The problem is when it never stops being fun, and I don't want to do anything else
I love getting to the point that a story is finished and I just keep adding to it, like it's a sketch that I can keep rendering. It's hard to "show instead of tell" every single thing when you have limited time to write a fun fanfiction, but you can easily get sucked into refining it and expanding on things more and more. I don't know how much time I should spend on them if they're just for fun, but it is addicting. Really addicting.
Once-ler tries to sell his product in town and meets the Lorax. Excerpt below (read full chapter on Ao3):
It was sticking out from a stump, covered in mossy brown fur. It was the size of a cat, but with the round bean-form of an animal Once-ler had never seen. Its most significant feature was the yellow mustache on its face that was so thick Once-ler had the urge to pick the creature up and turn him upside down to sweep a floor. It positively radiated power and adorableness both at the same time. It pulled itself up and looked him in the eye.
The foot of the creature tapped expectantly.
Once-ler straightened his grey business vest and hat. "Can I help you… sir?" he asked.
"I'm sorry, if I gave you a surprise." The creature didn't sound sorry at all. "But I think you earned the shock in your eyes. You're up to mischief, best confess. Your secret plot, your sneaky mess."
"What am I doing wrong? You mean trying to make a living? Why is everyone here so against that?" Once Once-ler started ranting, he found he couldn't stop. “At least I actually have some ingenuity. Why is that a bad thing? My family was like that too. Don't we need inventions and new ideas to keep the world going? How are people supposed to support themselves, huh? Just by working for the O'Hares, and that's it?"
"You have a point, it's true, I see. Your words hold weight, are error free. But mind your manners, and do beware, lest your sharp wit makes you an O'Hare."
Once-ler flushed. "Well, maybe you should all stop assuming that every stranger who tries something new around here is exactly like an O'Hare." He tipped his hat stiffly, and turned away.
"Hey, you're alright, don't you fret. A nice, amusing chap, I won't forget. Ambition burns, inspiring, bright, but heed my words, and do what's right. Two paths I see, a heavy choice. One leads to glory, a tempting voice. The other path is a conscience clear, but it all depends which way you steer."
"Amusing, huh? Well, I think you're annoying," Once-ler grumbled, and grabbed Melvin's leash.
The creature kept up with Once-ler's long legs at a surprisingly quick pace as it stroked its mustache. "The Lorax am I, my voice is always near. I've been watching this place, year after year. The trees and beasts, they're my sacred domain. The forest's my charge, and I'll watch over it again." It darted in front of him and stuck out its spindly hand.
Once-ler stared at the long curling fingers before hesitantly giving them a shake. "Once-ler."
"Once-ler, that's a name so odd. What could it mean, I'd love to prod. Is it a title, a moniker grand? Or a label that I can understand?"
"It means I never make a mistake more than once," said Once-ler. "Because my Ma said she wishes she hadn't.”
"And what was the woman's misstep I wonder, that gave her son such a name to ponder?"
(Full novelization on Ao3. We're going to make a bunch of high quality rewrites of movies that had too many plot holes).
Please leave a comment if you can and let me know how you feel about this rewrite now that it's about to end. It's one of the first fanfictions I worked really hard on finishing, so I'd really appreciate knowing what people think! Thank you so much if you've made it this far. I'm so happy I finally finished it (and am posting the last chapter next week), because for longest time I'd see people say they were going to rewrite this movie and never doing it. But now it exists! And it fixes and includes all the main things people always talked about for over a decade. I hope I've done some service to the world by getting it out.
Merry Christmas, and a happy New Year!!!!! Chapter one of my next project, The Great Wish Movie Rewrite, is up on AO3! Read it here: https://archiveofourown.org/works/61920016
What to expect:
Magnifico is the protagonist, and we see the story and his non-one-dimensional struggle through his perspective.
Asha and Amaya are antagonists.
Star Boy is in it.
NO OCS!!!!!!!!! Just a straightforward, comprehensive narrative of what the movie should've been like.
(This work is complete, and knows where it's going, and a new chapter will be added every Friday).
Excerpt:
In most monarchies, the king claims sovereignty over his people, but in the kingdom of Rosas, King Magnifico’s subjects were the tyrants.
It was his fault, he thought regretfully, for using sorcery in the first place to begin granting wishes. He should have remembered that a genie was a prisoner to the whims of others, and so too his ability left him at his people's mercy.
“I want a million coins! A parakeet, a banana split, a swimming pool, a trampoline, uhhh. . .” a little boy licking a lollipop was sitting on his lap, demanding.
"Well, we'll see about that." Magnifico glanced around for the boy's parents. "How did you get past the guards?" The palace gates, flanked by statuesque soldiers, led to the long, carpeted hallway that opened to the throne room. There the king sat upon his throne, resplendent in star-stitched robes, with all the dignity of Father Christmas.
"Great! When grown ups say 'we'll see about that', it always means yes!" The little boy jumped up off the king's lap, then skipped away, outside into the queue of people waiting their turn to make a wish.
