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kitty0boy · 3 years

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More Marichat fanfiction because I’m obsessed.

It’s set a bit in the future so Adrien is 18 and Marinette is 17. Chat is grown up and can use multiple cataclysms but Marinette isn’t yet (I think the age will be 18 so yeah). It’s also reverse love square, so Ladybug is in love with Chat and Adrien is in love with Marinette

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Another day, another akuma. Recently, Hawkmoth had toned down on the frequency of Akumas, maybe he supposed that he would only akumatize the more powerful emotions and oh boy, was this one really mad.

His name was Trickster, his power was shapeshifting. Doesn’t seem very destructive at first but he can turn himself into anything his little heart desires. From blood sucking mosquitoes to giants straight out of a fairy tale to a frog? This guy could do it all. The problem was, what couldn’t he do? How would they stop him?

She was running a little late to the action, who knew getting away from class during a life threatening disaster would be so difficult. Spotting her beloved partner, she landed beside him. “What have we got today kitty?”

“Just your average asshole Ladybug.” He muttered obviously angry.

“You know this guy?” She asked, why was he so mad about this one?

“Not purrsonsly, he was harassing women on the street, following them around. That is until he was called out for it and arrested.”

“You wouldn’t happen to be the one to correct his behaviour, would you?” Silence. She looked up at him, oh he looked seriously ticked off.

She quickly changed the subject. “Well let’s take care of this quickly. Any idea where his akuma is?”

“His camera maybe, or his phone.” He clenched his fists. “Mon dieu what a creep.”

“Alright let’s get a closer look then shall we?”

He nodded before he extended his baton towards the now troll running down the street. His giant club dragging along the ground behind him leaving an indent every time it bounced off the pavement. Without warning he whipped around and threw it into the air, catching on Ladybug’s yo-yo and sending her flying backwards. Twisting mid air she grabbed onto a street lamp, saving her face from scraping the road. Then she was off again, swinging from roof to roof towards the, what was he now? A Yeti?

“Lucky Charm!” She called and down dropped a baseball? Seriously?

She looked everywhere but couldn’t find what to use it for. She raced around looking for its purpose but nothing came into view. “Come on, come on.” She panicked.

Cat looked over, noticing her struggling. “How much time do you have left?”

“Two minutes! I need more time.” She was shaking now, she couldn’t afford to detransform now. It was too dangerous.

“Got it, brace yourself little bug!” Raising his arm in the air he called for his “Cataclysm!” And pressed his hand to the ground creating a giant crater under Trickster’s feet. He only sunk about 2 feet before becoming a raven and flying high above them. So much for getting more time. She had no choice but to leave. She tossed her lucky charm to Chat Noir and hoped he got the message, he looked over to her and nodded before using his baton like a baseball bat launching the ball at Trickster. Well at least the Lucky Charm had some use. She ran until her last dot beeped and slipped into an empty alleyway.

“That was a close one Tikki, I can’t wait until I grow up.” Tikki flew into her purse and pulled out a cookie. “Don’t worry Marinette, you’ll grow up soon. In the meantime Chat Noir will cover for you.” Her heart fluttered a little at the thought of him. “Yeah, I wonder how old he is.”

“Marinette you can’t know each other’s-“

“Identities I know” she cut off “I just want to know when I will be old enough.” Tikki scrunched her face in contemplation, “18” she said, decided it was ok.

“Really! That’s so soon, oh I can’t wait!” She exclaimed. A little too loudly apparently. She heard footsteps, she needed to transform but Tikki wasn’t ready yet. “Hide Tikki.” She whispered before pulling out her phone. Using the camera, she peeked around the corner only to see a tiger creeping towards her. She gasped slightly as she moved backwards, trying not to make any noise. That was when she heard a small thump behind her and a hand covered her mouth. Before she could scream she felt him lean towards her ear “It’s me.” He whispered before scooping her up quietly and trying to figure out how to escape. Marinette looked around and spotted a window on the second floor of the building beside them. He caught on and calling for another cataclysm, reduced the glass to ash. He lifted her inside before climbing up himself.

“Follow.” He instructed before creeping towards the back of the office building. They found an elevator and before he could press the button she grabbed his shoulder, which made him turn around. She pulled him down to whisper in his ear. “Wouldn’t an elevator be too loud kitty?” He paused thinking, “What do you propose?” She looked over his other shoulder and saw a staircase. “We take the stairs.”

“That might take too long, we have to get you out of here fast.”

“You have superpowers Chat, it shouldn’t take that long if you carry me.” His cat ear twitched and without warning he wrapped her arms around his neck and lifted her off the ground making a beeline for the stairs. The stairs were those kind of box-y spiral staircases so standing between the gap, he extended his baton causing them to shoot upwards, as if they were in an elevator. She had to tuck her head into his shoulder to avoid smacking it on the bottom of each flight. Reaching the top he put his baton away and wrapped both his arms around her, one behind her back, which caused her to blush, and one under her thighs.

And they were off, though he didn’t get very far before a pigeon started to follow them. She spotted it but wasn’t sure if it was him. “Take a left!” She yelled over the wind and he did, so did the bird. When it turned, a flash of light blinded her but he was still a pigeon. The light came from his foot, which could only mean, she gasped “Chat, he’s wearing a ring! That’s where the akuma is!”

“As helpful as that is purrincess, I can’t do anything until I make sure you’re safe. We’ve gotta get him off my tail.” He huffed in frustration, or from exhaustion. One of the two

She looked around before an idea came to her.

“Cat the sewer system! We need to get down. That way he can’t sniff us out!”

“Got it, hold on tight!”

He quickly pulled something out of his pocket. A blue slice of cheese and popping it into his mouth. He repositioned her so he was carrying her bridal style. “Power up!” He yelled. She felt his hand leave her legs before he twisted around and jumped off the roof, they were going to splat on the road! “Cataclysm!” He growled before extending his hand backwards towards the ground. It made contact with the pavement and it crumbled beneath his hand, they fell straight through the street and she heard him grunt as his back collided with the water. She held her breath. This was gross, something pressed to her lips and she grabbed it inhaling. He started kicking his feet swimming with the current. She had to keep her eyes closed. Luckily it had rained the day before so the water wasn’t just garbage. It was just as disgusting as you’d think it is, but if she had to choose between death and garbage water, this was her best bet. He took a leap before they left the water. Laying side by side. She propped herself up on her elbow and took the baton out of her mouth. Cringing at the stench, she peeled her shirt away from her body, jeez this sucked.

“Sorry Marinette, I was hoping we’d land on the floor.” He panted, she reached over and patted him on the shoulder.

“It’s ok, I’d take sewer water with you over death any day.

Was he blushing, or were his cheeks tinged from the cold water? Catching his breath he stood and held a hand out to her. She took it and stood. He smiled at her and she smiled back. “Claws in” he whispered “Woah woah woah!” She covered her eyes quickly and turned around. He chuckled behind her “Relax m’lady, I just took off my power up.” M’lady? Isn’t that what he called Ladybug? She felt her face grow hot under her hands. “I thought Ladybug was your lady?” She said before she could stop herself. He stammered “O-oh right my bad. I guess the cat got My tongue.” She chuckled slightly before turning around to smile at him, he smiled back and she felt little akumas flutter around her stomach. He eyes drifted from his to his lips. Was he wearing chapstick? What did it taste like? Ugh snap out of it Marinette, there’s an akuma! “Thank you kitty, I’ll be safe down here.”

“I’m not convinced. You’re still out in the open, even if you’re down here. It might be risky to leave you here.” He raised a claw to his chin, trying to decide if he wanted her to stay there.

“Purrhaps if a certain superhero was distracting him, he would leave me alone.” She grinned at her clever wording. She wasn’t usually the type to make puns, but she had to admit, they were kinda fun.

He giggled a little at her pun ‘adorable’ she thought. “You’re right, just please stay safe ok, find a place to hide.” He placed his hands on her shoulders, his thumb brushed over her collar bone and made her blush. “O-ok I will.” She stammered a little breathless. Seriously? She thought she got over the stammering a long time ago. Suddenly, a gloves hand brushed across her forehead before she felt something soft press against it. He pulled back and gave his signature salute before sprinting away from her. Her hand came up to touch the spot where his lips were seconds ago, her face burned and she knew it was as red as her super suit.

