#i think this is like the first time i ever drew luka not as like a stick figure aklfjlsajf
Note
same anon here, incredibly interested in the history from someone who lived through it
ok!
here's my own rundown on why the vocaloid bubble burst in the mid 2010s!
almost irreversibly! (don't worry— this story has a happy ending)
if anyone is wondering, yes, you can reblog this! i only say this because this took a lot of work to write so if anyone feels compelled, yes, stroke my ego a bit, i allow such a thing. now, i might get snippy here and there, but i'm not serious at all. my sense of humor is pretty tsukkomi-ish and it shows up in how i describe things. <-disclaimer for if this post breaks containment because i know fandom types don't like my sense of humor if they're not given the context that i LOVE what i'm talking about and rib on it out of utmost adoration
as a disclaimer, i do lightly look things up to check on stuff timeline wise and its validity, but this is from my own point of view and memory and a personal retelling, so if you have a different take on it then i'm sure our viewpoints can co-exist. also, i speak about utaite from the point of view of someone who respects their existence but does not participate. so if a few facts are off... i am speaking only from the aspect of what relates to what i'm talking about. also if there are any typos i stopped being thorough with my checking and editing like 4k words in since i am not being paid to write this, it is just for fun. anyways~
so where we wanna start here is before the big bubble era. i think most people would agree that it was in full swing around mid 2012, but i'll set the date at september 23, 2011. the posting of the song kagerou daze (by the way, as a testament to how much of a boomer i am, despite being an kagepro fan from the start i find myself still using the "kagerou days" romanization by accident every time). by the way, senbonzakura, one of the biggest vocaloid songs ever for the longest time, was posted only a few days earlier. just to paint a picture. but that's not the only thing... i think what we want to look at especially is the end of the vocaloid2 era and what was going on during and before. the final vocaloid2 product, vy2, was released on april 25th, 2011. in this timeline, there are a few angles i wanna focus on. the state of the culture, its spread, utaite and producers. by the way, if i had to date when i met vocaloid, it was around 2008. right before gakupo came out, maybe.
around this time, the culture of vocaloid-ke (vocaloid family) type secondary works were falling out of fashion. 2010 and before, i feel that vocaloid had a strong image of nico nico douga especially— not that it didn't during the bubble era. but i mean the people participating. when miku came out, people viewed her as a novelty while still thinking to themselves they had stumbled across something special. there was no subculture like that before, and the closest counterpart to this was idolmaster. now, many know this is the origin of the -P suffix came from. it's a tossed around factoid now but people should know that it was certainly a phenomena back then. and a LOT of early miku adopters (like 80% were either already in the doujin music scene, the DTM (desktop music) scene, trained musicians or even some industry pros. and a lot of these people were nerdy and geeky and loved anime and games and manga so of course their first point of reference for building vocaloid's identity was idolmaster. touhou, idolmaster's next door neighbor, also had a lot of influence given many of the music people in its scene dabbled in vocaloid early on. so naturally the fans that were attracted to vocaloid were also nerds. at first there were only cryptonloids, but gakupo quickly followed (and continuing in the trend of heavy nnd association— kentaro miura (RIP), a big fan of nnd and especially idolmaster— designed and drew his art 100% pro bono out of love for the site and its culture). luka came out... i think gumi was the first shift. gumi just felt, different. i personally owe it to her being modeled after ranka lee, the iconic role of her voice provider, megumi nakajima— ranka lee was the underdog character in her source macross frontier's love triangle. so i feel like that image somewhat imprinted itself on gumi. gumi was not popular at first at all. her release came and went with not much fanfare. ironically the aspect of rivalry would come back under stuff like the miku vs gumi debate. this is probably the first real demonstration of "it doesn't matter how good the voice is, it matters who uses it and how that propagates the voice".
and so i arrive at the producers of the time, maybe late 2008 early to mid 2009, the newcomers. the ones that weren't necessarily otaku through and through, but more on the "teenagers who like vocaloid and/or don't have a singer to sing for them, and want to make music". i will be specific and say it is people like wowaka (RIP), deco*27 and hachi/kenshi yonezu specifically. wowaka for example had a very fresh take— his pvs deemphasized the vocaloid, but it also inspired many fan pvs because of it. i will not go into how it became ironic that he quit due to the attribution to the voice. but his moody lyrics captured a lot of hearts and his style carried a youth to it. hachi did a lot of his own artsy pvs. deco*27 was very unpolished and amateur but his music was VERY of the times. the synths, the guitar, very youthful. aside from wowaka, whose comeup immediately led to him getting signed quickly (and the guy himself just walked and i don't blame him) i think what made these guys (deco and hachi) stand out from the rest in the end is one thing: they picked up gumi. and this set them apart from the old and dusted otaku who didn't pick gumi up, or those who picked her up thinking of her only as ranka lee. mozaik role (still deco's most viewed song on nnd btw, with no sign of stopping. and he is clearly PISSED about it). matryoshka. all that kibs of noise. by the way, matryoshka's stint in the vocaloid rankings went unchallenged until it was finally killed by senbonzakura. that's a good two years of dominance!! a lot of the breakout stars or people who got more popular during 2010 used gumi, i'm talking your 40mPs, your sasakure.UKs, your buzzGs. incidentally, a lot of these people got signed... most for their vocaloid stuff. 40mP, sasakure, deco, kous and others were signed under label split-offs like U/M/A/A. wowaka and hachi... were signed for themselves. specifically, wowaka and his band hitorie, and hachi as himself kenshi yonezu.
but producers were not the only ones being signed. utaite, who had been a thing before even vocaloid was a thing, found themselves growing rapidly due to them increasingly participating in the culture as both fans and beneficiaries. personally, i split off utaites eras as "before piko and akiakane" and "after piko and akiakane". the before era included people who either started very early on when vocaloid became a thing on nnd, or started before it (participating in chorus medleys or posting utattemita videos of anison for example, like gero). it was all amateur and everyone was doing it for fun... but the record companies doth lurk around the vocaloid scene at this rate. akiakane and piko i pick specifically because they were the first utaite who were very publically signed. piko was signed under sony's ki/oon records! akiakane had two or three big albums under the subsidary of VAP, toy's factory (if you wanna have fun take a look at the list of talent they rep). piko is especially important— as he had a vocaloid made of him. this marked first big interest of corporations and large record companies to actually enter the vocaloid space— in the most direct way possible. btw, the reason piko the vocaloid is dead is because piko the person is no longer signed under sony. it's not outright confirmed, but piko the guy stopped tweeting about utatane piko the second he transferred labels. he is stuck in a weird catch 22 he probably will never be free of, though yamaha is doing some insane moves lately, i wonder if they'd ever try to buy the character out and revive him as a stunt. (they are doing many funny stunts lately. but a subject for another time.)
finally, my last point in this preamble is the interest in telling stories through vocaloid had only continued to grow. i think the two biggest early examples were the prisoner series by shujinP and the ever so infamous evillious chronicles by mothy. their explosive popularity is wholeheartedly owed to rin and len— ok this is a tangent but this is the genius of the rin and len package, that to this day was never replicated, they come together as you know and since they are male and female with no set setting, they are an easy buy and you can make a story because you can do two points of view across several songs... like literally. its paperplane vs prisoner. daughter of evil vs servant of evil. and their fans were and continue to be super passionate. it's great, we would be missing a huge chunk of what makes vocaloid subculture what it is without them. of course, shujinP's series (plural because they had several) is less known these days but it was probably the first series to get plays and novels and all that. quickly followed by EC. later came series like sasakure's doomsday series, stuck in a limbo between old and new era (most of the songs released in the old era but the novelization and such came out during the new), and a few "outsider" series like numtack05/putinP's series (the reasons this never got popular is because it was absurdist and shitpost-y and involved too much political imagery, not only that but also because putinP used a lot of copyright samples (most famously ronald mcdonald and sazae-san clips)— the freely distributed album vers omit these samples entirely and i can confirm the songs are worse for it)
so to give a summary of the above section
the tastes of fans were maturing
there was a shift in how vocaloid was perceived
the growing influence of utaite
the growing interest of big corpos in the scene
the growing interest in storytelling using vocaloid as a medium
anyway, here comes the real deal. and... it's gonna be a mess. just like the era itself was. i hope you're ready, at least.
even the very first echo of vocaloid3 felt kinda corpo-y. it wasn't, but.. looking back. it kind of felt like it. the first time we ever found out about v3 was through a leak of seeU's demo— but it was a work in progress leak, so it had the voice of her provider dahee kim singing along. people had no idea so they assumed this was the capability of the software. it was exciting! kpop was just starting to get popular, and we were getting a new vocaloid software, with korean capability!!!
anyway. we're not talking about the can of worms that was seeU.
not just because of dahee kim. but because it's not related beyond this. also the fact that korean fans were heavily and horribly mistreated by the majority japanese fandom for obvious reasons. i do not have the depths to speak on that stuff, but it says a lot that the software's first big swing ended up like that.
but i wanted to illustrate the mood of the fans going into this era. it was full of hopes and dreams. now, i don't want any wannabe know-it-alls wagging their fingers at me and checking the wikia going "b-but cullen, mew also came out!! at the same time!!" the seeU leak came out first. i remember there were fights over whether or not that demo was real. it was a cultural shift like no other. who the fuck cares about mew? literally her only legacy is one really amazing ezfg song. i will not debate anyone on this btw. i try to be objective but i'm allowed to inject a bit of my own opinion here too. you know who were also full of hopes and dreams? the companies. not your internetcos and your ahsofts, no, i'm talking publicly traded shits and record companies. look... i'm coming off harsh. i actually don't hold that much animosity, but you're gonna see why this was the first huge misstep of the era.
nice picture, right? this was the kind of optimism we started off this era on. but, i'll break down the picture for you in a way that helps illustrate a point somewhat:
your girlies from V2 like gumi (who was this era's it girl), lily, galaco (even if her shitty V2 version is contest only)
your earnest newcomers mew (look, even yamaha girlies count), cul, aoki lapis, seeU (one could argue.), IA (one could argue...)
tone rion of dear stage (who represented dempagumi inc., the group her voice provider came from, though this was a myth for years until it was proven... also it was clear they wanted to make the rest of dempagumi into vocaloids but rion flopped at the time. there was even a picture of her friends floating around. astoundingly embarrassing confidence. one billion dead vocaloids.)
akikoloid-chan of lawsons (yes, the convenience store! she is a vocaloidification of their mascot and i would argue the poster child of the modern brand private vocaloid. she was retired in uh.. 2019 i wanna say? though she was dormant for a long time anyway)
ring suzune, the aborted failure of minna no vocalo keikaku (everyone's vocalo-project)... this one involves a lot of otona no jijou AKA adult circumstances (japanese corpo's favorite excuse. you will now notice this phrase every time you hear it oooo). just unfortunate all around
yuzuki yukari of vocalomakets, i put her in a separate category because she really is a girlie of her own. a vocal born from producers being dissatisfied that their wants weren't being answered and no company was taking them up, they just went "fuck it" and produced yukari on their own. a huge outlier in this era of vanity projects and companies using the scene for their own crap.
not pictured, but i have to mention her due to her complicated position in this era, but mayu of exit tunes. exit tunes is a record label that heavily supported vocaloid and utaite during this era, signing both producers and utaite, and making compilation cds of popular vocaloid hits. and probably saw to it that due to their dominance in the area of compilation cds (and they still dominate, even if their releases are sparse these days their cds still top oricon without effort), them sneaking mayu into the tracklists would work... my thoughts on this? my position has softened a lot over the years. and i've always thought "they gave up right before she organically caught on, they should have kept pushing. so what a shame".
now you may notice i bolded a few of these and made special mention of the companies behind them. you probably already figured it out, but this era had heavy investment from parties who had only to gain from a rapidly growing niche subculture. see, unlike the other two of nnd's big three idolmaster and touhou, who are IPs where you need some kind of cooperation to officially get in on, vocaloid... is incredibly free, so laissez faire in comparison. you buy a 9,000 dollar dev kit and get to work making your mascot. it was... so easy. so free. so sweet. but real life is not so easy, or free, or sweet. you actually had to be accepted by the fans, and like i said before... the voice does not matter. what matters is who uses it, and how that propagate the voice. this is true time and time again. it is the ultimate "how many times do i have to teach you this lesson, old man?!" of the scene from a commercial standpoint. no matter how many years pass. ergo, one billion dead vocaloids. corpo vocaloids were releasing and they flopped immediately. earnest products from newcomers were dropping and struggling, though def doing better than the corpo ones (like lapis, lapis did ok). existing "in crowd" companies were vomiting out new vocals and not even promoting them. it was a disgusting era of excess and death and bile and plague and war and and and. it's astounding that it is hard carried by the art that came out of it. because if you only look at the commercial side of things, it is fucking disgusting.
now, onto the fan aspect. remember when i said this era truly kicked off when kagerou daze came out? yup. here it comes. so, anyone lived through this era remembers the cambrian explosion of original projects that did not make use of vocaloid mascots— arguably the final death knell of vocaloid-ke secondary works being the mainstream.
now, i'm planting my flag in the ground here very firmly— i do not ride the bandwagon of the people who erroneously attribute the near death of the scene to kagepro. it's just not true. personally i have a very complicated (bordering on near sort of but not quite negative, depending on how nostalgic i feel that day) relationship with the series, but to blame it is incredibly narrowminded and ignorant of the actual reasons the bubble burst, and not to mention unfair. if you find it annoying, fine. but just say you don't like the series and move on. and really, for better or for worse, mekakucity days and mekakucity records are unironically god tier vocaloid albums that will be remembered for years to come. i just have to say this because i see a lot of people blame jin for very flimsy reasons... SHUT UP!!! anyway.
i think one of the issues with the whole project culture that flourished during this era was simply the fact that since they were multimedia projects (whether by accident like kagepro or intentionally from the get), fans were coming from all angles, and even those who got into it through vocaloid eventually became super mega invested in them as separate IPs. which is... unfortunately an issue. so when these properties eventually spun off into manga, light novels, covers with real seiyuu, merch and ultimately some even netting anime projects... once those projects either abruptly ended (lol, lmao, this will come back later) or reached their natural conclusion, inevitably a lot of those fans either leave with it or found themselves burned out on vocaloid itself, or perhaps even think they've outgrown it.
next, utaite. now i mentioned a bit earlier about how the first batch of utaite were amateurs who didn't expect anything out of it and did it just cause, and how exit tunes signed a lot of them in this era. now, comes the time i speak about utaite "after piko and akiakane". i believe due to a generational gap and subconsciously perhaps due to the signing of a few utaite from the old guard at this point, the nu utaite of the 2010s had a sort of individuality to them... this isn't an insult, and a large part of their popularity actually came from them always collaborating and a lot of them ending up befriending each other. again, i'm an outsider, but i understand this much. but this era for utaite was the beginning of the idea that an utaite can become a superstar. in the end, very few of them did become superstars.
a lot of them naturally returned to a normal level of popularity after the bubble. there aren't a lot of your AtRs or your amatsukis and such. the smart ones became vtubers before being a vtuber was cool. to give an example: un:c and hashiyan who are arguably oldheads more than nu era became anjo and kosaka of monsterz mate. this isn't a doxx btw, this is publically available information, and un:c often credits himself as a mixer under projects he does as anjo. also, a certain duo of female utaite whose names i will not mention went on to form the super popular vtuber duo himehima. there are other early adopters like kano and god knows who else that i don't feel like mentioning. anyway, if your utaite did it after 2018 and under their own identity it is a desperate plea for attention. sorry but it's just the objective truth. tangent over... did you think i wasn't gonna shoehorn vtubers into this somehow?! anyway.
even sutopuri who got mega popular, only really formed after the vocaloid bubble burst, perhaps even as a result of it. utaite had a positive effect on the vocaloid scene and still do. but at the time, i think it was at its strongest. utaite NEEDED vocaloid, and vocaloid benefitted greatly from their continued patronage and love for it. i for one will not be caught slandering utaite and their relationship with vocaloid even if i will always prefer the vocaloid versions. the issue here comes from the fact that way too many were signed without much star factor (i'm not disparaging them, i'm just saying they did not hold their audience across the mediums), and even at that their fans splintered off into many tribes and many weren't really into vocaloid in the first place and were more into the livestreams and twitter banter. that's just how things shook out. you even have your reols and such, as reol was the face but in a sense her, gigaP and okiku were a set and gigaP left the scene to focus on commercial work with those two. too many of them got signed and splintered off into their own little fandoms before THOSE fandoms kind of died out. so this is another part where fans disappear and lose interest. you're starting to see the pattern here, right?
there's so much stuff i thought i would touch on, like how gumi was the undisputed it girl of the scene at this time, and how kagepro rose IA to prominence (all because jin wanted to buy gumi but didn't find her in the store) and how IA's people 1st place locked certain producers in their basement (like jin, yasuhiro, ishifuro etc) and... now this is a conspiracy on my part but prevented them from working on anything else, so that drew more talent away from the scene... but i realized it's tangential and belongs to other parts in this conversation. i want to reiterate here though before we go on to the biggest elephant in the room of all which would be the point of no return... there is more to the vocaloid bubble era of 2012-2015 than projects, than corpo and record company bullshit, than utaite fans. and there is more to the era before that than the top brass producers i mentioned earlier. i really... really lament how so much of early vocaloid reuploads are gone from youtube. there's a whole world just gone. so, anyway, are you ready?
the final block in this weird jenga of a story.
the producer, suzumu, and his unfortunate associates.
i will cut to the chase because it's easier to explain who was involved once i say what happened. to put it shortly... suzumu "stole" his songs. this is weird and vague and i always hated the way people used polite euphemisms to explain it because it made the situation way more confusing than it had to be— he used his producer friends as ghostwriters to compose songs for him, basically. and was very not nice about it according to one of the people involved. now i will probably adopt a somewhat sympathetic angle that people who have previously heard of this case may have not encountered before. not because i feel bad for that fuck, but because it seems like at least one of the people impacted has forgiven him, and others have moved on in less obvious ways. he's also professionally making music in the industry now. as much as i want to keep up the act of disliking him, i don't care anymore. i still dislike what he did immensely because it impacts producers i love to this day. but the man came forth about it himself and those involved forgave him. it's been almost a decade now... man!
suzumu, before getting into posting songs (who knows how many were actually his and which were ghostwritten), was a prolific lyric writer who worked with some of the trendiest vocaloid producers around. i'll cross gigaP out, since he was not involved in the incident, but almost every single person involved in this had worked with him in a lyric or story writing capacity (for 150P and komine specifically). here are the involved parties as i recall, bolded are people who he "stole" from
mafumafu, the person who spoke the most about it post suzumu's confession and the most vocal, and likely the person who was used as a ghostwriter the most (i don't recall if he actually alludes to this or not but people commonly think this). mafumafu had a series of vocaloid songs that told a story, but stopped using vocaloid after the incident for a while and songs that were going to get pvs from his first vocaloid album were not posted. he contributed a song called machigai sagashi for the vocaloid flavored moba #compass in 2015, but it seems like that song was probably in the works since before the incident for reasons i will highlight in a moment. suzumu wrote the lyrics for only one of the songs. iirc, mafumafu's song berserk is about suzumu. don't remember if this is confirmed or not. btw, the album of those songs, meikyou shisui, is really underrated and you should check it out. im not a mafu guy but that album is great
kemu, the person who is arguably closest to suzumu and the one who most publicly supported suzumu (albeit wordlessly) in later years by working with him professionally. when i mention someone forgiving suzumu, i mean him. suzumu wrote the lyrics for most of his kemu voxx songs, a famous multimedia project kemu was on the helm of along with hatsuko as the main illustrator. since kemu no longer had a lyricist, the project stalled for years until he posted a song suddenly in 2017 (with self written lyrics). it seems like the series is continuing still, but with a different direction
150P, who worked with suzumu heavily for his shuuen no shiori (bookmark of demise) project, a project that was conceived from the start to be a story. this part makes me really mad, guys!! i'll try to keep calm about it. 150P wrote over 50 songs (idk if this is an actual number but he wrote a lot. at least 40.) for the series, with suzumu writing the story and lyrics. the character designs were done by saine (who dodged a bullet all things considered.) and the art was done by komine. 150P was already doing crazy things before shuuenpro, his most popular song is still his insane 12-len classical metal chorus song lost destination. now shuuenpro caught on slower than its peers and was an underdog. i LOVE shuuenpro to this day. you know what? right when it was finally getting its first W, when the album that had seiyuu covers at come out on oricon in third place, suzumu dropped his confession. what a slap to the fucking face!! the manga of the series hastily wrapped up after that. 150P and komine disappeared and no longer did stuff ever. 150P recently appeared for a mafumafu anniversary thing so i'm glad he's still alive. but, komine...
komine, the only non-producer, an artist with the worst luck. she was slowly rising to prominence doing pv art for a lot of popular producers, and was the main artist of shuuenpro most prominently. during the initial release of the first few shuuenpro songs, she was accused of tracing, and the art of the pv of sarumane isutori game had to be done by someone else. komine stopped using social media at that point, but continued to make art for the project quietly and quite prolifically. so she was already on some kind of fraught standing even though the tracing allegations were disproven. fast forward to the suzumu blowup, komine packed up her bags and disappeared forever. if she had become disillusioned, i do not blame her. her final public contribution was the design of jeanne d'arc from #compass, the character who was paired with the mafumafu song. all subsequent artworks of jeanne were done by different artists. i suspect the reason the vocaloid version of machigai sagashi did not have a proper pv was due to komine quitting. i can only imagine what that pv looked like! if you're wondering why i mention a pv, it's cuz compass fans got mad at mafu for having a fancy pv for his self cover but not for the original. but otona no jijou, you know? and where is that energy for eve who still hasn't released a pv for mistletoe publicly and only put it on his kuso app and with 0 compass association? who let that wishy washy fuck do an anniversary song? ...im not gonna go on a compass tangent. anyway.
so... why does this matter?
it matters because people became disillusioned due to this drama. it matters because suzumu took out some very popular and prolific people from the scene during what one could argue was a transitional phase. the fans of all those people, including suzumu's... gone. if you weren't there, you may not understand the cult of personality suzumu had. he had his name on everything and was friends with all the right people. when i heard about this incident... i just closed my eyes and sighed lol. it hurt and it hit when the scene was at its weakest. and was the final blow, almost. and it impacted the way people saw and talked about vocaloid for years. miku became "owakon" for a time. people thought kizuna ai was gonna replace her as a cultural touchstone (lol, lmao, it is proven time and time again that the big three cannot die). kenshi yonezu, in all his detached glory, came down from his jeweled encrusted throne to compose a song for miku's 10th birthday that he smugly thought was the death knell of nico nico douga.... which even at the time of its release was contested by even people who were on the same miku anniversary project and, whether you wanna acknowledge it or not, is still mocked to this day by several producers. magical mirai's theme this year even does it. there is no respect for sand planet or anything kenshi yonezu stood for in that song. what an asshole move no matter how you see it. argue with the wall if you don't agree, i don't want to hear it. the scene survived because there were producers and artists and fans who still loved it. not because of some sardonic fuckoff song by a guy so detached he'd write a funeral march for a birthday.
these days, i feel like the community is incredibly conscious of what happened. there are wanton community led events that encourage not only the creation of songs, covers, art and secondary creations but also the discovery of new producers— the biggest of which being vocaloid collection, which happens three times a year and has many categories, but most importantly the top ranking (producers active for 3+ years) and the rookie ranking. i once read a japanese article that said proseka brought new fans hungry for something beyond the music presented in the game, and vocacolle and other community led events and song posting festivals supplied the works. the average age of the new vocaloid producer is— and this is my own estimate based on how many heart attacks i've been given the past 3 or 4 years— 17~19 years old. they say things like "i know of kagepro but i wasn't there"!! should i get my cane out!! who's driving me to the retirement home?!
even companies involved in the product end are more savvy these days.... (holding my tongue about a certain company of a popular synth software and its ceo because i have nothing nice to say). i think they realized that you can't clap with one hand and that appealing to the end user and fans is a necessity. honestly, i can only be excited for what comes next. we're never going back to that dark age, i can say this with utmost confidence. do i miss the past of the times before the bubble, back when vocaloid was a smidge more geeky? sure. but we can only really move forward, so why not enjoy it
#ask#anonymous#it came up to over 5k after all#idk how i clocked that.#im so scared to post this but i cant even read words anymore so if it still has typos then so be it
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Luka set down his guitar, having perfected "I Love Unicorns" half an hour ago but hesitant to get up and leave when Marinette was sitting nearby, sketching away due to their creative energies feeding off of each other. It was incredibly alluring, the way she would get lost in her work, and he hadn't seen her anxious or upset like she'd been when they'd first met.