Resentfully, King Magnifico raised his sceptre, then granted the boy’s wishes with a sweeping shimmer, since he had no heart to disappoint him.
As the boy disappeared, someone else stepped forward, shoulders slumped in sorrow. “My king,” said a peasant girl, coming up to the throne, clutching a shawl around herself. “My mother twisted her ankle, and can no longer walk after slipping on one of our chicken's eggs. She’s unable to even stand upright. Will you heal her?”
King Magnifico quickly forgot the previous boy's entitlement, and nodded slowly. "A twisted ankle? That is a serious affliction."
"It's swollen to the size of the egg she slipped on."
The king raised his scepter, then waved it in an arc, healing the girl's mother at once. “There, her pain is gone now,” he said as the girl’s eyes widened, and a smile spread across her face. She bowed, then turned to leave, and Magnifico remembered briefly why sorcery was a blessing.
But no sooner had the girl disappeared, than through the grand doors strode a middle-aged man with fox-like features and an air of impatience. A long travelling cloak billowed behind him as he marched with a walking stick up to the king, who studied him with a steady gaze.
"Your Majesty," the man began without even a bow, "I come to you with a request. I have heard of your power to grant wishes, and seek your aid."
The king leaned forward. Magnifico possessed an innate desire to help those in need, and often found it difficult to say no, but he grew weary since lately it was becoming clear that a fool who makes a wish often finds that what he desires has consequences.
"Well, go ahead.” Magnifico waved his hand. “Speak your wish.”
The man’s smile faltered for a moment, but he quickly recovered it, then said without shame, "I wish for absolute power. I desire to command armies, to rule with an iron fist, and to have the loyalty of every citizen."
Magnifico’s eyes narrowed, and his voice grew cold as he replied, “Such a wish speaks to ambition beyond measure. But power without wisdom is a path of which to be wary.”
“Sure, sure.” The peasant stood tall as he pulled a scroll from his cloak. “Now, let me be clear on the terms and conditions of this wish: no action, policy, or decree should be contested or overturned by any other entity. I require immunity from any form of legal or physical retribution. This wish should remain in effect for the duration of my lifetime, and extend to my successors, ensuring that the absolute power granted is maintained beyond my tenure. Once granted, this wish must be irrevocable to any changes or nullifications.”
The king’s gaze grew colder still. “I see,” he said. “You think you can waltz in here and demand absolute power with such brazen terms? Absolute authority is not a game to be played. It must be wielded with responsibility.”
The peasant smirked, and folded his arms. “Oh, please. Save the moralising. We’ve no objection to you as a wizard, you know, but as a king we hate you.”
King Magnifico’s heart rate quickened, but his voice remained even. “You are not just seeking to overthrow me; you are aiming to become a tyrant. Power without limits corrupts, and turns rulers into monsters. I will never allow this kingdom to be weakened by the hunger for control. I hereby decree your banishment. Guards, escort this man out of the palace, and ensure he departs from our borders immediately. Any attempt to defy this order will be met with execution. Let it be known our kingdom will always stand against the darkness of greed. We will remain a land of generosity and justice.”
As the king’s words echoed through the throne room, the guards stepped forward with practised ease. They seized the peasant by the arms, who, despite wriggling like a snake, was no match for their strength. The guards dragged him towards the gates.
“I will not be treated like this!” the man sputtered, flailing his arms. “I demand to speak to someone in charge!”
“I am in charge!” Magnifico banged his fist against his throne’s armrest. But he began to see that by giving gifts freely, even if he sat on the throne, his people wielded the power. He was constrained by the very magic that defined him, having to listen to a thousand such ridiculous requests a day. And most times, his subjects couldn't even get their teeth around the word 'thank you'.
King Magnifico knew things could not go on this way, and so that night, he asked for the counsel of the person he trusted most to advise him: his dear wife, Amaya, who he called to the top of the tallest tower in his palace.
Finish reading: https://archiveofourown.org/works/61920016
Chapter 3 of The Great Wish Movie Rewrite is up on AO3. Read here: Link
The rewrite explores Magnifico as the protagonist with Asha and Amaya as villains, and Star Boy comes into the story later.
In this chapter, Magnifico holds an interview and meets Asha for the first time.
Blurb: It was noon the following day, and Amaya had promised to return within the hour with the most promising candidate she’d been able to find. Magnifico waited in his Wish Chamber, a hidden chamber inside his observatory that stored every wish he’d been given, but never yet granted.
He reached out so one of the wishes alighted on his finger. The wisp flickered, leaving a trail like sparks of hope in its wake. The king admired the aspiration, and the sense of longing it radiated made his heart ache, like a tune somebody used to know, then forgot, and heard once again in the distance. He let the wish, light as dandelion fluff, ascend into the swirling cloud of others above him, where they danced in a radiant sky-revel, with stardust pirouettes and leaps.
Magnifico knew from poetry that wishes weren’t always what people should want, but rather, what they did want. They were mysterious flower buds that would unfold and unfold, and might never stop unfolding, until the world was overrun with the complications of them, unless someone did something to stop their consequences.