“Marinette focus! We’ve got an akuma to capture!” Tikki squeaked. Marinette jumped a little, she completely forgot Tikki was there.

She smacked both sides of her face with her hands “Right! Tikki spots on!” She ran towards an opening, and leapt out, following the trail of footprints no doubt left by the akuma.

She saw Chat Noir pinned to a wall under a bent street lamp, he couldn’t reach it with his hand. The giant shrunk down and changed into an elephant and using its trunk, it made to grab Chat’s miraculous. He almost grabbed it, until her yo-yo wrapped around the trunk and launched him into the building across the street. She ran over to Chat and using all of her strength she pulled the street lamp off of him.

“Thanks bug, the akuma is in his ring.” ‘Bug’ she thought

“Ok then, let’s hope it works this time. Lucky Charm!” And down fell another baseball, the same as before.

“Maybe it was the location last time?” He reasoned.

But she still couldn’t see anything. Was her power broken? “I’ll figure it out, can you provide a distraction?” She asked, “Gladly.” He smiled reassuringly before sprinting towards Trickster.

‘Look at your wrist.’ She had no idea where the thought came from, was that Tikki? She looked down and saw a little bracelet with a loop on it, almost like the loops on a bra. She stared at it curiously “Look out!” She heard before her partner tackled her to the ground. “I don’t know what is interesting about your arm, but please figure it out soon.” He stood and using his baton as a shield, he repelled what looked like water balloons. They were launched back at the akuma who dodged each one, they exploded when they broke.

Chat’s baton flashed red with black spots, it was working! She looked around, the bracelet flashed, and so did her yo-yo and then she saw it. Her yo-yo had a little hook carved into it. She slipped the hook into the loop on the bracelet and the yo-yo spun out into a proper shield. “That’s new.” She exclaimed. Suddenly the vision of Chat using his baton like a baseball bat popped into her head. The solution hit her, “Chat I know what to do!” She yelled leaping out from behind him. The akuma transformed into a giant again and Chat looked at her, “Batter up kitty!” She yelled before pitching the ball to him. He got the idea and hit the ball back to her. She repositioned and angled the shield towards the akuma’s hand. It made contact with the shield and the giant tried to hit it away, but not before it cracked the ring and the akuma fluttered away.

She captured it “bye bye little butterfly!” Throwing the baseball into the air she yelled “Miraculous Ladybug!” And the streets looked good as new.

“Pound it!” The duo said with a fist bump.

The police arrived just in time and arrested the man. “Oh come on I didn’t even do anything wrong! It’s not a crime to take pictures!” He pleaded, “It is to take pictures of people without their consent!” Chat retorted before the door closed and the cruiser sped off.

A small beep came from her earrings, “I’ve gotta go Chat Noir, I’m proud of you though.” She smiled before hooking her yo-yo onto a chimney. “What for?” He asked. “For standing up for those women, being cat-called and followed is terrifying, those women wouldn’t get justice if you hadn’t stepped in. I’m sure they appreciated it very much. Bug out!” She yelled before taking off.

She landed close to where Chat left her and detransformed. “You figured it out! Oh I knew you would.” Tikki came up to hug her cheek. “Figured what out?”

“Your yo-yo can change functions! You figured out how to turn it into a shield today. Chat can do the same thing with his baton.” She explained. Maybe they should experiment on patrol tomorrow then, versatility of their weapons would really help with defeating Hawkmoth. Tikki squeaked suddenly and flew into her purse.

Marinette stood confused before she heard a thud beside her and was encircled by a pair of very strong arms. “There you are, you’re ok.” Chat pulled back and smiled at her.

“Of course I am, I’m a good hider.” She said and put her hands on her hips. He chuckled slightly and crossed his arms.

“What were you doing so close anyways?” He asked, “I uh was getting footage for the Ladyblog.” She lied, he furrowed his brows and stood up straight, “That’s really dangerous Marinette, especially with how strong Hawkmoth is now. You can’t be running around chasing after super villains anymore.”

She looked to the ground, even though it was a lie, hearing him disappointed in her still didn’t feel good.

He sighed before lifting her chin. “I just don’t want you to get hurt Mari, today was a close call. If I hadn’t found you who knows what would have happened. Just promise you won’t chase after Akumas anymore.”

“I promise, I’m sorry.” She said

“It’s ok, besides, if it’s footage you want, I’ve got a camera on my suit.” He said calmly. “Wait really? Where?” She was curious now, did her suit have a camera too? He reached up and flicked the bell on his neck. He lifted his chin as she stood on her toes to get a closer look, sure enough, there was a little camera peeking out from the slit in his bell.

“Woah that’s so cool! And helpful. You should tell Alya, that might make her back off.” Maybe Ladybug should tell Alya too, footage from not one but two superheroes! Besides, maybe they could analyze that footage and see where the akumas come from. “So now that that’s sorted, would like a lift back to school? Lunch just ended didn’t it?” Oh shoot she forgot! “Yeah a ride would be great! I’ve got a-“ she paused in confusion, why did his face turn crimson? Oh mon dieu, she really needed to work on her wording. Her face also grew hot with embarrassment and she looked away from him.

He cleared his throat, “Ok then let’s go.” He turned around and kneeled so she could climb onto his back, that was probably a good idea.

She wrapped her arms around his neck again and he stood holding her thighs for support. In one leap they were on the roof tops running towards her school.

Alya was waiting at the front for her and gasped when she saw the best friend on the back of one of Paris’ superheroes.

“Delivery for a Ms. Cesaire?” He joked, “That would be me.” She teased back Marinette slid off his back and was immediately tackled in a bear hug by Alya, “Where were you girl! We were worried sick!”

“I went to get footage for you, it was clearly a bad idea.” She said for consistency. “Oh Mari, you don’t have to do that for me, if I want footage, I’ll go get it myself.”

“Well in my opinion,” Chat cut in “Marinette’s technique is much more subtle than yours. I guess it just didn’t work out today.” Marinette puffed up her chest and gave a triumphant “Hmph” and the three of them burst into laughter.

“Well I’d better get going.” He said,

“Let me guess,” she put on her best Chat impression “Damsels in distress, ladies in waiting, you’ve got a lot more saving to do,” she mimicked “I can thank you, later?” He laughed at that, “I’m surprised you remember that, look out Ms. Blogger, you got competition for Chat Noir’s #1 fan.”

“A battle that was lost long ago kitten, between you and me, her sketchbook is filled with outfits inspired by your,” she raised a hand dramatically to her forehead “beauty.” She finished, “ALYA!” Marinette squeaked.

He laughed “Well I am honoured purrincess.” He bowed before turning around and grabbing his baton to leave. Something burned inside her and without thinking she walked towards him. “Chat wait!” She nearly yelled, as he turned around she tripped and grabbed his bell trying to pull herself upright.

She meant to kiss him on the cheek, she swears! But he’d turned his face towards her and her lips crashed into his. He was caught off guard but quickly kissed her back, reaching up to caress her cheek with his hand.

Realizing what was happening she pulled back and felt her face go hot again. “Uh I, thank you for saving me.” She mumbled and rubbed her forearm. She looked up at his face, which was tinged a pretty shade of pink. He reached up and ruffled her hair, “Anytime Marinette.” There was something about the way he said her name that caused little butterflies to flutter in her stomach and chest again. He gave her a wink before leaping off.

“Ok girl spill!” Marinette jumped and turned to see Alya holding her phone. “Alya did you take a picture!” She squeaked. “I won’t post it, this is just for me. Ooh maybe I’ll send it to Chat too.”

Her face burned as Alya led her back to class.

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Thanks for reading!

#miraculous lady tales of ladybug and cat noir #miraculous marinette #miraculous adrien #miraculous ladybug #chat noir #cat noir #marinette dupain cheng #ladybug and chat noir #ladybug #marichat

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inksmudgesandcandlelight · 4 years

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A friend of mine sent me a prompt and this is for her, but I don't know where the original prompts from so anyway....

