta and professional fighter in the city knows this. I see you didn’t check the basic legal work with civilian aides here.”

That seemed to get Nightwing to sit up a bit straighter. “We’re heroes too.”

Wonder Woman interrupted for her. “This is Order business, all non-members are civilians in your teachings, yes?”

Marinette glared as she nodded. “Unless you’re powered by a tiny god, stay out of the battles. We have enough people getting akumatized in their sleep from nightmares, I’d rather not add any Leaguers—as I said many times before you were sent.”

That caused Nightwing to wince. “We were not informed of any of this. My apologies—I’ll inform my brothers and try to keep them out of your hair.”

“See that you do,” Wayzz added over her shoulder. “I am not above letting my siblings wreck havoc to make a point.”

“Wayzz,” Marinette warned. “I can handle this, please keep Roaar from breaking out again and giving people the idea that they should join future battles. Again.”

Wayzz flew off.

Marinette rubbed her forehead. “I need to go. I have police to handle, a child to remove from monsters, and I can’t do my homework or essays or any of my other civilian life things until all that is handled.”

Nightwing signed off. Wonder Woman was concerned, Marinette could feel it.

“Yes Wonder Woman?”

“I did not mean to add to your stress.”

“I know.” It didn’t mean she didn’t.

“Perhaps I could have one of the bats help with tending to victims for you, to give you some more free time to tend to your civilian side.” That would be nice but…

“Unless they’re familiar with healthy coping mechanisms for traumatized children, I’m going to have to turn you down.”

“Are we counting vigilantism as a healthy coping mechanism?”

Marinette raised an eyebrow. That was too much to unpack at the moment.

“I will send Nightwing to help speak with the child—he is good with children, and has been in such situations himself.”

Marinette took a deep breath. “He can cover the 11 to 6 watch, by then the kid should have a place to stay.”

Wonder Woman smiled at her.

Marinette relayed the message to Chat before speaking to the police and explaining what she saw. Marinette and Chat kept the child far away from the others in the house, and far from hearing whatever ‘justifications’ they had.

The pair didn’t think about leaving until the child was fast asleep, sure to wake up again later. They knew another city’s hero would be there then to help them out.

Nightwing approached them slowly.

“If you even think about—“

“I won’t.”

Marinette eyed the hero.

“I promise, just, how are they holding up?”

“They go by Syd. Somehow they got it in their head that making mistakes means no meals. Pretty sure dyslexic and they’ve been failing spelling tests.”

Nightwing winced. “Any allergies or…”

Chat raised an eyebrow. “None.”

“Good. I’ll be back.”

Chat petted the kid’s hair while leaning against Marinette. “M’lady?”

“Yes Chaton?” Marinette waited for him to continue.

“I… is…”

She waited for him to find his words.

“Is it okay for Father to…”

“To…”

“…restrict access to food at home.”

Marinette stilled a bit. She knew it wasn’t good with Gabriel but…

“May I ask how?”

“No more than 900 calories a day.”

“Chaton.”

Chat winced, waiting for something. “I am going to kick your father’s ass.”

Nightwing paused at the door, not that Marinette knew he was there.

“No one, and I mean no one, should have that---that’s abuse chaton, especially if what you said about not being allowed to see anyone outside of a list your father approved of, or that you have to make appointments to talk to him weeks in advance. I just… That man is toast.”

“I, it’s not that bad m’lady…”

“Chat, I am getting you out of there, okay? I know who your civilian side is. I just need a plan.”

Nightwing knocked before entering.

“Here, I figured light veggie pizza, fries and a hot chocolate should help. I know they need to take it slow, but this should work for small bit for the night. You two get some rest, okay?”

Nightwing sent a text to the others: Chat in bad home. Bug is working on something—might get magic siblings if B finds out and Wonder Woman doesn’t beat him to punch.

--

That’s all i got for this installment. 