He wished it could be like this all the time.
Still, they'd been at it for a while and he figured that they could both use some refreshments. Standing up from the couch, he turned to Marinette to ask, "Do you want a drink?"
"Mm?" She looked up from her sketchpad, her tongue still sticking out to the side for an extra second before she seemed to come back to reality. Cute. "Oh, I can get one myself, it's okay."
"I'm up anyway. Besides, you seem really in tune with whatever you're working on," he pointed out, grinning because he knew the feeling all too well.
She tucked a strand of hair behind her ear, briefly distracting his eyes, as she gazed upon her work. After some consideration, she glanced back up at him and nodded. "As long as you don't mind? Anything's fine."
He nodded back, stepping past her and going off into the kitchen. He could vaguely hear her whilst grabbing two bottles of juice, an occasional involuntary noise sounding every now and then whenever Marinette was (presumably) critiquing her own work. He chuckled to himself, pretending not to notice but wondering if he's ever done the same thing.
As he went back to hand over the drink he'd grabbed for her, he caught sight of the sketches she'd been working on. He hadn't meant to, but his eyes had unconsciously drifted to them, probably caused by the first few days of them working on the music video where she'd always been showing him her sketchpad to get his input.
He nearly dropped the drinks when he realized that she'd been sketching him. It was clearly still for the music video, but he didn't recall any of their conversations about design involved him being in post as if he were descending from heaven, complete with light coming out from behind him. There were other sketches nearby of his face with an overwhelming sense of detail, arrows and notes everywhere theorizing on which way would be best for his facial structure.
None of said notes included color theory over the hint of pink currently forming on his face.
He supposed that he could've acted like he hadn't seen it, but it wasn't his style. Since Marinette had never been shy about her sketches, he didn't have any reason to think it might embarrass her.
Thus, he leaned down, gently nudging her arm with the bottle of juice and commenting, "Are those really me?"
She startled, though relaxed when she took in the sight of him. "O-oh, um... yes?" She frowned, taking the drink offered to her and setting it to her side. "You don't like them?"
"It's not that," he replied, glancing again at her work. He smiled to reassure her, explaining, "I think you're too generous. I don't look like that."
She tilted her head, seeming genuinely confused. "You do to me?"
Oh. Oh wow, okay. She said it so casually that it must've been true, but he was still baffled.
Something must've shown on his face, because Marinette pursed her lips in thought and turned her attention back to her sketchpad, grabbing a bunch of the pages in her hand and flipping them over to go backwards in her sketchpad to much earlier works, then flipping one at a time afterwards. He guessed that she was looking for something.
Between the designs he saw were sketches that appeared to show assorted moments, such as Juleka brushing her hair or Ivan napping. Going only off of the glimpses he saw, Marinette drew her friends to keep her drawing ability sharp.
Then, as Marinette stopped, Luka realized what she'd been doing: she was looking for an old sketch of him. He even recognized it in a way: he was laughing with a hand held up near his lips. It was when they first met, but that only confused him further if what he'd thought was true.
"I thought you were making fun of me back then, but then you said you were sorry and played my heart," she said, as if she'd read his thoughts. "I was embarrassed then, but I'm not now."
He'd had no idea. He assumed she'd simply put it behind her.
"Hm," she continued, holding the sketchpad out at arm's length and squinting at it. "I guess I drew you a little differently back then. Maybe my style changed?"
She examined the other sketches nearby, then flipped back to her current ones for comparison's sake. In truth, both sketches did look different, but he couldn't describe it with words if asked.
"I didn't draw you any more perfect," Marinette concluded. She pointed and traced specific lines with her fingers as if he could make any sense of what she was trying to point out. "All your imperfections are still there, and they make you you so there's nothing wrong with them anyway."
Luka tried not to be obvious about unscrewing the cap on his drink and taking a far bigger sip than he normally would have. His throat just felt very dry all of a sudden.
Finally showing some level of embarrassment, Marinette rubbed the back of her neck in what looked like some sort of realization for her. "U-um... I did hear once that good people can become more beautiful to someone after they get to know them. How they see them physically doesn't really change, but—" She gestured wildly with a free hand, lacking the words necessary to convey the thought. "—the way they see them changes? And..." She ducked her head, blushing as her voice lowered to a squeak. "Y-you're very, very handsome to me, Luka."
Luka, truthfully, had never had someone compliment him so directly before. There had been girls and boys alike at school who would flirt with him - some more seriously or openly than others - but not like this. Marinette spoke directly from her heart, the way that would leave one lightheaded from such a direct attack.
He took a breath, reminding himself that he must still be alive, then set his drink down on the table before moving to sit beside Marinette.
"That explains why you're so pretty to me, Marinette."
"H—huh?" She gaped at him, apparently having not expected him to "fight back." She even dropped her sketchpad, which would've fallen to the floor had he not caught it. "Me? No, I mean—I'm not that—"
"You're really pretty," he insisted gently, smile widening at the knowledge of exactly what he was doing to her. "The prettiest person I've ever known."
She opened her mouth to retort, but stopped. Her gaze flickering back to the sketchpad, she must've realized that they were on the same wavelength. "...You think so?"
He nodded. Pointing at the sketchpad, he imitated her earlier movements, his fingertip tracing along the lines of his sketch's face. "A song is only a song until you hear the meaning behind it. They might look the same on a music sheet, but it's the person playing that makes all the difference."
"Really?" She leaned towards him in an entirely unnecessary gesture to watch him trace the lines on her sketchpad. Their arms pressed together and he pretended not to notice so as to not give her the wrong impression.
"Mhm~" He looked over at her. "I hope you'll draw yourself one day in the same way I see you."
She met his gaze, eyes unmoving from his face to the point where he could see his reflection in her eyes. Distantly, he heard the shifting of paper as Marinette blindly closed the sketchpad, him having to pull his hand out from in-between the pages to let it close completely.
Clear as a music note, sincere as a melody. He hadn't said it outright, but it seemed like he'd gotten the message across even without the words.
She clutched at the fabric of his jacket, slowly leaning towards him. He leaned in return, turning to face her properly. Then—
"W-wait!"
Luka blinked as Marinette suddenly pulled back, holding the sketchpad in front of her face. Confused, he rewound his memory, wondering if maybe he had misinterpreted her leaning.
"Um..." She lowered the sketchpad enough for him to see the upper half of her face, an embarrassed blush on her cheeks. "N-not yet. Not now."
"I understand. If you're not ready—"
"No! I want to!" she insisted. "But..." She groaned, leaning back and then bumping her forehead against her sketchpad in exasperation. "We have a contest to worry about, and I don't want to be... distracted."
Luka felt an intense wave of affection wash over him at the idea that she was worried about not being able to stop kissing him if she got a taste. Thinking about it himself, he acknowledged that it would be difficult to focus on the contest after kissing her, and the fact that she wanted to do it at all was enough to satisfy him for the time being.
"Then... after the contest?" he offered.
"Yes! Definitely!" Her hands shook whilst she was holding the sketchpad, putting her excitement openly on display for him. Then, giggling to herself, she added shyly, "I-I think you just became even more handsome."
He officially didn't care whether or not they won the contest. He already felt like a winner.
#queuekanette#lukaneventte: No Context November#Flower Arrangement Shipping#Pro LukaMari#Lukanette#episode: Silencer
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i need to flesh out tock's lore more cause theres a lot of stuff that sort of floats around about her that i dont know if i want to make canon to her or not but i do want something concrete. especially in regards to her and luka cause endwalker brought some tasty ideas forth
like i personally really like the general comcept of her and luka's footsteps being out of sync in terms of parallels between wol!luka and wol!tock but their paths still paralleling each other, since mags started playing this game much earlier than me, but since we experienced endwalker together they momentarily came really close to this sort of nebulous/metaphorical/magical idea of their worlds "touching" --- they exist in each others lore as non-wol counterparts (luka in tock's lore is just a catboy back home who likes to go fishing and isnt an adventurer, and tock in luka's lore is a dwarf on the first who wants to write music about luka's adventures since she herself cant leave kholusia), but even their wol selves are interconnected in a way
ultima thule is where they truly get to "meet" in a way --- i do however like the idea that their paths became one earlier in endwalker though, but it was in ultima thule that these two seperate universes could collide since ultima thule is a nest at the edge of the universe, so its here where two distinct worlds could only ever truly meet. and thats where the depiction starts of Tock sort of "feeling" someone here
even though i technically experienced ultima thule first irl, i like to imagine Tock hearing an echoe (for the song, Echoes in the Distance) of someone else walking alongside her, and a sort of metaphorical foot path she follows after this apparition (coming back to Footfalls), and it gets loudest at Base Omicron. I always played around with the idea that the graha tia in Tock's universe of Shadowbringers who gave his memories to Tock's Graha was in some way connected to Luka, so Shadowbringers was where Tock first felt this sensation of someone beside her, since Shadowbringers was the endgame when i started playing. Its nothing either of them are fully aware of, but Graha is one of the "bridges" between their two universes that is papee thin yet there
and of course at the walk up to the elpis flowers I think that sensation returns, and simce dynamis is what manipulates ultima thule and made these apparitions of others appear, that the little piece of wol!luka that exists in wol!tock's heart made his existence manifest to her side, not as his own person/recreation of him, but more like dynamis drew down that barrier that these two from colliding, yet neither were fully present --- Tock was still in her timeline and Luka in his, but in ultima thule their footfalls briefly lined up and the two becames, as they say, "close in the distance"--- and as Tock walked herself up the path to meteion, luka was doing the same in his own timeline, and they briefly walked together through the hardest and final test of their hope
From there the concept becomes fuzzy because i always try to keep tock and luka as wols seperated so i dont wanna step on mags own oc lore, since luka is not mine and hes got his own rich and complex meanings for endwalker and ultima thule, but sometimes i like to think about what it wouldve been like if in that moment of using the azem stone and standing before meteion Tock saw Luka, the true Luka, for the first time.
but this is all again not necessarily canon because mags is always putting crazy good thoughts in my head and due to not writing down my endwalker thoughts and how. OUGH endwalker is im always reworking these ideas and moments because ultimately all i need is to know that where tock walks is the same path luka walks and they both walk forward together even if they dont know it. Because to Tock Luka is a catboy back home she needs to return to because hes waiting for her return with a warm meal and to Luka Tock is a dwarf on another start he needs to return to because she'll have a new song for him. But little do they know they are so much more to each other in places close in the distance
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HAIKYUU CHARACTERS + THEIR FAVORITE FOOTBALLERS — PART 2
OTHER SCHOOLS
KARASUNO EDITION
in honor (and as an apology) of the world cup ending and my incessant discussion (hysteria) over it on this here anime centered blog, i’ve gathered a few haikyuu babygirls and have assigned them their favorite soccer players. this is a joke but at the same time it’s the most important post i’ve ever made. i’m sorry in advance for this (for the richarlison one especially)
tooru oikawa + neymar jr
like 😭😭😭 there’s no way y’all didn’t see this coming. oikawa LOVES the fun and flair that neymar brings to the pitch, and he loves the energy of the brazilian nt in general. if they were to meet i think the world would explode. HIDE your girlfriends if these two ever became friends. true menace behavior would ensue. the only bad thing messi has done was introduce the two of them
hajime iwaizumi + matt turner (taste)
iwa also clocks me as another gk meat rider. i feel like he really got into soccer in california and has been following certain players ever since and matt turner happens to be one of them. LOVES how gk’s are able to control the game in seconds with one catch, and specifically admires turner’s sound handling and how he barely hesitates. iwa <3 matt turner <3
kotaro bokuto + richarlison de andrade (TASTE)
FIRST OFF. they can both run a train on me 🤍 anyways they’re bird brothers 🦉🐦 !! so many reasons as to why bokuto loves richarlison but he LOVES how richarlison doesn’t give a shit about what other ppl think of him (re: cry more 😢). probably has been following him since his late everton days/early spurs days. richarlison’s backstory also made him cry like a little baby, and he loves how richarlison isn’t afraid to cry on the pitch and in front of his idols (we love men in tune with their emotions). HIMBO CENTRAL with these two 😭 bokuto also lost his goddamn mind at richy’s bicycle kick against serbia (he just like me)
keiji akaashi + son heung-min
this is just another one that makes so much sense to me. such sweet guys and i think akaashi really admires how much sonny loves his sport and his country 😢😢😢 sonny is a big team player and i think akaashi really resonates with that as well. was introduced to sonny through bokuto’s obsession w richarlison 😭 akaashi + bokuto and sonny + richarlison are just goated bestie pairings. when he watches games he’s always so calm until sonny scores and that’s when he jumps from the couch and screams 😭 spurs fan (derogatory)
tetsuro kuroo + paul pogba
the first thing that drew kuroo to pogba was his DRIP. kuroo was so upset to find that he wasn’t on the france nt roster for the world cup and almost didn’t watch any matches bc of it 😭 (fanboy fr). but he did get really excited to see him in the stands during the final aww. genuinely believes that pogba is the best midfielder to grace football (luka modrić is right there kuroo 😒). also believes that the reason france lost in the final was bc they didn’t have pogba in the middle. he just like me
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Hey I just wanted to tell you I love your Katelyn design so much but I saw you drew her with the lesbian flag and since shes like, cannonly bisexual ( at least cannonly likes both men and women idk if they ever use the word bi specifically) it feels a little weird and kinda erasure-ly?
sorry if this comes off as rude I dont mean it to :(
I’ve given myself a lot of freedom in my rewrite, including changing around sexualities. The og series was just super hetero with a lot of bio kids, so while it’s easy to add bi rep because that doesn’t necessarily need to alter any established relationships, gay and lesbian rep is more difficult without shifting around a lot of things. So essentially I put gay and lesbian rep where it required the least reworking. I didn’t have any interest in developing any of Katelyn canon male romances, so my version of her is lesbian. Same with Laurance, his past partners don’t matter storywise, so he’s gay. A lot of the other characters where their hetero love interests are more integral to their stories are on the bi spectrum (Nicole, Travis, Garroth, Nana)
I think it also comes down to the fact that I stopped watching before Luka was revealed, so it never stuck with me as something important to keep in canon. The first time I even heard the name in discussion my first thought was Donnas daughter lol.
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Crossposting my @summer-in-the-archives-event fic here too. [AO3] [Accompanying beautiful art]
He’d never get used to the rolling fields of quiet.
Miles behind and miles to go, not that he could see any of it through the thick blanket of fog that clung to his ankles, and his wrists, and his eyes. Miles to go before I sleep…
It was hard to describe the rain that fell, because even ‘fell’ felt like too active a descriptor. It didn’t pour, it didn’t ‘beat down’, it didn’t pelt, because those all required a sense of agency that the landscape just felt too apathetic to muster. It simply existed, and just happened to be moving downwards by coincidence.
Jon wasn’t sure if he knew or Knew that it seeped into his clothes, coating his skin, but he couldn’t even feel the droplets landing, even pinpricks of touch creating too much of a sensation for this place. He briefly wondered that, if he still had need for his glasses, would the rain even make the effort to trickle down and cloud the lenses.
The last Lonely domain he’d passed through, he’d never seen the avatar that lorded over it. He didn’t have any real interest in finding out, not like the personal vendettas that lead him to seeking out Jude, or Jared. Because with Peter dead he wasn’t left with any Lonely avatars left to chase, save the vague notions of the Lukas extended family. He was simply going to keep his head down and keep trudging, hopefully emerging through the thick banks of mist before he lost his mind to the monotony. If there was ever something to make you miss muffled cries from beneath the earth…
“Why are you here?”
The sound was accusatory, and may as well have been a shotgun in the silence. The damped chill was nothing in comparison to the ice that shot up his spine. The voice had no clear origin, no figures even silhouetted in shadow against the overgrown grass, but it came in close, delivered on the gentle, numbing breeze. Despite this, though, never in a thousand domains could he forget the sound of it. Of course it was his. Of course. Of course. “Martin?”
“No! ”
The voice sounded… Angry. But hurt, like it flinched away from the word. Like something that had been left to sit in the dark too long, that recoiled back from a stinging source of light.
“... I’m going to assume no one has called you that in a long time.” He tried to keep his voice light, as much as the stifling atmosphere would allow it.
“No one is anything here. It’s easier that way. If you’re somebody, you can be hurt. If you have too much personality, too many little facets and cracks, things start to snag and catch on it, and it drags you down to where things ache. But if you’re nothing, then they don’t have anything to cling onto. You can just slip away unharmed.” The voice sounded like it was moving, curling around him and moving from ear to ear, forward and back as it droned on in that echoing monotone that Jon had hoped he would never hear again, and at the same time, had longed to.
“And what about the good things?”
“There isn’t anything good, not anymore. You saw to that.”
Jon snorted. “Low blow, but fair.” He hesitated for a moment, trying to summon the words.
He’d had time, after he left the Lonely, to consider his actions. Regret pooled like acid in his stomach at the memory, and somehow it hurt more than ending the world. He wouldn’t say it was more important. He knew whatever he felt, and moreso, knew that one human life, was not paramount to the suffering of every creature great and small, but it felt more tangible. When he walked through the hellscapes, they were dreamlike, hazy, information in such clarity but to an extreme where it still felt nonsensical to perceive it as reality. He knew the fundamental truths that surrounded him but it still felt hard to accept them even as he lived them.
Yet despite having lived without it for eight months prior, the space beside him that failed to solidify into Martin still stung with his absence. And Jon regretted it every not-day he spent walking the hellscape, both in knowing he doomed a good man to suffering, or worse, revelry, in this new world, and in the far more personal, and far more selfish, part of him that missed him so goddamn much.
“But- But Martin, I think I made a mistake.”
“Obviously.”
“Not- Not that. I mean, when we were in the Lonely. The- The first time. With Peter Lukas.” The silence droned on, and Jon took that as his cue to continue. “Do you remember what I said? That maybe you were safer here? And that’s… That’s why I let you stay. I didn’t push you to, to leave with me because I thought you wanted to be here, that you’d be safer here than you’d be with me. But I don’t think that was entirely true.”
“I am safe here.”
“Maybe so. It doesn’t mean it’s better though, does it. Martin, I saw those people, in the last Lonely domain. I know it’s different, they were victims and you’re… You’re an avatar, here, you’re feeding off of all of this, but I promise you they were not happy. They were so alone and it didn’t protect them, it just made it worse. Think about it, the logic of this world. There are threats out there of unimaginable horror, and yet they were still assigned here, it’s their worst nightmare. And you were assigned here too. You’re all suffering, just in different ways, but all calculated to be your personal worst.”
“The Martin Blackwood you thought you knew doesn’t exist anymore. He had to be filed down, too many breaks and tears in him that grew and grew, any time someone raised a harsh word. The best way for him to be protected, is for him to go away entirely. You cannot hurt something that doesn’t exist.”
“Are you sure about that? Because you just said ‘I’.”
“What? ” That anger reemerged again, and as staunched as it was it was beautiful, a return to form amongst the dull monotone, reminiscent of the few times Jon had been privileged enough to witness a truly pissed off Martin Blackwood.
Jon found himself grinning. “You said ‘I am safe here’. Emphasis on the ‘I’. Ergo, you still have some form of identity left, and thus I would wager that the part of you left is Martin. Unless I’ve wandered across some other avatar of the Lonely who sounds like him, of course.”
“You’re always so fucking smug, you know that?”
The voice is coming from behind him. Actually, physically, presently behind him and Jon spins around so fast he’s almost dizzy.
And as much as it made his heart soar, and much as he was glad to finally, finally , see him again when he’d thought he never would, Martin looked… Bad.
His skin had darkened, mottled and blotchy with large swathes of a bruise-like blue or sickly green cropping up across his face and neck, or the parts of his forearms visible where his cable knit sleeves rolled back. It was like frostbite from the cold, or some disturbing onset of trench-foot from the damp, corpselike and unsettling. What was worse, though, were the parts that simply ceased. His hair didn’t even reach the tips, simply fading out into a grey static that merged with the mist, and it consumed his eyes whole, tear tracks streaking down his face in patterns of fuzzy, crackling grey that snapped and popped in the silence, far too reminiscent of a tape.
The sight made Jon’s heart clench like a fist, the combination of relief and horror, and in that moment he understood Jane Prentiss more completely than he ever had before. It would’ve felt like a rude comparison to consciously make, the person he cared for most equated to a pulped and writhing mass that churned out creatures that made your skin crawl before tearing into it. But he knew what she had seen in it, that call towards the thing that fascinated you, despite the turning it causes in your stomach.
Despite this, however, Jon steeled himself. This was rapidly becoming a battle, and he couldn’t afford the cost of emotions. He had to keep Martin, well… Martin. Draw out the emotion. In short, be a bit of a bastard. So instead, he cocked an eyebrow. “I thought you liked that about me?”
He could see Martin’s fists clench, the colour of his extremities dyed black from frostbite. The irritation was still clear as he started into “Fucking hell J-” but they both appeared taken aback as he dissolved into a choking, hacking cough.
It took everything in him for Jon to tamp down the need to surge forward, put a hand on his back and ask if he was okay. It was a strangely mundane thing; the man was made out of static and fog and despite seeming to have an on-and-off-again relationship with his corporeal form, this was the first recognisably human thing to adversely affect him. Why, though? What had Martin done to trigger- Oh. Oh .
“That- That priest from the statement… 0113005? Father Burroughs. He couldn’t say the name of god. Anything related to it, really. And you… You couldn’t say my…”
“Don’t flatter yourself,” Martin spat. “You’re not a god or thee god, whatever your new eye magic might imply. It’s just…” He let out a breath that turned into a grumble. While his eyes had always been cloudy, he was now refusing to meet Jon’s gaze.
Regardless, it still drew a breathy laugh out of him. “No, I’m not that far gone into my own self importance yet. But… It’s about the connection, isn’t it?” Something in the conversation had changed, it’s tone or it’s flow, that felt contradicting. Tension coiling up to spring, or they’re barrelling towards a culmination, but at the same time, Jon felt like the wind had been kicked right out of him. He lowered himself to the ground, slowly, settling among the grass and trying to ignore the unpleasant dampness under him. Hey, he could feel the damp again. That was something.
“That’s more flattering, actually, I would say… The Lonely, it thinks if you acknowledge me directly, that would loosen it’s hold on you.” Jon huffed out a breath. “You know I listened to all the tapes. What was it that Daisy said to you, when I was on the run? ‘People say you two are close’? Well, the Lonely appears to agree.” He took a minute before adding, “I would, as well. And, I’m sorry. I’m sorry I was too… Too in my own head, before, to admit it. Too much of a coward to do it before that, even. But you need to know I love you. And I know that you… Cared for me, at least? Even if I stuck my head in the sand to ignore it. But the Lonely seems to think you do, still. So will you please come back to me? I know it’s not- I know it won’t be much better, travelling through the domains, but it’s all I can offer and it has to be better than this. I can’t promise anything kind will be waiting for us in London, but you’d be yourself again, and I can’t… Martin, I can’t lose you again. To leave here, again, without you, I’d be losing you. Please.”
“No.”
There wasn’t even a delay to his response, stating it in monotone the second Jon had finished speaking. It felt like ice, lancing through his heart.
“Martin. Martin, please -”
“I said no. I thought you would’ve learned by now; I’m not exactly amenable when you come crawling to me with half baked plans of escape. Because you don’t love me, you love the idea of me. You are quite literally the only free man left in the world and you’re lonely . So you’re looking for a familiar face. Kind Martin, caring Martin, always there with tea and taking your side in every argument. Defending you to Tim when you’d just as soon slag him off behind his back, or on tape. Pretty appealing when everyone else is trying to kill you. At least he treated you like a god before this even started.”
Each sentence felt like another dagger to the chest, and it took him a moment to compose himself, tears forming at the corner of his eyes. Eventually, though, Jon spoke. “That’s not true, though. I- Martin I can’t apologise enough that that’s what it’s felt like, for you. But I need you to know, that isn’t true. A-At the start, maybe, I can’t deny I was stupid and spiteful, but you didn’t deserve any of it. And after that… I didn’t do a one-eighty and decide you were a doormat. I liked you because you were secretly enough of a prick as well. Any time you’d pull me out for lunch when I dragged my heels, or argued back when I said something shitty, that was… It felt like I was seeing the real you. The one you didn’t want to let people think of you as, but the one you were, because despite wanting to appear like the picture of innocence, you are a bitch, Martin Blackwood. And that’s my favourite thing about you. Maybe time is sweetening my memory, slightly, but I truly don’t believe there’s rose coloured glasses here. If we walk out of here, I’m not under any sort of illusion that it’ll be a honeymoon. We will doubtless find something to argue over, if not several, but I want that. I want you at my side to, to disagree and point out all my blind spots. We’re both stubborn bastards but I’m stupidly fallible, and I need you to keep me balanced. I don’t want a yes-man, I want you, Martin, and I’m asking for that knowing full well what it entails.”
