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tiredspacedragon · 8 months ago

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Kulbok sat in his hut, rubbing his still-aching head. It had been almost two days since the Toa Inika had freed him and his fellow Matoran from the effects of the Piraka's Zamor Spheres, and though he felt mostly recovered, his head still sometimes pounded with fleeting traces of strange, dark thoughts. He recalled little from his time enslaved, only a ringing blankness, broken occasionally by flashes of a universe in ruin, dark ocean depths, and a pair of lidless, red eyes hanging in the night sky.

A knock at the doorway drew the Bo-Matoran from his reverie, and he looked up to see a white mask peeking through the entrance.

"Widget for your thoughts," said Kvoleni, hovering on the threshold. Normally she wouldn't bother waiting for an invitation to make herself at home, but recent events had left all the Matoran of Voya Nui uncertain. Kulbok motioned for her to come in, and the Vo-Matoran joined him on his cot. They sat there saying nothing for a long moment.

"How are you feeling?" Kvoleni tried again. This time, Kulbok sighed.

"My head's still kinda funny, but I'm managing," he finally answered. "You?"

"Better," she said. "Not great, but better."

"Yeah. I think that's pretty much everyone right now." The way he said it, it was clear Kulbok had intended the words to be light, but the strain in his voice, and the truth of the statement, undermined his attempt at levity. Still, Kvoleni graced him with a chuckle.

"We've certainly been worse!" she said.

The two Matoran allowed silence to settle over them again. Even on happier days, their conversations often had a similar rhythm. One would speak, then the other, then a pause. To laugh, or think over each other's words, or simply to allow the quiet its turn. It had been a habit of theirs for several hundred years now.

Eventually, Kvoleni spoke again. "I heard some of the others say the Toa have returned from underground. They were headed to the bay, from what I can tell."

Kulbok's head shot up. "The bay? What would they want there?" He hesitated a moment. "You don't think...?"

Kvoleni shook her head. "No. They were chasing something, I think."

"Right. Of course," Kulbok said. "They're Toa. They surely have more important things to do than..."

"Chase ghosts?"

"Yeah."

The two Matoran were silent again.

"I mean," Kvoleni started, "we could try asking them to look. I heard--"

"No," Kulbok cut her off. "We shouldn't bother them. Besides, what would there even be to find?"

Kvoleni started to say something in response, but seemed to think better of it, and said nothing.

The sound of a commotion outside suddenly drew the Matoran's attention. They glanced at each other before hurrying out into the village square. A small crowd had gathered there, whispering and murmuring amongst themselves as they watched a huge being, clad in thick red-and-silver armour, tread slowly towards them.

That must be Axonn, Kulbok thought. He had heard Balta, one of the only Matoran to have evaded the Piraka's clutches, mention the armoured titan. Supposedly, he was an ally, but the grim look in his eyes brought Kulbok no comfort as Axonn entered the village.

The tall figure stood before the Matoran, towering above them. He opened his mouth to speak, but before he could, a strangled shout rang out from the back of the crowd.

Kulbok jumped back in surprise at Kvoleni's cry. She darted forward, pushing through the crowd towards Axonn with a desperate urgency. Kulbok followed, confused. What had possessed her to run straight for this powerful-looking stranger? As Kulbok approached, he was able to see the armoured warrior more clearly, and noticed that he appeared to be carrying something, cradled in one of his massive arms.

Breaking through the crowd, the Bo-Matoran saw Axonn kneel to meet Kvoleni as she reached him. He held out his burden to her, and finally Kulbok saw

* * *

The Ta-Matoran's name was Ranta.

Long ago, an injury had resulted in him being sent to the realm of Karzahni for repairs, where, like many others before and after him, the ruler of that land attempted to rebuild him into a stronger form, and failed. Though his injury was healed, Ranta's new body was smaller and weaker than his original form, hunched and misshapen. Disgusted with his work, and unable to bear being reminded of his failure, Karzahni had given Ranta and his fellow "repaired" Matoran weapons to defend themselves, and shipped them away, far from his isolated kingdom. Eventually, they had settled in the center of the Southern Continent, in a barren region around the volcano known as Mount Valmai. The Matoran called the region "Voya Nui," meaning "Great Voyage," after the long journey it had taken them to reach this place where they could live in relative peace.

It was there that Ranta had become close with two of his companions, the Bo-Matoran Kulbok, and the Vo-Matoran Kvoleni. Ranta was a quiet sort, but unflinchingly courageous, and his subtle brand of intensity had balanced out Kvoleni's more impetuous energy, while also letting the more reserved Kulbok feel comfortable enough to come out of his shell. Though the three of them were all originally from different lands, they quickly became all but inseparable. They lived, worked, and laughed together, and comforted each other when memories of their old homes and lives overwhelmed them. Even when the Great Cataclysm had struck, sending Voya Nui crashing upwards, killing dozens and leaving the new island adrift in the endless ocean above, the three Matoran stuck together.

