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#weekly story
gelifish33 · 10 months
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Lore Edits Wk. 4
It’s that time of week again, readers! Edits happened. More or less without my consent, the week passed and edits happened. Chapters ten through twelve are complete. Here’s the thoughts off the top of my head: Ashby, Ashby, Ashby. The dramatics just don’t stop with him. We covered the end of the carnival, a nearly deadly stab wound, and then family members moving in to interrupt his attempt…
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saccharinerose · 7 months
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Furina: Anyone I've ever worked with probably couldn't wait to get rid of me... Since I'm just an ordinary person now. They'll probably just laugh in my face if I go asking them for help... :(
Neuvillette, the second Furina asks him about booking the Opera Epiclese, the process for which is notably cumbersome and complex: Yes, I will take care of it immediately. Btw does this mean you will allow audiences (myself included) to enjoy your outstanding acting talents once more? 🥺
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tripp-pants-sora · 1 month
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Me: I dunno spotify I just feel real low
my spotify, infected with a virus that makes it constantly recommend electro swing: would some electro swing help
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the-golden-vanity · 13 days
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I'm sure this has already been said, but we need a proper prestige TV adaptation of Moby-Dick. For 10 minutes out of every episode, it becomes a nature documentary about whales.
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aliencatart · 3 months
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so the story goes....
seriously such an amazing series and i'm going to be missing these kings very dearly
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anony-geist · 1 year
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Melville himself apparently thought of Moby-Dick as a man's book and wrote to one of his female friends, Sara Moorehead, to dissuade her from reading it for fear of offending her feminine sensibilities: "Dont you buy it—dont even read it, when it does come out, because it is by no means the sort of book for you. It is not a piece of fine, feminine, Spitalfield silk—but is of the horrible texture of a fabric that should be woven of ship's cables and hausers.[2]" When Sophia Hawthorne wrote to Melville praising the book, his response was one of astonishment: "I have hunted up the finest Bath I could find, gilt-edged and stamped, whereon to inscribe my humble acknowledgment of your highly flattering letter of the 29th of Dec:—It really amazed me that you should find any satisfaction in that book. It is true that some men have said they were pleased with it but you are the only woman—for as a general thing, women have small taste for the sea.[3]" "Next time," Melville tells Sophia, he shall not send her a "bowl of salt water. . . . The next chalice I shall commend, will be a rural bowl of milk." He then inquires politely about the state of her "domestic affairs."[4] Melville's remarks to these women suggest that he was working under certain gender-determined notions of genre.
Content warning: This book contains the horrible texture of a fabric that should be woven of ship's cables and hausers.
I don't think it's just something period-typical because it implies it now isn't, gender-determined notions of genre are still a thing around the world.
I do feel that in Moorehead's place, I'd have gone WELL NOW I'M GONNA. It's funny to me that in general the boys in my American Literature class would comment things like how it's mostly boring (you don't get it) or about how this is about the national identity of a young country, meanwhile girls would pipe in about multiple facets.
Amerilit girlies: I have so much to say about Moby Dick!
Herman: absolutely flabbergasted
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marlynnofmany · 3 months
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The Good Perch
“You would think,” Captain Sunlight said drily, “That a spaceport organized enough to have a whole section for courier ships would have a more visible labeling system.”
“Yeah, really,” I agreed with a frown at the small sign marking our ship’s berth. The thing was barely ankle-height and a thin font. Not even a bright color; it hardly stood out from the pavement in its gray-and-black subtlety. With all the spacefarers parading past in a rainbow of body types and clothing styles, not to mention the equally wild spaceships everywhere, those signs were easy to miss. I asked the captain, “Have you been here before? Is this normal, or did the wrong person take charge of designing things?”
“It’s been a while,” said Captain Sunlight, crossing her scaly arms. “I don’t recall this being a problem before. But I suspect our wayward client is still wandering the walkways looking for us.”
“Normally I’d say our ship would stand out, but the visibility’s not great for that either.” Lemon-shaped spaceships with foldable solar sails were pretty uncommon. The one parked behind us would have been easy to spot from a distance if not for the larger ships looming close on either side. These berths were too close together.
Captain Sunlight pulled her phone out of a belt pouch. “Still says they’re on the way.”
“Maybe we need to scoot forward a bit?” I suggested. “Make the ship easier to see?” I stepped up to the walkway for a better look at the view from there.