When the words stopped flowing, he found himself gasping for breath, sobs building in his chest and threatening to spill over. But Martin was standing closer.
“That’s- I don’t- Fuck.” As Jon looked up, wiping at his own eyes, he could see fog starting to trickle from Martin’s mouth, coming in short bursts as his nostrils flared and chest rose and fell noticeably for the first time that Jon had seen since he stepped foot onto the moors. This caused a conflict of emotion in Jon, because while it seemed to be another step towards humanity, Martin letting the Lonely fall to the wayside in favour of reclaiming himself, it also looked far too close to a panic attack to be something worth celebrating.
“I don’t understand,” he finally settled on, voice cracking on the words. He slowly let himself sink to the ground opposite Jon, knees pulled up to his chest. “I left you. Time and again I left you. I left you to work with Lukas, and I left you when you tried to get me to run away, and I left you when I stayed on the beach.” His palms were pressed into his eyes, mist seeping from between his knuckles as he dragged them across his face, though Jon couldn’t be sure if he was attempting to wipe the fog away, or if he was stalling while he faltered, trying to summon the words. Both, maybe. Jon took the silence from him.
“You didn’t really choose that, though. You didn’t feel like you even had a choice. So Martin if… If you’re worried that I think badly of you for that, I don’t. Martin, I’ve done so many terrible things, so to- No, no, actually I don’t mean it like that. I don’t mean that you’re a good person, compared with me. I think you’re a good person full stop. And I just want you to be able to see that. I know the Lonely is quite literally clouding your judgement right now but… Please, just, just make me a deal?”
Martin’s palms were resting on his chin now, cupping his cheeks and curving around his neck. He nodded once, wearily, for Jon to continue.
Jon drew in a breath “I think I’m in some sort of… Bubble. Like a miniature domain, when I’m travelling. I think, if you agree to come with me, even for a little bit, that might dissolve some of the Lonely’s more adverse effects. Make it easier to think, to, to be yourself without its influence. If that is what happens, and you want to return… I’ll bring you back. But please, just… Try? For me?”
Martin sighed, hands dropping from his face. “...Fine.”
“You- Really?”
“Yes. I… Look, J-” Martin bit back another coughing fit. “Look. I am… There is a lot of me right now that wants to leave. The fog is… It’s in my head, figuratively, probably even literally, but… I remember something Basira said. When she got back, from, from The Unknowing . Melanie wanted to know how she got out, when the other three… When you, and Daisy, and Tim, didn’t. She said she reasoned her way out. So I’m going to listen to reason for a minute, as much as it’s paining me.”
Despite those final words, Jon felt his face crack into a smile. “That’s… Yes, you’re right. Well that’s… That’s a very reasonable connection to make.”
And for the first time in a long time, Martin smiled.
“Uhm, so how does this work then?” He eventually said, hand coming up again to scratch the back of his neck in an old nervous habit Jon could not be more happy to see.
“Well”, Jon said, taking a moment to brush sodden grass from his trousers as he got to his feet, “I would say, based on the dream logic that everything here seems to run on here, it should be rather simple.” He held out a hand to tug Martin up after him.
Martin took it.
It was almost cliché, how the Lonely fell away from him. It only took a few seconds, all in all, for the bruising to fade, receding their colourful splotches until his skin lay clear again. His frostbitten fingers healing themselves, sewing broken skin back together and returning to a healthy colour. His face, too, was returning to its original pallor, the change creeping up his neck and across his cheeks and leaving rich brown in its wake. Dark eyes stared down at Jon from behind long lashes, blinking away the last of the fog. He was beautiful.
“Hi,” Jon managed to choke out.
“Hi,” Martin said, and pulled him into his arms.
Jon just let himself be held in the pressure of the embrace for a moment, before bringing a hand up to card his fingers through Martin’s hair. While it had solidified into soft curls, the colour had stayed the same, bleaching it white under his fingertips. He wasn’t sure if Martin had noticed or not, but that was a conversation for another time. They were both a little preoccupied for the moment.
“How do you feel?” Jon eventually said, words pressed into the side of Martin’s neck.
“Uhm. Strange?” Martin eventually settled on. “It’s… I can remember what my thought process was, what the Lonely was pushing me to believe, but it’s like… It’s like the camera panned out, and now I can see it all clearly, and it looks… It looks stupid. Thank you, Jon. For coming to get me.”
“Of course,” Jon whispered, “Of course.”
Another moment passed before Martin spoke up again. “...Did you mean what you said, though? Or was that… Was that just to try and get me to leave? I- I won’t be angry, if it was, that- that’s very clever, I just want to know.”
Jon furrowed his brow. “Which part do you mean?”
Martin let out an agitated sigh. “You- You know which one I mean, Jon. The- The part where that you said that you…”
“That I love you?” Jon said, picking up where Martin trailed off.
Martin’s face flushed, and just the sight of colour spreading across it made Jon’s heart soar, let alone the implications of why . “Of course I did. I- I’m sorry that you would think I would lie about that, even for something like this. No, Martin, I love you. So very much. And I know you might not feel that way anymore, in which case I am very much embarrassing myself here, but I know that you did at one stage so I hope it won’t make things too awkward between us.” “I do, Jon.”
“What?”
“I do. Still feel that way. I love you too, of course I do. My hero.”
It was Jon’s turn to feel his face flush, pleasant warmth bubbling to the surface. “Oh,” was all he managed to stutter out.
“Can I- Jon do you mind if I…” Martin trailed off again, and Jon began to think this might be a recurring theme between them. He’d make it work. He was pretty good at reading Martin, and the eyeline pointed directly at his lips made intentions quite clear.
“Is- Would just the cheek be okay?” He replied. It didn’t really feel like the time for a full run down on where boundaries lay, but he figured it was a start.
“More than,” Martin said, leaning down to press his lips softly against Jon’s cheek. He lingered for a few seconds, skin largely healed but still chapped from the cold, and it was one of the most beautiful things Jon had ever felt. He slipped one hand into Martin’s, and he felt their fingers twine together.
Martin leaned back, clearly trying to calm his grin into something more close-lipped and calm. “Where to now then?”
“Uhm. Forward, really, is just how I’ve been going. There isn’t any real sense of geography to it, we’ll just…. Get there when we get there.”
“Right. Because nothing can be simple these days.”
Jon missed this. He missed him. But he didn’t have to miss him anymore, did he? He was right there.
He squeezed his hand once, and started leading the way.
#My Post#Jonmartin#The Magnus Archives#I'm maybe pushing this one a little hard but I just. crave validation okay#And I want to see what the difference is between how a fic does as a tumblr post vs ao3#lets call it science#My Writing#Martin Blackwood#Jonathan Sims
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When The Hero gets Saved
(or, when Marinette saves Chat Noir during an akuma attack and he forgets how to function in front of her when in his human form.)
Marinette gazed at her bare wall in awe.
Tikki swirled around her head, a collection of photographs and polaroid's held tightly in her grasp. “Have you really moved on, Marinette?” A picture of blonde hair with green eyes nearly fell from the kwamis grasp, but Marinette grabbed the photo and stared at it with a sad smile.
“Of course not, Tikki. But I need to. And this is the first step. Besides, I think that Luka deserves an actual chance.”
A soft grin graced Marinette’s lips at the thought of the blue-haired boy. After he held her in his arms during her breakdown last week, she has begun to see him in a new light. Although it seemed he understood her maybe a little too well, she was not too concerned with it. He was there for her. He listened to her cry about her problems while not knowing the half of it, and yet he was still there for her. He needed no explanation. He was perfectly okay to simply hold her.
Adrien couldn’t do that for her. Granted, she was sure if he had been there he would have been there for her as well, Luka’s presence offered her comfort that Adrien could not. This is especially relevant considering Adrien was part of the reason she was so upset. After this, Marinette and Luka began to spend more time together, and she decided that it was time to move on from the blonde boy.
“If this is what you want, then I am happy for you, Marinette.” The kwami nuzzled into her shoulder and smiled. Marinette grinned in response and began to walk to the door. As she was about to walk outside, a car was hurled just a few feet before her. Glancing into the distance, a giant creature was terrorizing the city. An akuma, surely.
Marinette turned to the side. “Tikki, sp- ah!” Before she could finish her sentence, a force grabbed her side and lifted her into the air, and the kwami hid inside her purse.
“Marinette! It isn’t safe out here. There’s been an akuma attack, you need to hide.” Chat Noir.
Internally, Marinette groaned. Yeah, and we would be able to end this if you left me alone long enough to transform. However, she knows Chat. He won’t let her out of his sight.
Once they reached the top of a particularly tall building, the cat set Marinette down. He turned to her and offered her a cheeky grin. “Don’t fear, Princess, my lady will be here soon enough and this will all be over.” She sent him a half-hearted smile before turning around and rolling her eyes.
Before she could even begin to think of a plan of how to escape Chat, the ground beneath them rumbled. She spun around to face the giant rock-structured akuma. Mud crusted its ridges and dark eyes glared upon them.
“Why, don’t you look paw-sitively stunning on this gorgeous day? Do you happen to have a skincare routine I could follow?” Chat joked before leaping and narrowly missing being pounded into the dirt by the giant rocky fist. Each step or hit caused the ground to crumble in part.
Chat continued to fight the akuma, however he kept glancing over at Marinette or offering cocky comments, making it impossible for her to escape to transform. All that she could do is hope to help in her human form.
After a few moments of observing the fight, Marinette realized that the creature seemed to avoid the puddles of water that scattered the ground. Out of curiosity, the next time they were near her, she splashed a bit of the water onto the akuma. He angrily hissed, and shrank a small amount. Marinette grinned. Of course.
“Hey, kitty, I’ve got a plan!” Chat glanced over with a patronizing smile. “That’s cute, Princess, but I really think we should just wait for Ladybug to arrive.” She resisted the urge to roll her eyes. “Just trust me, alright?”
Chat hesitated for a moment, before nodding and gesturing for her to proceed.
“I need you to lead him downstairs, after me.” He frowned. “Aren’t you going to be in danger if he’s following you?” Marinette smiled. “Thanks for the concern, kitty, but I’ll be fine. Trust me.” He sighed. Chat did not like this plan, but he obliged. A few moments after Marinette ran downstairs, Chat ran down after her, making sure the creature followed him.
Chat continued to fight the akuma in the bottom floor, however he looked around, searching for Marinette. After a few seconds, a flower pot cracked on the creature’s head. It halted and turned toward the source in anger.
“Hey, hard-head! I think you need a bath.” The akuma ran after her, stomping as it did so. Chat panicked and began chasing it, before he realized her plan. As he drew closer, Marinette turned the showerhead and turned it on, coating the rock-figure until it shrunk the size of a container of nail-polish. As it shrunk, the bracelet on its wrist fell on the ground beside Marinette. She quickly placed a cup and heavy object over the akuma, before grabbing hold of the bracelet.
She smiled before glancing up, her eyes widening in panic. “Chat!”
Before he had time to react, she lunged into him, the roof crumbling where he had just been standing. Chat glanced at the area, chuckling softly, preparing to make a joke as he turned to face his heroine, before his breath caught in his throat as he realized their position.
Marinette leaned over him, her hands on either side of his head, and she sat on his lap as he lay flat on the ground. His eyes widened and he gulped, suddenly feeling heat rush to his cheeks.
Marinette, oblivious to their predicament, smirked at the boy before playfully hitting his bell. “You gotta be more careful next time, Chaton.” She stood, offering her hand.
The ringing of the bell hummed in the atmospheric silence for a few moments before Chat blinked and grabbed her hand. “Oh-uh- right. Thanks, Mari.”
She smiled, tucking a piece of hair behind her ear. “Not a problem. Why don’t you go make sure no civilians are stuck in the remains of the fight, and I will wait here with the bracelet for Ladybug to arrive and de-evilize the akuma?”
Chat gazed at her, barely hearing a word she said.
“Chat?” Her sweet voice broke him out of his trance.
“Oh- right! Check on the citizens. See you later, Princess!” He quickly leapt away before he could embarrass himself more, although all he could think about is how he never realized how beautiful her dark hair is and how bright her eyes were.
-*-*-*-
School the next day was unpredictable.
Marinette walked through the classroom door with Alya, chatting about their plans to help Mari move on from Adrien. As they sat down, focused on their own conversation, the blonde-haired boy entered the room. He waved at Nino with a grin, before he glanced up and his smile faltered when he noticed Marinette. Oblivious to his own actions and the bag on the ground in front of him, he tripped and flopped face-first onto the floor.
The class went silent at this, before a few of them laughed and stared at him, confused by the sudden clumsiness of the usually put-together boy.
“Adrien! Are you okay?”
Glancing up from his position on the dirty floor, Adrien nearly groaned out loud. Before him stood Marinette, offering him a hand in the same way she had the day before.
He offered a tight grin before grabbing her hand. “Thanks, Pr- er, Marinette.” She smiled, confusion passing her features for a moment before she brushed it off and sat back down.
Adrien sat down and immediately put his face in his hands and letting out an irritated sigh.
Nino laughed beside him. “Dude, are you alright?”
Adrien nodded, muttering something about how he didn’t get enough sleep last night, but all he could think about was the pink lip-gloss on Marinette’s lips and how she smelled of flowers and vanilla.
-*-*-*-
The next day, Adrien was prepared.
He had spent the entire night preparing himself, and talking sense into himself.
Marinette is your good friend. She did a good thing by saving Chat Noir. She is just a girl who you have known for years.
It seemed more he was trying to convince himself rather than anyone else.
Ignoring Plagg’s mocking, Adrien arrived to school before anyone else had gotten to class, making sure he would avoid the embarrassment of falling yet again.
However, in all of Adrien’s pre-emptive planning, he did not plan for what he would do when Marinette arrived to school with her hair down.
As she entered the class, she offered a smile to the teacher before beginning to walk past him to her seat.
He almost hoped she would walk straight past him and ignore his presence. Of course, however, she is Marinette, so she did not.
“Hey, Adrien! Good morning!”
The boy blinked up at her, just staring at her for a few moments. Marinette glanced behind her in confusion, before coughing awkwardly.
Adrien shook his head. “Oh! uh, good! Yeah!”
Marinette smiled softly, eyebrows still furrowed in confusion, before she proceeded to her seat. Adrien sighed and dropped his head onto his desk, ignoring Plagg’s snickers inside of his school bag.
As he sat there, thinking about how long her lashes are, and how sweet her voice sounds, he knew he was screwed.
Adrien would never be able to look at Marinette Dupain-Cheng the same ever again.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
I hope that you all enjoy and that this lives up to your expectations!
I’m considering making this a series or making more posts related to Ladybug, so please give your input!
This was entirely inspired by @princessamericachavez and her post about Marinette saving Chat Noir, as I had seen it on TikTok and everyone in the comments was looking for a fanfic inspired by the concept, so I made one! I hope you enjoyed and let me know what you think :)
-Erin
#marichat#adrinette#ladynoir#ladrien#miraculous#miraculous ladybug#chatnoir fanfic#marichat fanfic#marichat fanfiction#adrinette fanfic#adrinette fanfiction#ladynoir fanfic#ladynoir fanfiction#ladrien fanfic#ladrien fanfiction#miraculous fanfiction#miraculous fanfic#miraculous au#marichat au#miraculoustalesofladybugandcatnoir
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This is a bit of something that got in my way while I was working on the ML ballet AU. Turns out I still have a grain or two of Lila salt in me. Quickspinner’s Out of Your League (from the All That Remains collection) needs the credit for a bit of backstory that I had in mind here. And yes, this is Lukanette. Always.
Lila wasn’t above using her mother’s sense of guilt to her own advantage. She also had no problem with feeding that guilt. A few sighs and teary comments when her mother (yet again) had to cancel on Lila to deal with something at the embassy, or a subtle reminder about all the times Lila had been left on her own in their apartment was all grist to the mill, and Lila had to admit that it had paid off in a big way this time.
Her mother had pulled every string and favour at her disposal for Lila’s birthday party, and Jagged Stone himself was going to be putting in an appearance. Lila was jubilant.
She watched the ballroom at the embassy – how her mother had managed that one Lila didn’t know, and honestly didn’t care – filling up with her classmates and everyone she’d ever met, and she allowed herself a satisfied smile.
Of course, Marinette wasn’t there. Lila had had an enjoyable month of it, tormenting the goody-two-shoes over it, and the beautiful part was that no one had even caught a hint of what she was really doing. She hadn’t been so crass as to leave Marinette out of the party invitations, oh no! She had handed the girl a gilt-edged invite with her most charming, and insincere, smile as she made a point of telling Marinette how much she hoped that Marinette would be there. Their classmates had eaten it up with a spoon, falling all over Lila to tell her how generous and forgiving she was, given the way Marinette had been so hostile to her, and all the while Lila had smiled sweetly and watched Marinette twist in the trap.
If Marinette begged off the party, she was the bad guy for refusing Lila’s olive branch. If Marinette came, then Lila won, and she would get to watch Marinette swallow her pride and suffer all night, or crack and create drama. Either way, it was all good, and Lila had had fun making little digs and comments about the party in front of Marinette for the weeks leading up to it.
As Lila accepted everyone’s tributes and praise, greeting each new arrival with becoming diffidence and subtly trying to gauge the worth of each gift that they piled on the table at the entrance, she came to the conclusion that Marinette had decided not to put in an appearance. Her smile grew wider.
“Lila!” Alya had arrived, and swept her into a hug, surveying the ballroom, and the tables of food, with an impressed eye. Behind her, Nino grinned and bobbed his head in greeting. “Amazing party, girl. And I can’t believe you got Jagged Stone to come!”
Lila gave her a modest smile. “It’s all about who you know, and Jagged was more than happy to come when he heard it was for my birthday.” She looked around as if searching for something, and made her eyes wide and hopeful. “Did… did Marinette come with you?”
Alya shifted uncomfortably. “Er… Marinette couldn’t make it. But she asked me to wish you a happy birthday.”
Oh, no, she didn’t, Lila thought, suppressing the smirk that pulled at the corners of her mouth. Alya, you liar.
She forced her face into a sorrowful pout with just the right touch of hurt. “It’s okay. It would have been nice if we could put aside whatever this grudge is that Marinette has against me just for once, but I guess not…”
Alya and Nino smiled awkwardly. And then her mother touched her arm, a harried expression on her face as she drew Lila away out of earshot for a moment.
“Lila, sweetheart, there’s some bad news,” her mother said anxiously, and Lila felt her smile slip a little. “We’ve just had word that Jagged Stone had to cancel at the last minute.”
“What do you mean, Jagged Stone cancelled?” Lila almost shrieked. A few heads turned towards them, and Lila brought herself back under control before they could overhear. “Mama, you need to fix this. Get him back!”
“Sweetheart, I can’t. His agent said it was unavoidable, and they’re paying the late cancellation fine in the contract. At this late notice I can’t get anyone else to come instead.”
Lila let her eyes fill with tears – she’d practised tearing up in front of her mirror, but in this case the tears were very real.
“Mama,” she insisted, and the harried lines on her mother’s face deepened.
“You’ll still have a lovely party,” her mother said weakly. “The food is wonderful, and you still have the DJ for entertainment.”
“But I told everyone that Jagged Stone was coming!”
“I’m so sorry, darling.” Her head turned towards the doorway, where an aide was waving a phone at her. “I have to go take this call.”
The moment that her mother had turned away, Lila’s mouth pinched with anger and frustration, and she barely stopped herself from stamping her foot.
“Hey girl, is everything okay?”
She heard Alya’s voice call out to her, and she smoothed out her face, spinning around with artificial enthusiasm. Several of their classmates were clustered behind Alya, and she turned a smile on them as well.
“So,” Alya continued, “we’re all really excited! When’s Jagged getting here?”
Lila gave a moue of only slightly exaggerated disappointment.
“Can you believe it?” she sighed, one hand fluttering up to her chest. “Jagged had to cancel. It was last minute, and I’m so worried it’s because that awful throat condition of his has flared up again.” Her hand went to her mouth. “Oh no! You can’t tell anyone about it, no one is supposed to know, but that was why he couldn’t do the zoom call with the class last month like he’d promised.”
There was a ripple of sympathy and concern through her classmates, but then Alix made a sceptical noise at the back of the group.
“Throat condition? But you said it was sunspot interference with the internet connection.”
“No, I was trying to keep his throat problems secret-“
“It was Clara Nightingale you said had a serious throat condition, and that was why she had to cancel helping out with the charity auction like she’d told you,” Alix interrupted.
“No, that was Jagged-“
“If recall accurately,” Max spoke up, “and I do, Clara Nightingale had the throat condition. I could have Markov replay the conversation,” he added helpfully, and Lila spun around in dismay.
“No, that’s not-“
“There have been a lot of cancellations,” Alix said in growing suspicion. Lila could see the faces around her registering confusion, and there was a growing murmur as her classmates tallied things up. She had to stop this before they came to the realisation that…
“What about that interview you promised me with Ladybug?” Alya was asking her, her voice sharp. “The one that got cancelled because of an akuma, except I could never find anything about that akuma, and you never rescheduled. And that meeting that Nino was supposed to have with that director?”
Nino wasn’t saying anything, his face hidden by his cap as he stared at the floor. The muttering was growing louder now as more people were working things out and the number of promises mounted up.
“Oh my god,” Juleka mumbled behind the fall of her streaked black and purple hair. “He was right.”
“Who?” Rose asked, but Alix was talking again before Juleka could answer.
“You didn’t need to fib about Jagged Stone being here to get us to come to your party, Lila,” Alix said as the expressions turned to disgust and disbelief.
“But I didn’t!” Lila protested, and for once she had been telling the truth. “I swear, Jagged really was coming. You have to believe me!”
“I said it was a bit hinky that Jagged Stone would have agreed to play a teenage party like this,” Alix told the group around her.
“I’m not lying!” Lila insisted, her voice growing shrill as the expressions turned to disgust and disbelief. “He did a signing for Chloe.”
“Yeah, well, that’s Chloe, and the mayor himself roped him into that.”
“But my mother works for the embassy! And I saved his kitten!”
Again, Alix snorted, and Alya had her arms folded now, frowning.
“You know, I couldn’t find anything about that online, or about Jagged even having a kitten. The more I think about it, the more I wonder why I believed that in the first place.”
“You believed Marinette,” she couldn’t help the slight snarl at that name, “when she said she designed stuff for Jagged and he came to her house.”
“But she didn’t say that,” Nino pointed out. “We saw all of that for ourselves. But now I think about it, I haven’t seen anything that proves you’ve even met him.”
“But I have! He really was coming, and he was going to sing Happy Birthday to me! He just had to cancel.”
“Sure, Lila.”
After all the stories Lila had spun, and the lies and embellishments, how could it be the truth that they refused to believe? The group drifted away from her while Lila stared after them in open-mouthed shock. She was left in a spreading circle of isolation at her own party.
The only person who acknowledged her existence was the tall boy with the blue hair over near the buffet table. Lila frowned, trying to work out where she knew him from. He was older than her class, and the ripped jeans and scruffy hoodie were out of place among the smartly dressed guests, but he looked familiar, and what was he doing at her party anyway? He raised the vol au vent in his hand in an unsmiling salute.
Lila made her way over to him.
“Now, where do I know you from?” she asked with an attempt at coyness, in spite of the fury still seething through her at her classmates’ revolt. His expression didn’t change.
“We’ve met before. I’m Juleka’s brother, Luka.”
Juleka’s brother. Marinette. She had a sudden memory of the steps outside the school and an older boy with blue hair and a guitar slung over his back, coolly warning her about what would happen if she messed with Marinette or his sister. Her eyes narrowed.
He said, “I just wanted to say Happy Birthday, and I’m sorry to hear that Jagged fell through on you.”
“Jagged?” Lila sucked in a breath at that. “What do you know about Jagged Stone?”
“You underestimated Marinette,” the blue-haired boy said calmly. “It’s all about who you know, isn’t that what you said, Lila? It’s all about connections. Except Marinette’s are real.”
She let out a smothered shriek.
“Marinette did this! How could she-“
Luka was shaking his head. “Marinette didn’t do a thing. She’s been trying so hard to take the high road, and she’s not vindictive. I did warn you, though, what would happen if you threatened someone I care about again – just because I don’t want to play your kind of games doesn’t mean I can’t or won’t.”