He had noticed her fairly on in the evening, she was the only one not dressed to impress. No fancy ballgown that took up far too much room, and no stylistic suit that cost more than three months of wages. Instead, she was wearing a simple white dress and a black corset, her hair a dark unruly mess and her face free of makeup. She smiled as she danced in-between people, stopping for moments before being passed off to the next man or woman, occasionally she would raise one side of her dress, raising her hand, dancing in a circle and move on carefree, smiling and laughing.

He also noticed her as she was one of the cities most wanted, also his number one enemy. She had been placed on his case four weeks ago, and throughout those four weeks she had slipped through his grasp far too many times.

She pauses, dancing with another man raising his arm up and spinning herself, he chuckles, and they bow, and she raises one side of her dress again.

You sly fox.

Stealing. She was stealing from everyone, the man she had just danced with was now missing his watch, the woman before her her necklace, the woman before that her glasses. He follows after her silently, watching as she dances from person to person, he gets caught up by a girl, who he politely declines and hurries forward. He reaches her just as she’s about to unclasp a necklace and carefully grabs her hand.

“Hello there,” He smiles coolly, and she looks startled for all but a second before she looks coyly up at him.

“Hi,” this close you can see her freckles that dust her face gently. “Luke, this is my current dance partner, you don’t mind—?” She turns to her partner who politely shakes their head and suddenly they’re dancing together.

“What are you doing?” He sputters pulling her closer as she leans back.

“Dancing Luke, what are you doing?”

“Stopping you from robbing these people blind.” He whispers closely to her ear.

“You’re no fun,” she purrs and spins out of reach, he follows easily, and they fall back into step.

“And you’re wanted for arrest.” She rolls her eyes, raising her arm up pulling the side of her dress slightly up.

“And you’re missing your id.” She winks at him before taking off. He hastily pats down his pockets, smiling to himself before taking off after her, she leads them up a flight a stairs, and then up another.

“Where are you going Maria?” She turns her head back only for a moment laughing before hurrying up another flight of stairs. Her laugh was pleasant and it travels through the halls like a melody. He doesn’t falter, doesn’t pause for even a moment and soon they’ve both reached the top floor, and she’s pushed onto the balcony. But before he can grab onto her, she’s climbed the banister and pushed up onto the roof, dropping her flats down onto the balcony.

“You cannot be serious?” Luke barely manages to mutter. She runs her hands through her hair, pushing it off her face. She turns to look down at him, a coy smile on her face.

“Not your cup of tea?” She was mocking his accent, and she was doing it poorly. She reaches out her arms, climbing higher up onto the roof with easy balance and starts running.

“Oh for Christs—” He jumps up on the railing.

“You’re insane!” She laughs back at him, he still had his shoes on, she was doing this barefoot and for a moment he wanders if it was easier that way and if he could slide his shoes off without missing her.

“Just that Irish luck,” he says in a mockingly high Irish accent, her eyes narrow.

“Don’t you dare,” she warns. She had stumbled to the edge of the roof. It was bloody freezing up here the sound of the ocean and wind the only things that can be heard around them. She takes one look down and then looks back at him.

“Don’t you dare.” He echoes, she raises an eyebrow, swings her arms wide, and falls backwards.

For fucks sake.

“You stubborn, stubborn fox.” He smiles to himself before he shrugs off his dress coat in a matter of seconds, crouching down to kick off his shoes before dropping off the roof.

The water is even more freezing than the air. It’s rigid, and makes his entire body feel like it’s on fire, and when he breaks to the surface that feeling transports to his lungs.

“Hello there,” her accent was terrible.

“Hello.” He turns around spotting her, her chin was turned up, arms waving violently. He raises an eyebrow. “You can’t swim can you?” He asks. She splashes him.

“Not in a corset.” She spits out a bit of water, ducking under for a second. The shoreline was close by, her ship parked neatly on it.

“You’re an idiot.”

“Not my brightest hour,” she bites out a laugh her teeth chattering.

“Come’ere.” He reaches out for her; she was struggling and pushes against him.

“I can manage.” But she’s ducked under again and he reaches for her when she resurfaces.

“Come’ere.” He repeats and she reaches for him. They stay there, in the middle of the ocean, bopping up and down, her arms around his neck, his around her waist. “You need to be on my back if we want to make it back to shore.” He says after a while, she laughs into his shoulder.

“So you can arrest me?” He pauses for a moment.

“I’m not going to arrest you.” She looks at him then.

“Why?” She asks. He doesn’t have an answer for her and so instead he looks up at the moon, she follows his eye line. Slowly she loosens her grip swinging around onto his back, they laugh a little, her having almost fallen back into the ocean, and slowly, he swims them both back to the shore.

Sand was everywhere. He was exhausted and they were both on their backs the ocean gently climbing up to them every once in a while. The moon was only half full, beaming down at them softly. She turns on her side, her head leaned on both of her hands.

“Are you serious?” She asks, he turns to her then raising an eyebrow. “About not turning me in?” She was staring at him intently, with wide eyes. He reaches out to move her hair out of her face.

“I think I’d have to catch you first.” He says, and a smile breaks out across her face.

“And you’d need your ID.” Before he can say anything else she’s back on her feet, dancing out of his reach, and running up the plank leading to her ship. He doesn’t pause for even a moment.

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poptod · 5 years

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Baisemain

Description: Your dead body is dressed up in ancient Mesopotamian clothing, and hidden in the Museum of Natural History. What your murderer doesn’t know is that you’re about to come to life, every night, for as long as your skeleton exists.

Notes: So this is just a quick blurb (and basically a shitpost) about this idea of a murder victim’s body being held in the Museum of Natural History. It’s not specifically Ahk x Reader but there’s a bit at the end that’s pretty flirty. I suppose I could write more, but I don’t know if I really wanna do that. I promise I’ll come up with something new and actually good soon!

Word Count: 1.9k

What comes in death is… nothing. There is no you, no consciousness going by your name, and there is no reality where you exist. Not anymore. You hold no anger towards the cause of your death, but only because you simply can’t, not when there’s no mind to store it in. If you were still alive, still holding a consciousness, you’d probably be rather annoyed - you’re not a cynical person but you’re not a saint, either.

So, there is a time on earth in which you are not a thought, not a tangible thing, and all sense of who you are is subject to the tide of the wind - the idea of you exists, in abstract form, only the image of what you are in other peoples minds. It’s rather blissful, nonexistence; quiet, but not lonely, and peaceful in every way existence cannot be. For one point in time it is blissfully quiet, blissfully dark and nothing, till a bright light sparks, and your consciousness comes back to being.

There’s a light shining in your face, fluorescent and painfully bright as your eyes barely open. Squinting, you try to see through the brightness, taking a minute or so to adjust. Around you is darkness - the only light in the room is the one directly above you, and you’re lying on top of a table that is suspiciously cold. With a groan you sit up, fully taking in where you are, and what in the hell could be happening.

A thousand different solutions, none of them right, ran through your head. Perhaps this is a hospital, you thought, incorrectly, followed by, no, this is too empty. Perhaps I am in a morgue of sorts, which was also wrong. There’s a distinct smell, not especially rancid but certainly not a nice smell, and the room is filled with it. Without word or grunt you slip off the table, and the clacking on your feet is odd - not right for being shoeless and not right for the sneakers you usually wear.

It’s only then that you notice you’re not wearing your normal clothes, or anything that could be considered normal. Long cloth drapes from your shoulders and hips, colorful and softer than anything you own - nothing that belongs to you, no wallet or keys or I.D. are in your pockets, which are sizable. A sort of shawl covers your chest, while a long skirt tied somewhere around your shoulders or waist (it’s all so tight and confusing) covers you from waist to ankle. If you had to guess, you’d place the origin of the style and cloth somewhere in the Middle East, which would be the one thought so far that was right.

The only appropriate course of action, you decide, is to explore, and try to piece together what exactly was happening. So, trying to keep your clothing up (which is an easier task than you think it is, it’s very well made and knotted), you leave the cold examination table, and wander through empty halls.