This turned out to give someone else a better view of me.
“Hey, person who climbs things!” called a cheerful voice. “Come help me brace this.”
After a confused half-second, I located the speaker on top of the gray-brown ship next to ours. I realized with a start that this wasn’t the first time our ships had been parked side-by-side. “Hey, Acorn!” I called back. “Are you waiting for clients too?”
“We were,” the fellow courier called back, waving something that looked like a wrench. She herself still looked like a baboon crossed with a crocodile. “Now it’s time for errands and maintenance, and this needs fixing before we get back into space. Care to give me a hand? Everybody else is either busy or too much of a coward to get up this high.”
“Sure thing!” I said with a glance at Captain Sunlight, who was waving me on. “What’s the best way up?”
Acorn directed me to a row of handholds on the other side of the ship, which made for a nice easy climb. A pity her crewmates didn’t appreciate heights; the spaceport was a beautiful, chaotic sprawl of color from here. And the top of the ship was flat enough to feel plenty safe.
“Welcome to the good perch,” Acorn said, offering me a wrench. “It’s a very exclusive club. Can you hold this part in place so I can adjust that?”
“Absolutely,” I told her. “This end, right? Wait, got it.” I actually had no idea what this open panel was for, but I like to think I hid it well. The job was a simple one with two of us. I could see how it would have been awkward with just one, though. I wondered if she’d resorted to using her feet to hold things in place. I sure would have.
“Got it!” she said. “Now to close it all up. I knew that would be quick.”
I removed the wrench. “What’s the saying? More hands means less work?”
“Makes sense to me. Though by that logic, your friend there could get everything done by himself.”
I looked down to see that Mur had joined Captain Sunlight, in all his many-tentacled squidlike glory. “He probably could, actually. Though I don’t know how he is with heights.”
“Well, no need to share the good perch,” Acorn announced, snapping the panel shut. She spread her arms. “Look at this panorama!”
“It is a nice one! I was just thinking that. What kind of ship is that blobby green one over there? I haven’t seen it before.”
Acorn stood up for a better look. “I think it’s a Waterwill design?”
“That makes sense.” I got to my feet too, glad the ship we stood on wasn’t one of the shiny racer models. Those were much too slippery to make good sightseeing towers.
Not that Acorn seemed bothered either way. She probably would have found grippy shoes somewhere and run up the side just to prove she could. Her appreciation for climbing had been a nice change the first time I ran into her, and was no different now, given how much time I spent among alien crewmates who didn’t have tree-swinging monkeys in their family trees.
“That ship looks like it would make an excellent climbing structure,” she said, pointing at a pink model with grooves along the sides. “Pity it belongs to a security force who are likely to be uptight about such things.”
I laughed. “Isn’t that always the way of it? There’s a police station in my hometown with a roof that slopes down to meet a very climbable wall, and you have no idea how tempting it looked. Well. Maybe you know.”
She definitely understood, and we spent an enjoyable few minutes talking about which buildings and spaceships looked like the most fun to climb.
Then I spotted someone wandering from one berth marker to the next, looking both lost and a little nearsighted, and I had a suspicion that I’d found our missing client. This was a fellow human wearing the kind of drapey clothes that spoke of dignity and no little wealth. Her expression was exactly the kind I’d wear if I had to deal with those hard-to-read signs long enough to be late.
“Hey Captain!” I called down to Sunlight. “Is that her?” I pointed.
Captain Sunlight hurried forward with her phone out, matching the look of the person with an image there.
Yup. Called it.
Acorn chuckled while the pair of them exchanged greetings and complaints about the station layout. “Nice one. The wisdom of the heights strikes again. Do they need you down there now?”
“Probably,” I said. “Actually not yet, this package is a small one. Mur’s got it.” As I spoke, Mur pushed a hovercart forward with a box on it liberally covered in “fragile” stickers. It had a carrying handle on the top, which it had come with, and rubber bumpers on every corner, which Paint had added just to be safe. All precautions had been taken.
“Oh good,” Acorn said. “Then enjoy the view with me a little longer.” She bent to pull something from the toolbag’s side pocket. “Top-of-the-tree snack?”