“Then you turned them all against me! You-“
“I didn't even need to do that,” Luka said, and gave her an infuriatingly composed smile. “In the end, all I really needed to do was tell my dear old dad how you treated his favourite designer. I didn’t even have to bend the truth to do it, and the music just played from there.”
Lila’s mouth fell open. “Jagged Stone… is your father?!”
“Surprised the hell out of me, too,” Luka muttered, and finished the pastry he was holding. He dusted the crumbs off his hands.
“Connections,” Luka said, and shoved himself away from the table. “I have them too, and I’m more than willing to use them for Marinette’s sake. Thank you for the lovely party.”
He gave her a little wave and walked away, leaving her standing there in the ruins of her reputation.
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Okay so here is my question.
To preface, if you use this post as a jumping off point for Why The TMA Finale Was Bad, I'll probably block you. I enjoyed it immensely, it wildly exceeded my expectations, I don't care.
But TMA is the first time that I've flat out not really understood why people didn't like a thing I liked. Usually I can go "huh I see that but i disagree" but one aspect that repeatedly comes up that actually confuses me is:
"season five's transition to less metaphorical fears made it less effective."
Which is vaguely what I keep seeing, but I don't actually understand it, and I will try to explain why.
1. I feel like the *framing* of statements changed and got heightened, but the actual way fears manifested didn't change that much from previous seasons. I've heard it said that S5 was far more "real life" than the other seasons. I don't really understand this?
Literally part of what drew me to TMA was how the horror was rooted in realities I understood and had compassion for. I don't really see how the Flesh Garden is not a more souped up version of MAG090 "Body Builder." I don't see how the Stranger Caoursel of Lost Identity is not just the apocalypse evolution of what Breekon and Hope did to the original proprietor of their delivery service. The events of the horrible addiction puppet show feel like the thematic continuation of "Creature Feature." And every kind of lackluster Slaughter episode was the seed for the much more successful Trenches domain imo. Also I don't think there can be a more explicit "the Fears use out structures to hurt us" moment than Peter Lukas' ridiculous Ritual.
Like... "Recollection" is informed by "Cul-De-Sac" which is informed by "Lost in the Crowd." I see a pattern of things being more heightened, but I don't think the story was ever (to me, personally) "escapist horror."
1.a. Actually the idea that TMA was once "escapist horror" and then stopped being "escapist horror" at some point is one I'm also unsure of. What counts as escapism is reader/listener-self-selected, and I don't think its something the show can *decide* to be. What is escapism for you is not going to be for me, and I know from the experience of live listening to S5 that people ascribed "escapism" to different episodes than I did. And that's fine. My point is: that's personal lens, not something under authorial power.
2. The idea of "fear capitalism." I realize at some point that this went from being a joke to being a real argument people had. I think the gist of it is: The Fears Are An Analog For Capitalism In Its Various Forms. Which led to the idea that because the Web "won", that means Capitalism "won."
This very much confuses me because I think it's directly countered by canon? Capitalism did not create the Fears. The Fears, as they manifested and fractured into their vague categories, were born from humanity's fears. That's textually stated multiple times over the show and is doubled (tripled?) down on in the final statement in MAG200.
To me it feels clear that the Fears used structures of capitalism not because the Fears Are Spooky Capitalists, but because we, humanity, created capitalism and fed it until it became the prevailing structure of our lives, and so that's the way the Fears will get us.
Like, I think if the Fearpocalypse happened in a utopic anarcho-communist society, the Web sould still exist, but it would manifest in different ways. Ways that, frankly, you and I cannot understand because the philosophical idea that after we manage to institute a new societal order we will still be so scarred by the capitalist past that it will take two or three generations down the line for people to be able to think like true anarcho-communists, blah fucking blah philosophy drivel.
I guess my question here can be: do you think the Fears created Capitalism? Do you think in another societal system, the Fears would not exist? Perhaps different Fears would form. (I like to daydream about dumb shit like "what if the Geth from Mass Effect got The Fears, they would be totally different right")
But yeah I feel like the show is pretty clear that the Fears came from humanity and then found cozy spots in the structures of our society, but they did not invent those structures, we did. (like, is this not textually exactly how The Flesh formed?) And so I think "Fear capitalism" is a bit flip?
3. I guess for me, number three is: the show was obviously impacted by the pandemic. Season Five kicked off pretty much as lockdowns were going worldwide. They had to instate hiatuses, which were not in the original schedule plan, to make shit work.
And to me, it feels like the effect was two-pronged. First, a lot of the show's effects were heightened by the new state of the world. Things that were already written and recorded now had new resonance. Second, theoretically it's hard to speculate on did anything textually change because the pandemic, but we know that it must've from a production and acting standpoint at least. Whether things were textually changed, we don't know (yet).
I am, by my own repeated admission, someone who reacted well to TMA in the pandemic. It felt very much like a balm for me. I was listening to TMA while working front line retail, back when my job still hadn't supplied us with PPE, when we were going from store to store to spend 50$ on a box of 20 surgical masks, back when we used lysol to refresh our masks because we couldn't afford to throw them out.
For me, TMA kind of got me through that experience. I remember feeling almost ecstatic joy at season five, listening to episodes during my closing shifts. I realized this was not the Normal Reaction to S5 at MAG169 "Fire Escape" when I was LIVING and others were... not so much living. XD There were several points where it felt like I was the only one still having a good time.
My point here is, I think, that I wonder how much of the way S5 was taken, all the talk of how its more intense and heightened and "real" is more of an artefact of how the world rapidly, unexpectedly changed in 2020 as it was happening. It's like the grimdark inverse of Animal Crossing to me. No one involved could have dreamed of the situation to come, and the work was already pretty much planned and on rails, barring the last minute adjustments they managed to put in in response to the pandemic.
From where I'm sitting, being a weirdo who ate up S5 with a spoon, it feels like the pandemic made it harder for people to enjoy TMA, and I wonder if that's an under-served factor here.
I think that's all my thoughts right now.
#i am specifically not maintagging this bc i am trying to limit engagement#so be cautious if you reblog pls#tma //#tma negative //
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Omg could you do prompt 100 with Marichat!?
"Wouldn’t it be better to tell her even if the timing is wrong, than to never tell her at all?"
Tags: Romance, Hurt/Comfort, mild swearing, one-sided identity reveal
Relationship: Marichat (Marinette Dupaincheng/Chat Noir)
Word count: 1.945
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Chat Noir lived with his heart on his sleeve, baring his emotions that he couldn't always show as Adrien Agreste.
But this time, Chat Noir had concealed his heart, kept it in the protective clutches of his claws to hide from sight.
Especially from a certain blue-eyed friend of his.
Friend.
He swallowed, claws digging into his palms as he tried to breathe.
That's the word he'd tried burning into his brain ever since he started spending more time with Marinette, ever since they opened up to each-other about their broken hearts that one fateful night. How he saw sides of her he only caught glimpses of at school.
She'd started spending less time with him as Adrien, but had somehow acted...more friendly towards him at the same time. Her stuttering was gone around him now, she greeted him every morning, asked questions easily. He didn't seem to annoy her anymore.
Chat Noir had started becoming a steady presence in her life, from silly balcony karaoke and dances, to movie nights snuggled in respective blankets, popcorn flying when a scary scene appeared.
Of course, Marinette sometimes picked horror movies where poor black cats drew the shorter end of the stick, it was rare, 'to not traumatize him', she said. He enjoyed their time together all the same.
Friend.
The word he'd burned into his brain, but not his heart.
He'd tried getting advice from Ladybug, with whom he had a better friendship with, she was friendlier with him too, started indulging in his puns even more than before. But he got answers he already knew, deep in his heart.
'Tell her,' Ladybug had said, 'Your friend...this girl, she sounds amazing, she also sounds like she might have feelings for you too, Chat Noir.'
Chat Noir retrieved the good luck charm from his pocket, the one Marinette had given to Adrien a long time ago, running the tips of his claws carefully over the pearls and shapes.
He also remembered what he had told Ladybug too.
'I...I can't. She...she's in a relationship with this one boy...'
Ladybug had considered his options with this newfound information and her eyes looked like they tried to tell him a story her mouth couldn't. 'Wouldn't it be better to tell her even if the timing is wrong, than to never tell her at all?'
So, Chat Noir stood there, on a rooftop opposite of her balcony, the dim light from her room illuminating the small space outside.
Clutching his good luck charm against his chest, he safely stored it in his pocket before leaping off the roof, staff propelling him forward as high as his heart jumped in his throat.
Marinette had heard the telltale thud of Chat Noir's feet hitting her balcony, even if tried being as silent as possible.
She greeted him with a smile and a small wave, like she mostly did. Sometimes it was with a playfully annoyed frown, other times she would take the spray bottle in her hand when she was gardening and he was a little too close to a plant precariously positioned on the metal fence.
"Good evening, kitty," her smile seemed to be brighter than the light and it made the frantic hummingbird that was his heart beat even faster against his ribcage.
"Good evening, Marinette." He called her often by her name now, but the serious tone in his voice made her climb out of the hatch and close it, walking towards him with a worried frown.
"Is something wrong? Did something happen?"
He quickly shook his head, eyes downcast, staring at the silver toes of his boots.
He noticed how small her feet seemed compared to his, almost as small as Ladybug's when they stood side by side.
He sighed deeply, hands flexing. "There's something I have to say."
Marinette nodded slowly, unsure what exactly Chat Noir wanted to say. Did he come to seek her advice about the mystery girl he liked? Had her advice as Ladybug not been good enough? What else could she tell him? She felt it was right that he told the girl his feelings, even if...that girl wasn't her.
Chat Noir deserved to be happy, even if it wasn't with her.
And then, finally, the secret that made her heart squeeze fell from his lips, but her heart squeezed in a different way, "I like you, Marinette."
Bright green eyes seemed so scared, so raw and vulnerable it made her want to hug him and never let go.
Her brain finally caught up to the exact words he said and she froze.
'You'
He said 'you'.
Not 'her'. Not "the girl I like". He said 'you', as in her, Marinette.
"Was he talking about me all this time? Was I the one he asked Ladybug's advice for?" Marinette's mind was running a mile a minute, not seeing the crestfallen look on her crushes face.
Chat Noir spoke softly as his heart was slowly breaking, "I liked you for a while now Marinette, but I understand you don't feel the same. I just...I wanted to tell you, I guess, a good friend of mine said it was only right I told you even if...the timing is off." He stared down at his feet, cat ears flattened to his head.
His voice cracked, "I..." he cleared his throat, green eyes bright with unshed tears, "I just...wanted to tell you, and- you don't have to," he sucked in a sharp breath, his chest hurt, it hurt worse than the time he used Cataclysm on himself, "You don't have to say anything. I know." Chat Noir looked off to the side, a hint of bitterness mixing into the sadness. "I know about the boy you're...together with, so, um, I don't want to stand in the way of that. Don't worry."
His eyes darted this way and that, missing the way her elated face morphed into confusion.
"Wait, Chat Noir, what boy-" Marinette's mind was still stuck on the 'I like you' part, too stunned and happy to react quick enough.
Before she could continue, he scratched the back of his head and turned his back to her, shifting his weight on the balls of his feet. "I think I uh, his name's Luka? Or Luke? Something like that. Um, anyway, I-" his voice cracked again and Chat Noir felt the first hot tears hit his cheeks, "I wish you all the happiness in the world, Marinette."
"Wait, Chat Noir, you have it all wrong. I don't like Luka, I like-!" before the last words could leave her lips, Chat Noir was already gone, jumping onto the next roof, ears ringing too much from the sound of the blood rushing in his ears.
The tears sliding down his face made the city a big blur, lights as smudged as the shimmering stars. "You deserve to be happy, even if it's not with me." his heart sank even lower with those words and he picked up speed to mend his broken heart.
-------
"-you..." Marinette whispered into the night, her heart as broken as the boy's who left her there.
Tikki emerged from the protection of her room, quickly flying up to her friend's face. "Marinette! Are you alright? I can't believe Chat Noir felt the same! But he left before he could hear your answer, didn't he?"
The sullen bluebell eyes suddenly hardened in resolve, "No, he didn't."
Tikki's mouth fell open in confusion, "What? But- but I heard-"
"Tikki, spots on!"
"M-Marinette, what are you doing?!" Her kwami got sucked into her earrings and in a flash, Ladybug stood in Marinette's place.
Red rimmed eyes stared after Chat Noir in determination, hand clenching into a fist around her yoyo.
Finally, the simmering ire in the pit of her stomach turned into fiery rage. "You stupid cat!"
With one strong leap, Ladybug was in the air, the string of her yoyo already catching a lamp post. Her arms burned at the intensity she used to propel herself forward, to match Chat Noir's speed. "I won't let you just leave like that!"
Building after building Ladybug jumped and ran over, eyes darting every which way to try and spot sight of her wayward partner.
The sun had set, it was already dark, his suit would be difficult to spot, Ladybug could only hope she could spot his blonde hair if he was still in the area.
'Damn it! Where could he have gone so quickly? This is why I always grab his tail, he would rush head first into danger like this too! I always managed to grab his tail, but why not now? Why didn't I move!?' All these thoughts swam through her head, eyes constantly darting around to spot Chat Noir.
Where would he go? Would he go home? Would he go somewhere to be alone? But where?
Ladybug picked up speed and finally reached the Eiffel Tower, but no sight of the cat.
The Louvre was empty as well.
Where else could he be?
Ladybug wracked her brain for any more places they visited often, anything that could give a hint that wasn't his home.
The park.
Marinette kicked herself for not thinking of it sooner, the park near her school. They often went there for ice-cream.
And sure enough, when she landed back on the ground in front of the park, Chat Noir was there.
Sitting with his back bowed, shoulders slumped, she could hear him sniffling and sobbing.
Her heart cried out even more at the sounds, "Chat Noir!"
He jumped up with a jolt, hands almost immediately moving up to frantically rub away his tears. "L-Ladybug?!" His voice sounded hoarse, thick with emotion.
Ladybug crossed the distance in several long strides, grabbing the hands that tried to hide his face from her.
She peered in between the gaps his fingers left and felt her own eyes grow misty at his puffy red ones. "Kitty..."
"H-How did you- why are you-" his eyes kept darting everywhere but at her.
Ladybug pried his hands away with a bit of force and tenderly cradled his face, green eyes staring wide eyed back at her. "M'lady-"
"Spots off!" The command made Chat Noir still, eyes trying to slide shut but still catching a glimpse of the PJ's Marinette was wearing only a few minutes ago.
"W-Wait, Mari-"
"You impatient cat!" the words left her lips in a hurry, at the speed she couldn't muster before, "Why couldn't you wait before I finished talking?! Why couldn't you wait for my answer Chat Noir?"
He didn't understand why Marinette was crying, he didn't understand why Ladybug transformed back and Marinette stood in her place. Had she been Ladybug this whole time? Had he been asking advice from his former crush turned friend for his former friend turned crush?
"Chat Noir!"
"S-Sorry! I'm here!" he clamped his mouth back shut after squeaking out his reply, eyes fixated on Marinette, who was red faced and angry.
"I said I like you back!"
"Wh-" and suddenly, her face was too close to his, his ears were ringing, his broken heart was slowly pulling itself together.
Marinette stopped, eyes reading his expression, before she softly kissed his cheek and hugged him tightly to her. "I like you." She repeated herself, "I like you, kitty." and again, and again.
She repeated herself until she felt arms slowly wrap around her back, one hand cradling her head, his whole body shaking.
"I like you."
Chat Noir let the tears fall, soaking into her PJ's but his lips were stretched into a wide smile.
"I like you too, Marinette."
Thanks for reading! :3
#miraculous ladybug#ml#adrien agreste#chat noir#marinette dupaincheng#marichat#one sided identity reveal#identity reveal#identity reveals#miraculous#my fic#my fics#god damn here i go again breaking my own heart#ask#anon#ml request#ml fanfic
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Damn, You Look Happy Now
It's angst week for the @lovebugs-and-snakecharmers Sprint Fic Challenge!
The rules are three 15-minute sprints with 24 hours for light editing, which includes new writing to smooth transitions or make it feel complete. I ended up with four sprints and added around 1,000 words on this one because... I mean, feels are really hard.
The prompt I used this time around was: "It's okay, I'm used to it."
And that combined in my head with Heart Shut by Alex Hall feat. Tenille Townes which I heard the day after watching the episode and I couldn't help but think of these two.
Summary: Luka's looking forward to a quiet performance in a small local bar until Marinette walks in leading Adrien by the hand. And she looks so happy. Luka just needs to pretend it's not absolutely killing him.
Warnings: S4/E1: Truth Spoilers, non-consensual kissing, drinking
Read on Ao3
Luka glanced out over the crowd, idly picking at his guitar. After years of touring with Jagged, it was nice to play the background music for a quiet place like this. Although he had to admit the crowd was probably larger than normal for the small local bar.
He frowned unconsciously as his fingers started to find all-too-familiar notes, and his crowd-searching became more focused, intent on finding her. And find her he did. Worming her way to the tables in front of the stage, leading a bewildered, laughing Adrien by the hand. Her melody bubbled up to him over the hum of the crowd. It had changed. When they were teenagers it had been dragged down by confusion, longing, and responsibility. His fingers tripped over the strings lightly, every playful note confirming the happiness she’d found.
Adrien took Marinette’s coat and draped it across the back of her chair before helping her into it. She rolled her eyes when he pressed a kiss to the back of her knuckles and he smirked back before disappearing, presumably to order their drinks. The ease between them was obvious. He could only assume—well, admittedly he’d never asked. But in the limited contact they kept up, she’d never mentioned the new development, either.
She waved shyly at him up on the stage and he set his face in a smile and nodded back. She’d cut her hair. It was cropped close to her neck now, but she’d kept the bangs he remembered. As their eyes were linked, she reached up to worry at a pigtail that wasn’t there, asking him with her eyes if he liked it. Despite himself, his smile warmed as he nodded again. He really did. She looked so happy now, especially when Adrien returned to sit next to her and draped his arm across the back of her seat casually.
He tried—he really did—to focus on his performance, but it was honestly the worst of his life. His eyes kept drifting over to her, often catching her leaning her head close to Adrien’s to talk. Adrien subtly kept her drink full all night, until she was hiding giggles behind her hands and leaning amiably against his shoulder. Every once in a while she’d catch Luka watching her and sober instantly, straightening up to twist her fingers on the table instead, biting her lips and shooting furtive glances his way.
But Adrien would say something in her ear and make her smile again.
The end of his set was an immense relief. He planned on disappearing out back until they left. Not that he didn’t want to talk to her, he just… couldn’t. So he slipped his guitar off and set it aside before he slid quietly out the door marked ‘Employees Only.’
Instantly, he wrapped his arms around himself, regretting not grabbing his leather jacket. It was snowing, and already a thin layer was frosting the cobblestones of the alley he was standing in. There was one other person out there, on a smoke break, but they took one look at Luka and took a last puff before crushing it out and going back inside. The stale cigarette smoke hung around him and mixed with the smell of the dumpster and the crisp winter air. It didn’t help calm his twisting stomach. But he took deep breaths anyways, focusing more on the snowflakes landing on his hot skin, melting away to nothing like he desperately wished he could right now.
He heard the door beside him open and he didn’t even need to look to know she’d followed him. That haunting melody was already in his head and he took one more steadying breath, preparing to tell her he was happy for her as he turned to face her.
She was clutching her coat around her tightly, peeking up at him from behind snow-laden eyelashes. For a moment, neither of them spoke, letting the silence of the snow falling around them stretch to the point of breaking. He shook off the chill that was beginning to seep into his chest and shoved his hands in his pockets.
“You look good,” he started, “happy, I mean.”
“I am,” she murmured back, but there was a strange twinge to her tone. “Um, I wanted to tell you—”
“Marinette, you don’t have to.” He cut her off before the words he didn’t want to hear passed her lips. He wasn’t expecting the childish pout that scrunched her face.
“I do, though,” she insisted, “It’s why we came here tonight, to watch you play, and so I could see you again and tell you—” She took a sharp breath in and held it, biting her lip again. It was only then that Luka noticed the glassy sheen of her eyes and her reddened cheeks that had nothing to do with the cold. He counted in his head how many drinks she must’ve had over the course of the evening. Not enough to not remember, but definitely enough to not be in control.
“You’ve been drinking, Marinette,” he said gently. “You should go back inside. I’m sure Adrien’s looking for you.”
“He’ll wait.” She hiccuped and giggled. “But first I have to tell you something.”
“You can call me tomorrow when you’re sober.” He didn’t mean to be so short with her, but the image of her going home with Adrien hit him harder than he thought it would. He started to reach around her to open the door she was still standing in front of and usher her back through, but she grabbed a fistful of his shirt and tugged him down to her.
As she pressed her lips against his, his body reacted first out of habit. Too many years of crazed fans forgetting he was a person and not a sex symbol. His hands peeled hers off him gently and he took a step back. Except this was Marinette and it tore at something inside him to tear himself away from her.
When he blinked back to the cold reality standing in front of him, he licked his lips unconsciously before daring to look at her again. She was mostly stunned, her eyes blown wide and her lips still slightly parted.
“Oh my God, Luka, I’m so sorry. I just—”
“It’s okay,” he managed to choke out. Not that it was, but it was what came out of his mouth. He cleared his throat to try to speak past the lump that had formed. “I’m… used to it.”
Just not from you, his mind supplied helpfully. He was still holding her wrists and for some reason his thumb moved on its own, rubbing against her delicate skin, but he wasn’t sure if he was reassuring her or himself.
“That... was the stupidest thing I’ve ever done. God, I’m so embarrassed.” She tried to hide her face in her hands, but ended up pressing her forehead against his chest instead, muttering about being a disaster.
He only resisted the urge to fold her into his arms because he could smell Adrien’s cologne lingering in her hair. Instead he cleared his throat again.
“Marinette, does Adrien know you’re out here with me?”
She looked up at him and scrunched up her face again, in confusion this time instead of defiance. “Of course he does. He’s the reason I’m out here with you. Mangy cat practically shoved me out the door.”
...What? He blinked at her, uncomprehending, and she sighed as she snuggled into him which was not helping his ability to process anything. He dropped her wrists and grabbed her by the shoulders instead, stabilizing her as he pulled her off him.
“You’re gonna have to help me out, here. You’re here with Adrien, right?”
“Well, yeah, I’m here with Adrien.” She rolled her eyes at him, but then when she caught sight of his serious expression, she seemed to realize something. “Oh, you think—No! No, I’m not—I’m here with Adrien, but I’m not here with Adrien, he’s—we’re—oh, it’s a long story, and that’s why I wanted to tell you, but it’s all wrong and now you think—and I—Luka, I didn’t mean to kiss you like that, I’m so sorry, you must think I’m awful and—”
He took a deep breath and sorted through her ramblings. With Adrien, but not with Adrien. His head was spinning. Adrien was the reason she was out here. She wanted to tell him something. None of it was really adding up, and yet at the same time it was.
“What were you going to tell me earlier?” he asked, doing his best to keep his voice even.
“Under the moon, deep within the woods…” she muttered under her breath, then hiccuped again. The faded memory of a failed date rushed back to him and whatever breath he had left him. She was twisting her fingers into the front of his shirt, seeming very interested in her shoes until she let out a short huff of breath and finally met his eyes again. “I wanted to tell you my secret, Luka, now that it’s all over. And I wanted to tell you…” She blinked up at him with those wide eyes and bit her lip again. This time, he waited for the end of her thought. She closed her eyes and took a long, deep breath in and let it out slowly. When she opened them again, they were clear, as blue as he remembered, and starting to brim with tears.
“I never stopped loving you,” she murmured. “It—the timing, was just—” Another short huff of breath and she wiped at her cheeks. Impatient with herself, it seemed, for not knowing which words to use. But then she drew herself up and the look in her eye became steely.
Every Parisian knew that look. Luka blinked just to make sure he wasn’t seeing things, but it was definitely still Marinette in front of him and not Ladybug. But. She’d said it was all over. Hawkmoth’s defeat—he’d been in America at the time, but the news had done a small segment on it. Her secret. The realization crashed into him at about the same time the words left her mouth.
Without being aware of it, his hand drifted to his wallet in his back pocket and he easily withdrew the signed guitar pick necklace she’d given him. It felt like a lifetime ago. For a moment he let it hang between them, then let the cord slip through his fingers and into her cupped hands.
“I can’t believe you kept it,” she said softly.
She picked it up to look at it, no doubt noticing the wear on it. When he was writing songs on the road, or nervous before a show, or just thinking of her and wishing things had gone differently, he’d take it out and rub his thumb over the smooth plastic. The design on one side was nearly worn off from it.