A good amount of time passes before you hear faint music coming from above you. Someone’s playing ABBA, you recognize that in the least, and you climb up several flights of stairs in hopes of finding some hint of life. As you get slowly closer, the thumping of hundreds of feet begins, then the shouts, and you realize that there’s not just one person playing ABBA, it’s an entire party.

Maybe someone’s having an office party, you think to yourself, back on the course of thinking wrong things. When you reach the final door, you’re only aware it’s the final door by the impossibly loud music, and the vibrating of the door handle when you grasp it. Anxiously you turn, your nerves flooding your hand till it tingled with excitement - well, that or fear, and you preferred to be excited. Though, if you knew exactly what you were getting excited for, you might’ve not been so excited in the first place.

In the center of the room is a very familiar globe, spinning and still glowing even though it’s clearly nighttime outside. Every exhibit you ever remember seeing is dancing, playing games, or talking with one another, and you can feel your breath leave your body - perhaps you weren’t really alive again, but you can still feel your heartbeat. In fact, your heartbeat is about the only thing you can still feel, and when a soccer ball comes hurtling towards your head you can almost feel yourself faint. Instead you duck, and the ball bounces off the wall and back to - Attila the hun, who is definitely not a wax statue anymore.

You’ve been here before, you know this place, and the fact that you’re here is terrifying you more than you ever thought it could. The Museum of Natural History in New York, which is funny, because you don’t live in New York.

Pretending as if everything you’re seeing is normal, you try to look for a night guard; you know they have one, and maybe they’ll know whats happening. At the top of the steps you find him, dressed in the usual dark blue garb, flashlight in hand. He’s talking to someone who’s definitely Egyptian, Ancient Egyptian, and if the crown meant anything, very likely royalty.

“Hi, uh, I’m sorry,” you say, tapping the night guard on the shoulder. “I… what’s happening here?”

He turns to you, and a smile of recognition crosses his face. Patting you on the shoulder, he says, “Oh! Yeah, you must be the, uh, new exhibit. From Mesopotamic or something?”

“Mesopotamia,” the Egyptian corrects him, with a surprisingly strong British accent. You look to him, then back at the night guard, still confused.

“What? No, I’m - I’m not from Mesopotamia, I’m from Colorado. What’s going on here?”

The two men look at each other, communicating in silent looks before turning back to you.

“Um… well, you’re in a museum. A magical tablet brings you to life every night, belongs to this guy,” the night guard says, pointing a finger back at the Egyptian behind him.

“I was dead. Like, really dead, did anyone solve - I was dead! Someone murdered me with a - a knife or something, and now I’m here?!” The reality of your situation begins to set in with you, and it’s not a pretty sight - your eyes go wide and you grip at your hair, wondering how in the hell this situation is in any way possible.

“Hey, hey, calm down. Are you sure you’re not from Mesopotamian?”

“Mesopotamia,” both you and the Egyptian say at the same time, glancing at each other before both turning back to the night guard.

“Right, whatever. You’re from Colorado?”

“Yeah, well… at least that’s where I was living. Wasn’t born there.”

“Makes sense,” the Egyptian says. “Most Mesopotamians don’t speak English.”

“Most Ancient Egyptians don’t speak English either,” the night guard points out. “You’re going to have to prove it to me.”

Internally you groan, ready to recite the events of the current age.

“It’s 1999, and -“

“Wrong. 2005,” the night guard interrupts helpfully.

“In that case, I must’ve been murdered a good long while ago.” An anger courses through you, and you begin to spit facts like you hate them, when you couldn’t feel less apathetic about it. “There’s fifty states in America, which was founded in 1776 by George Washington, John Adams, some guy named Richard I think, and the rest of the founding fathers. Umm… Nelson Mandela recently stepped down from his presidency, and the Sixth Sense came out, which I haven’t ever watched so don’t ask me about it.”

“Okay,” he says after a moment of contemplation. “That’s fair.”

“So you believe me?” You ask excitedly, smiling for probably the first time that night.

“Sure. But I don’t think I’ll be able to convince the other exhibits, they hardly speak English some of them… it’d probably be best just to say you’re Mespotamic.”

You and the Egyptian look at each other, too tired to correct him, and you both silently agree that he’s never going to get it right. At long last the two introduce themselves; the night guard’s name is Larry, and the Egyptian’s name is Ahkmenrah, and your previous deduction had been correct - he was royal, a king to be exact. Larry offers to look your murder up on the internet, but it’s safely assumed beforehand that it isn’t solved, considering your dead body is dressed up in Mesopotamian garb in a museum. No, someone is just a very smart killer.

“Like hiding a dead body in a graveyard,” Larry comments, to which you agree. After that fun excursion in which you are deeply unsettled by your Missing Persons poster, he decides to introduce you to the wide variety of characters inhabiting the museum.

By the fifth person you meet you’re a little numb to meeting famous historical people, and to the fact that everyone keeps calling you Mesopotamian. You don’t look the part, either in skin or facial features, and everyone’s immediate assumption is more than tiresome after the seventh person you meet. The only thing that jostles you by the time midnight strikes is the massive T-Rex, which, defying all logic of the tablet, does not have meat on its’ bones. You point this out to Ahkmenrah, who seems to be the leading expert on the tablet, and he just shrugs.

“Some things just happen some ways,” he says, leaving you more confused than you were before.

Your heart skips a beat when you notice a small child on top of the dinosaur, and begins to beat faster yet when Larry runs after him, leaving you alone with Ahkmenrah. He turns to you with a polite smile, a little too real to be only cursory.

“I never got to officially introduce myself,” he says, and you recall that it was, in fact, Larry who told you the King’s name. “I am Ahkmenrah, fourth king of the fourth king, and very pleased to meet you.” You hadn’t noticed he held your hand till it comes to his lips, a gentle, admiring kiss upon the back of it. Stuttering, you try to get a grasp on your words, blushing furiously from this single show of affection.

“I - I, uh… I’m (Y/N). I hold no title,” you finally get out, wondering if you should add your job in, before ultimately deciding that saying you’re a writer isn’t a great way to earn respect. “But it’s nice to meet you as well.”

He takes you on a tour of the different rooms just as Larry toured you around the people, telling you who each room belonged to, and a little history of the exhibit. He directs you by holding your hand, sending flutters into your heart every time he squeezes your hand when pulling you along to another room. You don’t have the heart to tell him you’ve actually visited the museum before, and whenever he smiles at you, you find you don’t want to tell him anyway - if only to get him to keep holding your hand.

To your quiet delight he keeps holding your hand throughout the night, tracing your veins as he explains exactly what to do when the night comes to a close.

Ultimately, it takes a good long while to adjust to what life is - it’s explain to you that you can’t leave the museum, and it takes you a much longer time to adjust to the fact that no one will ever solve your murder. As close as your friendship gets with the Pharaoh, it doesn’t fully fill the hole in your heart left by the fact that none of your friends or family know what happened to you. But, there are ups and downs to every story, and this story is pretty far-fetched anyway.

#ahkmenrah #ahkmenrah x reader #night at the museum #rami malek

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name-me-regret · 4 years

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Till I Touch The Sky - 1/9

Till I Touch The Sky Chapter One: A Bit Of Fairy Dust

Summary: Peter is having weird dreams, and on top of that, May has a new boyfriend that Peter just does not like, and then adding on his ever increasing health problems... Well, Peter’s life seems pretty shitty right now.

Then he meets Tony Stark and he gets offered an internship, and things start looking better. However, he soon realizes that his dreams are more real than he could have imagined.

Chapter Summary: Peter starts having some weird dreams after a fall...

Read on AO3.

FANFICTION MASTER POST

Author’s Note: I wasn’t planning on posting this until it was finished, (because it’s taken over my life and I can’t work on anything till I finish this) but wanted to post it for Tom Holland’s birthday. Also, it’s the start of Pride Month! I want to work on finally finishing Saving Grace and get started on the sequel of Martin Child.

Here’s some art of Harley and Peter meeting in my He Makes Him Happy fanfiction, so check that out. I’m thinking of six chapters for this, and I hope I can stick to that this time. Hope y’all like this story. Leave me a comment and let me know.