His people needed to trust his wisdom, for he’d spent the last eighteen years studying the complexities of fate, and now recognised when the time was not right for a wish to unfold. The most challenging aspect of being a sorcerer was dealing with the unanswered wishes, because his subjects could fervently ask for something, believing it to be good and necessary, yet it was not always what was truly best for them. But why their wishes remained unanswered was a mystery to them.
“I opened Pandora’s box by learning sorcery to grant wishes, but now I have a key, and can lock it up again when I need to,” the king told himself, though he was never at peace despite the fact. “But soon,” he leaned against a windowsill, “I will have someone to assist me, should anything go wrong. . .”
Amaya had told him the candidate's name, and assured him that this time, she had complete confidence in her abilities. What had she said the candidate’s name was again?
Gently, Magnifico traced the brass filigree of an old armillary sphere, its interlocking rings representing the orbits of celestial bodies. He studied its familiar patterns, remembering his own days as an apprentice, guided by his mentor's steady hand, and he listened to the faint, melodic hum of the wishes’ hopeful song. It filled him with peace.
A jarring shriek pierced through their tune. Magnifico spun so fast his sphere toppled off its perch on the table.
“Someone is in my tower.”
Despite the horrific noise, the king made his expression calm, though a sinking sense of dread filled him as he feared for each delicate piece of equipment in his observatory. “I suppose this is the best candidate Amaya could find,” he thought sarcastically. “I should never have allowed our meeting to take place here. What was Amaya thinking? Well, I’ve got to give them a chance. . .”
But as Magnifico emerged from his Wish Chamber, the picture was worse than the one his imagination had leant him. A young woman had stumbled in with the grace of a toddler, and attempted to make contact with his book of forbidden magic, evident from enchanted wasps encircling her, which he’d conjured as a safety precaution, to materialise if anyone but him touched the glass case protecting the manuscript.
The girl swatted her arms like a wild monkey, continuing to shriek as the enchanted wasps buzzed in a menacing symphony around her, and Magnifico felt a wave of pity, because she thought they could sting when they were only meant to confuse and to scare. He’d almost raised his voice to yell, but the girl was turning pink, clearly embarrassed, and Amaya had thought her worthy of coming here. There could still be virtue underneath, in spite of this careless accident. He mustered patience.
“No, no,” he laughed, making his presence known as he reentered his observatory. “Asha, is it? That book is forbidden.” Though he hurried forward, he maintained a calm composure. “Now hold still. I’ve got it.” As he raised his hands to summon the swarm, he tried to make light of her mistake. “You can’t have known, but I put, ahem, a spell on the glass guarding this book. It is actually very, very dangerous.”
“Dangerous? Then why would you have it?” Asha, still waving her arms, sounded as if she was going to cry. “I only wanted to touch the etchings around the glass because they were pretty.”
She was so worked up she slipped, and almost kicked King Magnifico in the face just as he’d gathered all the wasps into his hands. Before they could force their way from his grasp, he called up all the magic he could, and shot them back at the case, which they melted into, becoming nothing but ornate carvings once again.
Magnifico sighed as he shut the case, then he rubbed his hands off on his robes. “A king must be prepared for everything. I hope there will never be a time this book needs to be used. Are you all right?”
“No,” said Asha, in what sounded like a whine.
Magnifico was going to overlook this, but then Asha ploughed on in a show-offish sort of ramble, “I mean yes. And I understand if you think I’m, like, totally weird and you want me to leave right now and never show my face again.”
“That would certainly be for the best,” thought Magnifico, but Amaya’s words made him curious whether Asha actually had some mysterious talent not obvious at first sight. “Let’s not over react,” he said instead. “You’re here; you’ve certainly got my attention.” He turned, and wriggled his fingers so a quill leapt into the air, ready to take notes on a bit of parchment he’d laid out on a desk.
“So go ahead; tell me why you think you should be my apprentice.” He waited with hope in his heart.
“Well,” said Asha, in the tone of someone telling a joke to their friends, “I care too much.” Then she paused, as if waiting for a laugh.
“Ookay,” said Magnifico, as hope packed its bags and took a one way trip from his heart. He waited for her to say something else, anything to imply she had some selfless intention, but she just continued staring, as if waiting for a reaction.
“That’s interesting,” said Magnifico finally.
“It’s my weakness,” she burst out, and looked so pleased with herself Magnifico thought she was going to laugh at her own incompetence.
“I see.”
“Figured I might as well get through all the bad stuff right up front,” she ruined her own joke by blabbering on too long. She was clearly used to being surrounded by a group of friends who laughed at everything she said, and was trying quite hard to be quirky.
“Fair enough.” Magnifico already couldn’t wait to send her away. This was not the way someone with common sense acted before the king. It reminded him far too much of eighteen years earlier, when no one had shown him any respect. But he would get through the rest of the interview for Amaya’s sake. He breathed out. “And your strengths? Do you have any?”
“Glad you asked, I have many.” Asha brushed her box braids behind her ear, then pulled a vellum book from her pocket. “I’m a hard worker, and I help well, and I’m young and malleable, and I like to draw.”