Next Time: I’m thinking about (for damian’s POV) having Damian be watching Marinette do her routine, and freezing when he hears her ‘blackmail’ someone over the phone as “He’s not staying there if i have anything to say, and if it makes you feel better, you’re stealing the face of his brand, you know, if basic decency isn’t enough” (to felix, probably) and decides Marinette is a dangerous person to watch out for, and better to keep an eye on as she’s probably doing something wreckless.

followed by Batboys having a meeting about their role after Damian gets back, with Nightwing updating them on the fact that the kids didn’t even want them there in the first place, and it sounds like the JL is twisting their arm on this more than they thought, the combat ban, and you know, the fact that one of the heroes is in an abusive situation, so. They need a Plot to keep the kid holding destruction somewhere safe without letting out their identities, and giving the miraculous team breathing room.

And quick poll: Nightwing meets Marinette when she’s almost mugged on a delivery before Dick meets her,OR  Dick meets her at a gymnastics place where she’s helping a ten year old Manon with stretches before going off to practice a routine on bars with an instructor that knews the Flying Graysons and invited Dick over to show him the place, OR Dick meets Marinette while getting Tim’s order and almost dies when he finds out Marinette calls him ‘zombie’ before sending Damian a message that his classmate is his new favorite person, and may be his sister soon if Dick and Tim have anything to say about it.

Jason meets her a little later as Gina (his favorite traveling biker granny who adopted him) needs to Appear first, and i like her crashing in at random, berating Jason for taking forever to call her back and then demanding he meet his brother/uncle and his family Right Now Or So Help Her and him being too scared to argue.

Sound Good? 

@worlds-tiniest-spook-pastry @littleredrobinhoodlum @northernbluetongue @kceedraws @pirats-pizzacanninibles @theatreandcomicfreak @daminett4life @catthhay @weird-pale-blonde-person @amayakans @chocolatecatstheron @tired-butterfly @multplelifes @yin-390 @area51qt

[spacedoutbunny]

Chapter 1

She was perched on the rooftop like a bird would perch if birds perched on this particular rooftop. Except they didn`t. Birds avoided this particular rooftop because they knew she perched there. It was almost out of respect for her two leggedness of perching.

She stared into the street before a crowd of people had begun to form. Soon there would be too many. And so, she betook herself off from perching to sliding down the roof and then to the gutter and then to falling off. She had to fall just right and so she waited.

Two nights previously the Abegaineo Family had sat down to have a conference. It was to discuss who, if anyone wanted the job would become head of the family.

 It was an annual discussion, that generally ended up with a vacant chair. 

Mostly it was an opportunity to come together to discuss what had happend during the past year and have a rather nice party. Introductions for marriage were also discussed where necessary for family continuity was paramount. Each branch carefully chosen. But bloodlines always from outside the family. No one who was not family could attend. And this meant no one who was not family usually had no clue they were under discussion.

If rejected then the rejected one would never see or hear from his or her potential mate every again. There were rules in place for a reason. 

Everyone took the name Abegaineo once chosen. No one ever left the family. Death was the only exit, but at this point even Death knew better than to take any within their ranks. 

They all just took up positions “Elsewhere” it was just how it worked. 

Those who had known when the chair had been filled had long since gone “elsewhere”. No one was here who remembered at this particular gathering. 

There was light music coming from the ballroom. It had a slightly eerie edge as though something was a little off kilter. Listen too long and it could set your teeth on edge. Listen longer and the need to start a fight grew. After that it was too late and usually involved rubber rooms. 

Chapter 2 

Two days later and outside, the percher was close to falling. And so she did. The person who caught her however, was not who she was expecting to catch her.

One step back and two streets over the intended catcher walked on oblivious. She had been redirected by a series of events that did not seem contrived, but in fact were. 

The recipient of the falling girl was surprised and not delighted. He had been carrying a painting at arms length so as not to bend or break it. So his arms had been extended in the correct position for falling into.  The girl did not yet know it was the wrong person. 

The painting fell out of his hands at the exact moment she hit. And a bunch of expletives followed after. The girls pride was a little hurt. The mans anger and concern for the painting over the person, put her back up. She stood up quickly enough and was about to lay into him when she really noticed his eyes, and then his hands which once again were holding the painting. 

“She apologised. She actually apologised” 

Across the street hidden in shadow Hecate stood talking to her companion, a sparrow. The bird perched on Hecate`s shoulder. “But it was the wrong one” he shrilled. “Where has Nona got to?Nona was supposed to catch her! This took bloody weeks to set up  and it`s all but banjaxed, I`m going to check up on Nona” and the sparrow flew off. 