But then came the city of Mahri Nui. Runoff from Mount Valmai had cooled into rock, resulting in the formation of a new landmass protruding out into Voya Nui Bay. The Matoran saw the new land as an opportunity to expand their settlement, and constructed many new dwellings there, where they lived for many years. All was well, but Ranta was uneasy. He was not a volcanologist by trade, but he had taken an amateur interest in the volcano, and over time became familiar with its workings and the makeup of its lava. Though he, Kulbok, and Kvoleni had remained in the Matoran Village on Voya Nui, in no small part due to Ranta's urging, the Ta-Matoran came to spend much of his time in and around Mahri Nui. He was convinced the cooled lava was unstable and unsafe, and regularly scoured the area for signs of faults or fractures. Most ignored or laughed at his concerns, and indeed for 700 years, Mahri Nui prospered.

It was on one of these scouting trips, that he was finally proven right.

The deafening sound of cracking stone echoed all across the island. The first split was small, but more quickly followed. Gaping crevices and yawning chasms spanned the length of the bay. Ranta ran screaming through the city streets, calling out for everyone to evacuate before the entire city was lost to the sea. Indeed, some heard his warnings in time, and safely made it back to the shores of Voya Nui, but most, including Ranta himself, did not. The rock heaved and broke, and Mahri Nui sank beneath the waves, down, down, to depths unimaginable, far below where any light could reach.

Since that day, the Matoran of Voya Nui would gather twice a year to throw offerings into the bay, in memory of their lost friends. For some, this brought comfort, though others, like Kulbok, never truly found closure. They knew there was no hope that Mahri Nui had survived its descent, but the loss of hundreds of lives in only a matter of minutes was too much to accept. It felt unreal, like a dream from which they'd never quite managed to awaken.

For the Matoran of Mahri Nui, the gifts from above were also like something out of a dream.

Against all odds, the city had survived, landing on an underwater cliff and disturbing a field of Airweed, which released massive air bubbles that surrounded the settlement, saving the inhabitants from drowning. The shock of the catastrophe damaged the Matoran's fragile memory, and while many had vague recollections of where they had originally come from, none could recall their lives on Voya Nui, or how they came to reside in the Black Water.

Ranta was bothered by this gap in his memory more than most. All the Matoran of Mahri Nui knew they were missing something, but Ranta felt compelled to seek it out, that there was something he had to return to, but he could not remember what. He lived a mostly innocuous life in the underwater city, never joining the Mahri Nui Council and preferring the less public work of a sentry. He made a few friends, but none of them seemed to share his drive, and he often spent his free time exploring the caves at the base of the Cord on his own.

The Cord was Mahri Nui's only link to the surface world, a narrow, hollow tube made of cooled lava from Mount Valmai that connected the sunken city to Voya Nui, though neither Matoran population knew this. The Matoran of Voya Nui were not aware of its existence at all, and the Matoran of Mahri Nui could not see how far up it went, and did not dare leave the safety of their air bubbles long enough to find out. If the threat of drowning when their personal air bubbles ran out was not enough to deter most, the Black Water was infested with deadly sea creatures, bizarre, twisted Rahi and other beasts the Matoran did not recognize.

Ranta, however, was not so easily cowed. He did not enter the Cord itself; enough Matoran more foolhardy than he had tried, and none had returned; but he did swim alongside it, up and up, further with each trip. But he always turned back. He knew that past a certain point, he would not have enough air to make it back to Mahri Nui, and he still had no idea how far away the surface may be. So he would turn back, and tell his friends that maybe he'd make it to the surface next time. They teased him each time he did, feigning disappointment at his failed "surface runs," but in truth, they thanked the Great Spirit each time he returned.

He was missed the day he did not.

As the waters around Mahri Nui grew more dangerous with each passing year, with unseen threats pressing in from all sides, Ranta risked fewer and fewer trips along the Cord. He spent more time on guard duty, keeping watch on the city borders for whatever monsters may slink out of the darkness. But he still felt the pull, the compulsion to seek out what he was missing, and one day, he made his final trip.

As always, he pushed a little farther than he had before, but this time, before he turned back, he caught sight of a glinting object falling through the water, illuminating the gloom around it. He watched it for a moment, entranced, before he noticed a tall figure swimming down after it. For a moment, Ranta was elated. He had seen a Toa before, many many years ago, and recognized the figure as one immediately. Perhaps with her help, his city could be saved. And, if she was here, than he must be near the surface, closer than he had dared hope. But his hope quickly vanished as the Toa began to thrash.

Her name was Toa Inika Hahli, and she was drowning.

Just as he had 300 years before, Ranta spared no thought for his own safety, and charged forward. He grabbed the Toa around the waist and kicked upward with all his might, fighting his way up towards the steadily growing light, until at last he broke the surface, and felt the light of the setting sun on his armour for the first time in centuries. And for the last time.

Had he run out of air lower down, Ranta would not have perished as he had always thought he would. The mutagenic effects of the Black Water would have transformed him into a water-breather, and he would have become a creature of the sea, able to swim wherever he wished. But the Matoran had forgotten how the water had begun to change them when Mahri Nui first sank, how it had undone the work of Karzahni and restored them to stronger, fitter forms, and Ranta's air ran out well above the level the mutagen reached. The seawater that filled his lungs would do nothing to save him. And while the body of the Toa of Water he carried was more durable, and naturally more suited to rapid changes in pressure, his was not. Combined with exhaustion from carrying the weight of a being nearly twice his size, and Ranta never stood a chance. He collapsed on the beach, barely managing to beg the other Toa who received him there to help his city before his heartlight faded to black, and he was gone.