“Are those the ones you’re named for?” I asked, remembering a conversation the last time I’d seen her. Translations being what they were, her name meant a similar nut from her homeworld. It had been an amusing conversation, since we were both named after things found in trees. She didn’t know what a robin was, but once I explained it, she claimed to have met a number of people back home with similar names.
“Yes, the salted version,” Acorn said, opening the bag. “I recall these were on the safe list for your species.”
“Safe and tasty,” I agreed. “Thank you.” I accepted a handful of alien acorns and marveled quietly at how universal salt was on snacks. Well, for some species. I don’t think Waterwills or Strongarms were that into overly salty food in general. Probably for slug-like reasons. Eggskin the medic would know. I should ask him later.
Acorn peered over the other side of the ship. “Ohh, Riverbrook’s wearing his goofy helmet. I owe him some acoustics since he played that loud music while I was working.” She crouched, peering down at a crewmate who had just emerged. With care, she selected a nut from the bag. “Think you can thwack him from here?” The grin she threw over her shoulder was full of teeth.
I joined her at the edge. “I like my odds.”
The crewmate was one of those people made of crystals instead of flesh. I forget the species name. Very interesting to look at, and unlikely to be hurt by a high velocity acorn no matter where it hit. The helmet was golden, shiny, and probably a fashion statement of some kind.
“First we throw, then we hide.”
“Got it.”
“One, two, throw!”
Ping! Ping!
“Ow, what was — Acorn, is this yours?!”
We both giggled in childlike glee, just out of sight.
“No thanks, you can have it!” Acorn called back.
“I’m going to put this in your fruit drink next mealtime.”
“Good luck with that!”
I nodded. “Ah, a prank war. A noble pursuit.”
“See, you get it.” Acorn offered me more nuts.
I took them and made myself more comfortable. “I don’t suppose you know what a rattlesnake is?”
“Nope.”
“Then let me tell you about the time I got Trrili — the big scary Mesmer on my ship — with a classic prank from Earth.”
“Oh, do tell!”
I didn’t have to get back to my ship for a few minutes yet, which left plenty of time for more anecdotes and snacks on the good perch.
~~~
The ongoing backstory adventures of the main character from this book. More to come! And I am currently drafting a sequel!
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chuluoyi · 1 month
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LE gojo going "*sigh* my ears have been blessed." Whenever he hears reader laughing
PFFTT so happening🥹 and he’s not keeping that to himself, he’s telling it to the next person beside him… who happens to be nanami💁🏻‍♀️
“my ears have been blessed~” he sighs dreamily.
“what?”
“she just laughed… nanamin, isn’t her voice just like angel’s? i still can’t believe it—i married her!”
“gojo-san… i don’t want to be rude but—”
“just agree with me, nanamin!”
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sentienttoastah · 2 months
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Ahoy. More Moby art. I am definitely not obsessed with this whale or his book, and no I am not secretly Ahab.
But if I ever end up making 5 Moby Dick related artwork posts in a row should I just make it a daily thing? Like Moby Dick Daily? Daily dose of Moby? How do I make it not sound weird without calling it simply whale weekly.
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Also, I hid a little easter egg on the skiff (yes the little dark thing there is supposed to be a skiff) it’s hard to see but maybe you can spot it if you zoom enough :]
I’m getting bored of posting about just the whale. Next time, I’ll try my hand at drawing the crew maybe?
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If u ever feel bad about yourself know that today at work I got so invested in a debate we were having surrounding whether social media was a good or a bad thing, that I loudly exclaimed "there's no library writing group that wants to read about my two favourite fictional guys kissing" and then had to exist while everyone stared at me like I'd grown two heads
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carpetbug · 5 months
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ML Feline Blue AU Chapter Two: The Pont des Arts
1 • 2 [tw: blood and slightly gory imagery]
ao3
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The last time Marinette had felt such paralyzing anxiety as she traveled towards the Pont de Arts was middle school. It was the day she realized she had a crush on Kim, and Socqueline - her best friend at the time, who left Francois’s Dupont at the end of 8th grade - had almost immediately shut down the immature day dream that was their future together. Still, Marinette had made her way to the bridge after school to stare at the locks of all the couples that had been here before her and conjure up sickeningly sweet fake scenarios of her new heartthrob. The craziest thing she had done that day was silently wish that Kim would magically reciprocate her romantic feelings, and still it had felt like she was walking some invisible tightrope, putting her life on the line for some spectacular balancing act she knew she could never pull off. She can still remember the way her hands shook and stomach churned while she perused the locks that decorated the bridge's walls. The fear she felt that day, that heavy stone of discomfort that lodged itself in her stomach, she felt it now all the same. Only this time, instead of feeling like she was merely risking her life, she could have sworn she was marching straight to death's door. And the miniature ladybug creature, this ‘kwami’, was doing little to put her unease to bed.