Magnifico grasped for something in all these cliches. “You like to draw?” he latched onto the most useful of these irrelevant skills. “And how long have you had this ability?”
At this, the first glimpse of sincerity appeared in Asha’s eyes, and she opened her book to detailed life gestures she’d sketched of goats and lambs. “A long time.” She flipped through more pages of life-like scribbles. “It’s something my father taught me,” she told the king with a proud smile.
When Asha said this, a distant, half forgotten memory stirred inside Magnifico, and he peered closer at the young woman's annoying face.
“I think I remember your father.”
“You do?”
“He was a philosopher, was he not? Had great magic running through his blood. Always warning people about the consequences of getting whatever your heart desires.”
Asha’s eyes glazed over at the last part, but she eagerly started talking about herself again. “Oh yeah. We used to climb that tree by the high ridge in the Hamlet, where I’m from, to look at the stars, and he said they were there to guide us.”
“Your father said a lot more than soft soap like that. He was a very wise man. Did you learn much about his philosophies?”
“Not really. After he got struck by lightning, he wasn’t able to take me out at night as much anymore. I used to want to make a wish that he would get better. But the electric shock left him with lots of burns, and his heart finally stopped one day.”
“I’m sorry. How old were you when he passed away?”
“I was twelve years old.”
Magnifico finally glimpsed something recognisable in Asha, so he attempted to dig a bit deeper.
“It’s not fair, is it?” he asked, taking a gamble as he searched her face for that sincerity again. “When I was young, I too suffered great loss.” He wasn't sure Asha would pay attention as the subject changed to something other than herself, but he went on, determined to finish, because whether she listened at this moment would decide everything.
“Years ago, my entire family was killed by selfish, greedy thieves, and our lands were reduced to ashes,” he told her. “The devastation was beyond imagining. The streets, once bustling with life, were strewn with the bodies of those I once loved. Though the village I’d roamed was silent, I could still hear sobbing of ghosts, of my mother and my father, my brothers and sisters, and my friends. Not a day passes without the haunting thought: if only I had known sorcery then. . .” The king shuddered as the faces of his lost kin grew clear in his memories. He looked hard into Asha’s eyes. "It is for this reason, Asha, that the very foundation of this kingdom is built upon the belief that no one should ever experience the agony of watching their dreams crumble before their eyes. I vowed to create a haven where everyone would be safe, where the horrors of my past would never befall another.”
Magnifico paused to see whether she was listening.
Asha had finally stopped rocking back and forth, and looked contemplative. When the king stopped talking, she blinked. “You’re right,” she managed. “No one should live their life feeling the pain of that loss everyday.”
The king nodded. “Yes. Exactly. And that is why I do what I do.”
Asha’s voice was serious when she replied, “And that’s why I want to work for you.”
Perhaps it was his imagination, or his own good heart deceiving him, but at that moment, Magnifico was overwhelmed, and his heart melted a little. “Come with me,” he said, and led Asha toward the tower’s back wall, where he raised an arm so the stones shifted and slid apart, and his Wish Chamber revealed itself.
“Wow,” said Asha as blue light poured over her, and the domed chamber shone upon her in all its heavenly glory.
“You’re one of the few I’ve ever invited in here.” Magnifico led her inside with sweeping strides. “But if I am to trust you, I need you to understand just how important the wishes of Rosas are.” He glanced at his guest, and was pleased to see her expression was properly impressed, her eyes wide, and her mouth shut. “You can feel them, can’t you?”
“I can,” she whispered. “They’re, uh, everything.”
“That’s exactly it. These wishes are everything.” Magnifico paused to let her take in the brilliance of them.
“I didn’t expect them to feel so alive.” Asha reached out toward the tangible essence of someone’s deepest aspiration: a woman cradling a violin in her arms inside the orb. She shivered as the woman created the beautiful music of someone who’d put in countless hours of practice, each pluck of a string evoking a yearning that transcended the material world around them.
Magnifico laughed a deep laugh at Asha’s first impression. “They fill you with so much longing, don’t they? But that one would do no good to grant. Ambition untempered by effort stifles the growth of character. Denying someone the trials and triumphs of their journey robs them of the refinement of their soul. To grow in virtue is to become something more beautiful than even the most vibrant vibrations of violin strings.”
Finish reading: Link
Excerpt 2:
Something tall and green swayed under the beating sun. If one looked closely, they might have thought it was a preying mantis or circus performer. Some might have even said it looked like a thirty-nine-and-a-half-foot pole stuffed in greasy green alligator skin.
The truth was that it was an old man who was a particular shade of green standing over a sprout. The only other color he wore was in the form of an extremely fluffy pink scarf. It was a good thing he didn't need food anymore, and when he slept, just sat down on the tree stump behind him. Each morning, he would stand up before the sun, so that when it rose, its light would be filtered through him.
The old man could be observed following this routine for exactly eight months, a young boy bringing him supplies every so often.