The mighty warrior Axonn, agent of the Order of Mata Nui, carried Ranta's body back to the Matoran Village after sending the Toa Inika on their way down the Cord to Mahri Nui. No sooner had he set foot in the village square than Kvoleni and Kulbok were at their friend's side. His armour and body were different, but they recognized him immediately, and wept at the impossibility. Ranta had come home to them, and they would never see him again.

* * *

Grief, the being noted as he watched the memorial service. Burial and associated ceremonies had never been programmed into the Matoran, but those who dwelt on Voya Nui had developed them independently after the crash once it became clear the bodies of the deceased would no longer simply disappear as they had before. The being made a point of observing them whenever they occurred. He found the ways in which the Matoran behaved after the loss of another whom they "cared" about to be fascinating. Such an accurate facsimile of mourning.

As the crowd dispersed, the being turned his gaze to the two specimens who had led the rite. A Bo-Matoran, designation Kulbok, and a Vo-Matoran, designation Kvoleni. They stood huddled close together before the grave of the deceased, a Ta-Matoran, designation Ranta. Exactly how the Ta-Matoran had survived for this long after the sinking of Mahri Nui, and how he had attained his stronger form were mysteries to the being, though he suspected they would not remain so for long.

The two Matoran stood together for a long time before they finally turned to leave and saw the being watching them.

"Velika, right?" the Vo-Matoran asked with surprise. "We're sorry, we didn't notice you there. Did...did you know him too?"

The being cocked his head. The two were clearly uncomfortable with his presence; the Vo-Matoran's motions and words were hesitant, and the expression the Bo-Matoran wore was a marvellous reproduction of anger. Perhaps they saw him as intruding on a private moment.

So he turned and left. He would allow them their privacy. There would be time enough to study them later, and there was still much else to do.

#tsdwrites #bionicle #bonkle #i wrote something!#only fanfic but it counts!#my brain hates it but i am ignoring it #it's here and i did it #that's what counts #also yeah this is all angst lmao #lots of trauma #sorry 'bout that #anyway #had fun playing with different perspectives here #i imagine in an audio setting all three parts would be read by different people #enjoy!

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tj-crochets · 10 months ago

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How do you make stuffed animals? I’ve bought a pattern for less complicated animals, but you made that blorbo and I don’t think there are any templates for that? What should be my next step in developing my animal making skills?

Hey! This answer is probably going to get pretty long, so it's going below a read more

You're right, I did not use a pre-existing pattern for the blorbo plushie. There's a couple different methods people use to create plushie patterns; if you find you don't like the method I use, that doesn't mean you can't make plushies! Keep trying until you find methods that work for you In my experience, the best way to develop skills in plushie pattern making is to sew a bunch of different plushies. While you use patterns, look at how the pieces look in 2D on the paper and how the end up in 3D in the finished plushie, and start to make a note of what it takes to make simple 3D shapes like a sphere (darts or different segments), a cube (six squares), a cylinder (a rectangle with two circles for the end pieces) If creating a new pattern entirely from scratch seems too much to start with, you can repurpose pieces of other patterns*! I've got a fluffy ostrich-y bird pattern that's just a pattern for a round dumpling for the body, a pattern for a...I think it was a snowball for the head, and then some simple rectangles to make the cylinders of the neck and legs. Another thing! A lot of plushie pattern making for simpler plushies made of knit fabric is just drawing. My manta ray patterns are just a drawing of a manta ray, plus a seam allowance added around the outside. Same with my eel pattern (mostly. it has one dart), my fish pattern, my other manta ray pattern...there's a lot of patterns you can make flat when you're starting out and use stuffing and the stretch of the fabric to make 3D. It's still what I use for simple flat pieces of patterns like wings, arms, ears, etc. That reminds me: seam allowances! I use 1/4" seam allowances, because that's what my sewing machine is set up for and it's the most common seam allowance I've seen used for plushies. You can use whatever seam allowance you want, but I have found it's a loooot easier if you have a tool you can use to add your seam allowance once you've drawn your pattern. I use two mechanical pencils taped together whose points are 1/4" apart. I put one pencil on the line I drew for the pattern, and use the other pencil to draw the line of the seam allowance. A few other tips, in no particular order but numbered so I can keep track of them 1. when matching up pieces of a pattern, make sure they match before the seam allowance is added. It'll make your life easier 2. fold paper to get symmetry in your pattern pieces 3. if you need to match a straight line to a curved line, or two curved lines together, you can use a pipe cleaner to measure the length of the curved line and then straighten the pipe cleaner to know how long to make your straight line (like matching the bottom of legs (rectangular pieces) to feet (circular pieces)) 4. If you are creating a pattern to use with a particular fabric, check how much of the fabric you have BEFORE you draw the pattern just like an inch too long to cut out of the fabric (I learned the hard way lol) 5. if you are worried your pattern won't turn out how you want it to, you can always start with monsters. There's no wrong way to make a monster plushie, you can just accidentally make a different monster than the one you intended to make. It's still a monster plushie, and that's not a bad thing to make! :D 6. if you have multiple pattern pieces coming together at the same point, like the top of a beach ball or the top of my octopus pattern, think about what angle you want that junction to form. For the octopus, I wanted the very top of it to be flat, so I made sure the pieces coming together totaled 360 degrees to be a flat circle. If I'd gone for less than 360 degrees, it would be pointed, if I'd gone for more, it would be kind of ruffled? Almost? Point is: divide the angle you want by the number of pieces you want to form that angle to get what the angle should be at the point each piece comes together *don't sell patterns made from pieces of other peoples' patterns though

#ask away!#weasel-the-scout #how to create sewing patterns #sort of. this is very freeform as I thought of it #if you (or anyone else) have more questions please feel free to ask!