Nona had wandered into a Cafe she sat looking out at the people walking past as she sipped her coffee. they all had the same bored expression. “Ruddy Robots”. She sighed and got up after finishing and continued down the street. 

A sparrow flew past her head and hit a window, it fell to the ground. 

Nona had not seen it. She was walking without really paying attention the projects in her head were outweighing the noises surround her, the people were a blur. 

A sparrow flew right past her and it a window, it fell to the ground.

She did not see it. 

The third time it happened and Nona ignored it the sparrow flew off muttering.

“Did you just say `for fucks sake?`” 

The sparrow came back round and hit a window right in front of her face, and landed on the ground at her feet. She nearly trod on it but instead bent down to pick it up. “Bloody suicidal birds.” she placed it gently on a table. It fluttered its wings pathetically. “Good God you want me to take you home?” Flutter “Ah what the heck. People think I`m nuts anyway” and she picked the sparrow up. “Better find you a box or something.” 

She rooted around in an recycling bin and found an empty box and put the sparrow inside. She continued to root around inside the bin. She found a bit of wood, some bubble wrap and an orange that was close to going mouldy and there was a painting just thrown to one side. The picture intrigued her and the rest she could find a use for.  She carried it all along till she found a spare poly bag floating down the street, then placed most of the items into the bag. 

The box with the sparrow in contained it and the bubble wrap, but no air holes. The sparrow was comfy but pissed off at the lack of air. 

Nona finally made it back to her flat/studio. she opened the box. The sparrow fluttered weakly. “I bet you need water” she said. The sparrow was thinking it could do with a gin sling right about now.

Nona found a pipette. The sparrow was really hopeful when it saw the clear liquid and nearly choked when water went past its beak. 

Chapter 3

Meanwhile Hecate was watching her main charge walk along with the man with the painting still held at arms length. 

Arabat-Lile,better known as Lily, kept pace with the man and his painting. Still apologising, it fell on deaf ears. This man was a nightmare. He tripped over stuff and nearly fell, he bumped into people and got banged a lot. It was only because Lily steered him, that he made it to his destination. A museum. He almost tripped up the stairs but made it inside and down to the store room where he gingerly placed the painting on the floor against a wall. 

He looked around and finally noticed Lily, and almost jumped out of his skin, falling backward. He might at that point, have crushed the painting, but Lily grabbed his arm and pulled him forward, so he fell into her. Once again their eyes met. She saw a flash of light, literally a flash, then it vanished. He saw her face and realised it was symmetrical. Both said “Wow” 

Hecate still hiding in the shadows just said “shit” it was very deep. 

Hecate needed information and quickly. Everything that could have gone wrong “had” gone wrong and she knew nothing about `Calamity` as she had begun to call him. Not his name, nor his purpose, not a damn thing except he couldn't function well at all. As human males went he was ... well ... clumsy.

Lily had managed to get them out of the storeroom and into a cafe on site at the museum. 

“You mean you had no idea you were coming here?” Lily asked

“No, none at all. One minute I was rooting around in an antique shop and the next I found that painting and I knew I had to take it here directly. 

Lily stared at him “It`s a Blue you know.” Calamity raised an eyebrow.

 “Blue as in Ambrose Blue?. There were no known Ambrose Blue paintings left to be discovered unless perhaps it was in a private collection.” Lily said echoing what the curator had said.

The curator who had been passed the painting had been sceptical about its origin. “There are NO Ambrose Blue paintings left around” he snorted at the idea.  And then on closer inspection he had nearly choked and having left a photograph and a paper of ownership with Calamity had whisked it off to be authenticated. 

“if it is a Blue” Lily continued “then it would appear you may be quite well off”

Calamity sipped his coffee carefully “You think?” he asked. “You knew it could be a Blue but to be honest I know very little about art as a rule, I`m more a collector of old Games and consoles. I was rummaging around for an old Nintendo when I found the painting.”

“Games?” Lily asked. The blank look on her face spoke volumes

“You know PS4, Xbox, Nintendo, Game Cube.” He searched her face for signs of her taking the mickey. 

“I`ve played Poker before does that count? Only I wasn`t very good at it and lost to be honest” 

“Where have you been hiding all these years?” Calamity was thunderstruck. “The Moon?”