There were moments when the old man feared they were losing the battle. A week of cloudy skies meant no sunlight at all, and the young sprout drooped as if in despair. "Patience," the boy would say, reminding Once-ler of the very lesson he was still learning. "Patience, and we’ll get there."
When a sudden frost threatened to kill the sapling, Once-ler and the boy worked through the night, covering it with their own bodies and whatever scraps they could find. "We’re so close now," the boy whispered, teeth chattering. "It can’t all be for nothing."
The routine of watering the seed with butterfly milk every four hours, even through the night, began to wear on Once-ler’s frail body. His old bones creaked and his muscles burned. But he didn’t stop; he couldn’t stop. Each drop of milk was like a promise—a promise to the Lorax, to himself, and to the valley he’d betrayed.
Things continued this way until the sprout grew into a sapling of three feet. Then the job was complete. Although it wouldn't be a full grown Truffula for at least a hundred years, it was at least likely to survive till then. And if it didn't… Well, a hundred other sprouts had a fighting chance.
Crackling lights filled the sky, akin to a firework show or the northern lights. If one squinted they could see an orange speck growing bigger and bigger in their midst.
Once-ler turned his eyes up, and smiled.
Their presence was subtle at first—a rustle in the underbrush, a distant hum, the flutter of wings in the fading light. Then an array of creatures emerged from the fog, their steps dissolving the smog as they went.
Birds of vibrant plumage like orange peacocks soared overhead, leaving blue streaks in the gray. Sunlight poured through their trails, anointing the earth in gold where snails crawled on their bellies and toads walked on their hind legs. A butterfly with spots like a cow alighted Once-ler's shoulder, and the old man smiled.
Where ancient trees had once stood tall, the barren landscape was suddenly filled again with life. Colorful rabbits and squirrels scurried through the underbrush, while elk roamed the open field. A reddish bear the size of a child's toy wrapped its arm around Once-ler's leg and purred as the humming-fish sang in a soothing choir.
It would take a long time, longer than Once-ler would live, until the valley was fully back to the way it had once been. But it would be someday. The boy who looked like Once-ler would be able to appreciate it soon enough. He had never asked what his name was…
A throat cleared itself behind him. Once-ler turned around to look at the Lorax whose feet hung over the UNLESS stones where he was seated.
"Thank you for restoring the light. Where once was dark, now all is bright. While time rolled on, seeds were sown. A whisper of hope is being grown. Thank you, my friend, for starting anew. Truth be told, I missed you too."
THANK YOU SO MUCH EVERYONE WHO READ THIS, LEFT KUDOS, COMMENTS, BOOKMARKS, ETC!!!!! I CAN'T BELIEVE THE GREAT LORAX REWRITE IS FINALLY COMPLETE!
Excerpt:
He spent his days staring at the tally marks he'd scratched into the walls. They sprawled unevenly, some deep gouges, others mere scratches. He counted them again and again, fingers tracing the jagged lines, as he mumbled under his breath. "One... two... three... four..." His voice faltered and he started over. "One… two… thr—no, wait." He could only pray his count remained slightly accurate as the years went by.
Once he saw movement out of the corner of his eye, a flash of green in the broken shard of metal that hung from the wall. He whipped his head around, only to see his own reflection glaring back at him. But it wasn’t him—it was that other him. The green, twisted version, eyes hollow and black like two bottomless pits.
"What do you want?" he whispered. "Why won’t you just leave me alone?" The reflection only smiled, a slow, creeping grin before crawling slowly away.
At night, the walls breathed. That’s what it sounded like to Once-ler—a long, wheezing inhale, a brittle exhale. The wind rushed through the gaps with ghostly arms that reached for him. He woke up, shivering, convinced he heard humming-fish singing just outside.
"Hush! Quiet, they’re back!" he whispered to himself. Pressing his ear to the walls, the cold metal bit into his skin. All he heard was the wind. He slumped back down, knees pulled to his chest. "They were here," he murmured, rocking back and forth. "I know they were here…"
Desperate for routine, every morning, Once-ler reached for the rope he’d rigged to a bucket. It wasn’t for food or water—those needs had faded—he pulled it up just to see if the world had sent him something, anything. Most days, it came up empty, swinging in the breeze like a useless pendulum. Once or twice, he found a few broken pieces of old advertisements. He kept them, not because they were useful, but because they were better than nothing.
The gloves fused to his hands were another enemy he could never beat. They itched and burned, the skin underneath painful and raw. He scratched at the seams until his fingers bled, trying to tear them off. However, the fabric wouldn’t budge. "Get it off, get it off!" he screamed. He tore at his flesh until exhaustion took him.
The days twisted and knotted together into an indecipherable net, ensnaring him. Once-ler sat in his corner, and all he could think was, "Willingly. I chose all of it willingly."
He wondered if the Lerkim would be his tomb. Or if, by some cruel twist of fate, he’d live forever within its rusted walls, alone with the ghosts of choices that could never be unmade.
The only other thing left to do was the thing he did most of all: Contemplate the meaning of the stones. "Unless." Unless what? he wondered.
Unless he changed his ways?
Unless he somehow escaped?