“You’re not listening, are you Marinette?” the alien-like red bug questioned delicately with a slight inflection to her already syrupy voice. Her eyes softened with guilt when Marinette met her expression with a lost look, lips parted slightly as she struggled to respond.
“I-I’m sorry.. uh.. Tek…?”
“Tikki” the small bug smiled patiently.
“Right. Tikki. I’m sorry Tikki” Marinette sighed and adjusted her hold on the miracle box. What a guardian she would be, she couldn’t even remember this kwamis name. How was she supposed to do.. well, everything else?
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“I died. That old man pushed me into the seine and I died.” Marinette stammered in disbelief as her limbs pushed her away from these freaks of nature without waiting for her brain's command.
“Don’t be scared, Marinette! We’re your friends!” The ladybug themed creature said reassuringly, dropping the intense tone with which she was speaking seconds prior. She, along with all the other small beings, floated effortlessly in the air. “I am Tikki, the kwami of creation. We aren’t going to hurt you, Master”
“Master?” Marinettes throat went bone dry as the words rattled her brain. She was their master? “Oh my god I’ve actually lost my mind.” She chuckled under her breath. The chuckle morphed to a steady laughter, and soon enough she was doubled over in hysterics, hands clutching her sides so tightly she could feel her nails digging into her ribcage. “That OLD man PUSHED me into the SEINE and I DIED!” She shouted in a side-splitting roar of laughter.
“Good job Sugarcube, now she’s having a breakdown.” Marinette heard a much more sour voice taunt. Suddenly what seemed like a million more voices chirped in, each unique in its pitch and pronunciation, and each more desperate to be heard than the last. She could only hear broken sentences and words through the plethora of noise from the kwamis and her own uncontrollable laughter, an occasional ‘We’re doomed!’ and ‘Master Fu!’ catching her ear.
“Just hush, Plagg!” the ladybug scoffed in annoyance. She darted closer to Marinette, small fin-like arm extending to pat her shoulder in a comforting gesture. “Tune them out Marinette, you simply need time. Your bravery will surface soon.” She tried to soothe the frantic girl before returning her attention to the other beings. “Everyone, please listen! We can’t do this now, not to her.” Tikki spoke sternly, yet the words hung in the air like a plea. “I.. I’m certain none of us are ready to speak about Master Fu," a dejected tone began to cling to her small voice as she continued “But he wants us to go forward. And he needs us to guide the new guardian”. Marinette looked up as her voice began to catch in her throat, a pang of pity shooting through her unstable heart at the sight of the tears beginning to pool in the small beings eyes.
“Master Fu?” Marinette repeated softly, peeling her hands off her body and standing up from the rough cement platform that offered her safety. With a powerful shudder she became painfully aware that she was still soaked from the seine. Her hands traveled up to her hair, removing the smooth ribbon that held together her right pigtail - the left had come undone in the water. “Is that... was that the old man?” She asked the kwamis with a weary tone, eyes trained on her soggy shoes as her hands wrung out her dark hair of the water still wearing it down. “Why did he-?”
“Throw you in a river?” the sour voice chimed in again. It belonged to the black cat, who was now floating leisurely on his back with a yawn. Marinette was almost certain she could see sharp teeth in the kwamis mouth. Tikki shot him a deathly glare, but he went on. “I’m Plagg, kwami of destruction, lover of cheese” He stated with casual disinterest, as if nothing traumatic had just occurred. “Not his smartest move, I’ll agree. But-” he sat upright and narrowed his eyes, voice taking a more serious tone “-he did what he had to do to keep us all safe.” his long tail flicked, motioning to the other kwamis. “That includes you.”