- ~ - ~ - ~ - ~

”Free spirits, free spirits Can you hear me calling? Oh, it's all or nothing When you're free spirits, free spirits Can you hear it calling? 'Cause I don't wanna live no normal life, let go

Is this Heaven or Armageddon? Are we gettin' high, we could've watched the ending We were trodding down our memories A cemetery full of bottles that are incomplete When you're loving more, caring less It's the highs and lows with no clears And we wanted it all then But we're never runnin' out, we'll be

Free spirits, free spirits...“

~Free Spirit - Khalid

- ~ - ~ - ~ - ~

April 02, 2015 Peter and May Parker were a small family unit, just two of them. It had been them against the world ever since Ben had died. However, he knew that May struggled to make ends meet, Peter wasn't stupid. In fact, Peter Parker was quite the genius. Although, that could be debated since he didn't see this coming, not even a little bit. May Parker started dating. He supposed he couldn't blame her, because everyone needed a companion and she was perhaps lonely. Also, ever since Ben had died, the burden of the bills and mortgage on the house had fallen on her. She’d been unable to make the payments, which is why they was now living at this apartment, since they’d lost Ben’s parents house.

So, he could understand that she needed help, and the worst part was that Christopher seemed like a real upstanding guy. He had a doctorate and after working for a big corporation was starting up his own medical tech company. He also knew how to cook and was able to get Peter's breathing machine for a cheaper price they could afford. Peter hated having asthma the most, especially since it was hard on him when the elevator broke in their building and he was forced to walk up the stairs. That's what he was doing now, climbing up the stairs as he huffed and puffed, and by the time he made it to their floor, he'd ran out of breath. The teenager leaned against the wall by the door for a few moments, feeling his face heat up as the twin brother and sister from down the hall passed by and eyed him with disgust. Peter knew he was grossly out of shape when a few flights of steps had him winded, but when his lungs were weak, he couldn't really exercise. Peter straightened when the two had passed him, having dropped his head as soon as Riley and Hailey (the twins) had spotted him, having felt his face heat up in embarrassment when they’d seen him struggling to breathe. He'd already recovered after a few moments, but had waited until they had entered the stairwell. Now, he shifted his backpack back onto his shoulders, taking out his house keys and entering his apartment. When he got there, he saw that the usual clutter around the house had been cleaned up, his few LEGO sculptures they’d been able to afford (cheap ones with less than a hundred pieces) had been moved to a small work table in the corner, out of the way.

He tried not to let it bug him, since it had been on the floor before and anyone could step on a loose piece of his latest project. It was not fun to step on a LEGO, and Peter should know from personal experience. So, he supposed it was a good thing that Christopher had moved his structures onto a small table and off the floor.

The teenager huffed as he kicked his tennis shoes off at the door, not in the best of moods due to the elevator being out, and then the twins (who were both so pretty) giving him those looks. He hated his asthma, so much and wished to just be rid of it, or his stupid weak lungs, and his stupid allergies. Peter Parker just wanted to leave his whole stupid, weak body behind.

Peter fumbled for his inhaler as he started to get worked up, taking an inhale and feeling as his airways opened up. He waited a moment before he straightened and tossed his bag against the work table, cursing when one of the structures was knocked on its side. The teen moved over to fix it, hoping none of the pieces had been knocked off. It was the car he’d built from the Bricks On A Roll bucket, which had many wheels and the ability to make different structures. He’d done the red car on the front, a motorcycle, and the ice cream cart as well. He wasn’t sure if his was missing pieces, but it didn’t have the big ice cream cone piece as shown on the pack. Well, judging by how shitty his luck was, it was likely that his was the only one without it.

As he moved away, he failed to realize one of the wheels was missing from the red car, and hissed as he stepped on it. He stumbled back, tripped on his backpack and fell, hitting his head on the work table.

‘Whoa!’ Peter exclaimed as he moved his hands over himself, trying to see if he’d broken something. His head felt fine, in fact, he felt great! The constant pressure he always felt on his airway wasn’t present, and wondered if the fall had somehow miraculously cured him. Maybe, it was possible.

He turned around and froze. Peter should’ve known that his shitty Parker Luck would kick in. Because miracles didn’t happen to Peter Parker.

There in front of him, was his body on the floor with blood on his forehead where it’d struck the work table. He was looking at his body from the outside, so... did this meant he was dead?

‘Aww, come on!’ Peter cried out.

- ~ - ~ - ~ - ~

Peter hummed as he tried to figure this out, because as far as he could tell, he wasn’t dead. It didn’t help that he was currently floating over his body like a damn ghost. However, he could tell that his body was still breathing, if the way his chest was moving up and down was any indication.

So, not dead.

If that was true, then what was happening right now?

His thought process was cut off as he heard the key in the lock, and glanced at it. His eyes widened as he saw his aunt come through the door and glanced back at his body, and knew this was going to be bad. Peter winced as she screamed and rushed to his side.

“Peter?! Oh baby, wake up!” May sobbed, hands going to his forehead and flinching away from the blood there. She fumbled for her cell phone, her hands shaking so badly that she was barely able to dial 911.

‘May, I’m right here. I’m alright,’ Peter tried to tell her, floating over to her, but when he tried to touch her, his hand passed though her. He gasped and flinched back as if burned, looking at his hand and then at his body as May caressed his face ever so gently. If he could cry, he would, but as he was now, he only felt panic and terror, and a sorrow so profound that he curled up from how intense it felt.

He didn’t understand what was happening to him. Peter just wanted to be wrapped in his aunt’s warm embrace. He wanted all this to be over. Then, without knowing how, he slept and then he felt like he was falling; falling so very fast.

- ~ - ~ - ~ - ~

Peter’s eyes snapped open and he gasped in a breath, hand going to his throat and he couldn’t breathe! He heard a scraping sound and then a hand on his and he flinched away.

“Peter, you’re fine! Look at me, baby. It’s May,” a familiar voice said. His eyes snapped toward her, and immediately slumped down in relief when he realized it was his Aunt May. She pulled his hand gently away from his throat, fingers soothing away the scratch marks he’d made on himself in his frantic struggle.

“Wha-?” Peter tried to speak, felt a catch in his throat and coughed harshly. The mask over his face fogged up, but he had enough experience with his asthma to know he needed it so didn’t remove it. Peter dreaded to think of how many hours she was missing of work, since his Medicaid would pay for his hospital bills. It was just that it didn’t always pay for all his medicines, and May ended up paying some of it out of pocket. “M’sorry,” he whimpered, hating to be such a burden to her.

May smiled wanly, brushing back a few curls from his face. “It’s alright, baby. We’ll make it somehow. Besides, Chris will help us, you’ll see.”

Peter tried not to let his mood sour at the mention of the man, and instead gave a nod, glad the mask covered most of his face. He might not like the man, but he helped the burden on May. Besides, she was happy with him, and that’s all that mattered.

As he settled back on the bed, feeling his eyes grow heavy, a memory of floating over his body came to him.

‘Huh, that was some dream’, Peter thought.

Although, he couldn’t shake the feeling that it had felt so real.

- ~ - ~ - ~ - ~

April 04, 2015

Peter sighed as he came into the apartment, his whole body feeling lethargic and heavy. He wanted to just get in bed and sleep, but he had been sleeping for two days already and he was tired of it. The teenager had thought they could spend some time together; just his aunt and himself.

“Get the door, May,” Christopher called, and the woman pulled open the door as the man entered carrying Peter’s bag and several bags of groceries in the other. They’d stopped to buy them on the way home, where Peter had been forced to stay in the car since he was still on oxygen and it would have been a hassle to carry the small tank inside the supermarket. So, Peter had stayed in the car and tried not to feel too bitter about it.

Now, it seemed like they wouldn’t have some time alone either, seeing as Chris started to help May unpack the groceries. Peter pulled off the mask, sick and tired of having to cart around the small oxygen tank. Besides, he needed to make sure not to use it all up before the end of the month, which still had two weeks left. “I can... help,” Peter said, wanting to feel useful.

“I got it, bud,” Christopher said as he grabbed up the bags Peter tried to get to help with. “Why don’t you go take a shower and I’ll come set up your nighttime treatment.”