“My lucky charm,” he murmured. Her eyes bounced back up to his as a genuine blush rose on her cheeks.
A shiver wracked through him as the new information and the cold caught up to him. Marinette’s expression instantly shifted to concern. “You must be freezing! We’ll go back inside and—”
As she turned away to open the door he spun her back to him and leaned down to press his lips against hers this time. She let out a muffled gasp of surprise, then wrapped her arms around his neck to hold him to her, angling her head to kiss him better.
When he pulled away—entirely too soon in his opinion, but it was hard to kiss her the way he wanted with chattering teeth—he pressed his forehead against hers fondly. She giggled and ran a hand through his hair, brushing out stray snowflakes that hadn’t melted away yet.
“You know, it was actually Adrien who told me you were here tonight,” she admitted shyly.
“Remind me to buy Chat Noir a drink,” he muttered, and she laughed again and took his hand, lacing their fingers together as she did to lead him back inside.
#miraculous ladybug#ml fic#mlb fic#lukanette#Pro LukaMari#lukanette endgame#endgame lukanette#luka couffaine#marinette dupain cheng#adrien agreste#lbsc sprint fic challenge#panda sprints
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Sprint Challenge: 3.31.21
I am aware this is a day late but it's finally done!
"Dude, how did you mess this up?!"
"I did everything you told me to!"
"Bro, obviously not! Now we have a sleeping beauty who didn't consent nor a way to wake her up! Our grades are gone and maybe our magical career period! We don't even know if she's a witch or a human!" Nino's voice rose with his stress to a higher pitch, hands clutching his short curls, his hat long forgotten on the floor when he first entered the room.
"I know this Nino!"
"Adrien. Dude, bro I need you to think very carefully and tell me what you used for this potion."
"I don’t remember the exact order but I wrote down most of it on this paper. I used all the ingredients listed, like you told me to." The blonde pulled the page from his spell journal where it was tucked and passed it over for observation.
"Okay well half of these would kill a human, vampire or any type of sea related being. So she's magical somehow at least."
“Because that makes me feel better…” The wind based wizard muttered.
“It should! It means she’s sleeping and not dead, you dummy!” The childish insult slipped out before he could help it and the blonde drew back as if he’d been slapped.
“I’m the dummy? You’re not much better if you can’t reverse the spell you gave me!” Adrien snapped, moving from his seated position to start pacing as the stress was finally hitting him. Even Plagg, his familiar, seemed to be judging his newest failure.
“Dude, chillax. I promise we can fix this, it’s just going to take some time… Hopefully no one puts up a missing poster.” The Earth affiliated wizard-to-be moved from the couch where the young woman slept and started to pull together the ingredients used.
“Nino! Seriously?!”
“Adrien, I got you. It will be fine, now I need your help to recreate this potion so I can figure out a reverse or cure depending on its… Potency.”
Adrien grumbled but made his way over to the workbench, picking up Plagg from the back of the couch on his way. Using the hand written instructions they measured out the ingredients and consulted other books on the different effects mixing the ingredients would have. In the midst of their research a knock sounded at the door. Nino left his blonde friend to answer the door. Pulling the heavy oak open revealed another teen slightly taller and muscular, his hair was a contrast to his dark robes being black faded to teal tips. His hand were raised and empty to show he was non-threatening.
"Hi, I have a somewhat awkward question but I'm looking for someone and hoping you may have seen her? On the petite side, blue black hair in pigtails and wears a ladybug cloak?"
"Sorry can't say that we have, what's her name? We can keep a look out for you."
"That'd be great." The stranger smiled.
"Hey I found something that could help." Adrien piped up from the work table, drawing the other males attention inward.
"Oh thank God you brought her inside."
Now they were both concerned and eyeing the newcomer with suspicion. Between the two, being an air and earth affinity that knew each other from boyhood, they had countless hours of spellcasting and mock fighting techniques that were being geared up to use against this stranger.
“Ah, that didn’t come out right. Her name is Marinette and her familiar Tikki has been looking for her all day. Usually she’s too busy taking care of everyone else that she forgets herself and well, falls into a mild coma to recover. I don’t think I’ve ever seen her fall asleep this deeply though....”
“So uh, my dude…” Nino carefully spoke, shifting slightly so his wand was easier to reach.
“Luka, you might know Juleka? She’s my little sister.”
“Oh, we have potions class together! Juleka never said anything about a brother though.”
“We’re always around each other so no need to miss or talk about each other. So where did you find Sleeping Beauty? Last I knew she was sketching for Mendelvie’s class.”
“Uh, well…” Adrien shared a look with his best friend and decided to come clean with a sheepish countenance. “Funny story, I was making a potion for class and found the last ingredient I needed near where Marinette was sketching… She asked for something to drink and I gave her the wrong jar…”
"Well whatever you put in it definitely worked to get her to sleep but she's not under a sleeping spell. This is for Bustier's test right?" Nino nodded and let Luka in the room, closing the door behind him. "So the version she wants you to make is the hardest version out there and almost no one can make it. Which is the point, it's a test to your abilities to see what your second affinity could be or help pick a specialization. May I see the ingredient list?"
"Sure. So what year are you?" Nino shuffled the ingredients list over and went back to the Wildflowers of the Forest tome to compare.
"Third year, my apprenticeship starts soon." Luka glanced over the ingredients list and paused noticeably, scanning the ingredients on the table. "Are these the exact ingredients you used? Everything looks and smells the same?"
"Yeah, everything's here." Adrien double checked each jar and sprig, only hesitating on the belladonna blossoms. "I used pink ones instead of the purple."
"You sir, are a very lucky accidental genius." The older wizard sighed and the tension seemed to finally melt away. "Your mix up saved her life and created a sleep tonic. Marinette is half Naga and that much belladonna apparently helps her sleep because she has venom sacs that are potent enough to absorb the deadly part."
"We don't need to tell Ms. Bustier do we?" The wind wizard asked nervously.
"Probably, there are other Naga students and I know several other reptile species that could benefit from it. Also incase of a sneak attack the chance to study cures would be invaluable." Luka clapped a gentle hand on each of their shoulders before moving to pick up the still sleeping student. As Marinette yawned she exposed her fangs that were bared as a defense while in her sleeping state, her tongue flickering along Luka's jaw to bury her face in his crook of his shoulder.
"That's kind of creepy but cool…" Nino remarked, starting to clear up the research mess.
"It helps that she knows me, Nagas much like their snake counterparts can taste the air to smell."
"Oh my Gods, Adrien dude! You should totally get with Kagami!"
"What?" The blond was looking at the other like he was crazy with his outburst.
"She's a Naga, they taste air, yanno wind? The only thing that's between your ears?"
"Did you just-" Adrien turned towards Luka who politely coughed carefully to hide his laugh and not wake up the still slumbering girl. "Did he just call me an airhead?!"
"Well I'll leave you to it, let me know if you need anything. Jules knows how to find me." With that parting remark he left the squabbling younger wizards to clean up and compile a report for their grade. With a quick glance around, the wizard opened a secret passageway and took it as a shortcut to near where Marinette's rooms were.
"Mm, my mate… warm and safe, good mate…" Marinette murmured in her sleep and it took everything in Luka to not drop the sleeping girl like she just dropped that bombshell. That was something to unpack at a much later date and when the mixed Naga was awake.
#lukanette endgame#lukanette#luka couffaine#marinette dupain cheng#fen's plunny corner#marinette dupain-cheng#miraculous ladybug#lovebugs and snake charmers#fantasy au
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Come Home With Me
For @adrienaugust Day 3: Umbrella
Summary:
“Adrien,” Plagg said softly, “It’ll rain soon.”
“Let it.”
His voice was vicious. Desperate.
He wanted to go home. But he really, really didn’t want to go back.
The rain started hitting his face harshly, punishment for his indecision. Adrien wanted to curl up in his bed and cry, but he didn’t want to ever see his too-white, too-big room again.
“Adrien?”
His eyes snapped open, focusing past the blur of water to the person who had spoken.
“Marinette?”
Or, Adrien finds himself alone in the rain, trying to find home, and Marinette lends him her umbrella.
Word Count: 1397
Relationship: Adrien & Marinette (Platonic, but can be interpreted differently), Adrien & Plagg
Warnings: Implied/Refrenced Emotional Abuse
Read here or under the cut
---
“You’re gonna catch a cold out here, kit.”
Adrien’s lips pulled into a bittersweet smile, “I think that’s the least of our worries.”
Plagg sighed, hovering just above his shoulder, “At least transform into Chat Noir.”
Adrien shook his head, “You’re tired, and I’m running out of cheese.”
Plagg sighed, and didn’t say, then maybe we should go back.
Adrien’s never going back to that manor. Father could try dragging him kicking and screaming, but he was never going back.
(He had said that before. So many times.)
The wind picked up, the chill of late October stinging against Adrien’s exposed skin. He was underdressed and overwhelmed, with nothing but his school bag and his phone. His calls to Nino and Chloe had both fallen through, the reception bad because of course his luck ran that way. Adrien truly did feel alone.
Alone, but away from that wretched house.
He closed his eyes, leaning his head back against the park bench. At least he was free here.
(A terrible, nagging part of his mind that sounded so much like Father told him, you’ll go back eventually, he’s your dad, you’ll forgive him like you always do .
That part of his mind, cold and quiet, called this little stunt for what it was - a childish tantrum.)
Tears stung at his eyes.
“Adrien,” Plagg said softly, “It’ll rain soon.”
“Let it.”
His voice was vicious. Desperate.
He wanted to go home.
Plagg said nothing, finally realising that Adrien was serious about staying out. He settled onto Adrien’s shoulder, a comforting weight. He didn’t try to talk Adrien out of this stupid bit of rebellion, but he didn’t encourage him either.
Plagg always gave him space to figure things out for himself.
He appreciated that, but after a life of being told what to do, Adrien wasn’t sure how to figure things out.
The first droplets of rain are kind, a gentle warning. Adrien refused to budge. His heart hammered against his ribs, a steady rhythm that only picked up with the downpour.
Go back, Adrien tried to tell himself. Back to the manor, where it was cold but at least not drenched. Back to Father, who would hug him and say never leave me and it would be more suffocating than comforting. Back to his life, as Adrien Agreste, the perfect little model.
But he really, really didn’t want to go back.
The rain started hitting his face harshly, punishment for his indecision. Adrien wanted to curl up in his bed and cry, but he didn’t want to ever see his too-white, too-big room again.
“Adrien?”
His eyes snapped open, focusing past the blur of water to the person who had spoken.
“Marinette?”
She shifted her umbrella awkwardly, “Uh, hi. You’re wet - no, I mean, er - getting wet - “ she trailed off.
Adrien smiled fondly, “Yeah. What are you doing out here?”
“I was running an errand for my parents,” Marinette managed to say, with minimal stammering, “You?”
Her eyes were wide and concerned and warm against the autumn wind.
Though he counted Marinette as a friend, he couldn’t say they were close. He didn’t know how much to tell her, if anything at all. Had he been behind his mask, he wouldn’t have hesitated at all, but he never knew where Adrien stood with her.
Still, Marinette was dear to him, and always had a habit of showing up when he needed her most.
“I’m not sure what I’m doing here,” Adrien admitted quietly, “Or what I’m doing at all,” he scoffed, "Or where to go."
“Come home with me,” Marinette said boldly. Then, "Not - not home WITH me - I meant - come to my house - the bakery that is - at least, it’s out of the rain - and it’s close - "
She trailed off, smiling nervously, angling her umbrella so that it was covering him.
He couldn’t really say no. And the thought of macarons were always enticing.
“Thank you, Marinette,” Adrien said, “I promise to be out of your hair as soon as the rain clears.”
“Don’t be silly, you can stay forever - um, as long as you like, I mean.”
The bakery was much closer than Adrien had thought. Stepping into its warmth, Adrien was hit with the aroma of freshly baked pastries, which made him instantly hungry.
“My parents aren’t in,” Marinette said as she left the umbrella by the door, “Do you want something to eat?”
Everything, “Sure.”
“I’ll get you a towel too.”
Marinette got them so much tooth-rotting sugary goods that Father would flip if he saw them, which only made Adrien devour them with glee. Marinette giggled when Adrien got cream on his nose and tried to lick it off, completely forgetting he didn’t have Chat’s tongue right now.
They sat by the window, the steady pitter-patter soothing the last of Marinette’s nerves - enough for her to crack a pun about pastries, one that Adrien had to use next time around Ladybug. She laughed when he shared the story about the time he and Chloe had eaten enough sweets to make them sick, and he gasped at her story about how her dad invented a new kind of muffin recipe.
By the time they were finishing off the last macaron, Adrien had forgotten all his previous worries.
It all came crashing back however, when Marinette said, “I noticed your dad didn’t sign the form today. For the trip to Nice.”
Adrien flinched, “No, he didn’t.”
“How come?”
She was more curious than judgemental, which was why Adrien felt comfortable enough to confess, “I think he’s punishing me.”
Marinette drew back, “What? Why?”
“I messed up a photoshoot the other day. There was an akuma attack and I had to … go hide - I guess it’s not really an excuse - but - “
Marinette slammed down the glass she’d been drinking from, “That is SO unfair!”
Adrien shrugged, “It’s nothing new. He might just be being protective, I don’t know. Though … I sort of decided to not go back home today, because of it,” he laughed, “Overdramatic, I know.”
“He’s the one being overdramatic!” Marinette frowned, “Does Nino and Chloe know? I’m telling them, we’re kidnapping you. I’ll tell Alya too, she’ll tell the whole class,” she paused at her phone, “Should I tell Kagami and Luka? They’re not even on the trip …”
Adrien felt his insides warm. Hearing their names out loud … he sometimes forgot how many people he had, that cared for him.
Had he really been worrying over where home was, when he had already known?
“Marinette,” he said softly, “It’s okay. Thank you.”
“It’s not okay,” she pouted, but relented by putting her phone down.
“I know he loves me,” Adrien sighed, “I just wish he’d show it more.”
“Oh Adrien,” she reached over, covering his hand with hers, “I’m so sorry you have to go through that.”
“Yeah,” Adrien smiled, “Thank you.”
“You can stay here tonight if you like.”
Outside, the rain had slowed to a drizzle.
“It’s okay,” he said softly, “I think I’m okay now.”
Marinette didn’t seem to be pleased, but she didn’t push it, “At least take the umbrella with you.”
“I couldn’t - "
“It’s yours,” she blushed, “You - uh - gave it to me. First day of school.”
“Oh,” he grinned, “You kept it.”
“I forgot to give it back,” she softened, “Anyway, I think you need it more than me. For the next time it rains.”
Adrien gulped, blinking back the stinging in his eyes. He cleared his throat gently, “Um, before I go. This might sound weird, but do you have any cheese?”
Marinette laughed, “I do, actually! I keep it around for ... stray cats.”
It took Adrien a moment to realise she was talking about Chat Noir.
“You’re an amazing friend, you know that?” Adrien blurted out.
Marinette grinned, “I’ve been told. And you are too, don’t you forget it!”
Outside, holding plenty of cheese and pastries and one well-used umbrella, Plagg peeked out of Adrien’s jacket.
“Feeling better?” he asked.
“Yeah.”
Plagg snorted, “Then let’s go home. Your dad’s worried.”
“I doubt Father even noticed.”
“Other dad.”
Adrien had no idea what Plagg was talking about until he checked his phone, only to be bombarded with seventeen worried messages from the Gorilla.
“I’m in trouble, huh?”
Plagg only laughed.
Adrien grinned back, looking up at the sky. The rain had come to a stop now, leaving the skies grey, but the world clearer.
---
Author's Note: When I tell you this fic refused to cooperate with me, I mean that I had 5 stories in my head and came up with the 6th this morning. At least I had fun writing the rain as a metaphor!
Platonic Adrinette is an under-used gem, they are such a wholesome duo. The ship is fine, but nothing beats friendship <3
Also, on Gabriel - I don't doubt that he cares about Adrien, but sometimes caring isn't enough. In this case, it DEFINITELY isn't enough.
#adrienaugreste#adrienaugust#adrien#marinette#plagg#friendship#hurt/comfort#angst with a happy ending#miraculous ladybug#ml#mlb#mlb fanfic#ao3 fanfic#fanfiction#platonic adrinette
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I really liked @doodledrawsthings’s A Hat in Time “Coffee Shop AU” idea… but also got me to thinkin. What if Vanessa’s poison was rather more immediate, so she had time to gloat, and so poor Luka had to deal with the idea of coming home to Harriet as a big snakeghost… who won’t recognize him at all?
--
“I’m not here to talk about custody.” Vanessa says, her smile angelic, perfect. She flicks a strand of hair from her shoulder, just to complete the illusion of the person Luka thought she’d been.
Luka’s emptied cup hits the saucer with a clatter. His nerves, which were screaming at him the whole time, rise to a fever pitch. He sharply stands, his stomach rolling, his hands hitting the table with the clatter of cutlery - but if anything, Vanessa’s smile only widens at the show of frustration. “...If this isn’t about custody, then what is this about?”
Vanessa laughs even as Luka’s stomach winds knots like dancing snakes, even as he bends double with the roiling pain of it. She laughs even as he hit the floor, his arm coming up to grip the tablecloth for support - and failing, his nerves turning to jelly, his muscles screaming as if melting under an acid kiss. “Oh, Luka. You should really know better by now. I’m here for revenge.”
From his vantage point on the floor, Luka gets a good view of the tableware as it comes crashing down around him. Forks and knives twirling like dangerous silver dancers around his spinning head, the graceful fall of a teapot in slow motion… but it is his own cup that, rolling to a stop near his arm, that draws his attention. In the tea, he sees the same purple, the same stain that is creeping down his arm - the purple of night, of pouring ink, of scribbled over legal documents and things gone wrong. Luka is aware, painfully aware, that he may be dying.
“What,” he rasps, aware of the spasming of his own arms, of the distant sound of his shirt tearing. His entire body was nothing but a ball of fire and nerves, somehow nebulous, but growing longer all the time, growing larger. “Have you done to me, Vanessa?”
In response, Vanessa stands - perhaps was always standing. Luka doesn’t know. His sense of time, of continuity, is near shattered. But he sees her perfect pink shoes, ribboned and sweet, as she walks over, and deftly kicks the cup away.
“I never wanted the child, you know.” Vanessa says, her voice full of spite. “You should have known that. I just wanted to make you suffer - to remind you whose you were.”
Luka tries to speak, tried to form the words to tell her just how awful she was, just how awful she still is. But the only sound that comes out is a soft gurgling, a pained wheeze. It’s like trying to breathe through a straw. His hands come to his neck and he feels them - large and clumsy, clawed and fumbling, two fingered, inhuman.
“You know? I don’t think you’ll be winning custody now.” Vanessa says, her voice sweet and pleasant. As pleasant as when she cut his hair while he was sleeping. As pleasant as when she told him to choose between her and Harriet. As pleasant as when she told him to stop talking to his tutor at law school. “No one would give a child to a monster like you.”
“You’re the monster!” Luka manages to spit, coughing up something black, something wretched onto the carpet. He forces his gaze upwards and yes, Vanessa’s glaring at him, glaring, but smoothing her face quickly, tightening it into a smile just like always…
“You think so?” She says, with a little chuckle, reaching into her pocket to pull out a silvered hand mirror, no bigger than her palm. It shows very little. But what it reflects nearly stops Luka’s heart.
Glimpses of black, of yellow eyes like a lantern, of fangs lit by an endless glow set above a gaping maw. He’ll never work at a law firm again - he’ll never fit in a law firm again. A long slithering tail where his legs should be… it is no wonder he cannot feel them anymore.
“You always were a little snake, my prince…” Vanessa croons, her eyes twinkling even as the monster in the mirror begins to cry. “Now the whole world will know.”
“...How could you? How could you?!” Luka sobs. He’s not thinking about Vanessa. He’s thinking about poor Harriet. He’s thinking about his job. He’s thinking about his life, in tatters. About the child he has to support. About the case he has to win. How in the world is he even going to get through courtroom doors like this? How is he going to navigate the formal attire required to be his own lawyer? What, is he going to just wear a tie on the day of the hearing and nothing else?
“How could I? How could you?” Vanessa snaps right back, crossing her arms and glaring, glaring as if Luka’s the one in the wrong. “You took my heart and ran away with it! You left me, alone, all alone in the world over a child!”
Luka sees frost beading at the edges of Vanessa’s clenched fists. Sees the tears of fury in her eyes. It explains everything. Magic? Magic. God, of all the people in the world to have magic, it has to be his ex…
“Now you understand, though, don’t you?” She says, her smile smoothing crookedly, uneasily over her face. Jagged lines and uncertain swoops. “You’re mine. Mine and mine alone. You can’t go anywhere else. No one else will accept you. No one will love you, not like me. That wretched child won’t even recognize you now.”
Vanessa reaches down, her pale hands coming to caress Luka’s cheek. Her fingers are still icy, horribly cold, all the worse on Luka’s freshly burned skin. “There’s nowhere else for you to go…”
“...I…” Luka whispers, shivering, trembling in her fingers. He sees her eyes widen. He sees the hope there. It’s the old hope, the hope he fell in love with, the light that was brilliant, that drew him in like a moth to the flame. God, he’d loved her so much, when he first saw her look up from her books, when he saw the boredom drain from her eyes to be replaced by this fire…
But that was then, and this is now.
“...I’m going to be pressing charges.” He hisses, pressing his hands into the dirt, scrabbling, sliding, slipping away into the night, however he can. He doesn’t think about it, can’t think about it - to think about it is to not be thinking about the furious howls of rage behind him, the wintry blasts of ice that shatter and smash tree branches above him - flash frozen in an instant.
Somehow. Somehow he gets away. Hauls himself up to a park bench somewhere, puts his head in his hands. Somehow, he finds a moment to think, but there’s only worry, only the same burning fear, over and over.
“She’s right.” Luka whispers, the horror dawning on him. “There’s no way the kid will recognize me now.”
--
He said he was only supposed to be an an hour, maybe two.
Luka had never been home late before. But, then… he usually didn’t make appointments this suddenly either. Not the day of, not thirty minutes before. But… it was with Harriet’s mom. So maybe that’s what made it special?
Harriet wasn’t supposed to know where, or with who but… she’d kind of listened in. Heard the phone call. It was… easy enough to pick up the details through the shouting, even without poking her head through a crack in the door. Subcon park, eight pm, sharp. They were going to talk about things. Talk about her.
It felt like the only thing anyone ever talked about anymore was her. But not in the way Harriet liked. Not talking about how brilliant she was, or how bright, or what she brought home from school. Talking about who she’d be happier with. Where she belonged. Who owned her.
Luka still talked about how bright she was, of course. How brilliant, how beautiful. But when he spoke about it, he was always… defensive. Or tired. Harriet wasn’t sure which one was worse.
Harriet… isn’t supposed to go out late. Or alone. But her dad is really, really late now. Maybe… maybe he got lost? Maybe it’s time to go look for him, to make sure he’s okay…
Harriet checks her phone again. Still no calls, no texts, nothing. Except, exactly as she’s looking the phone lights up, with a text from her dad -
“Dad
11:48PM
idmworot994 w”
-and nothing else. Not even the usual “Sorry I forgot it was in my pocket, kiddo!” that her dad always sends after scrambled texts. That seals it. He really must be in trouble, or he wouldn’t be so sloppy and un-Luka like…
Harriet snatches her hat from the hatstand, grabs her coat, and rushes out of the front door, into the night, unaware of the bright yellow eyes anxiously following her the whole way…
Luka follows along behind his own daughter, clumsily, awkwardly, anxiously, his body ribboning through the trees like an eel. He feels horrible doing it, but who else will keep an eye on her? Except, now he’s the embodiment of everything that he’s warned her to be afraid of in the night, the very essence of a “stranger.”
How is he going to be able to talk to her? How is he going to warn her about Vanessa, Vanessa who is even now, on the prowl, hunting for the both of them?
He waits until there is light, at least. A light and a bench and… hope. It’s risky. But he can’t wait any longer. He calls out, his voice rasping, low. Will she even recognize it?
“Hey, kiddo?”
Harriet jumps nearly out of her skin, starting back from the light - gazing around wildly into the night. She sees nothing. Just trees, darkness… and two glowing yellow eyes, suspended above a grinning mouth.