Unless he said he was sorry?
Unless the humming-fish had been trying to warn him?
Unless the Truffula trees were still out there, watching?
Unless the wind has been whispering the answer all along?
Unless his reflection knew the truth and he didn’t?
Unless the rain spoke a language he couldn't hear?
Unless the Lorax never left and was invisible?
Unless everything that was happening was a dream?
"Unless," Once-ler whispered again, as his brain overheated with puzzlement. "Unless... I was never meant to understand."
(Read the rest on ao3).
--------
I CAN'T BELIEVE THIS IS DONE! For over I a decade I would see people complain about this movie and how it could be better. I would see posts about how people were going to rewrite it, but they never really did beyond summaries. Now I've finally finished this, so my life is complete. This is the longest fanfiction that I took the most seriously finishing. Thank you for all the kudos, comments, bookmarks, etc. that I didn't know if it would get.
Me and my coauthor on this account are hoping to create more rewrites after this. Currently, we're almost done with the first draft of a rewrite of Disney's Wish. We're aiming to start releasing it around Christmas, depending on how things go.
THANK YOU TO EVERYONE WHO READ THIS STORY! Please let me know if you have any feedback about how you liked this rewrite. We'll take it into account for how we handle rewrites in the future.
Once-ler turns evil. Gets dark at the end. Read the whole thing on Ao3. Excerpt:
It was nice when he could get a second guitar without even thinking about it. Perhaps even nicer than it would have been to someone who didn't have heartbreaking memories of always being told his parents couldn't afford a good one for him. After all, hadn't it been just the other day he'd asked for one on his eighth birthday in front of the music store window and gotten tears in his eyes when his dad told him no?
He didn't have any memories of clothes-shopping as a child either. All he'd gotten was hand-me-downs for short people from his church's charity drives. Surely other people had always gotten measured at tailors to get jackets and trousers of the highest quality to fit them perfectly. This, of course, justified the exorbitant bill when he bought a new designer wardrobe complete with extra tall top hats in his favorite black and bright green colors.
It turned out, the world was full of things he'd never been able to appreciate before he'd had money:
Clothes, drinks, cars, trips, events. There were so many more opportunities when you weren't just a poor helpless urchin…
He would never go back to being poor. Never. He was even worse than his Ma, after a short time.
"Oncie, don't ya think maybe we could take a day off to have a family picnic and celebrate the end of summer like in the old days?" she said to him one day.
Once-ler looked up from the photos he was studying for a new billboard advertisement. He'd almost settled on what he thought was a charismatic picture of himself with his arms spread wide and an eye-popping grin on his face, though Brett had remarked it made him look rather possessed.
"Ha!" He slammed down the photos. "You mean the old days when we were poor and miserable? Why don't we take the whole week off and have a real party? Or better yet, a month-long tropical vacation?"
His Ma blinked. "Sounds real nice, honey, but who's gonna run the company? Didn't you just get back from a cruise? Ain't ya gettin' just a little too extravagant these days?"
"Who cares? I'm rich! We got a million employees now. Besides I deserve it cuz of all the sufferin' I went through before."
This excuse got less impressive by the day as Once-ler's new luxuries quickly outweighed any misery he'd previously endured. His identity as a lower class citizen faded even more quickly from his own memory and personality than it did into the past.
"I'm so glad that in the last year I was finally able to discover the real me," was something he'd told everyone in his family more than once since they'd returned. It never occurred to him that what he meant was: "I'm so glad I finally have money to do whatever I want without any consequences."
***
2nd excerpt:
"I just wanted to tell you, the Barbaloots are dying."
Something got through the iron-clad self absorption that had enclosed Once-ler for the last few months. He was surrounded by terrible people all the time now, but when harm fell upon innocent creatures, it was different. He remembered the little Barbaloot that had given him a hug after the fiasco in the river.
"What do you mean dying? How can they be… Surely they're not actually dying ?"
"There was something in the water that made 'em sick. Something from your factory that set in quick. It's making 'em not move and lay around. And some of 'em…" There were tears in the Lorax's eyes. "Some of 'em ain't gettin' up from the ground."
READ THE FULL THING ON AO3!!!
Super late post today, but here it is! THIS PART IS THE MOST SAD. The movie didn't make enough consequences for his actions.
Excerpt:
"How've you been, sir? Are you doing well, Mr. Once-ler?" a forlorn voice asked.
Once-ler spun around. "You?!”
The Lorax didn't say anything for a while. The sound of rain over the balcony grew heavier as the storm rumbled behind him.
"Just came to look at the view. You've accomplished a lot, haven’t you?"
Once-ler backed away at the sound of thunder as the Lorax entered the office. The mossy old creature hopped onto his desk to stare at the model city. His torso was matted and streaked with grease. Wiry hairs stuck out from his mustache and eyebrows like bent broom bristles. The fur that had once had an attractive orange sheen was all brown now, caked with dirt, and had a damp, washed-out look. The Lorax might have been a chewed up jelly bean that had been spat back out.