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crunchyfield · 1 year ago

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What is Minecraft's gravitational constant value ?

This post is a follow up to this one, in which we found out Minecraft's acceleration due to gravity value :

When I say gravitational constant, I imply the one regarding players because it depends on the acceleration due to gravity which itself depends on entities in Minecraft (otherwise it's mostly inconsistant).

I'm not gonna lie this topic is way harder than its prequel, and I DID NOT see anything on the internet (not to say there isn't anything) talking about it (so if you wanna argue on smth pls source what your saying).. actually nobody really searched for Minecraft's gravitational constant value.

So here we are looking into that.

First of all, one thing to know is that a Minecraft world spreads over 30 million blocks in each direction of the orthonormal basis (here I'm referring to absolute distances) in 2 dimensions (in every direction except in altitude) :

From this we can calculate the area from a square-like perspective :

Now most people assume Minecraft´s earth to be a cubic planet but this would mean that a player falling from a certain height get a different falling time depending on the place you are (on corners especially).

After testing it out, I ended up noticing a player's falling time is approximately the same regardless of the place you fall from (from a given height) which only means one thing, Minecraft earth is a spherical planet (might sound very odd to you but it is indeed logical).

Besides, using the area we calculated and the sphere area formula, we can solve for the radius :

Since we have got both Minecraft earth's radius & Minecraft's acceleration due to gravity value, we can (re)try to use Newton's law of attraction :

Then after simplifying and solving for the gravitational constant with Newton's second law of motion, we still gotta figure out Minecraft's planet's density (as we can determine the volume, it's better to search for density rather than mass).

Unfortunately, substituting formulas in equations, making linear systems, the gravitational constant as well as the density always checked out :(

Even after introducing more formulas (like the kappa formula or the escape velocity formula) it couldn't be any more relevant :/

There seems to be something wrong but long after hours upon hours of researches (and dozen liters of sweat that could fulfill a whole swimming pool lol) I realised we could proceed by identification going back to this formula :

A product of 2 unknowns equals a constant (as g and the radius are known).. interesting...

Guess what, in order to proceed by identification, let's dispatch known parameters and constants as well :

Let's now see the numerical approximations of each physical quantities using real-world values beforehand :

Okay so what's important is to look at the scale order of the inverse of the radius, it's a 10^-7 order and it's pretty close to the actual universe's gravitational constant standing with a 10^-11 scale order.

So let us add a 10^3/10^3 in the following way :

We get to see that 1/(radius*10^3) has got (practically) a scale order of 10^-11.. we're steadily stepping towards the answer guys : )

I also want to point out g*10^3 and density p (rho) scale orders are even.

Which in fact means :

where :

If we break down π into sqrt(π) * sqrt(π) in this manner we get :

with :

Consequently, applying numerical values related to our real-life solar system & earth results in values infinitesimally nearing the actual approxs (it's demonstrated through relative gap calculations being less than 1 %) ;)

hence :

respective relative gaps :

Furthermore, since we study Minecraft's earth planet, we can use the previous final formulas to calculate approximations of both Minecraft's planet related gravitational constant value and density value (as Minecraft suggests a similar solar system to ours in which its earth belongs in) :

Okay we got what we wanted, but let me suggest you a quick understanding to check the coherence of our results.

Take a close a look at that formula identified from Newton's law of attraction, we know G (gravitational constant) tends to zero (its value is so small it´s almost zero: about 6.67*10^-11 m^3 • s^-2 • kg^-1) and the radius being a large number.In order to get a final value greater than 1, earth's mass have got to be really large & so the density.

In the case of Minecraft, as the radius is larger and we know the overall division value is approximately 3.23 greater than the real-life one which makes it obvious Minecraft earth's mass, density & volume are greater for sure.

So that's pretty much what we had to do to get an approx of Minecraft planet's related gravitational constant.

Sidenote: It's just a hypothesis, I wanted to make something plausible, cuz assuming our earth's properties to make calculations haven't really satisfied me and isn't correct to apply in a video game (plus people making these assumptions usually don't explain why they use them for a given case).

Also, I'm aware the units aren't possibly correct but all you need is a reference value which wouldn't change the results (1.0 {insert appropriate unit} ) with units making up for the wrong ones.

Edit: For sussy bakas, I solved the whole thing symbolically at first and only (purposefully) numerically displayed intermediate results to picture a significant value but didn't till the final results offline :p

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ckret2 · 2 years ago

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Since Dipper is the one most likely to get backstory out of Bill, did he ever come across Flatland (as in, the book)?