“M-monster!” Harriet shrieks, fear tingling up her tiny spine as she scrambles for the bench, crawling under it, losing her hat her haste to take cover and hide. Trembling like a leaf, too scared even to cry…
Luka feels his heart fall out of his chest to shatter on the cold ground below. Wasn’t it just like this? When things started getting rough. When him and Vanessa started fighting, and he had to turn the whole house upside down just to find the poor kid cowering under the bed…
Vanessa was right, of course. He doesn’t see any recognition in Harriet’s eyes. For the first time, he is a stranger, someone new, someone terrifying. Someone awful - a monster. He can’t blame her for hiding. But it still hurts him, leaves a sucking wound that sinks down to the pit of his soul, a chasm that might never heal…
“...H-hey, I’m not gonna hurt ya.” He chuckles, clumsily flopping down from the tree tops. The ground is hard, and the impact is harder as he lands in an ungainly heap. But the little giggle Harriet gives is worth it, even if the humor is lost as he shakily pulls himself into the light. “Don’t you recognize me, kiddo?”
Nothing. No reply, no recognition. Not even a response. He’s raised his kid well, even if it’s to his detriment. Don’t talk to suspiciously friendly people. If anything, she crawls further under the bench, keeping a wary eye on him. Luka sighs, running a hand over his head. Of course… it wouldn’t be this easy.
He spots the forgotten hat, lying on the ground, and reaches for it, stretching his arm far, grabbing it - and in that moment, when his eyes shift, Harriet makes a run for it. Smart girl. But he sees her hesitate, as he’s lying there with her favorite thing in the world. In response Luka slowly lifts up his girl’s favorite little topper, smiling forlornly.
“Come on Harriet. It’s me, Luka. I know it might be hard to believe right now but… don’t you recognize your father?”
Harriet stops. Not because she believes him. But because those words are familiar. Because when she was under the bed, sobbing her eyes out because her parents were splitting over her, over her… her dad had leaned down, with that same, forlorn smile, and had said…
“Come on, Harriet. I know it might be hard to believe right now… but it’s going to be okay.”
...In that same tone of voice…
“...D...dad?!” Harriet whispers, leaning down to take the hat, her eyes practically boggling. “What happened to you?”
Luka just laughs. That nervous, over-loud laugh he does when he’s losing a case, and pulls himself closer, wrapping around his daughter for a hug. Harriet tenses under him for the suddenness, the strangeness of it - but she doesn’t try to run. Instead she holds him back, comforting and being comforted at the same time.
“I have no idea. But we need to go. It’s not safe with Vanessa still around.”
#ahit#a hat in time#ahit 'coffee shop au'#the snatcher#hat kid#queen vanessa#writing#fanfiction time
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Oh man, it’s a fic for the “Coffee Shop AU,” which is lead by @doodledrawsthings.
I started this really early on and wrestled with it a lot, so things changed and shifted a bit since I started writing it. Looking at the new stuff vs. old, I’m surprised what details I got accurate, and not at all surprised at what I got wrong. Quite a lot of it is super super SUPER inaccurate, sorry.
This is more or less my take on Luka’s transformation, so... Take it for what you will, haha.
I also finished it a while back, but never had the guts to actually post it for one reason or another--I may as well post it anyway, since it’s gotten this far.
Word count: 6,749
-----------------------------------------------------
Luka nearly flew out of the restaurant and into the cooler-than-normal evening air, stumbling down a few of the steps leading to the door. The sound of rain could be heard all around him--it hadn’t let up since he arrived. Standing underneath the awning with his umbrella cradled in the crook of his right arm, he stuffed both hands into his pockets, puffing out a frustrated sigh. His face was burning hot, and his chest was tight with indignation.
He should have known that a call to “make amends” from Vanessa was going to be a big, fat lie. Luka’s brow creased, and he stared at the damp pavement beneath the bottom step, silently wondering why he had ever thought that such would have been the case. During the legal battles of divorce and custody, that vile woman more than demonstrated her ice-cold and vitriolic feelings towards him.
Maybe, deep down, he still felt something for her... And he did truly want to make amends. Too bad the same wasn’t true for Vanessa.
Popping his umbrella open, he finally trotted down the rest of the stairs and to the sidewalk. It was about time that he went home, but along the way he needed to pick up little Harriet from her friend’s house. Hopefully she wouldn’t mind walking in the rain, but somehow he doubted she would.
As he turned the corner, he couldn’t help but shiver. Frown creasing his features further, he thought to himself, “Wasn’t it supposed to be in the 70′s tonight?” If only he had worn a thicker sweater... If it got any colder, he would have been able to see his breath!
To make matters worse, in the corner of his eye Luka could make out little white dots bouncing around on the ground. Pace slowing a bit, it wasn’t long before he was hearing heavier objects hitting his umbrella. Hail?! For pity’s sake, can’t he catch a break for just a second? Holding the umbrella tight, he started to run down the sidewalk, having to skid to a halt when he realized that he had nearly overshot his friend’s house.
Bounding up the porch, he knocked on the door, drumming his fingers against the umbrella’s handle. The door opened, however instead of being met with her caregiver, he was instead met with the very small, curly-haired Bonnie. She stared up at him with her big, purple eyes for a moment, then gave him a toothy grin.
“Hi!” she chirped. She looked over her shoulder, “Ms. Tina! Mr. Luka is here!”
“Tell him to come in, please!” he could hear a woman’s voice call from inside. Tina must have been making dinner.
The smell of steamed vegetables hit his senses in just the right way, causing his stomach to growl a little. However as he took in a deep breath, Luka’s throat felt rather sore. Not wanting to assume the worst, he simply brushed it off as him having raised his voice a bit too much when he spoke with Vanessa. The conversation did get quite heated, after all--but with Vanessa, one could say that she was always chilling.
Bonnie motioned for him to come inside as she skipped into the living room herself. The home was comfortably warm, a welcome change from the cold, wet outside. She flopped back onto the floor right next to Harriet, who was lying on her stomach and holding a purple crayon in a crab-like vice grip. She looked up and smiled.
“Oh, hi, dad!” she kicked her legs up into the air and drew both arms to her chest, “Did it go okay with mom...?”
“Hey, kiddo.” Luka replied with a sigh. He didn’t reply at first, trying to think over his response. Standing in the door frame he shook his folded umbrella off over the porch, then placed it inside beside the door. He could feel Harriet’s eyes piercing into him.
“Sorry to say, it didn’t go so well,” he finally stated, his shoulders slumping significantly. His daughter was young, but he knew she was smart. There was no sense hiding it, but the look of disappointment on her face made him feel regret tweak at his heart.
Bonnie spoke up, “She didn’t use any of her,” the girl wiggled her fingers in a “mysterious” fashion, “Eeevil magic on you, did she?”
Blinking, Luka couldn’t help but smirk, “Oh, no... She didn’t!” he grinned, “But if she did,” he grabbed his umbrella and brandished it like a sword, droplets of water scattering about, “I would’ve fought her off!”
When the two girls giggled at his display, Luka relaxed a bit. For Harriet, laughter was a powerful tool in these harsh times. First and foremost, making her happy and keeping her healthy was his biggest goal.
Just as he set the umbrella back down, Bonnie’s caregiver, Tina, stepped into the living room. She gave Luka a warm smile, “Hey! It sure sounds like it’s coming down out there, did you manage to stay dry?”
“I’m mostly dry, but it started hailing on the way here!”
Tina blinked, her dark brown eyes wide, “Hail?” she asked in a doubtful tone, “This time of year?” she made way towards the still open door and peered through it. Her eyebrows rose in surprise, “Wow! Isn’t that something...” she squared her shoulders and placed her hands on her hips, “Well, I can’t let you walk home in that...”
“It surprised me, too,” Luka huffed, rubbing the back of his neck, “Would it be too much to wait it out here?”
“Not a problem at all!” she flashed Luka a bright smile, “I can add some more to the dinner if you’d like to stay! Once Honey gets here, we can have a nice, big meal!”
Closing the door, Luka shot a glance to his daughter, “What do you think?” he asked, having to clear his throat, “Wanna eat dinner here?” his throat was starting to feel worse. Was he suddenly coming down with a cold, or something?
The girl threw both arms into the air, nearly tossing her crayon in the process, “Yeah!! Ms. Tina’s food is the best!”
Tina laughed in a merry way, then started for the kitchen once more. She muttered quietly to herself as she thought about how many more vegetables to steam, how many patties to fry... However she stopped in her tracks when Luka gently flagged her down.
“Need any help?” he asked. There was a sudden weight on his shoulders, as if someone had put a thick blanket over him. Despite this, he didn’t want to impose on such a good friend, especially after she had so kindly watched his daughter!
The woman smiled brightly and gave a wave of her hand, “Oh no! It’s a real simple meal tonight, but it’ll be delicious all the same,” she motioned to the couch, “Why don’t you watch the girls? That’d be a mighty help.”
“S-sure,” he replied, clearing his throat again, “But can I,” he cleared his throat again, this time ending with a small coughing fit, “Mmh, can I get a glass of water?”
Concern creasing her brow, Tina replied, “Well sure... Are you alright?”
With slow and careful movements, Luka took a seat, “Hm... All of the sudden, I’m not...” he rubbed at his face, it was burning hot, “I’m not feeling so great...”
“Dad, your face is all red!” Harriet remarked in shock.
“Goodness, she’s right!” Tina leaned over him, gently placing her hands on his arm and back, “Maybe you should go home and rest up!”
Brow creasing, Luka rubbed his forehead with the base of his palm. He took a moment to answer, but eventually nodded. Going home would be best... If he was getting sick, he didn’t want to risk making anyone else ill.
“Okay, Bonnie,” Tina said with a clap of her hands, “Get your shoes on.” when Bonnie rushed to her room to grab a pair of socks, Tina turned back to Luka, “Don’t you worry, I’ll drive you over. It’s not far, but I don’t think you’re in any condition to walk there, especially in hail.”
Luka merely nodded in agreement, however he looked to Harriet, “Hey, kiddo... You wanna spend the night here...?”
She shook her head briskly, her ponytail slapping the side of her face, “No! I need to make sure you’re okay, dad!” she said firmly. She went to the door to grab her shoes. Well, looks like that was settled...
Once Bonnie and Harriet had gotten their shoes on, the four of them piled into Tina’s mini van, and were off.
Trying to keep himself awake, Luka attempted to make small talk, “So... How’s it been fostering Bonnie?” he asked.
Tina smiled, “It’s been going wonderfully, but...” she sighed as they reached a stop sign, “We’re nearing the end of the 13 month care...”
Luka gripped his seat belt with both hands, “Have you and Honey... Considered adopting her?” he asked in a hopeful tone
Smile faltering, Tina seemed to hesitate before easing on the brakes, “Yes, but... Getting the paperwork cleared has been a struggle. Honey and I haven’t had any luck...”
“Ah, sorry... Maybe I can help you clear things up a bit?” Luka offered. He was having a hard time keeping his eyes open.
“I’d appreciate that, and I’m sure Bonnie would, too!” Tina chimed with a toothy grin, “You need to put all that law studying to good use, huh?”
With the vehicle thoroughly pelted with hail, and a couple blocks later, they pulled into Luka’s drive. The father-daughter pair said their goodbyes and quickly retreated inside, however the hail was finally starting to subside. Now that they were home, it was time to get Harriet some supper.
Frankly, he wasn’t feeling very hungry himself, but one way or another he had to make sure that his daughter ate. He shambled into the kitchen and pried open the fridge--the seal was oddly tighter than usual--where he produced a frozen kid’s meal. Harriet stood in the door frame, watching him with worry in her eyes. She wrung her little hands nervously.
“Dad, I can make it myself!” she urged. She knew how to use the microwave...! It was just a little hard to know how many zeros to put on it when cooking something, and she often forgot to stir it halfway through... But she didn’t mind eating it a little cold! Honest!
Luka pulled a knife from the drawer and started poking holes into the film. He glanced over his shoulder with a weak smile, “Don’t worry about it, kiddo.” he said with a low voice. Using his head, he motioned for her to go to the bathroom, “Why don’t you kick off your shoes and wash your hands?”
Hesitating, Harriet bit her lower lip. She didn’t want to leave her dad alone... But if she was quick about it, then it wouldn’t be a problem! Maybe she could even grab her stool from the bathroom so she could reach the microwave buttons, and kitchen sink. Then she could make her dad a meal, too! The girl rushed deeper into the house without another word.
In the bathroom, Harriet made quick work of washing her hands, knocking over the soap bottle in the process of dispensing some of the foam onto her hands. She’d pick it up later! As she rushed to rinse her hands, she noticed her dear owl plush, Professor Popcorn, sitting by the sink. She had to rinse off his dear little beak this morning, and she must have left him there when she heard she was going to visit Bonnie.
Wringing her hands dry on a towel, she picked him up carefully, “Professor!” she cried, “Dad’s feeling sick, what do we do?”
She tried to imitate the voice her father would use when speaking for the owl by making her voice sound deeper, “Hm, I say that a hot bowl of soup will fix him right up!” she waved the plush around gently to make it look like he was talking.
“You’re right, Professor Popcorn!” Harriet confirmed with a nod, “Dad loves chicken soup, and we got a can of it! I can heat it up in the microwave!”
“I’ll help you read the instructions!” she had the professor conclude, manipulating his wing to adjust his glasses.
Meanwhile, Luka’s time was starting to get harder. His vision was getting hazy, his head was spinning, and his entire body felt sore. Dark splotches obscured his vision, and it almost looked as though his own arms were starting to turn dark.
Rubbing at his forehead with his knuckles, there was a loud clatter as the knife tumbled out of his hands and fell to the floor. Thankfully it didn’t land anywhere near his foot, however it was curious; he had a tight grip on that between his finger and thumb.
Pain snaked its way through his body as he leaned over to pick it up, causing him to grit his teeth and close his eyes tightly. He froze in place, one hand pressed against the counter top as one reached for the ground. Sweat began to pour from his brow in droves, drip, drip dripping onto his arm and the floor. At that point he had dared to open his eyes, and his stomach did a back-flip when he saw the state of his hand.
It... Wasn’t his hand anymore, or at least, it didn’t look like his hand. It had been replaced with a paw-like two-fingered hand that was a deep shade of purple. Said purple was slithering up his arm with snake-like tendrils. Losing his grip on the counter, Luka only managed to gasp as he fell roughly onto his knees. He looked to his right hand, which was much the same--thumbless and purple. No wonder he had dropped the knife! The purple substance had reached well past his elbow there.
The lights above flickered as fear struck his heart. With clumsy movements he tried to manipulate his new “hands” to try and scrape and push the purple stuff off of him, but all that succeeded in was sending droplets of purple onto the tiled floor. His arms remained unchanged, and the color only seemed to pick up the pace as it soon reached his shoulder and crept up his neck.
Bowling over as pain overtook him, Luka wrapped both arms around his stomach and pressed his forehead against the now-damp floor. His jaw was locked open, his eyes were as wide as saucers, and his vision was filled with a golden light as tears streamed from them.
Fabric ripped and shredded as his form shifted and grew. The lights buzzed as they flickered wildly. A mane sprouted from his neck, ripping and tearing his shirt further. It didn’t take long for his entire body to be shrouded in the purple tone. Finally, when his legs began to twist together, Luka let out a scream.
The kitchen lights burst. The house was shrouded in darkness.
When the lights began to flicker, Harriet clutched Professor Popcorn close to her chest, gasping in fear. She hated it when the power went out! She closed her eyes as the lights buzzed.
“D-dad?!” she cried. That was when she heard his scream, and her heart fluttered. She yelped when the lights went out, and without thinking about it she jumped from her stool and rushed into the hallway. However her pace slowed, her hand gently guiding her along the hall when she heard an inhuman panting from in the kitchen.
It sounded like there was some kind of monster in there... But monsters weren’t real, right? Dad always told her that she had nothing to be afraid of under her bed or in her closet... So the only thing that should be in the kitchen was her dad....
Right?
She tried to swallow the lump in her throat. Her heart was pounding in her ears, and every fiber in her body was telling her to run away, to hide under her bed until the power came on, or her dad coaxed her out... But despite her wanting to scream at her legs to stop, they carried her all the way to the kitchen door.
The house was dark, but there was just enough light for Harriet to see. In the kitchen, however, it was as if something had absorbed all of the light. It was pitch black, and she couldn’t make anything out--even the window had turned black.
Harriet fought back her tears. She was so frightened that she could barely speak, but she just had to make sure her father was ok. She finally managed to speak up again with a squeak, “Dad...?”
Something in the darkness moved. She could hear it shuffling about. Slithering around like a giant snake. Her grip around her plush tightened, and her heart nearly sprung into her mouth. A set of bright, golden eyes appeared in the darkness, illuminating a bit of the kitchen with yellow light. She could just make out the shape of the eye’s owner--big and purple, with a scruffy-looking mane. It had a long, long body, and two arms that propped it up.
Around it were scraps of clothes and little puddles of a dark liquid. In the dim light she couldn’t tell what color those were, but her imagination quickly filled in the blanks--blood.
It was blood. It was her father’s blood. Whatever monster this was had ripped her dad to ribbons and ate him, leaving nothing but his shredded clothing behind.
Harriet’s mouth dropped open, but nothing escaped her throat but air. Tears were streaming from her eyes. The monster opened its own mouth, revealing its wicked, sharp fangs. More golden light spilled out into the kitchen from the beast’s maw. Its breathing was raspy. It shuffled about and moved its mouth as if trying to speak.
“Ha... Harri....” it croaked. It almost sounded like her father. Chills washed through the girl’s tiny body, and her hairs stood on end, “Ha.. rriet...” oh peck, it knew her name!
It reached out to her with inhuman fingers. Frozen in place, Harriet hadn’t a single clue what to do. Her legs continued to refuse to listen to her--now that she wanted to move, they were suddenly cemented to the carpet. She whimpered pathetically.
Hot fingers brushed against her cheek, the tips of claws gently caressing her face. Harriet inhaled. Then she shrieked. As loud as she could she screamed bloody murder, and the monster shrank back in shock. Her legs finally listened to her, and she bolted for the door, which she flung open and didn’t think to close behind her.
“W... Wai... Wait!!” the monster called. But it fell on deaf ears.
Not only did Luka’s body ache, but his heart did, too. He never wanted to frighten his daughter, he never wanted to make her feel unsafe or in danger. But now, it almost seemed as though he had no choice. Whatever form he had taken on mortified the poor child, and now she was running into the late evening streets, completely unprotected.
He had to go after her. He had to make sure she was safe, and he had to let her know that her dad was still here, despite not looking the same anymore. He attempted to push himself upright, however he quickly realized that he no longer had legs. When they had twisted together in such a painful manner, they had fused together to make one long tail. There was no way he could chase after her like this!
He’d just have to drag himself, then. With his arms he began to haul himself past the tile, over the carpet, and through the door. As he lowered himself off of the porch, he realized that his body was remarkably light. He had no issue dragging himself across the ground, and now that he was on the stairs, he felt as though he were...
Floating?! He could float? There wasn’t any time to question it... He’d just have to take it as a blessing in disguise and hope that he could use it to his advantage. He pushed himself off of the ground, and much to his surprise, he remained in the air. Twisting his body this way and that like a snake, he quickly found that this mode of transportation was much faster than crawling around like a newborn. As he got the hang of it, he could pick up the pace.
Man, he hoped no one would see him like this...
Rounding the corner, Luka looked this way and that until he caught a glimpse of Harriet, who was bolting down the sidewalk towards the park. He gasped, “Harriet!” his voice boomed. It echoed and carried throughout the subdivision, causing a few dogs to start barking in shock. Even Harriet was surprised, and she tripped over her own feet and smacked into the pavement.
Luka clapped a hand over his mouth. Goodness, did his voice carry! He was sure to be seen now. Before he could catch up to her, his daughter had picked herself up and was running with new strength across the road to the park. Her beloved owl doll lay limp on the cracked pavement.
“W-wait, please, wait!” Luka called, pathetically trying to moderate his voice, “Hatty, please!” he hoped that the fond nickname would cause her to pause, but she kept on running. If he could have seen her face, he would have noted that her eyes were screwed shut. Thank goodness no cars were coming...
Making haste to pick up the doll, Luka was hot on Harriet’s tail. He could hear a few people poking out of their houses nearby, which only made him speed up. He quickly hopped over the brick wall and started his search for Harriet, looking in, around and under anything that she could have been inside of.
Finally, he found her huddled in the corner of one wall, concealed by a bush coated in flowers. She was shaking like a leaf and trying her hardest to hold back terrified sobs. Coiling himself inside the bush, he hoped that it would be enough to hide himself as he tried to console his daughter.
“Harriet?” he cooed. His voice was still too loud, even as he tried to whisper. It didn’t sound right, “Harriet, it’s me--it’s...”
She pushed herself further into the corner, turning her head towards the wall. She sobbed quietly, and Luka’s lower lip trembled.
“Sweetheart, please--please don’t be...”
This time Harriet sobbed louder, hiccuping into her knees. Luka shrank back a little looking at his empty hand. Could he really console her like this? When he looked and sounded like a monster? He then looked to the plush he held in his right hand. Professor Popcorn... Maybe this could help.
Holding the owl out, Luka tried to hide his face behind the plush as he put on the special voice he always used for the dear old professor, “H-hey there, kiddo! It’s me, Professor Popcorn!” the owl waved his little wing, and Harriet lifted her head. Luka dared to crack a weak smile, “I know things are really scary right now... But I just want ya to know that everything’s gonna be O-KAY!”
Harriet turned, staring intently at the doll. The way he moved, the way he spoke... It was exactly like how her dad would talk when they played together. Sure, his voice sounded a little... Scary, but the tone, the inflections... They were all the same.
“And that I love you...” Luka’s voice started to seep into Professor Popcorn’s, “Very, very much...”
Harriet dared to look up. Through the branches and leaves she could make out the monster’s face, his eyes glowing faintly. As he took on a gentle expression and leaned forward, she could almost see her father’s face in its features...
“... Y-you... Dropped him while you were running...” Luka continued, “I know how much you hate it when his beak gets dirty.”
Tears were spilling from her eyes again, and she shuffled about anxiously. Was it? Could it be?! Her eyes darted up and down his body, doubts still sprouting in her mind. But all the same, she wanted to believe it. She wanted it to be true, because it was an awful lot better than her dad being gone.
“Da... aad??” she hiccuped. Luka smiled weakly and nodded. With a loud sob she jumped into his arms, pressing her face into his scruffy-looking purple mane, which was surprisingly soft. She buried her nose into it, drinking in his smell. He looked different, he sounded different, but now she knew, this was her dad.
Wrapping his hands around her tiny frame, he gently rubbed the back of her head, whispering into her ear, “Shhh... It’s okay, it’s okay...” he took in a shaky breath, “I’m still here, dad’s still here...”
Harriet continued to sob. She must have been so frightened. Guilt stung at his chest, knowing that he was the cause of her terror... However he nearly jumped when she started to spurt out apologies. He backed away, his brow creased.
“What are you apologizing for?”
Wiping her eyes on her sleeve, Harriet hiccuped again and sniffled, “I... I thought you were a m-monster,” she replied, “An... And you ate my dad... I ha-hated you for a little bit...”
Carefully cradling her shoulders in his hands, Luka shook his head, “No no, you have nothing to be sorry for, Hatty. I... I’d be scared, too.” with one finger he wiped away a tear, “But you know, you’re very brave,” he added, “You looked me in the face now, and realized I wasn’t a monster.”
A little smile appeared on Harriet’s lips as she continued to sniffle, “E-even if you look like a monster,” she whispered, “I... I still love you, dad.”
Scooping up into his arms, Luka gave his daughter a tight squeeze. There was some relief that washed over him, knowing that his daughter still loved him despite all of this, however worry had started to snake its way into his mind. How was he going to care for her when he looked like this? He hadn’t even seen his own reflection yet, but considering how Harriet reacted, he wouldn’t be able to even face his best of friends...
Suddenly, there was a jab at his lower end, as if someone had prodded him with a stick. Crap, he had been seen! Tensing up, the length of his body coiled tighter as he held Harriet closer to his chest, protecting her from sight and harm with his torso. He must not have concealed himself enough. Curse this snake-like body!
“A-alright!” a man’s voice demanded, “Come out, y-you... Beast!”
Luka’s body went cold. What was he to do now?! Fear had pooled in Harriet’s eyes once again, and she clung to his mane as tightly as she could. He could feel her little body trembling.
“Come out or I’ll shoot!”
He realized he didn’t have a choice. He popped out from the bush, scattering leaves and flower petals everywhere. A group of ten or eleven adults had gathered, a few of them with children who were cowering behind their legs and clinging to their pant legs. The group gasped audibly, backing away as they erupted into distress.