"The Virtue of Selfishness," the Lorax read the title of one of Once-ler's books, stroking his mustache. "Lessons we could all learn from, I'd guess."
"You know what? I don't want to hear from you right now!" Once-ler yelled. "All you do is say everything is bad, and I'm really sick of it." He seized the Lorax and hoisted him under his arm, ignoring the creature's protests.
"It's not just the trees I'm trying to save,” the Lorax’s voice cracked, “but you, from digging your own grave."
Once again, the door wouldn't open when Once-ler tried it, and the alarm wouldn't go off when he pulled it. But he wasn’t going to be defeated. He carried the Lorax to the balcony and held him at arm's length. The Lorax hovered over dark hills that had been uniformly sheared—bristly white stumps where once had been trees dotted the shaved hills of dead grass. Advanced axe-hackers rolled by like monsters, searching for more wood that they couldn't find, before wheeling away to look deeper into the mist.
"Are you going to kill me?" asked the Lorax.
"I know you're causing the storms," growled Once-ler, shaking him. "The thunder that never stops, the lightning that strikes my tower. And all the clouds that have that same purple hue as when…" He trailed off, remembering the first tree he'd cut down, when he'd first seen the Lorax come out of the sky.
If it wasn't for that day, he'd have believed the Lorax was no more than a funny animal like the Barbaloots or humming-fish, with a higher cognitive level and more annoying voice box. But it had been the sight of him that day, coming out of the sky with a terrible look in his eyes, that, as much as he tried to forget, made Once-ler secretly terrified he really was a deity.
His hands trembled as the Lorax's beetle black eyes bored into his, suddenly looking very old and very powerful. Once-ler wondered if it was even possible for the Lorax to die. “Whatever you're doing, I want you to stop it. Right now," he growled, not recognizing his own voice. With each word, he leaned closer over the edge of the balcony.
"Why?" asked the Lorax. "You don’t seem to care how your own actions are fouling the air."
"Yer rusting up my factory. We got work to do. I’m the one in the legal right here. So make it stop." His face was close enough to feel the Lorax’s mustache.
The Lorax chuckled at this, legs dangling over the parapet. "Laws and codes, written by man. What have they to do with nature's plan? What have they to do with morals or your soul? Are laws the things that define all your goals?" His long, spindly hand slowly reached out and grabbed his tie.
Before Once-ler knew it, they were both falling. Through wind and rain they plummeted as the storm thickened. Soon a churning mist concealed everything around them as they tumbled through a funnel of purple clouds, a passage that went on much longer than Once-ler knew it should have.
As they spun round and round, reality evaporated. It was as if Once-ler was melting into the Lorax and the Lorax was melting into him, until nothing but a haze of orange and green remained. Then they unconnected, plunging their separate ways.
Once-ler's spine cracked against a pipe, and he bounced onto the black, dry riverbed where water no longer ran. His head spun; reality had not gone quite back to normal. Somehow they had survived the fall as if it had been merely from a playground, rather than half a mile from the tallest building in the city. His back, however, would never be quite the same. Sharp pains when he attempted to straighten himself told him it had been fractured.
The Lorax was standing on a rock, eyes aglow, fixed on his enemy. An army was growing around him of bloodied, skeletal birds missing patches of feathers, a few crinkled fish that had been too weak to leave, and the ghostly Barbaloots that hadn't died yet.
Once-ler choked, and limped behind a rock. "I don't want any trouble," he pleaded.
The Lorax gave a slight nod to the army behind him, and they marched somberly back into the gray expanse. As they trailed away, single file, Once-ler knew in his heart they were marching to their deaths. At the end of the line he spotted an animal he hadn't thought of in a long time. His old friend, Melvin.
"Hey…!" He crawled up to the trembling old animal that fell to the ground. Melvin put his head in Once-ler's lap. His coat was thin and sooty, breaths slow and tired. The eyes that met his master's were filled with sadness that slowly dimmed into an empty stare as his head slumped to the ground.
READ THE FULL CHAPTER ON AO3~!
I can't wait to finish posting the Lorax Rewrite so we can start posting the Wish Rewrite. It's really close to being finished!
original description:
"He was shortish. And oldish. And brownish. And mossy. And he spoke with a voice that was sharpish and bossy."
I'm gonna make him more mysterious than the movie in my fanfiction.
"Your presence here has run its course. Now heed my words, depart this place perforce. Ere sunset paints the valley's hue, begone, or nature's wrath you'll rue. Forces unleashed, a primal might, will curse you through eternal night. Beware, the warning's clear and grim. Your fate awaits if you stay within!"
Read here: Link
Blurb: Magnifico kept his shoulders back and head held high as he stepped through his castle’s arched entranceway, into the grand, circular courtyard’s expanse, onto the stage where he’d face his hardest task as king: choosing one person’s deepest desire out of the thousands of tear-wet, expectant faces peering back up at him.
He announced himself to the sea of breathless souls by casting spells with sweeping gestures. With each wave of a hand, radiant, variegated star showers unfurled through the air that transformed into delicate butterflies, and gasps of awe rippled through the courtyard as they left trails of sparkling hope behind them that rained down gently, in the king’s attempt to raise spirits before he would, inevitably, leave some of them broken-hearted, their sobs destined to disturb his dreams for years to come.