Dipper's the one most likely to ask the questions that get the terrifying answers that Bill doesn't realize reveal a bit too much; but I think Bill would more freely share dry unemotional biographical details . He's already told Ford he comes from the second dimension, and he mentions Edwin Abbot Abbot when asked in the out-of-canon AMA about his origin—so I think it doesn't take much prying for him to describe where he comes from. (And in an earlier ask about this AU, I cracked a joke about him cheating at cards to coerce the family into watching Flatland for movie night.)

All of which is to say, I'm sure Dipper knows about the book Flatland—Bill's probably name dropped it—but to everyone's surprise except Bill's, it's Mabel who actually sits down and reads it first. By the time Dipper gets a crack at the book, Mabel's made a shapesona.

(This is Mabel's shapesona. Bill calls it the most hideously disfigured man he's ever seen.)

Keeping with the theme I've got going here of "Bill and Mabel are actually scarily alike and the more they notice that the more they get invested in figuring each other out": Bill is Mabel's new terrifying friend who might destroy reality, but is pretty fun when he isn't doing that or hurting her family, and MAYBE he could be talked out of wanting to do that at all! She wants to know where he came from and what made him the way he is. Dipper is driven by academic curiosity and a need to understand his enemy, but Mabel is driven by the 🌈🌟POWER OF FRIENDSHIP🦄💞!!!

So yeah she'll jump on this dry hundred-something-year-old book about MATH just to learn a bit more about Bill.

The first the rest of the household learns she's picked up the book is when she stomps into the kitchen in her pajamas ready to RIOT because the Flatlanders banned colors. "That's like banning fashion! Or HAPPINESS!"

(Bill reassures her that the book's mostly satire and color was legal in his dimension. "And anyway, they're all dead now!")

Dipper picks up the book the second Mabel finishes it. He probably gets a bit more out of the mathematical thought-experiment side of it, but not by a whole lot; Mabel might not be a nerd but she is smart, and most of the math concepts explained in the book are the kind of thing they're about to hit in school in anyway.

Mabel connects more to the story emotionally. Dipper interacts with the 1D King's disbelief of the 2nd dimension with the understanding that it's a metaphor to help a 3D reader grapple with their own disbelief of the 4th dimension, but Mabel interacts with it on the level of "the point king is stupid not to believe in lines, the line king is stupid not to believe in squares, the squares are stupid not to believe in spheres, and the sphere is stupid not to believe in 4D shapes!!" (Bill, deeply amused: "YEAH, YOU TELL 'EM, SWEATERS!")

Of course, Ford's read Flatland too, decades ago. He and Dipper can talk in depth about the mathematical concepts (which Dipper appreciates, because watching Mabel go on with Bill about the social side of the book is making him feel pretty left out). Ford helps explain some of the geometric concepts that are a bit beyond Dipper's 13-year-old education, and talks about his own personal experiences trying to interact with higher and lower dimensions—which are all a lot messier than the book would suggest.

But at night when the adults (and alien) aren't around, Dipper and Mabel have quiet conversations about the politics in the book—the sexism, the classism, the... shape-ism? the anti-intellectualism, the political imprisonments, the medical mutilations, the infanticide, the tyranny... And they wonder how much of it is just a human's fiction to make an interesting sci-fi book, and how much really does describe the world Bill came from.

Stan hasn't read the book and fell asleep during the movie.

#bill cipher #mabel pines #dipper pines #gravity falls #gravity falls fanart #bill goldilocks cipher #shape gender

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i-am-thedragon · 2 years ago

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What did you want to say about your hypothetical Flatland adaptation?

Glad you asked!

Long, long explanation below the cut.

So my Flatland story is sort of a sequel to the original story, and one that actually focuses more on Spaceland. It takes place at the beginning of the year 2050, fifty years after A Square's encounter with a three-dimensional sphere. A Square, at this point, has long since died miserable and alone in prison.

The third dimension, or 'Spaceland' is essentially just the universe as we know it. Earth is populated by geometric humans who see Flatland as an unexplainable curiosity and seek to study it. Of course, Spacelanders can only make their presence known once every millennium, so study has to consist mostly of observation.

There are two major science and technology enterprises leading the study of Flatland: GaussCo, and Sonnwell Scientific. GaussCo's Flatland division was founded and originally headed by a famous sphere named Albert, who was tasked with the duty of contacting Flatland at the beginning of 2000. His role as the head of GaussCo's Flatland division was passed down to his son Juno, and then to Juno's daughter Rutabaga, who is the current head in 2050.

Sonnwell Scientific came into the game a fair bit later, but is rapidly catching up in their research and advancements. However, there is a terrible reason for their success. Their scientists are kidnapping Flatlanders, imprisoning them in their labs, and performing all manner of cruel and unethical experiments on them! The public was outraged when they learned of this, but to Rutabaga's dismay, the outrage quickly died out in favour of morbid curiosity of the experiments' results.

Of course, what Sonnwell Scientific was doing should be a huge violation of the rule/tradition that Flatland can only be interacted with at the beginning of each millennium, but they had found a loophole. By capturing Flarlanders in dark vessels and not allowing them to see or know what was happening to them, they technically were not making themselves or the third dimension known to Flatland. From Flatland's perspective, a series of mysterious missing person's cases were occurring across the world.