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“I was telling you about the kwamis, '' Tikki chirped, following by her guardian's side while levitating in the air. Marinette nodded, quickly glancing up to check what street they had reached, then darting her eyes back down to the wooden box she had hugged to her chest. It was getting harder and harder to focus on the bugs' words, her mind occupied only with thoughts of Master Fu. Despite the kwamis, and the freezing water that seems to have seeped into her bones, and the distressed voices in her head yelling at her that she was alone in this, Marinette couldn’t shake the idea that this man was still alive. He would be waiting at the Pont de Arts, ready to retrieve his miracle box and kwamis, and he'd reassure her that she would never have to worry about any of this miraculous nonsense ever again. Marinette wasn’t going to find his body. She wouldn’t.
“There's nineteen kwamis in all, but two of us are missing. Nooro and Duusu are the kwamis of transmi-”
“Tikki, I’m- I can’t-” Marinette bit her tongue as she fought to find the right words.
“What is it Marinette?”
“I’m sorry but I just can’t talk about this with you. It’s just… too much” Marinette mumbled, wishing the earth would open up beneath her and swallow her whole. “Can’t this Master Fu just explain things to me when we find him?”
Tikki blinked in surprise and remained silent for a few seconds. Then, she nodded and feigned a weak smile. “Of course Marinette. If we find Master Fu he will explain everything” she reassured.
Marinette nodded absentmindedly, taking another brief glimpse at the street signs and sighing in relief at seeing they were close to their destination. Suddenly this all felt like some sort of fever dream, like she would go home and sleep tonight then wake up in the morning with nothing changed. Except maybe she would always think about being thrown in the seine, the cold and brutal water that had seeped through her skin, leaving her fingertips wrinkled and pruny against the wood of the miracle box. And sure, it might feel real enough that her knees still wobble a bit as she walks, but everyone has horrible nightmares sometimes - right?
“Marinette”
“One second, Tikki” she stopped the kwami, still stuck in her train of thought.
“Marinette!” Tikki had paused, and Marinette turned her head to see the small red kwami floating, arm extended to point at the bridge that suddenly seemed to appear in front of them. When had they gotten here?
“Oh. Great, we’re here! Let’s find this Fu-Man and let me get home so I can go to bed and forget all about this.” She adjusted her hold on the box and began to cross the wide bridge when Tikki darted in front of her with urgency.
“Wait! Master, I must tell you, thi-”
“Sorry, but please just call me Marinette.”
Tikki smiled and continued “Marinette, I have to quickly warn you that- even we kwamis are not sure of the lengths this villain is willing to go. We do not know if he acts with mercy, so this may be something you don’t want to see. If you’d like, I can go ahead without you and see for myself then come back?”
Marinette scrunched her nose as she thought for a few moments. Eventually she shook her head and smiled- a genuine and kind smile that made Tikkis heart ache. “No need, I’ll come with you. You’ve been here for me during all this, so I want to be here for you until you’re back in good hands” she promised.
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“He was being chased?” Marinette questioned, reeling from the information the cat kwami had just dumped over her head like cold water. Fu had been pursued by some unknown antagonist for several weeks, until they eventually found and attacked the guardian. Marinette had only been an innocent bystander, a stranger in the wrong place at the wrong time, and a helping hand when Fu was at his most desperate for any kind of savior. She was the only way to get the miracle box out of the villains' reach in such a short amount of time. And the seine had been the only way to get her out of danger.
“More like hunted” Plagg sneered in response and crossed his arms
“Plagg, you're scaring her!”
“She should be scared!”
While the black and red kwami hissed at each other, the girl's head was spinning, overwhelmed with this new world she was suddenly a part of. There were so many questions running through her mind, all begging to be answered. But the most desperate one came first “Can we go back to the Pont des Arts?” She asked softly, interrupting their argument.
Plaggs expression widened in shock, and he was about to protest when Tikki stopped him. “Good idea, I’ll have all the kwamis return to the miracle box.”
“Well, wait-” she stopped her “Will you stay with me? I would feel a bit better if I had someone more informed by my side”
The red bug smiled and nodded, still ignoring the bewildered look from the cat. Before he could say anymore, she turned back to the kwamis, leaving him grumbling and following after her.
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“God. It’s already three a.m, papa is going to be awake and getting started in the bakery soon.” Marinette muttered to herself while checking the time, her and Tikki moving at a slow pace across the bridge. It was dark, the moon providing the majority of the lighting cast down on them. And, it was almost entirely silent. Save for the constant rushing of the water beneath the bridge -the sound was making her hands begin to shake all over again-, and the occasional distant hum of a car passing nearby.