Magnifico’s voice, amplified by a spell, echoed across the courtyard. “My dear subjects.” He raised his arms as if to embrace. “On this enchanting night, as the stars illuminate our beloved kingdom, it is not only good to see you, but also an honour to be seen by you. I am deeply moved by the sight of all of you gathered here. Your presence brings warmth to my heart, and a profound sense of gratitude. In your faces, I find the strength and resilience that define our people, and it is your unwavering spirit that guides me in all I do."
Cheers rose to a crescendo, and tears glistened in the eyes of each person as they applauded the king who had brought them peace for nearly two decades.
Magnifico’s gaze shifted to his wife, who had just taken her place on the mainstage, and brought Asha with her as instructed. He gratefully nodded toward her, then turned back to the crowd.
“Now, we shall begin with a matter that concerns the heart and soul of our kingdom. We have two new citizens ready to give their wishes. Helena, Esteban, you are going to be very happy here, I promise you.” He extended a hand to welcome his new subjects who’d sailed from across the sea onto the stage.
The couple, still so young as to be untarnished by the joys and trials of parenthood, climbed the stairs to the stage. Magnifico looked into the eyes of the future of Rosas, and took the young woman’s hand into his own first.
“Now make a wish, and hold it in your heart.”
The woman closed her eyes, then opened her hand in the sorcerer’s, so they both began to glow. Her breathing relaxed as a terrible weight evaporated from her consciousness, and her wish materialised in her palm in the form of a glowing orb.
Her husband did the same in Magnifico’s other hand.
The king swept both wishes toward his chest. “It unburdens the soul, does it not?” Then he raised his arms so the wishes ascended into the sky, where they floated to join the others at the top of his tower. He smiled upon the husband and wife. “Perhaps I will stand here and make them realities one day.”
The man and woman smiled, and left the stage with a new spring in their steps, as if lighter than before.
Once again, Magnifico turned toward the place Amaya sat, and searched for signs on the face of the young woman next to her of understanding or empathy. Surely she’d grasped the weight of his ceremonial words, and the sacrifices they represented. But the young woman’s eyes were clouded, and her fingers fidgeted with the hem of her garment. She looked unmoved and unchanged.
Magnifico exhaled sharply, then turned back to his audience. "Thank you for your applause. Tonight, it brings me great joy to welcome these two new souls into our realm. They have passed through my Eclipse Enclosure, a barrier few are granted to cross. This shield is also a testament to the trust I place in those who enter. Not everyone finds their way through my curtain of star silt, yet here they stand, embraced by the safety I've woven. May their presence enrich our land as we share in the journey ahead."
The king waited as a roar of applause rose and fell, and he knew this was the real moment everyone had been waiting for. He released a final cascade of light from his fingertips that arced across the heavens in a concluding streak. “Now then, who is ready to have their wish granted?”
The crowd’s thunderous reaction was like a storm breaking out, as each person brought to mind their unique wish for a brighter dawn, and Magnifico knew that if witnessing this collective flame, igniting every heart, not solely your own, was not enough to stir someone, they must be beyond redemption in their selfishness.
For the last month, the king had sweated blood and tears discerning which wish he should choose, and deciding was no easier a task than it was any other ceremony. The wish had to be something genuinely harmless, yet selfless enough to make Rosas a better place. Wishes like this were surprisingly few and far between, as most people were not selfless, or wanted to twist fate too drastically. When he came across one that was selfless, but too drastic, his eyes often overflowed with sorrow at a young girl watching her mother die from illness, or a farmer whose crop had failed, who had lost everything he loved.
“It has been a challenge for me to make a final decision today,” he said without betraying emotion, “And it is with clarity and an open heart full of love that I grant today’s wish to someone who has very patiently waited long enough.”
Eyes were wide, breaths were bated, and the courtyard was so quiet you could hear a pin drop.
“Sania Osman,” said Magnifico. “Step forward now.”
There were gasps and murmurs, and the crowd slowly parted to reveal a young lass with burning joy on her face.
“Is it really me?” She came forward, swaying as if she would faint. “What have I done to deserve it? Can this actually be?” She was helped onto the stage by those around her when she threatened to fall off her feet.
Magnifico outstretched an arm to help her up. “I mean it when I say, it truly is my great pleasure to grant your heart’s desire, to sew the most beautiful dresses in all the land. It is a rare and noble heart that seeks to bring beauty and joy to others with such selfless devotion."
In the background, Asha was clenching her fists as if ready to throw a fit.
“Never, ever get your hopes up.” A sarcastic whisper came from a clique of teenagers lounging at the courtyard’s side. Their whispers and stifled laughs sliced through the solemn silence, drawing disapproving glances. To crown it all, one of them wiped his nose disrespectfully on his sleeve in front of everyone.
Finish reading here: Link
Just two writers who like to rewrite stories either to make them better or for an experiment.
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