The story begins on the eve of 2050. Rutabaga laments her legacy, the flaws of her father and grandfather, and the current state of affairs. In order to clear her head, she visits Flatland to observe it. Unfortunately, she arrives to find Sonnwell's scientists there collecting 'subjects'. She witnesses one of them take a mother and her children from a house.

Meanwhile, Edwin Square is out in town. To his surprise, there is a rush of people panicking, shouting claims of a notable politician disappearing right before everyone's eyes. Soldiers are quickly neutralising them. E Square rushes home to safety, only to find that his wife and children are missing. Realising that they've likely become the latest victims of the unexplained disappearances, he falls into a hysterical panic. Suddenly, a disembodied voice tells him, "You deserve to know the truth".

Rutabaga is absolutely violating the "once every millennium" rule/tradition by speaking directly to a Flatlander, but she does not care anymore. She attempts to explain to Edwin what has happened to his family, but he does not understand. So, like her grandfather, she pulls him into the third dimension, with which E Square is in awe. The lesson continues, and E Square refuses to return home without his family, but Rutabaga has no way of getting them back for him. In the meantime, she puts Edwin in a simulated two-dimensional space in her research facility, where he will live for the duration of the story.

From then on Rutabaga and her best friend/assistant Barnaby will try to find some way to rescue Edwin's wife and children, along with the rest of the captured Flatlanders, from Sonnwell's labs, while also dealing with their own personal problems and the flaws of society.

Of course, the whole thing is hypothetical. I don't think I have the patience or commitment to flesh out the entire thing into any medium.

#thedragon's geometric pals #flatland #spaceland

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rharyx · 10 months ago

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I've been going through all the mainline Final Fantasy games (and such side games as well) since I've never really played that many growing up and felt like getting into them all. Doubt I'll ever play all of the main 16, since not all of them look interesting to me, but we'll see.

Final Fantasy X This was the first one I played, back in 2014. I wanted to have at least one FF under my belt before XV came out, and X looked the most appealing. Played it and loved it. Definitely a 10/10 game for me, and I think the Sphere Grid is one of the most fun leveling systems I've seen. The story is so good, the cutscenes go hard, and the characters are really well-designed and memorable. I think one of the most important aspects of FF is a good main party, and X is one of the best in that regard.

Final Fantasy X-2 I've tried twice to get into this game, and I couldn't do it either time. I love Yuna's development from X to here, and I love the aesthetic and vibe of the game, but I couldn't get into the gameplay or how the story was paced and broken up. Maybe I'll get back to it for a 3rd time someday...

Final Fantasy Type-0 I only got this because it came with the demo for FFXV, and I dropped it pretty quickly back in 2015. I only came back to it a couple months ago (2023) and played it to completion. It was definitely a chore. The gameplay itself can be fun/addicting, but everything else is just outright boring or done in a way that makes things as joyless as possible. Especially the story, which is handled super choppily. The cast was mostly one-note (which I get was intentional, in-universe, but still...) and I only really played as Ace and Cater. Machina is probably my least favorite FF protag I can think of while writing this up. I only did one playthrough, and I know there's more in NG+, but I just have no energy to go through it again. Overall, it's like a 4/10.

Final Fantasy XV To say I was disappointed is an understatement. Not really a hot take, shitting on XV, but I mean...it is what it is. I knew it was never going to be the game I was looking forward to back in 2006, but the final product was just so far removed from anything resembling a coherent thought. The combat isn't fun, the skill tree is so boring, and the "open world" is mostly lifeless. Noct and the boys had potential, but they're barely developed or given much to do -- and don't even get me started on Luna and the rest of the side cast. There's a really good story and setting somewhere underneath all the issues, and it's impressive they released anything at all, all things considered. But man, is it just disappointing. 6/10.

Final Fantasy VIII As someone who really loved Leon in Kingdom Hearts, I was always interested in seeing the origin of the character, but just like Type-0, I could just not get into this game. I tried it in 2019, after Kingdom Hearts 3 came out and let me down -- I wanted to pivot to something in the same ball park of Square Enix, so I tried seeing if other Final Fantasy games were up my alley instead. But unfortunately, I didn't click with the gameplay, and the writing felt all over the place. From the bits of it I did play, I did enjoy Squall, Rinoa, and Selphie at least. I plan on getting back to it later, but for now I just don't see myself completing it. And after dropping X-2 and Type-0, and being let down by XV, this was the moment that made me go, "Oh, maybe Final Fantasy just isn't for me."

Final Fantasy XIV The game that made me love Final Fantasy. I've never played an MMO in my life before, but I remembered watching Ray Chase (Noct's VA) stream FFXIV once or twice before and thought it looked cool. In 2020, I got Covid and was pretty much bedridden for the next nine months, so I figured then was as good a time as any to invest myself in an MMO world to whittle away the days. "If I can't live in this world, I way as well live in another," my thought process basically was. And it ended up being a great decision. I love so much about this game, from the stories, to the characters, to the world building, to the music, etc. It's just magical through and through, and I can't wait to see where the next story arc takes us. 11/10.