“A bakery?” Tikki whispered in response.
“Yeah,” she smiled. “My parents own a bakery. ‘Tom and Sabines’.” Her hands came together then spread like she was forming a rainbow in the air as she spoke, adding a loving touch to the simple name. Tikki gave a light giggle.
“Sounds amazing! What kind of sweets do they make?” the red bug questioned before suddenly gasping, “Do they make cookies?! I haven’t had a chocolate chip cookie in so long!”
Marinette was taken back by the kwamis sudden eagerness for one of the simplest sweets their bakery had to offer, but she couldn’t help but give an entertained laugh. “We make all kinds of cookies. Snickerdoodle, peanut butter, red velvet, oatmeal raisin, -”
“Yuck.”
“Don’t you dare say that about oatmeal raisin cookies.”
“Get to the good stuff!”
She stuck her tongue out teasingly at the kwami before continuing, “chocolate chip, chocolate chunks, and like a billion other ones I'm forgetting. Give or take seasonal and custom flavors my dad makes from time to time, too.” When she looked up, Marinette swore a line of drool was trailing from Tikkis mouth, but as soon as she had noticed it the bug was in her face in excitement once again.
“Wow!” Tikki exclaimed. “I can’t wait to try them.”
“How long has it been since you last had a cookie?” she asked. Marinette wondered what parts of human life the kwamis knew of and took part in, given the ‘secrecy’ about their existence. They were familiar enough to have opinions on cookie flavors, apparently.
“Oh, I'm not sure. I haven’t had a holder in a few decades, though I have left the miracle box during that time, - Marinette? Are you not listening again?”
Almost as soon as the kwami had started talking, Marinette had frozen her stare on something ahead of them, and she seemed a million worlds away. Tikki turned to look and her heart dropped.
Blood soaked into the wood underfoot, leaving a dark stain that seemed pure black in the night time. More sat in small pools and splatters, some spraying across the lock decorations and steadily drip-drip-dripping into the surface below. The longer she stared the more she realized the Pont des Arts would now always feel like it had been smeared with death. It was all too fresh, like someone had drained the old man of all his blood and used it like paint, spreading the viscous liquid on any surface they could. It seemed like both an introduction, and parting gift. The display was left with intent, the predator that had gotten Fu was leaving a warning for whoever tried to come to his rescue. It said ‘I’m here, look what I am capable of. Look at everything I did. Look at what I’m willing to do.’
Marinette took a step back, mouth agape as she realized breathing was becoming increasingly difficult. Her blood pounded in her ears, droning out the seemingly fraught help Tikki was trying to provide the panicked girl. Another step back and her legs buckled, dropping her directly into the glistening pools of gore. Her hands clenched into fists, now stained a dark red as she kneeled in the blood, and she panted in desperate need for air. It seemed to hang in the air now, the metallic tang filling her mouth and nose.
“Marinette!”
The screech - almost directly in her ear - snapped her attention back to the ladybug creature, whose voice was feverish with alarm. “Tikki..” she breathed, still struggling to keep from hyperventilating. “Tikki, this is him, isn’t it?” Marinette brought her hands up, now holding them raised in the air to shine in the moonlight. The crimson liquid trickled from her palm to her wrist, then down her elbow and back to the bridge. “This is Master Fu?” the tears began to fall down her cheeks now, the reality setting in. She was the guardian. She was alone.
“You need to get home.”
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Marinette gets home, soaked (though no longer bloody, thanks to an alley hose she passed on her walk), and exhausted. Her breathing still awkward and unbalanced, lungs aching from whatever water she took in from the seine. Her emotions bubble inside her, threatening to spill over from her eyes once again. It was bad enough you could tell she had been crying already, she didn’t need her parents to see her in the act. Tikki rested on her shoulder, tucked neatly into her hair as they approached the bakery.
“Home sweet home” she said, waving her hands with pretend enthusiasm as she tried to revive the playful energy they had earlier. Instead her voice felt deflated and hollow. Her hands reached for the doorknob, shaking slightly as they hovered above it.
“Do you not want to go in?”
“Its not that.”