“Oh gosh, it’s got a kid!” one shrieked. This caused a few screams within the group, and Harriet to try and hide.
“SOMEBODY CALL THE POLICE!”
“No, get animal control!”
“Roger, just SHOOT the thing, already!!”
The man in front, who was holding a hunter’s gun, was quite literally shaking in his boots. He aimed his weapon, but his moment of hesitation gave Luka enough time to react. He wanted a distraction, a diversion of some kind, and when he screwed his eyes shut he somehow willed it to be. The area was suddenly plunged into darkness as if the sun had been blotted out. Both his daughter and the group screamed, but it was more than enough of a distraction as he leaped over the brick wall and flew off in search of a proper hiding spot.
The two emerged from the darkness as if it were a bubble. Blinking rapidly, Harriet peered over her father’s shoulder, finding it curious that the darkness was in such a concentrated area.
“D-did you do that?” she squeaked.
Glancing over his shoulder, Luka was equally surprised at what he had done. Frankly, he didn’t want to even think about it, “I-I guess so...” he replied. He dreaded the idea that powers came with this monstrous form, but as he lifted them above the treetops in hopes that they’d look like a bird or lost kite, he realized that his say didn’t matter.
Harriet continued to grip his mane for security, her eyes drifting to the land below, “Uh... We’re getting kinda high...”
“Sorry, I don’t want them to catch us,” he glanced at his daughter, “Is it too high?” he tightened his arms around her.
“N-no... I kinda like it.” she admitted. She fell silent for a few moments more, watching the city go by beneath them. She eventually asked, “Where are we going?”
Luka bit his lower lip, “Not sure... Somewhere to hide until the neighborhood calms down.”
“Um... Why not that old movie theater they closed down?” she suggested, “That should be big enough.”
“That sounds good.” Luka whispered in reply. It’d have to do for now, seeing he could sneak in through one of the doors. Or at the very least, they alleyway would suffice as a hiding place.
Locating the old movie theater, Luka had to squeeeeeze his way into the alleyway, between the brick walls. Was it just him, or had he gotten larger? He felt so big and obvious already! There was no way he’d be able to fit inside the theater like this, so he just hoped no one would be coming into the alleyway, especially this late.
He lowered Harriet to the ground, “We’ll stay here for a while...” he whispered.
“Dad, we’ve gotta get some help!” Harriet cried, however she tried keeping her voice down, “We need to find someone who can turn you back to normal!”
Luka’s tail twisted itself into knots, and his expression turned dour, “I don’t know anyone that can fix this,” he sighed, looking at his hands, “And going out now, with everyone in a tizzy about a monster... That’d be asking for trouble.”
“What about Ms. Tina and Honey?” Harriet persisted, “They might be able to help! They’ve got a real big basement you can hide in!” she threw her arms in the air to demonstrate.
“Harriet...” he placed a paw on the top of her head, “... No, I’m sorry. I need to lay low for a while. At least let things calm down. It’s hard telling if anyone would believe me.”
“Bonnie would...” she pouted in reply.
Heaving a sigh Luka paused to think, placing his free hand to where his chin would have normally been. If he was going to be laying low for a time, he couldn’t keep Harriet with him, now could he?
If anyone found out that he was a monster, there would be no chance of him being able to keep Harriet’s custody. After such a long and difficult battle, that made his stomach churn. The idea of Harriet falling into foster care, or even worse, falling into the custody of Vanessa, made his stomach do back flips. What was the best option here? His expression grew grim, a frown etching itself deeper and deeper into his dark features.
“You okay, dad?”
“Hey,” he spoke up, “Why don’t I drop you off at Tina’s house? She and Honey can take care of you for a while.” he paused, “Until I can get this all sorted.”
“What?!” the girl exclaimed, her eyes widening, “No! No way!” she pushed her father’s paw off her head and pressed her hands against his chest, “I’m staying with you!”
“Harriet--”
“I don’t want to leave you!” her fingers wrapped around his fur, “And, and--you’d be lonely without me!” tears welled in her big blue eyes again, “You need someone to scout for you, to see if there are people around! What if something happened, and I never saw you again?!” the tears spilled over her cheeks and down her chin.
“Hey, hey...” Luka cooed, placing his all-too-massive paws on her shoulders, “Okay... Okay, you can stay with me...” he hoped that he wouldn’t regret that decision.
Smiling, Harriet wiped her tears away, “Mean it?”
“Yeah.” Luka nodded, “I mean it.”
Lying on the ground, Luka allowed Harriet to climb into his crossed arms. They remained silent for a time as he waited for enough time to pass. He wondered if anyone would be checking out their house. He certainly hoped not, but he could imagine that most of his neighbors would recognize Harriet as the “hat kid from down the street” without much problem. He sighed.
Harriet’s stomach growled, “Dad,” she gently tugged at a tuft of fur, “I’m hungry.”
Lifting his head, Luka frowned. Shoot, he didn’t finish making her that frozen meal, did he? And he didn’t have his wallet, either, “Ah, sorry kiddo... You’ll have to wait a couple more minutes before we can try to go home.”
“Hm...” her little face scrunched up in thought, “Oh, I know! There’s a restaurant nearby, I think! I can dig out some food from the trash!” before her father could object, she jumped out of his arms and ran off.
With a quick motion, Luka grabbed her by the back of her shirt and lifted her in the air, “Oooh, no you don’t, kiddo!” she squirmed a little but quickly gave up, “I’m not letting you get a stomach bug, or eat a rat or something.” he couldn’t help but chuckle.
Folding her arms over her chest, Harriet pouted, “Aw... What if I wanted to eat a rat?”
Lifting himself into the air, he plopped her back into his arms, “Well, you’re not gonna.” he glanced to the sky, which had gone completely dark, “It ought to be late enough for everyone to go back home...” . At least he’d be able to hide fairly well in the dark of the night.
There were a number of police cars around the neighborhood. Luka’s body had gone cold again, not wanting to think about what would happen if one of them spotted him. Closing his eyes, he took in a deep breath, and then slid across the subdivision, keeping low to the ground and hiding in any shadows he could find. He crawled over fences, through backyards, and around houses until they finally reached their destination.
Their house was still pitch dark. A few police cars had just pulled away from the front--had they investigated the home? Luka chewed on his cheek, hoping that they had gotten everything they needed by now and were all gone.
“Dad,” Harriet whispered, “There are people in the front, how will we get in?”
Eyes drifting along the back wall, he decided that they’d just have to break in. How odd was that? Breaking into your own house... Well, it had to be done. Hovering to the windows, he attempted to peer inside of one, however his glowing eyes were all that reflected back at him. He scoffed in disgust.
“You ok?” Harriet asked.
“Hey, can you do me a favor?” he asked. When she nodded, he held her up to the window, “Take a look inside, and let me know if you see anyone.”
Cupping her hands around her eyes, Harriet looked through the window with a scrutinizing stare, “All clear!” she said. The pair repeated this process a few more times until they eventually concluded that the house was empty. What a relief!
“Okay, hold onto me,” Luka said. Once Harriet’s arms were wrapped around him, he located her room’s window, and pried his fingers underneath the frame. It took a bit of work, but he eventually managed to pry it open with a loud grunt, “Okay, go inside, and get your clothes.”
Harriet frowned, “We can’t say here anymore...?”
Drooping a bit, Luka shook his head, “Sorry... We can’t. Not with everyone suspicious of it, now.”
Despite her feelings, she complied and crawled through the window. As she went to find her suitcase, she turned to the window, “Can you help me...?” she asked.
Narrowing his eyes, Luka wasn’t sure he’d fit in her room, let alone through the window. But, he’d give it a shot. Pressing his head through the window, he found it to be quite the tight squeeze, but after a few attempts, he managed to get inside, knocking over a lamp in the process. The bulb shattered upon impact with the ground.
“Oh!” Harriet cried. Realizing she rose her voice a bit too much, she shrank back a little and lowered her voice, “Did you get smaller?” she asked. It wasn’t a significant change by any means--he was still massive--but he fit in her little room better than he did the alleyway.
“I don’t know,” Luka shrugged with a furrowed brow. Picking the lamp off the ground, he didn’t really know what to make of this. But there was no time to dwell on it! They had clothes and food to pack!
Harriet passed her favorite outfits over to her father, who carefully folded them into a purple-colored suitcase. A tight fit, but Harriet managed to find space for a few toys by cramming them in the pockets. They grabbed her back pack, dumping Harriet’s kindergarten books unceremoniously onto the floor. With a larger duffel bag in tow, the pair went into the kitchen to pack more supplies.
Harriet’s bag was filled with the lighter supplies--money, bandages, Luka’s phone, a lighter, and a number of other necessities. As he took a few items, such as bandages, from the bathroom, that was when he finally got a good look at himself in the mirror. He stared at his reflection blankly at first, then his expression twisted into one of disgust. He turned away, not wanting to look at it any longer.
Back in the kitchen, the duffel bag was filled with whatever non-perishable foods Luka could find, as well as a pot or two. He double-checked everything in the bags, then slung the duffel over what shoulders he had. He had to tighten the strap to make sure it stayed in place.
Luka couldn’t think of anything else to pack, especially anything that wouldn’t weigh them down too much. He was certain that he’d think of more on their way out of the city, but at this point it was best to just get the both of them to someplace safe.
With everything in tow, Luka scooped Harriet into his arms, and slipped into the night, his sleek purple body blending perfectly in the dark. As he rose into the air, he ran a few options in his head; where they could hide, where they could find shelter, where they could get food... It was going to be terribly difficult for his little daughter, and he so desperately wished that he could have simply left her with a trusted friend instead.
Harriet spoke up when they were high enough to soar over buildings, pulling him from his thoughts, “Hey... Dad?”
“What’s up, kiddo?”
“... Do you think mom was the one that did this to you?”
Luka fell silent, his tail jerking a bit. It was odd; until now, that hadn’t even crossed his mind. But as his stomach churned, he could only conclude that it was true. The drink Vanessa offered him, the sick feeling he got after leaving the restaurant, the horrific transformation. It all added up. Narrowing his eyes, he frowned deeply.
Five years later, Vanessa was just as petty as when Harriet was born.
“You know, I think you’re right.” he finally sighed, “Somehow I don’t think she’d be very willing to reverse it. For now, let’s just... Get somewhere safe.”
A pang of guilt flashed in Harriet’s eyes as she gently placed her hand against her father’s chest. She slowly nodded in reply, her shoulders slumping ever so slightly.
Solemnly and in silence, the pair flew to the horizon, uncertainty following them like a storm cloud.
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A Person Who Has Never Played MCSM Writes A Story About MCSM Chp. 18
Jesse stared at his breakfast. He hasn’t touched it. It was pancakes. He loved pancakes, but he wasn’t hungry. He hasn’t been hungry for a while. Everything looked so unappetizing. Everything’s been making him sick.
His friends were all around him, talking to each other as they ate their breakfast, but he wasn’t paying attention.
The Gatherings have been ruining his sleep. He used to hate being dragged to the shrine so late in the day, he hated forcing himself to stay awake as the Visions spoke, he hated giving them so much of his time and energy, but now? He’s adjusted to it. And he hates it. He’ll find himself lying wide awake in bed, staring at the ceiling or squeezing his eyes shut, trying to fall asleep so he doesn’t drift off in the middle of the night, making his friends worry again.
Some nights he’ll be absolutely exhausted. He’ll stay up all evening, his mind and body begging for him to sleep, but whenever he’d finally slip into bed, he’d be wide awake.
Anytime his friends questioned him about it, wondering if there was anything going on, Jesse would tell them he’s been having nightmares. He wasn’t completely lying. The days he could fall asleep, he’d dream of Lukas. He’d always try to get close to him, but something would always pull him away. He’d try to cry out and run towards him, to hug him, but something would hold Jesse back, and Lukas could never hear him. Sometimes he’d watch Lukas get dragged into the ground, or ripped apart by the members of The Awakening, and there was nothing he could do.
Other times his dreams would be another friend. Aiden disappearing and never being seen again, Gill getting impaled, Cassie burning in the Nether, Olivia falling…
Then there’d be the dreams about himself.
They’d start out so normal, he’d believe he was actually awake. He’d be downstairs with his friends, talking, maybe Hadrian and Mevia came over, then someone would brush their hand against his neck. He’d never comment on it, he wouldn’t even notice it at first. Then another would run their fingers through his hair, hold his shoulders, an arm would wrap around him and hold him close to whoever was nearby until more and more hands were feeling around him, like they were searching for something on him. In him. They’d keep touching him, trying to pry his hands open to hold them, they’d tear his clothes and search his skin, and Jesse would be trying so hard to escape that he wouldn’t notice the living room had distorted into the shrine.
There’d come a point where the hands were feeling all around him, and he couldn’t do a thing. Just let them feel him. He hated the fingers crawling across his skin, he hated the warmth of the palms on his face, he hated the touching, he hated--
“What do you think, Jesse?” Olivia asked.
Jesse blinked. He tore his eyes away from the food and looked at Olivia. She looked back, plate in her hands as she waited for his response.
Jesse quickly glanced at his food then back to her, “It’s good! Thanks.”
Olivia frowned, nose scrunching up as she walked past Jesse and into the kitchen.
“You can ask me to repeat myself, you know.” She said, placing her dirty dish in the sink.
“Yeah, sorry.” He gave a crooked smile, “What was the question?”
“I was saying how weird it is that The Awakening’s been attacking our house less.” She turned on the water and started scrubbing. “I mean, not that I’m complaining! I just think it’s odd, you know?”
“They just threw a couple’a rocks and vandalized it a bit, I wouldn’t really call them ‘attacks’.” Aiden said, laying across the couch while Cassie sat on whatever space was left, eating her pancakes.
Stella stood behind the couch with her arms folded, “Oh, and I suppose the time they tried to set our house on fire was also a minor inconvenience?”
“I mean, to be fair, they didn’t really get too far with that. Gill found them while getting the mail and they didn’t even make smoke.” Cassie commented before taking another forkful of her breakfast, syrup and fruit spilling off the plate.
Stella’s mouth hung open, “They still tried to set our house on fire!”
“Could’ve been making s’mores.” Maya added from the armchair with a mouth full of food.
“Oh, stop!” Stella sounded frustrated, but everyone could see the grin on her face. Cassie and Aiden laughed.
No one was really sure if it was actually Awakening members targeting them. With the exception of the men who tried to burn their house down, they’ve never seen who was breaking their windows, marking their house, or mailing them strange, broken relics, but who else had such a burning hatred towards them? It was obvious to them all.
“Let’s be real here, they were clearly intimidated by how strong I am.” Aiden smirked as he flexed his arm.
“Oh really?” Olivia raised her brows.
“Maybe it’s got somethin’ to do with Lukas.” Gill said, sitting back down beside Jesse at the bar table with his third helping of pancakes. He peeked up from his plate and saw how everyone’s smiles dropped. He shrunk, face turning red.
He cut into his cakes, looking away, “Sorry. Didn’t mean to ruin th’mood.”
Everyone was silent for a moment, unsure of what to say next.
Maya spoke up, “He could be right. After we had his funeral, they’ve been slowing down.”
“That is a good point.” Olivia kept her head down as she turned the sink off, “It’s only been some months, but I’ve noticed it too.”
“Maybe they got what they wanted.” Gill picked at his food. He ruined his own appetite.
“Maybe.” Jesse mumbled.
His fingers twitched on the table top, his food was getting more repulsive by the second as a nauseous feeling rose in his stomach. The world began to blur again, and his friends’ voices faded, until all that was left was his thoughts.
This was his fault, wasn’t it?
Maybe the attacks did have something to do with Lukas. Or maybe The Awakening saw Jesse as an actual member. Maybe they didn’t want to attack another member’s home now that he was on ‘their’ side. Why would The Awakening suddenly stop targeting them after one of their enemies ‘disappeared’? Why wouldn’t they go for more? Why wouldn’t they keep trying to tear their home apart?
Jesse stared at his friends. If The Awakening was slowing their attacks because of him, then it’d be best if he drew out his stay, wouldn’t it?
He failed to find out about Lukas. He failed to get information, but if staying for a bit longer meant it protected his friends, then that’s what he’ll do.
He can’t stay forever. He knows he can’t. He doesn’t want to, but he can’t just suddenly leave. What if the attacks worsened? What if they come back stronger than before? What if another one of his friends got taken? It’d be his fault. He’d never forgive himself.
He needed to slowly leave. Bit by bit. One day he’ll arrive a little late to a Gathering, the next he’ll claim he’s sick, and eventually he’ll leave and never look back. He’ll find a way out. There’s always a way out.
There was also that bit of fear, the bit of worry that after he leaves, a member in Obsidian Town will find him. They’ll make a scene. They’ll keep asking him over and over why he wasn’t coming back, and then they’ll spill everything to his friends. They’ll tell them everything. Then his friends will hate him.
What would they think of him? How would they react?
They’d never forgive him. They’d all be so sickened and--and they’d turn him away. They would never look at him again, they’d never trust him again. Aiden, Maya, Olivia, everyone would hate him. They can’t know about this. He can’t tell them. Not yet, maybe not ever. Not until he finds a way out. There’s always a way out. There’s always a way. There’s always a way--
“Hey, are you feeling alright?”
Jesse’s eyes widened and he shot his head to the side. Olivia was sitting beside him, a worried expression on her face.
“You look pale.” She mumbled.
“Yeah, I’m fine!” Jesse lied with a smile. “Just a bit tired.”
~ ~ ~ ~ ~
“Hopefully we didn’t wake anyone up.” Jess mumbled as he picked up the fallen books. He and Olivia have been spending all afternoon trying to block off the windows and the backdoor. They were trying to adjust the bookshelf, but one thing led to another, and now there’s books everywhere.
“Again, I am so sorry.” Olivia said, hurriedly placing the books back onto the shelf. Why did she even suggest moving the shelf in the first place? It was fine where it was before, but no, she thought it’d be better to push it around and press it against the window. She’d slap herself if her hands weren’t full right now.
Jess slid a few books back into place, “Hey, these things happen. I’m just glad you didn’t get crushed.”
Barricading the first floor has been mostly trial and error. At first they thought it’d be best to block the living room’s window with the armchair and the coffee table placed in front of it, while the backdoor was blocked by the bookshelf. However, Olivia pointed out how easy it would be to push the armchair out of the way--along with the fact that Aiden and his friends might want to access their backyard--so they had to rearrange. Now, they’ve put one of the dining table’s chairs against the backdoor’s knobs, they moved the bookshelf across the floor for the second time, and after they finish picking up all these books, they’ll move the armchair in front of the shelf and finally be done.
Jess grabbed the last book and approached the shelf.
Olivia’s hands were on her hips, she skimmed the hundreds of titles before turning to Jess, “These weren’t placed in alphabetical order, were they?”
“I… Hope not? You know what?” Jess shoved the book into a random spot, “Nothing wrong with changing things up. They’ll be fine. Why don’t we move that chair over and call it a day?”
The two got to it. They pulled the armchair across the living room’s rug, pushed it against the bookshelf, then stood back to get a good look at their work.
Jess smiled, “Gotta say, moving the shelf over here was a good idea. Nice thinkin’!”
Olivia smiled back. She was about ready to plop herself onto the couch and let her aching body rest, but then she noticed the front door from the corner of her eye. It was still unprotected.
Jess watched her move closer to it, studying it.
“Thinking of blocking that too?” He tilted his head.
“Perhaps. We could just use another chair…” She tapped her chin, thinking to herself before her eyes lit up, “Or we could make an intruder system!”
They didn’t have to make it, of course, but Olivia hasn’t worked on a single contraption since she’s been here. She’s so used to having a little side project to keep her busy in her spare time, but in this universe she’s had nothing.
“We don’t want to make it impossible for Aiden and his friends to leave the house, and we hardly have any redstone to work with…” She started pacing back and forth, playing with a strand of her hair as she thought out loud. “Maybe if we make a pressure plate, a trapdoor, and tripwire, it’d be enough to work with. We don’t want anything elaborate.”
Jess took a few more steps back, trying to envision what Olivia’s trap would look like.
“We could make a dispenser! Oh, we could place it over there,” He pointed right beside the shelf, “And--and maybe we could have it fire some arrows! I bet Stella and Gill wouldn’t mind lending us a few!”
“Sure, but I don’t know if they’d let us use the little redstone they have for a dispenser. I’m also afraid that we’ll end up shooting the others.” Olivia had also remembered Cassie hadn't returned from the Nether yet. The last thing she wanted to do was welcome back Cassie Rose with an arrow to her leg.
“Ah, it’s just a few arrows.” Jess said jokingly.
Olivia rolled her eyes, “Either way, I don’t know how effective a dispenser would be if it can’t tell the difference between us and the intruders. Could you imagine if we--”
A sudden knock caused the two to jump back and scatter in different directions.
Jess hid behind the bookshelf. He peeked over and saw Olivia looking right back at him from behind the bar table.
“Why are you over there?” He whisper-shouted.
Olivia sputtered, genuinely baffled over his question, “The same reason you’re hiding over there!” The knocking didn’t scare her too much, it was Jess suddenly taking off that frightened her.
“Sorry, sorry, I was all caught up in the ‘intruder’ thing. Didn’t want us getting spotted, you know?” Jess said. There was another knock.
“But why would an intruder knock on the door?” Olivia asked.
The two blushed, realizing how ridiculous they were being, and stepped out from their hiding spots.
Jess crept closer to the door, leaning forward and peering into the eyehole. The glass had smudges on it, making it tricky to figure out who was on the other side, but he perked up when he recognized that familiar shade of green.
Jess unlocked and swung the door open, a big smile on his face, “Hey, Radar!”
Jess was about to ask why Radar was dropping by, if he wanted to come inside, but he started to see the panic rise, and before he had the chance to reassure Radar, Olivia grabbed his arm and yanked him aside.
“That’s Jess! Jess! Not your Jesse!” Olivia exclaimed.
Radar was clenching his jaw, hugging onto his clipboard, doing whatever he could to hold back his scream. He was probably seconds away from making a run for it.
Olivia clasped her hands together, “We are so sorry about that, we didn’t expect you coming over so early, and--and do you need me to get you something? Water?”
Radar put a finger up, trying to speak, but all that came out was shaky, unfinished sentences.
“I’ll, uh… We’ll give you a moment.” She gave him a small smile, he nodded in return.
She stepped aside, dragging Jess along with her before setting him in place.
“Jess, you can’t just jump out at him like that!” She went off, “You know how he reacts around you, you should know this by now!”
“I know, I know, I’m sorry! I got excited, I wasn’t thinking, I didn’t mean to scare him!” He threw his hands up. He really didn’t. He just got so happy seeing a friendly face after everything that’s happened that he could hardly contain himself.
What was Radar doing here at this time anyways? It’s 6PM, that’s like the crack of dawn for him, isn’t it?
“I understand, but please, you need to slow down. He’s… He gets on edge.” Olivia wouldn’t say it directly, but her tone said it loud and clear. Radar’s afraid of him. It doesn’t matter how nice Jess is, Radar can’t look at him without seeing the other, horrible Jesse.
“I…” Jess started slowly, “I could apologize, but…” He hesitated. Olivia held his hands and lowered them.
“I can apologize for you.” She said, “I think it’d be best if you weren’t... In his view.” She let go of him and hugged herself, “I know you mean well. I’m sorry.”
“No, you’re right. It’s the least I can do for him.” He glanced at the door, “I’ll sit way back in the living room, hopefully that’ll be outta sight for him.”
Olivia watched Jess walk away before going back to Radar, “Hey again, Jess is really sorry about scaring you.”
Radar was fixing the sleeves of his suit, he was still a bit pale, but seemed much better than he was moments before, “It’s--it’s quite alright. I was caught off guard, that's all.”
“Do you want to come inside?” She wasn’t sure if she was allowed to let other people in, but it’s Radar, he’s friends with everyone else.
“Actually, something had happened yesterday and I… I’d like to talk to Aiden. Is he awake? Or Maya? Stella? I need to talk to them, please.” He fixed his posture and placed his arms behind his back.
“Oh, sure! I can get them for you. I’ll be right back.” She nodded before rushing off.
“He needs Aiden.” She told Jess as she passed him.
Olivia hurried up the stairs and turned to the left. She knocked on Aiden’s door, saying his name, making sure not to be too loud. She didn’t want to wake up the others. Though if Aiden didn’t respond, she wouldn’t really have any other choice.
“Come in…” A tired voice called out.
Olivia stepped inside and found Aiden sprawled all over his bed. His legs hung over the edge, sticking out from the blanket that bundled up the rest of his body. His pillow was on the ground beside some dirty clothes and torn papers, so he rested his head on an open journal, where the ink of his latest entry was smeared across the pages.