Stranger of Paradise Jack Garland is an amazing protagonist, and this entire game is so fucking cool. Anyone who hates it doesn't like fun. Chaos/10. The DLC is some of the worst DLC I've ever had the displeasure of paying for, though -- never managed to finish it.

Final Fantasy XVI After XV, I was reasonably hesitant to expect much from XVI, and I remember being turned off by the aesthetic and general art direction from the first trailer. But I was really surprised by how good the game ended up being. It does feel like they're sometimes overcompensating for what they got criticized on with XV -- like having so many cutscenes to the point it feels like a movie, as opposed to how chopped up and bare boned the story in XV was, for example. But the cast is likeable, the gameplay is fun, and boy howdy some of those boss fights will live rent free in my head for the rest of time. Also, the voice acting is on another level. I really didn't enjoy the ending, though, but overall it felt like a step in the right direction for future entries. 7/10.

Final Fantasy VI Man, I just love this game. It was after XVI that I decided to play the older games and finish as many as I could, and I started with VI. I didn't expect a game from 1994 to win me over so badly, but everything about it is so fantastic. I love the whole opera vibe where it's almost like the characters are actors performing a stag play, and it has some of my favorite characters in the franchise. I love Cyan, Terra, and Celes so much. I love the scene at the opera house, the phantom train sequence, the dream world, how some dungeons and parts of the game have you split up and utilize multiple parties in tandem. The music is great. I love Kefka. And dude, the ending is my favorite ending to a Final Fantasy game that I've played so far. It basically took everything I hated about XVI's ending, but did the opposite, and it was beautiful. It was exactly the kind of ending that I needed to see after all the previous games I'd been playing. 10/10.

Final Fantasy IX Another masterpiece. If VI was like an Italian opera, XI felt to me more like a post-renaissance Disney movie. The art direction is so good, and the story is really well written. That said, I don't really care for a good chunk of the main party (Quina and Amarant especially), and like I said above, a good party is one of the most important aspects of a FF game. Zidane, Garnet, and Vivi are all amazing, and I really like Freya as well, but beyond that...meh? I wish Beatrix was a party member. I will admit though, I cheesed it by using the handicaps on the Pixel Remaster version (dealing 9999 damage by default), so I can't actually say if I like the gameplay or not, but it seemed like standard FF gameplay, and the Trance system looked cool at least. But I was just super invested in the story, and didn't want to spend a lot of time fighting. The locations and cities in this game were noticeably good, I do want to say. Overall, a solid 8/10 for me.

Final Fantasy VII I almost didn't want to play this one. It's by far the most popular one and I already knew so much about it through two decades of cultural osmosis and Kingdom Hearts, I was almost content just continuing to be the guy who could say, "Yeah, nah, I've never played FF7" just to be a hipster or whatever. But I did play it. And I can see why it's so loved. The story is so good, and unlike with IX, I actually didn't use handicaps (besides the 3x speed for grinding), and I really enjoyed the gameplay. Probably one of the more addicting gameplay loops from a FF game. The main cast is really good, even if it does have its weaker links (Cait, Yuffie, Vincent). My only real complaint is the translation felt really stiff, like even the translators didn't know what they were reading sometimes. It's probably just because it was the 90s. Still, not a big enough nitpick to not give the game a 9/10.

And that's where I am now.

I want to play Crisis Core and the 7 Remake now, since I have context for what's going on due to playing the OG 7.

And then I think IV is the pixel game I'll tackle next.

I really want to play the XIII series, since I don't believe it's as bad as I remember people claiming it was back in high school. But they're not on PS5, so that'll have to wait.

#final fantasy #ff6 #ff7 #ff8 #ff9 #ff10 #ff14 #ffxiv #ff15 #ffxv #ff16 #ffxvi #square enix #agito #type-0 #stranger of paradise #jack garland #ffx-2 #ffx #ffvi #ffvii #ffix

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crumplebottomsinteriorsmagazine · 2 years ago

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Crumplebottom's Interiors Interviews: Etienne Toussaint

Today I had the honor to meet and interview Etienne Toussaint, the reclusive designer and maker of the Etienne Bench and Etienne’s Love…seat. While he maybe an introvert in the very public sphere of design, I wanted to hear about his inspiration behind his work and why he wants design to be affordable. We met at the Windenburg establishment, South Square Coffee, where he spends most of his free time after working in his Windenburg studio. The interview has been lightly edited for clarity and conciseness.

Francis DeWolf: So hello, Etienne. It is finally nice to meet you in person. Can you tell me a little about your background and training?

Etienne Toussaint: Thank you for reaching out. My background is in traditional studio painting. I attended the University of Britechester as a studio art major and focused on sculpture. Brad Connelly was still teaching there and actively saw that I had more of a talent for furniture and practical pieces after seeing my work in my junior year. He helped focus me to get a job with Martell as a junior designer in their plastics lab.

FDW: Why plastics?

ET: I was still very much working with plastics coming out of university, so it wasn’t until I realized that plastics were very much more impactful on the environment than wood, fabric, and metal materials. Of course, the production of all furniture is hard on the environment, and I thought that moving away from plastics was one way to do so. Of course, now that I mostly work with fabric and wood, that plastics-based fabrics are still a thing and still cheaper than using, say, cotton or wool.