Peter grimaced at that, since he didn’t want to have his nighttime treatment when it was barely 7:30 pm. He was not going to bed that early, no matter what anyone said. “It’s early still,” he argued, coughing a moment later.

God, he hated having these weak lungs.

“That decides it,” Chris said, motioning toward the bathroom. Peter might have been acting childish or immature, but he hated that the man acted like he had any right to order him around, like he was his uncle or his dad. He wasn’t.

“Alright, how about we watch a movie?” May said, stepping between the sullen teenager and her boyfriend. “Peter, you go take a shower while I make the popcorn and Chris sets up the movie. It can be a cheesy horror movie, like Sharknado.”

Peter nodded with a grin, his bad mood quickly vanishing. “You know, Sharknado isn’t too bad, as long as you don’t take it too seriously,” he said, rushing off. He wanted to hurry in taking his shower so he could get back and maybe sit next to May on the loveseat, their usual spot when watching movies before.

He considered it a win when he was able to plop onto the loveseat when coming back from his shower. May pulled him closer for a cuddle instead of telling him to let Chris have his seat. The teenager settled to watch the bad movie, sharing a bowl of popcorn with his aunt.

The movie was bad but entertaining, and he snuggled against his aunt as they watched. This was nice.

He didn’t even realize he’d fallen asleep, until he was suddenly looking down at himself. It seemed May hadn’t realized he’d fallen asleep either, until Chris pointed it out.

“Should I put him to bed?” the man asked May. Peter didn’t like the idea of being carried like a child by the man, and hoped May let him stay right there.

“Yes, that’s probably best,” she told him. Peter frowned as he watched the man lift him up like he weighed nothing, and since he couldn’t do sports to gain any muscle, he probably did weigh nothing.

Peter grumbled as he floated out of the man’s way, starting to get the hang of moving around. He wasn’t paying attention and realized too late that he was going to hit the wall, and his arms lifted to protect his head. Peter cried out instinctively, but he didn’t hit it... he went through the wall.

‘Holy shit!’

He flapped his arms around as he was suddenly in the hallway, and then passed through so he was in the apartment next door, where a young couple and their one year old daughter lived. They were gathered around the table, playing some board game as the little girl giggled. “Ally won!” the little girl cried. The man and woman cheered, lifting her up as she squealed happily.

“And now it’s time to get ready for bed,” the woman declared.

Peter moved on when he was able to get the hang of moving through the air, glancing back a moment and thought he saw the little girl waving at him, but then he’d gone through the wall of the apartment next to them. He realized too late that it was the twin’s apartment, and he was suddenly in a bedroom.

There were posters of One Direction and other bands he wasn’t familiar with. He turned around as he heard a rustling and he squeaked when he saw that it was Hailey, the girl of the duo, and she was starting to change after having clearly taken a shower judging by the towel she started to pull off.

‘I’m so sorry!’ he cried even if she couldn’t seem to see or hear Peter, one hand lifting up to cover his eyes as he used that other to rush through the wall. He was in the hallway a moment before he passed through the opposite wall into the room there. That room turned out to be the bathroom, which was being used.

A head popped out of the shower, hair wet with water and Peter was dismayed to realize it was Riley, the male twin. And he was in the shower, naked and wet! “Hailey! You finished all the hot water, you asshole!”

“Deal with it!” Hailey’s muffled voice yelled back.

Riley grumbled about annoying sisters and his head disappeared back inside the shower. Peter figured it was a good idea to leave now, before he invaded Riley’s privacy like some pervert. Maybe it was time to go back to his own apartment. Besides, he felt a bit... sick? Which was strange, since he usually didn’t feel anything besides emotions. Then again, this was just a dream. Wasn’t it?

He found his body in the bed, mask for his nighttime treatment strapped to his face and he felt even sicker now. It was probably that he hated the feel of the medicine and that’s why he felt sick? Maybe next time he went exploring he’d leave the building, even if it felt scary. There was a fuzzy quality to everything, like everything was being seen through a filter, or perhaps a cloud. Also, everything not in his immediate area faded away into darkness. Almost like it ceased to exist.

For now, he floated over to his body as he closed his eyes. After feeling a sensation like falling and falling, everything went dark.

- ~ - ~ - ~ - ~

Peter moaned as he woke up, the taste of the medicine in his mouth, coating his throat and it was in his nose. He yanked the mask off his face, wincing since his face felt tender from where the straps had been digging into his skin. Peter felt shaky when he stood, feeling like gravity was weighing even heavier than usual on his body. He barely made it to the bathroom before he was heaving, throwing up the popcorn he’d had earlier. The teenager wasn’t even sure what time it was, but since his aunt didn’t come running to see what the matter was, she must have gone to work.

“Peter, is that you, bud?” he heard Christopher ask, realizing that May must have left him watching over him while she left for her shift. There was a light knock on the bathroom door. “Do you need help?”

He was feeling like crap and even if he knew it wasn’t the man’s fault, he didn’t want his help. “No, go away,” he croaked, his body heaving again but he’d already thrown up the little bit he’d eaten, so it was mostly stomach bile.

The door opened as he was washing out his mouth, and he would have scoffed at the man not listening to him if he’d had any strength left. His medicine had never caused him to get sick like this before, so he wasn’t in the best of moods.

“Come on, let’s get you back to bed,” Chris said, voice almost gentle. He didn’t know why he didn’t like the man, but he... just couldn’t like him. There was something about him that Peter couldn’t put his finger on that made him dislike him. Maybe he was being unfair or childish, but he couldn’t help it.

“I’m fine,” he grumbled, shrugging off his hand as he shuffled back to bed. He climbed back into his twin bed, the mattress already old and a bit too small. Peter just refused to ask for another, since it wasn’t a necessity. He was fine with this for now, and didn’t want to burden May asking for another, bigger bed.

“Maybe I should give you another treatment,” Chris said, glancing at the nighttime machine.

Peter grimaced at the thought of feeling the medicine coating his throat, mouth and inside his nose again and his stomach protested it. “No,” he said as he shook his head, “I’m fine.” Peter knew he wouldn’t get away with not having the treatment again tomorrow night, but at least for tonight, he wanted to be free of it.

Chris hesitated, before he nodded. “Until tomorrow then,” he said, that smile on his face he hated so much. Peter didn’t understand why he hated it, hated Christopher. Maybe he should give him a chance? After all, he’s the reason they had gotten this newer machine practically for free.

“Yeah... thanks, Chris,” he muttered, pulling his blankets up to his chin.

The man paused as he’d been about to leave and after a moment he turned with a smile. “It’s no problem. I want to help you and your aunt.” He pulled the door closed. “Sweet dreams, Peter.”

Peter’s room was plunged into darkness and he curled up under the blanket. He closed his eyes and hoped he was able to fly away again in his dreams. It was nice being able to get away from his weak body and the problems that brought him and his aunt.

So, he flew away in his dreams, that felt more real than they should be.-

#Till I Touch The Sky #Peter Parker #May Parker #Tony Stark #fanfiction #Things That Go Knock In The Night series #myfanfiction #name-me-regret #regret writes #regret fanfiction

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thefinalcinderella · 6 years

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DIVE!! Book 4 Chapter 11-TAKE OFF

Here it is!! The final chapter of the series!! Thanks to everyone who followed it until now!! I hope you enjoy the journey of the MDC and their supporters. When I first decided to try translating this series after seeing the key visual for the anime, I never thought I’d get so attached to these kids and adults. (also can’t believe how long it took)

Translating this series helped me learn a lot about Japanese, though I’m still nowhere near fluent. It also opened my eyes to all those Japanese youth novels out there that won’t ever get translated unless they get an anime or have a cute girl on the cover or something. Also this is the first sports story that I actually didn’t get bored with.

Thanks again for reading!

Full list of translations here

Previous |

On a certain day in January of 2000, in a corner of a restaurant at Narita Airport that overlooked the runway, an athlete and a coach were picking at their sukiyaki.