Aiden raised his head slightly, eyes half closed and hair an absolute mess, “Hey, Liv, whaddaya need?”
Olivia raised her brows at the nickname, but decided not to comment on it.
“Radar stopped by, he needs to talk about something.”
Aiden pushed himself up, his bed shifting and groaning, “Sure, sure, gimme a few… I’ll be right there.” He started combing his hair with his hand.
“You got it.” Olivia quietly left his room and tip-toed down the steps. She got back to the first floor and peaked at Radar, “He’ll be down in a minute!” She told him.
Radar waited outside while Jess sat in the back corner of the living room, flipping through one of the many cookbooks. Olivia decided to join Jess and scanned the recipes with him; she wasn’t sure how Radar felt around her. It’s safest to stay out of his way. She didn’t want to make him stressed.
Aiden soon joined the two downstairs, yawning, adjusting his green top, but stopped when he saw the new arrangement of the living room. He slowly studied the room as he walked towards the entrance, kind of nodding to himself as he took mental notes on the layout.
“Hey Radar, come in.” He opened the door wider.
Radar cautiously stepped inside, scanning the room, “I see you’ve done some… Redecorating.”
“Yup.” Aiden yawned, leaning against the door, closing it. “So what’s up? Don’t mind you comin’ over, but it’s pretty early, even for you.”
“I apologize, but I couldn’t sleep after what I saw yesterday.” Radar fidgeted with his pen, “It’s about Jesse.”
That woke Aiden up.
Radar continued, “I saw him run past my windows. He wasn’t armed, but I know he’s a threat regardless. Were you awar--”
“Yes.” Aiden cut in, “He broke in yesterday.”
“He did?” Radar whispered, eyes widening. “He… Did he…?” He waited for Aiden to tell him more, to explain what happened, but Aiden stood stiffly, facing away.
“Sir, what happened? Did someone get hurt, did you find out why--”
“I don’t want to talk about this.” The aggression in his tone threw Radar off.
Aiden turned away and started heading towards the kitchen, leaving Radar shocked. Jess and Olivia watched from the side.
No.
Jess wasn’t going to let this happen. Aiden’s not getting off that easily.
He shot up from his seat, “If you won’t tell him what happened, I will!”
Aiden and Radar whipped their heads around; a determined and angered look in Jess’ eyes.
“Jess, listen--” Aiden started defensively, “what happened yesterday was out of my control. I didn’t know any of that was going to happen! I just… I wanna move on and find a way to make it up to the others.”
“Move on?” Olivia repeated, “Aiden, it was your fault it happened in the first place! I know you feel bad but--but--have you even apologized to your friends yet?”
Aiden threw his arms out, “I just woke up--!”
“Aiden!” Olivia folded her arms.
“Hold on a moment! Please! Please stop!” Radar stomped his foot down. “Sir, what do they mean it’s ‘your fault’?” He could hardly believe his ears, and seeing Aiden’s guilty expression was making the sinking feeling in his stomach worse.
Aiden stepped back, he bit his lip as everyone watched him, “I lied to Jesse, okay? Remember when I had to get Olivia’s hat back? I told him Stella was looking for it. I couldn’t let him know they were here, or that we somehow found what was left of Olivia. He’d be crushed ”
Radar’s pupils were pinpricks. He didn’t know whether to be scared or repulsed.
“Sir…” He said in a hush, “What--I--I don’t understand why you would do such a thing!”
Radar felt himself shake, he didn’t know if it was because of fear or fury, but he couldn’t make it stop, “Why would you lie? Why would you do that to our friends? To secure the feelings of that--that maniac?!”
Aiden and Radar were going back and forth, neither of them bothering to keep their voices low at this point. Jess and Olivia could hear footsteps coming down the steps, and out came Stella--who froze at the sight of her two friends arguing.
“I’m just trying to help Jesse and everyone else! Things just got out of hand, I didn’t know that was going to happen!” Aiden argued.
“Jesse’s done nothing to prove that he wants your help! All he’s been doing is hurting people and helping The Awakening! He needs to be straightened out first, he needs to get better, even YOU know that!” Radar raised his voice. The main reason Radar and his friends were able to convince Aiden to put Jesse into prison in the first place was because he understood Jesse was a danger to everyone, including himself! Did Aiden think Jesse would somehow become more reasonable the moment he stepped out of his cell!?
A part of Radar feared something like this would happen. He and the others knew all too well how Aiden felt towards Jesse, how he wanted to ‘make it up’ to him, but at what cost?! Radar knows Aiden wants to give him a second chance, he gets that, he does! Aiden and his friends even gave him a second chance. But why… Why did Aiden have to do this?
“How could you put that deranged man’s feelings over your own friends' lives!? He’s horrible! Vile!” Radar snapped.
Radar kept arguing, he kept talking, but Aiden stopped. Aiden stopped listening to Radar. All he did was stare. An anger he’s never felt before was building up inside him. He didn’t shout, he didn’t talk back, he only stared.
Aiden felt his hands curl into fists.
What gave Radar the right to lecture him? To berate Jesse? To act like he knew this situation better than him? That he understood the hardships? How did Radar react when Jesse came around? What did Radar do to help Jess and Olivia? Did he try collecting the items? Try talking to Jesse? Did he try to help them? No. No, all he did was panic, ramble about The Awakening, and cry. He doesn’t get what Aiden’s been through. Jess and Olivia, the stress of The Awakening, Jesse, his friends being furious at him… Radar doesn’t understand a thing.
Aiden stepped closer.
You think out of all the people in this situation, Radar would be the one most willing to try and help Jesse, but no, all he does is accuse Jesse of being ‘ruined’ by The Awakening. Did Radar think having experiences with The Awakening meant he knew everything that’s going on in Jesse’s mind?
He took another step.
Aiden’s been trying to help Jesse for so long, and all he gets are lectures like he’s some damn child. Why? Because he wants to help? To make things better? To get his friend back?
He grew closer.
Radar noticed just how close Aiden was getting. He saw the look in his eyes; he wore an expression Radar's never seen on him before. He saw how stiffly Aiden moved towards him. His eyes darted down to Aiden's hands. They were curled into tight fists; their knuckles white. He hesitantly took a step back.
“Sir, that’s enough.”
Aiden didn’t respond.
Radar took another step back, “Please we… We can’t do this silent treatment right now. Not with something like this!”
Jess and Olivia got to their feet, calling Aiden’s name, but he wasn’t listening. Stella ran back up the stairs. Jess tried to pull Aiden away, but he hardly budged.
Radar felt his back hit the wall.
“This--this isn’t funny!”
Aiden didn’t care.
Radar watched with terror in his eyes. His mind was begging for him to run. He can run. Why isn’t he running. His heart was pounding, he needed to escape, but his body wouldn’t listen. All he could do was watch.
Brenner stepped closer.
The world was starting to spin. Radar shrunk down. Everything was blurring together. His eyes darted around, desperately searching for something, anything familiar. He could make out the vague silhouettes of people, columns, benches. People. There were so many. There’s so many people. Why are they looking at him. Why aren’t they helping. Why are they watching.
They’re on him.
Their eyes are on him.
He can feel them.
He felt the palm of his hands press against the cold wood of the stage. Sweat dribbled down his face as the heat of the redstone torches grew stronger. He could hear the creaking of the floorboards as Brenner came closer. His shadow looming over him.
Radar curled in on himself, shielding his eyes from the people, from the Vision, but he could still feel the eyes. The rows upon rows of benches filled with members, their faces filled with disgust, disappointment, and betrayal. He tried to keep his eyes on the ground. Only the ground. Anytime he’d peek up he’d see flashes of the shrine’s old columns, the carvings, the red glow that consumed the room, the eyes.
Why was he here?
Why was he here?
How did he get here? He shouldn’t be here. Why was he here. He shouldn’t be here. He shouldn’t be here.
Radar hugged himself, trembling as tears spilled down his face. Please. Please he’ll do anything. Please forgive him. Please, it’ll never happen again. Let him be safe. He didn’t mean to run away. He won’t leave again. He’s so sorry. Please.
Brenner raised his arm.
Aiden was suddenly jerked back. He stumbled and looked behind. Maya was gripping onto his shoulder, glaring.
“What the hell are you doing?” Her grip tightened.
Aiden slowly blinked. He turned his head to Radar, who was on the floor, nails digging into his skin as he sobbed, apologizing over and over.
“I don’t…” He started, but his words fell apart. What was he doing?
He stared at his hands then back to Radar. He wasn’t even thinking. He scared him. He scared his own friend.
“Radar…” Aiden tried to kneel down and comfort him, but Radar flinched and hid his face.
Maya pulled Aiden away, her glare unwavering.
Aiden didn’t know what to say. He couldn’t defend himself. There wasn’t any excuse. He… He made Radar break down. He ruined him. He felt like he was going to vomit.
“Radar, can you hear me?” Maya said carefully, letting go of Aiden.
She took slow steps, barely being able to make out his apologies and pleas. “Do you know this place? Do you know where you are?”
Radar shook his head. He couldn’t tear his hands away from his eyes. People were staring at him. He hated the eyes. He hated them.
Maya sat down, the floor groaning under her weight, “You’re in the living room.” Jess, Olivia, Stella, and Aiden watched from afar as she continued, “You’re in our house, in the living room. There’s a shelf nearby, we still got all those books you gave us as a thank you gift, the armchair’s leaning, the kitchen is nearby, your friends are here. You’re not in a shrine, you’re nowhere near one. You’re safe. Nothing can hurt you here.”
Aiden sharply inhaled hearing those last words. His heart ached.
Radar’s breathing was finally slowing. They were still shaky, but they were slowing. With a trembling hand, he felt around for his glasses, which Maya helped him find.
He lifted his head off the ground, his face red, hair ruined, and eyes puffy. He scanned the room as he put his glasses back on. His vision was blurry with tears, but he could make out the colors of Maya, Aiden, and Stella.
“I… I… I need…” He hiccuped, “T… To g--go… Go to…”
“Deep breaths. Take your time.”
Radar inhaled, “Y… Your ro… Your room… Pl… Please. Please.”
“Course you can go. I don’t mind.” Maya was about ready to help Radar to his feet, but Radar had already gotten up and made a run for it, leaving his clipboard, pen, and friends behind. They could hear his steps hitting the boards above, then Maya’s door slamming shut.
It didn’t take long for another set of steps to come downstairs. Gill came in, his injured shoulder banaged, with a confused expression on his face, “Was that Radar?”
Maya sat on the floor for a moment, nodding slowly. Her quiet breaths turned heavy as she stood back up, gritting her teeth, trying to hold back her fury towards Aiden, her pain for Radar. She and Stella stormed over to Aiden and didn’t waste another second. Stella raised her voice, demanding to know what was he thinking--what was WRONG with him?! And each word Maya hissed out hurt Aiden more than the last. Aiden didn’t try to argue--what could he even say? He could barely process his own actions.
The girls were tearing into Aiden, Gill tried to settle everyone down despite being completely lost, while Jess had his eyes on the stairs. There was a tugging feeling in his chest.
He needed to go to Radar.
He had to check on him. He’d never forgive himself if he didn’t.
Jess was about to take off, but Olivia pulled him back.
“Where are you going?!” Olivia asked, getting the others’ attention.
“I gotta--I need to make sure Radar’s okay!” It didn’t matter if it was ‘his’ Radar or not, he hated seeing him--seeing anyone--like that.
“Jess, he’s scared of you!”
“I know, but--” Jess shook his head, “He’s still a person!” He slipped out of her grasp and rushed up the steps. He heard footsteps from behind. His eyes flickered over his shoulder and saw Maya, a scowl and a frigid glare on her face. He didn’t know if she was angry at everything going on or just at him, but she looked mad.
When Jess reached the top, he skidded to halt and quickly turned around, “Maya!” He said through quick pants, “Please--Please don’t stop me. I just… I need to check on him, please!”
“I’m not gonna stop you.” Maya’s brows lowered, “I want to be there for him too. I know you mean well. You can try to talk to him, but I’m gonna be standing by. To be safe.” Her shoulders slouched. She didn’t sound too sure of her decision, but she couldn’t back down from it now.
Jess nodded. There was that part of him that knew he could make things worse. That he could make Radar worse, even if he wanted to do something good. The mere thought of it was already forming a lump in Jess’ throat.
He walked down the hall, Maya followed behind, her long pajama pants dragging across the floor. He didn’t even know where Maya’s room was, but he didn’t need to ask. He followed the sound of sobs, hiccups, and nonsense until they stopped in front of the door where the noise was loudest. Enough light was spilling through the cracks to illuminate a portion of the hall. They could see Radar’s quivering shadow; he was sitting against the door.
The two could barely make out what he was saying. Mumbles of reassurance and descriptions of Maya’s room were merging together.
Maya leaned against the wall and motioned her head, urging Jess to take the next step.
Jess swallowed and extended his arm. He knocked on the door.
“Radar?” He pressed his head against the wood, “Are you doing okay?”
Radar’s rambling stopped. Jess could hear his loud, uneven breaths.
“N… Ye--Yes. I’ll be fine.” He stuttered, “I need--I need to collect myself. I’m sorry you… I’m sorry you saw… You saw me like that.”
“What? No, Radar, you have nothing to apologize for.” Jess said, “What Aiden did back there was horrible. I’m sorry he did that to you. I’m glad Maya was there to help us just in time.” He gave Maya a small grin.
Radar mumbled a weak ‘Yes’, and it was silent for a moment.
Jess’ hands rested against the door, “Do you… Do you wanna talk? It doesn’t have to be about this, we can talk about anything. And--and I know you’re not all that comfortable around me, so I can get one of your friends if you’d like!”
“We can. We can talk.” Radar’s frightened tone didn’t reassure Jess, “I left… I left my clipboard. They’re not here. Talking is… It’s better.”
“I could get them for you--”
Radar cut in, “No, no. No, I want to. I want to talk. Please. Please, I want someone.”
“Alright. I’m not going anywhere. I’m staying right here.” Jess sat on the floor, “What’s been on your mind?”
“I had--I had to turn all the lights on. It’s such a waste. I’m wasting it all.” Radar sniffled, “Maya will hate me.”
“Hey, don’t say that. Maya’s not gonna hate you for using her lights. Has she gotten mad about that before?” Jess tried to steer the talk to a more positive light. Anything to get Radar’s mind to a better place.
“No. No, she hasn’t.”
“See?” Jess smiled softly, “Do the lights help you calm down? Do you not like the dark--?”
“No.” If only Jess could see how wide Radar’s eyes were.
“Is it…” Jess paused, thinking carefully about his next words, “Is it because of… The group?”
“Yes, and--and it’s ridiculous!” Radar banged his head against the door, making Jess and Maya jump. “It’s childish, it’s been--it’s been years! How incompetent am I!? It’s been half--it’s been--it’s been nearly five years, and I’m behaving like a child!” Radar pulled on his hair. He’s acting worse than a child. He’s an adult crying over the past. How can he behave like this? It’s embarrassing. It’s unforgivable.
“No, no it’s not!” Jess exclaimed. Maya was about ready to step in. “People have different reactions to these situations! To memories--heck! I can get real defensive and snappy! It’s okay! It’s not… It doesn’t make you incompetent. Don’t tell yourself that.”
Radar stopped thrashing. He had to. He didn’t want to hurt himself.
He did what he could to steady his breaths, slowly letting go of his hair, “I’m sorry.”
“You got nothing to apologize for.” Jess said. Maya was still standing straight, still on edge, not taking her eyes off her room.
“I don’t think it matters how long ago it was.” Jess brought his knees to his chest, “It still affects you. Something could’ve happened years ago, and even when you think you’ve moved past it, it comes back.” He stared at the floor, thinking of the Witherstorm. Thinking of the countless stormy nights where he laid wide awake in bed, too afraid that if he were to drift off to sleep, his friends would get taken and the world would wither away. He thought about Sky City, about the White Pumpkin, the Games, the Admin. He’s been through so much, he’s faced and defeated so many enemies, he’s become the mayor of an entire town, yet he’s terrified at the sound of thunder.
“I don’t know how or when you joined that… That group, but they hurt you. They’re still hurting you, and I’m sorry for what they’ve done.” Jess hugged his knees.
It was silent for a minute. Radar took off his glasses, being careful with the tape holding onto one of the hinges, and rubbed his eyes.
“You wouldn’t mind if… If I rambled, would you?”
“Hey, I’m here to listen.”
For a moment, Radar didn’t respond. He didn’t say anything else. Then, the doorknob clicked. He cracked it open and cautiously slipped his hand through.
Jess stared at it. Hesitantly, he reached forward and held onto Radar’s hand, and Radar gently squeezed back.
Maya took a step away, making sure she wasn’t in Radar’s sight.
“I joined after… After my mother’s death.” Radar said softly.
Jess’ mouth parted. A burning feeling filled his chest.
“I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be, it was years ago.” His voice quivered.
“You don’t gotta talk about this if you don’t want to.”
“It’s all that’s on my mind.”
Radar’s hand twitched in Jess’ grasp. He took a deep breath and slowly exhaled.
“I don’t remember who convinced me, I don’t think I ever knew them, but--but they were so nice.” Saying that out loud made Radar feel disgusting. Vile. “They were so nice, Jess. All of them. When… When I first came in, they all treated me so kindly, like we were already so close. Like I was a real member.” Radar vividly recalled the magic he experienced walking into the shrine for the first time. The decor, the liveliness, the friendly smiles. He remembered how bright and warm the shrine was despite being below ground. He remembered how everyone wanted to greet him, wanted to know him, how everyone was able to cheer him up and sympathize when he first stuttered on stage, he remembered it all.
“I know it’s--it sounds terrible. It is terrible, The Awakening’s done so many awful things, but they helped me. I--” Radar stopped. He tugged at his tie. It felt so tight. “I’m not sure if the care was ever genuine. Maybe… Maybe it was, or maybe it was a lie I fell for, but it was nice.” He paused, “Other members had experienced the same loss, or they had been left by loved ones, or some just… They wanted a friend.”
“And The Awakening was like a community for lonely people?” Jess mumbled.
“For anyone.” Radar replied. He heard Jess move around on the other side, getting into a more comfortable position. “Any one was welcomed. Citizens, guards, children, people came from all over. It was like a family. Everyone would come in, say hello, talk about their weeks, they’d all hug each other, and…” He swallowed, “If someone ever looked down, we’d all get close and offer our support.” Radar thought back to those moments and how… Unsettling they seemed now. He thought back to the moments he’d cry in the shrine, and how slowly, more and more members would surround him, letting him weep as they held onto him, hugging him, their hands on him as all he did was wept. Radar felt a shiver of discomfort run down his spine.
“Did you have any friends back there before Aiden and the others?” Jess asked.
Radar stopped.
“Just one.”
Jess waited for Radar to add on, but he didn’t want to.
“How long were you with The Awakening?”
“A few years,” Radar replied, “but it felt much longer than that. I always stayed after the Gatherings to speak with the Visions. I helped them--I loved helping them. Isn’t that awful?” Of course it was awful. He didn’t need Jess to tell him that. “Ce--Th--The friend and I, we always did what the Visions told us to do. We’d get so happy when they thanked us. I worked so hard for them, even when I knew how dangerous it was, I pushed myself.”
Radar thought back to the days where he stood before the Visions, proudly declaring his accomplishments, and how the Visions would praise him. Even the days where he’d return torn and bloody, the Visions didn’t care. They wouldn’t judge him. They wouldn’t scold him for getting blood on the shrine’s floors, they focused on him. His abilities. What he was capable of.
“I hardly know a thing about these Visions.” Jess spoke, “They’re the leaders, right?. Were they good? Well, nice? Nice to a point?”
“Until I left, yes.” His grip weakened, “They never cared about the trivial things. My height, my horrible vision, how weak I seemed, they couldn’t see it.”
“They’re blind?”
Radar nodded, “They are. They are.”
Radar’s lip quivered, “They always listened to me, they--they’d let me cry and--and--they’d give me guidance because they believed in me.” He tried to control himself, but tears were starting to spill from his eyes again, “No one’s ever told me that before. No one. They-th--they couldn’t see it. How happy it made me. No one ever believed in me.”
Memories of the Visions were pushed away as soon as they arose. From Mahlon’s kind words, Antonin’s uplifting spirits, and Brenner’s support, any ounce of positivity was pushed back inside the depths of Radar’s mind. That’s who they used to be. They don’t love him anymore, and he can’t love them. That’s not them anymore. He left them. He had to.
“I wanted to prove myself and--and prove that I was worth their time. I--I’d push myself and I was so terrible. I’m still so terrible.”
Jess tried to help him, “Radar, don’t say that--”
“You don’t understand! I miss them!” Radar cried out, pulling his hand out of Jess’, “I know it’s wrong, I know I--I shouldn’t, but I--I’ll… I’ll stay up some days and… And I’ll feel so awful for leaving. The Visions are disappointed and I left--I left--” He covered his face, “They all despise me. I shouldn’t--I shouldn’t care, they’re horrible! They don’t care about me! They hurt me and--and my friends, I shouldn’t miss them! I shouldn’t. I just--The thoughts come to me, and--and I think--I don’t want to think this way. I don’t want to think about them! I don’t want to!” His words devolved into sobs.
“H… How… How selfish can I… Can I get?”
Jess and Maya listened to him sob on the other side. There was a pained expression on Maya’s face as all she could do was stare at the floor and listen.
Jess slowly looked up at Maya, blinking before turning back to Radar.
“Do… Do any of your friends know about this?”
Radar wiped his tears, speaking through gasps, “No, Heavens no. I could--I could never tell them about this--about any of this.”
“Radar, they’re your friends.” Jess said, “They’re here for you, they care about you.”
“I know.” Radar answered.
“If you can tell me, you can tell them, right?”
Radar shook his head, “It’s different with you.” He fixed his glasses, “You won’t be here forever. You’ll be leaving eventually. You’ll take all of this with you.” That sounded horrible, didn’t it? “I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be.”
Radar opened his mouth, debating on whether to say his next words.
“I think… I think they hate me.”
Maya’s nails dug into her arms.
Before Jess could ask, Radar went on.
“They hate the Awakening. They hated me when I was a part of it--I--I don’t blame them, but I’m waiting.” Radar sounded so weak. Jess watched Radar’s hand slowly come back out of the crack.
“I’m waiting. One day they’ll… They’ll all tell me they’ve never liked me. They were just pretending to. Then they’ll finally leave, and I’ll never see them again.” His voice cracked, “How could they… Why would they accept me? How could they love someone like me?”
“Because they forgave you.” Jess gently moved his hand back on top of Radar’s, “Because you worked hard to change and get better, and they see that.” At least, that’s what Jess believed. He wasn’t there to witness any of this. He didn’t know what happened. He didn’t know what Radar went through or what he was like before. “If they didn’t like you, they would’ve said something, they would’ve made it clear, but from what I’ve seen, they care about you.” He wrapped his fingers around Radar’s hands, “I know we haven’t been around each other much, but you’re a good person, Radar. Anyone can see that.”
“Thank you.” Radar didn’t sound like he believed him.
Jess didn’t want to leave Radar like this.
“Is there anything I can do to help?”
“No, no. You listened. That’s all I could ask for. Thank you.”
“Of course.” Jess got to his feet, Radar’s hand gently slipping out of his. He moved slowly, trying to think of any way to make Radar feel better, to say one last positive thing, but nothing came to his mind. What a terrible feeling that filled him with.
Radar began to close the door again, but stopped when just a sliver remained.
“Please don’t tell the others about this.”
Jess and Maya locked eyes, “I won’t. Will you… Will you try to tell your friends eventually?”
“I’ll see.” His hands trembled at the thought, “I’ll rest and… And I’ll think about it. Thank you again.”
And with that, he closed the door.
Jess and Maya stared at it, listening to Radar’s steps grow farther, hearing the creaking of a bed, then silence.
Jess looked over to Maya, raising his hand slightly, wanting to say something, but she kept her head down and made her way to the stairs. Jess followed.
“He needs some time alone.” Maya muttered. Jess could hear the quiver in her voice. “I’m gonna talk with Aiden. I’ll check up on Radar in a few.”
Maya then stopped and leaned against the wall, rubbing her eyes, “Thanks for talkin’ to him, Jess. I mean it.”
#mcsm#minecraft story mode#mcsm jesse#mcsm olivia#mcsm radar#mcsm aiden#mcsm maya#AUGUHUG LOVED WRITIN THIS#TOOK EONS BUT WORTH IT#enjoyenjoyenjoyyyyyyyyy#[it is late i shall zzzzzz soon]#fic
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