“Marinette. You can talk to me”
Marinette took a deep breath. “I can’t hide all this from my parents. Not yet, at least. If I go inside now and they’re awake, they'll know I was outside then they’ll see I was crying and I’m terrible at hiding things from my maman so one word from her and I’ll instantly spill everything that happened and then they-”
“Slow, Marinette. Is there any way you can sneak in?”
“Only through a window or my balcony, both of which I definitely can't reach from down here” she huffed, the puff of breath blowing through her still damp bangs that hung across her face. She was about to grit her teeth and accept the inevitable interrogation her parents would give when Tikki spoke again.
“I can fix that.” the kwami gave a sweet smile before phasing seamlessly through the wood of the miracle box and returning with a small case in her arms. “These are the miraculous of the ladybug. If you put on these earrings and say ‘Spots On’, you'll transform and be able to get to your balcony undetected.”
Marinette hesitated, then reached for the box and opened the lid to peek at the miraculous. Inside were two round, red earrings each with five small spots, which she carefully plucked from their resting places. They went through her ears effortlessly and lacked the weight that many earrings came with. “Please don’t tell me this is going to hurt” she wheezed, eyes drooping with sleep.
“Definitely not.” Tikki reassured quickly. “When you’re inside just say ‘Spots Off’ to drop the transformation.”
“Well… spots on?”
Tikki flew through the air, this time as if she was being pulled by some invisible force - one coming from the earrings. Her vision exploded with pink as bubbling, glowing masses appeared out of thin air and swarmed onto her body. She held her breath and pressed her eyes closed, still awaiting a sting or ache to overtake her body despite Tikkis reassurance. Instead the magical clouds felt light and tingly on her skin as they passed over her from head to toe.
The buzz came to a stop in a few moments which Marinette took as a cue to open her eyes. Nothing around her had changed, she was still standing outside the bakery clutching the miracle box, only now she was dressed in a sleek red and black spotted suit from neck to toe. She was a ladybug.
Marinettes breathing hitched in her chest as she ran her gloved hand across the material, then up to her face where she felt the grooves of a mask across her eyes. Built in secret identity, cool. She felt refreshed, the soreness in her legs was now just a weak discomfort. She took a relieved breath, and slowly stretched her limbs as she gathered her bearings. A yoyo rested on her hip, also a solid red with five black spots like the earrings, but with the same honeycomb texturing of her suit.
“A yoyo? I’m going to… yoyo to my room?” she mumbled to herself as she gave it a few experimental tosses. Looking up, she took a few breaths and prepared herself. She took a step back and threw the yo-yo towards a neighboring roof, then gave a slight tug when it had wrapped around some solid object. It pulled her effortlessly from the ground, propelling her upwards while she struggled, airborne, like a fish out of water. In moments she landed, almost entirely flat on her face, on the spine of the rooftop.
It took a minute for Marinette to figure out her next step, which ended up being just to drop from the roof to her balcony. It had seemed much more complicated in her head, like she would have to be some ninja, hiding in the shadows. But she had left the trapdoor to her room unlocked, so it had required no more effort than opening a door. She landed softly on her bed, and subsequently threw herself back onto her blankets with an exasperated sigh.
“Spots off” she mumbled, already fighting the alluring call of sleep. Another flash of the magic light and the suit was gone, leaving Tikki in its place. She looked around, observing her new environment before turning back to Marinette.
“Home sweet home” She echoed the previous statement, then burrowed into the crook of Marinettes elbow as the girl groggily put herself to bed. With the miracle box held firmly in her grip, and the deep ache slowly returning to her muscles as the magic of the miraculous wore off, she mumbled a barely coherent goodnight to Tikki and let herself fall into the comfort of sleep.
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gelifish33 · 1 year
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Lov’s Lament
A hand to my side, I grit my teeth and pound on the door with peeling paint again. I know she can hear me. The vampire has shown up at compromising times just because she can hear things two miles away. This is personal. She’s ignoring me after what I said last time.  Well, I’m here to make a compromise.  I bang on the door again, the old wood groaning under the pressure. Dammit. I could kick…
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tonguetiedraven · 2 months
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ballwizard · 9 months
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hot off the presses!
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the-golden-vanity · 5 months
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The number one rule of cursed boat voyages is, "no matter how cursed the boat is, do not dive from it." There was no way to survive this from the beginning, but now you will see that truth with your own eyes, and no one will believe you.
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recalled11 · 11 months
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Part 1 / Part 2 / Part 3
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