Although they finished their check-in procedure two hours before the flight, there was still time before they had to get to the boarding gate. It was a familiar scene of people getting their last chance of eating Japanese food as well as killing time. If there was just one element that wasn’t seen very much, it was that only one of the two men with an age difference between them was hanging their head incredibly sadly.

“So? Have you eaten? Are you full? Don’t ever forget that aftertaste, and think over it when you’re over there. Don’t forget the shirataki noodles and the meat soup that soaks into them. Don’t forget the reserved deliciousness of the tofu. There’s only steaks and popcorn over there, but you must live healthily.”

“You might say that in the Edo period, but nowadays there’s Japanese food all over the world.”

Shibuki, with an amazed look on his face, calmly admonished Ooshima, who was acting like he was on his deathbed.

“First of all, even though half a year would just seem like an instant, that’s your blessing for me?”

“No, half a year is half a year. It is definitely longer than a moment.”

“But, it’s shorter than a lifetime.”

“Well, at most, I can polish my sukiyaki making skills during that time.”

“More than that, could you please add to your repertoire of dishes?”

The two sighed at the same time and looked out the window.

Massive metal masses could be seen taking off one after the other from the runway through the window. Just like a pair of scissors cutting up a light blue cloth, they cut through the clear sky with their rigidly spread wings.

“I wonder if Tomo is above the Pacific Ocean right now.” Ooshima murmured as he followed those flights with his eyes. “Isn’t it a few hours to New Zealand? I can’t believe it became a near miss with your departure. Even though we could have met at the airport if we were just slightly earlier, how disappointing.”

“You’re so naïve.”

“Huh?”

“That woman purposely decided to prepare my passport on the same day.”

“Coach Asaki did? How come?”

“She’s that kind of person.”

Shibuki clenched his knees on his knees.

“Or rather…that bad-natured woman was doing whatever it took to stir up the mood in that place. Even though she could have just said at the beginning that the chairman promised that he’ll give the money even if I didn’t win, but just clear 600 points, she shamelessly lied about it.”

“Now now, that was probably a way to get you fired up. First of all, thanks to the bad-natured woman’s negotiations, the way to Florida has opened.”

It was Ooshima’s turn to admonish a trembling Shibuki, and then he glanced at his watch.

“It’s almost time. Come, let’s go. Go, and try out your possibilities. Since I hate the idea of parting at the departure counter, I’ll see you off here while drinking a beer.”

As he said that, Ooshima took the menu and perused it from the top meaninglessly. It was almost as though he was afraid of meeting eyes with Shibuki.

Shibuki also silently bowed to match it, and stood from his seat with one small travelling bag on his shoulder. His larger luggage was already sent by ship in advance to the homestay introduced by Mr. Ben Bradley. For the moment, even if he only had his ticket to Florida and his passport, he felt like he could fly anywhere.

“Bye.”

At the moment Shibuki quietly said that and tried to leave, Ooshima suddenly put down his menu with a flop, saying “By the way,”

“Your beautiful girlfriend didn’t come and see you off, huh.”

Shibuki stopped his feet and carelessly responded.

“She hates the very idea of parting at the airport, not to mention at the departure counter. Also, she seemed to be busy preparing to come to Tokyo.”

“Coming to Tokyo?”

“She said something about studying foot massaging in Tokyo starting from April for a year…it seems that she’s going to breathe a new wind into the community of old people in Tsugaru.”

“Foot massage? How plain.”

“The grandpas and grandmas seem to be in pain, but since she’s enthusiastic about saying that she’s finally found what she wanted to do, isn’t that okay then?”

“But, there’s swarms of bad lovers in Tokyo. Half a year without you would be very long.”

Shibuki smiled at Ooshima, who was half-jealously teasing him, and flapped the ticket gripped between his fingers.

“A swan couple stays a pair for their whole lifetime until one of them dies.”

At the same time Shibuki was looking down at the Pacific Ocean from the jumbo jet that was carrying him, Kayoko’s angry voice was ringing out as usual at the Tokyo Tatsumi International Swimming Center.

“One more time! Red’s takeoff was too late!”

“Green! Watch Red’s rotations more closely!”

“The two of you aren’t breathing in sync at all!”

“Do you guys think you can go to Sydney with this kind of incompetence!?”

When a ten-minute break finally came after the merciless training, Youichi and Camel…er rather, Red Yamada, flopped their bodies down together.

On the dimly lit poolside, two vivid points stood out. A brilliant contrast of red and green swim trunks—.

“Damn it, that woman should have just quietly gone back to America after all…”

Mustering the last of his strength to curse her, Youichi shut his eyes briefly, sinking into the valley of unconsciousness.

For three seconds, or thirty seconds, or maybe three minutes.

In that valley bottom protected by pure tranquility, at that moment, Youichi suddenly thought he saw Shibuki flying over the sky to a new world, and Tomoki treading onto another foreign country.

His father, Keisuke, should be next to Tomoki. The FINA World Cup, said to be the preliminaries to the Olympics. For Keisuke, who was unexpectedly selected as his accompanying coach, this was probably his last job in the world of winning and losing.

Those who continued to dive.

Those who quit.

Those who continued while choosing new ways to engage in it.

At the point where those paths intersected, the current him was there.

“I don’t get life at all.”

Opening his eyes with a snap, Youichi responded to Red, who was still breathing wildly beside him.

“You and I are aiming for Sydney by doing synchronized diving. It seems that even the JASF staff didn’t know that old man Maebara had ambitions for synchro diving. Well, it certainly not a bad view of things, or maybe I should say that old geezer really is cunning, that he really does have a medal fetish.”

When he looked towards him as he was saying that, Red was grimly staring in the direction of the day after tomorrow.

“What is it?”

“No, this way isn’t good enough, it doesn’t suit me at all.”

“Synchro diving?”

“Uh huh. Synchro diving’s a sport that prizes synchronicity first and foremost. In other words, the harmony of the two people is the deciding factor for victory or defeat. As far as that’s concerned, doesn’t that mean red and green swimming trunks aren’t good enough at all?”

“Hey, wait. Aren’t you the one who decided to try red and green? You said that it would be ‘Christmas-cool’.”

“But anyways, as a representative of Japan, I want to cherish and emphasize Japanese tastes. You know, like the soul of wabi sabi, (1) the beauties of nature, and the Japanese spirit… Well, here’s an idea, what do you think of the two-tone of pink and green, like sakuramochi?” (2)

“…You just want to go back to being Pinky, don’t you.”

Youichi lifted his upper body up while pressing his hand to his forehead.

At that moment, Kayoko’s intensely angry voice flew from the opposite shore of the poolside once again.

“You two, even though I said ten minutes you’ve been dawdling there forever. If you have no motivation, then just quit synchro diving and stick yourselves to the poolside for the rest of your lives. Forever, till you have grandkids!”

Good grief, Youichi and Red thought as they lifted their heavy backs up and headed for the top of the stairs once again.

Youichi thought that going to Sydney with synchro diving would be a meaningful step towards the crucial performance that would appear in the future. When he stood alone on top of the dragon four years later, his Sydney Olympic experience would surely be a great asset.

But, the fact that this guy of all people was his synchro partner…

And, the fact that that woman was the specialist coach that the JASF sent…

“No no, you didn’t do it at all! Both of your paces when climbing up the steps aren’t in sync at all. I’m laughing my head off at that synchronization, ho-ho-ho!”

With his back to Kayoko’s loud laughter, Youichi ascended the steps with Red again, and unwittingly let loose a feeble mutter from his mouth.

“Aah, I wanna go to Athens soon.”

At the same time Youichi and Red were beginning to show a splendid combination while talking about this or that, across the Southern Sea at Auckland Airport in New Zealand, a passenger plane carrying the Japanese water sports team participating in the FINA World Cup.

“Until the plane has completely stopped, please wait with your seatbelts on and without standing from your seats.”

As they listened to the announcement with a strange accent, Keisuke spoke to Tomoki, who was looking out the window curiously.

“We’ve finally arrived. How do you feel?”

“I feel really heavy and sleepy and full.”

“Well, after ten days your body should gradually acclimatize itself. How is your state of mind?”

“Mind?”

“This is your first experience with a genuine international competition. The aspects and tastes of diving differ again between the Western countries and Asia, so I hope you are not crushed by the pressure of being a Sydney representative…”

“I’m okay, I’m okay,” Tomoki responded with a lively smile. “Even if you say it’s my first time, I’m with you, Coach Fujitani. And, yesterday Youichi-kun taught me a lot of things on the phone, like how to have physical contact with Western people.”

It wasn’t just Youichi-kun. In Tomoki’s knapsack the day before he departed, the new training schedule from Kayoko was hidden there. As well as letters from Reiji and Ryou, Sachiya’s flag, and for some reason a prayer charm for a good marriage match from Shibuki’s girlfriend’s grandmother. And, there was also an original support rock minidisc from Hiroya.

The plane carrying Tomoki, who was supported by all of those things and facing his first international competition, smoothly tilted its wings, and a few minutes later, it caught hold of the approaching ground with its wheels and safely touched down on the runway.

The Japanese water sports team, leaving the plane in droves, had a total of eighteen people. All of them except for Tomoki and Teramoto Kenichirou were swimmers. They were outnumbered as usual, but Tomoki, the youngest there, puffed up with pride and followed after Teramoto without shame. The knapsack he was carrying on his back was stuffed with an overflowing amount of fighting spirit, along with the many things that everyone gave to him.

It didn’t matter if the 4½ at the Olympic representative qualifying trials was just a one-time fluke. He could make it into the real thing through many years from now on. He knew very well that he was miles away from competing for medals at this World Cup as well as at Sydney in the summer. Even so, if he went after them with all his strength, even if he was defeated to exhaustion, no matter how many times he fell, he would surely become one level stronger. Four, or eight years later, he will have the power to compete with Youichi and Shibuki for the Olympic podium.

Bracingly focusing ahead, Tomoki advanced on a long and narrow pathway, and his field of vision suddenly opened, and a row of counters stretching horizontally jumped in.

Was this the problematic immigration inspection? Tomoki recalled the advice Youichi gave him last night, and let in fighting spirit into the pit of his stomach.

“Listen up, Tomo. The first thing about Western countries is that they regard physical contact between people as important. Testing this ability for contact is called immigration inspection. I know many tongue-tied people who were sent back to Japan when they failed it. You don’t want that, right, so first you have to greet the inspection officers by saying ‘sightseeing’ in a loud voice. Then, when the other person responds with something, introduce yourself simply in English. Favorite color, favorite flowers and so on. The most important point is heart. As long as you get across your disposition for contact, the other person will be satisfied. You have to be cheerful and smiling till the end.”

The immigration inspection counter was approaching moment by moment. On their side that was separated by a white line, various skin colors, various hair colors, and various eye colors were harmoniously forming a line. As Tomoki’s chest nervously beat fast, his eyes chased after Keisuke and Teramoto, who were a step ahead heading towards the counter. As expected of veterans with plenty of international experience, the two easily cleared it. Next please. An inspection officer who really did seem to be asking for skinship beckoned him, and it was finally Tomoki’s turn.

Tomoki took in a deep breath, and stepped towards the inspection officer with drooping eyes and a red face. Then, with his whole face smiling, he shouted “Sightseeing!” in a loud voice that seemed to echo throughout the entire airport.

My name is Tomoki Sakai.

I am a Japanese second-year middle school student.

My favorite color is blue.

My favorite flower is the moth orchid.

My favorite animals are dogs and dolphins and whales.

After that, after that…

“My favorite thing to do is to dive!!”

Translation Notes

1. Wabi sabi is, according to Wikipedia, “a world view centered on the acceptance of transience and imperfection.” Examples of wabisabi include zen rock gardens and bonsai trees.

2. Sakuramochi is a sweet pink-colored rice cake wrapped in a cherry blossom leaf.

#DIVE!!#dive novel translation

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fitfatkat · 5 years

Text

Day Zero

I’ve always had a complicated relationship with myself.

Whew, I hate that sentence. It feels cliche and like I’m being over dramatic. But I also hate that sentence because it is very true. I am the stereotype. I am a chubby, depressed, self-hating, 20-something who is writing a blog about how much she dislikes herself.

Cool, gal. Get on with it.

Okay, okay, okay. I genuinely have no expectations for this blog. I don’t think I’ll gain many followers or internet fame. That honestly seems overwhelming and terrible. I’m creating this for myself. I’m going to write blogs like diary entries. Very Judy Blume-esque, if you catch my vibes.

Are you there, Dead Wizard God? It’s me, Kate.

I’ve always had a complicated relationship with.... well everything. It’s how my parents raised me. They told me I was smart, but stupid. Caring, but selfish. Pretty, but fat.

Fat.

I was never the “skinny” girl. At my smallest as a teenager, I was a size 10 or 12 in pants. I was somewhere between 130-140 lbs. I played sports. I was muscular. My thighs and calves were thick. I always had a couple rolls in my stomach when I sat down.

Then, during college, I gained weight. Just like everyone else.

Then, I dropped out. My self-esteem didn’t take that hit very well. Being smart was the one thing I had always been confident I was. My mother put into words what I was thinking already, “I thought this would be the one thing you wouldn’t screw up.” #thanksmom

The next six years I put on a solid 150lbs. I was constantly depressed. I cycled through some very dangerous behaviors. I slept with stangers. Inviting a couple into my home. I drank too much. Finishing off whole bottles on my own. None of this is particularly special or unheard of. I’ve realized over the years that a good majority of people I know have gone through similar phases of self-hatred and harm.

My most serious form of self harm has always been with food. When I lived with my parents, I would sneak into the kitchen late at night, stealing pinches of shredded cheese or handfuls of chips. The point was to take as little as possible in the hope that my mother wouldn’t notice or would blame it on my younger brother. Even though I always suspected that she knew what I was doing. Then, in college, I would literally go to Taco Bell every night with the same girl friend and order 3 or 4 items, whether I was hungry or not. When I dropped out, I worked at a fast food place. Again, I was eating even when I wasn’t hungry. My late night fridge raids began again too, except now I was trying to avoid room mates finding me out.

At 24, I finally began to regain control. I had been released, not necessarily willingly, from an emotionally abusive co-dependent relationship. I was working at a job I didn’t hate. And I could apply for federal grant money. So I applied to college. And 3 years later, I’m sitting at that same job with a Bachelor’s degree sitting on my dresser at home. I start my dream first job in about 2 months. I have friends who actually give a shit about me. I’m doing.... okay.

I still have a very unhealthy relationship with food. I eat junk. I eat when I’m not even hungry. I eat to the point that my stomach hurts. I still hate myself. I hate the way I look. I hate that I can’t walk at a quick pace without sounding winded or climb a flight of stairs without needing a break at the top. I hate that I feel so goddamn self conscious when I’m getting naked with somebody. I hate that I wake up most days and don’t want to get out of bed.

Depression is a real cunt, folks.

I’ve “tried” too many times to count to whip myself into shape. It never works. Something always comes up as a perfectly good excuse to stop. Which is the point of this blog. What better way to attempt to keep myself accountable than to share everything on the internet? That’s how plenty of people have accomplished this. So sure, let’s give this a go.

Plus, I always found diary writing very therapeutic. It’s amazing how putting the words/thoughts out into a physical space makes you feel just a little lighter than you did before. Blog writing seems like it will work in much the same way.

This is me currently. I weigh 248lbs. I have consistently worn a size 20 pant and a 3x top for the last 4 years. My goal is pretty simple at face value: I want to be able to shop anywhere for clothes, not just the big girl stores/sections.

But there is also a deeper goal in mind. I would like to like myself most of the time. I would like to wake up most days and not feel like existing is just too hard. I would like to find a non-medicinal method of combating the constant invisible weight pushing down on me from my depression. I want to be an active person, not a sedentary one.

I’m about to embark on a new chapter in life. My adult life. I’m going to have a big kid job, with big kid responsibilities. And the first one is to start taking care of myself.

With as much self-love and care that I can muster,

Kate

#fattofit #dayzero #depressionisarealcunt #bigkidresponsibilities #weightlossattempt #weightlossjourney #ihatethewordjourney

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