FDW: Yes, I know that with the emergence with softer polyesters, it is cheaper to use those materials. As we have seen, you have made it a priority to make your work affordable to more people, but you still work with cotton velvets and other natural fibers, tell me, why cost is so important to you?

ET: I was thinking of my own childhood and how it was hard for my parents to afford to buy new and buy a quality piece of furniture. They often replaced pieces from thrift shops when the furniture would break. I went to Britechester on a full-ride scholarship and felt that I wanted to give my parents the chance to own new furniture, that wasn’t just the standard old-fashion stuff.

FDW: So is that where the emphasis on new and experimental forms you are known for came from?

ET: Yes, I feel like everyone should have a quality piece of furniture that they can use at a good price. Obviously, not everyone has the experimental taste that I have. But honestly, I do want folks that like high-end design to get their hands on it.

FDW: I want to shift gears a little and ask why the seemingly reclusive life and unwillingness to really be in, maybe not the public eye, but at least feel more private and pseudonymous when you have these goals of affordability?

ET: I want the work to stand on its own rather, than standing the design and “glory” when it upstages the furniture. Too many designers seem to be more about attaching their name to pieces then pieces standing the test of visibility in the home.

FDW: So, is that why you live here in Windenburg versus say San Myshuno?

ET: I just prefer the quietness of Windenburg and lower cost to have a big studio to work in. I am still very much working as an artist. Having the Casbah Gallery representing my work, is how I got involved with their affordable design initiatives.

FDW: Are you still doing sculpture?

ET: Yes, I am very much a maker of things, then say a painting or other 2D art. Making things with my hands is just very calming and takes me back when my dad would often build things for my mom. He came from a long line of craftsmen and today I honor that tradition.

FDW: One last question, what’s next?

ET: I have some new metal works coming in the next couple of months or so, so be sure to be on the lookout for those. I decided to move to metal for this project, as I got some shipping container scrap metal that builds out my work. ¥

Poses by @r-jayden

Objects on my own CC blog: @orangeresearcher

#crumplebottom's interviews #orangeresearcher #sims 4 story #OC: Francis DeWolf #OC: Etienne Toussiant

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doom-nerdo-666 · 1 year ago

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(Austin Cline's ArtStation page has some references for DE's level materials)

With the wave of 2016/Eternal based mods, something i think wasn't explored is mapsets or level assets based off the Sentinel and Urdak themes.

Might be because they're recent themes that unlike Hell or UAC, don't have the asset variety that happened in older games with abstract level design.

(Specially since Hell and UAC went through different changes and each game has something for a setting the other doesn't)

And the series' setting was also mostly 2 factions/settings of demons and Earthlings.

Some mods/maps would probably use Eviternity/OTEX as reference too.

With Argent D'nur, you could try to make it based off "older trends" or even look into Heretic, Hexen, Strife and even Na-Pali from Unreal.

An idea i had for Argent was red walls made of the same argent energy that's part of the swords and melee weapons, with the white runes and all.

With Urdak, let's not forget:

Urdak is relatively new and there's not a lot to it visually.

It's also an aesthetic from a very different engine/style, compared to classic Doom settings being these reuseable textures with different themes that you place on walls/floors/ceilings and some props (Sometimes, this is because of more elaborate "landmarks" so the themes may not have a certain versatility that worked with classic Doom's abstraction).

You can at least analyze the existing visuals/elements being:

The obvious sci-fi looking skybox with planets, some destroyed.

White and red colors.

Also, gold and purple.

Red and/or ivory trees.

Pipes, tubes and circular shapes.

Black stone.

Something resembling those square grids/lines from 3D printers.

Something to do with rings, crosses and symbols.

Weird tech.

Maykr faces and statues.

Those humanoid ghost-like figures.

Holographic lights.

Purple water and energy/rays.

Tentacles.

Floating rocks.

Clouds and fog?

Ingmore's Sanctum has like a giant white rock thing with black spheres that look like eyes and somewhere in The Holt, you could see at least one other thing like it (Maybe take more inspiration from this location).

I guess there's still ways to be creative, like creating "equivalents" to existing textures/assets like marble face portraits but instead of Baron/IOS/Archvile, it has Khan Maykr or that evil eye candle but instead it's that holographic cross.

You could also take inspiration from that Maykr section from Nekravol 2, 2016's MP map Empyrean and i guess the World Spear's last section, specially the eye themes.

And for enemies? You could make white and red drones be more seperate and repurpose that Maykr angel from the cutscenes as an enemy.

Same for the cross/archangel, the Maykr Slayer skin and those tentacle things from TAG 1 that act as automatically destructible platforms.

And the electric eyes Samur spawns.

Or do something from the concept art because there's so many unused designs.

I also recall some official concept art for explosive barrels and key pick ups.

But if they ever revisit Urdak, i just want to see new props and assets, specially if they feel like they have different materials, besides just colors.

Also a random idea i just found:

I always thought floating blocks of water would've been creative for abstract level design, then it hit me: A level recreating the split red sea, where in the middle there's a regular path but both sides are giant walls of water that you can swim through and find items.

Anyway, some other posts of mine:

"What if Doom had Heaven before Eternal?"

Stuff about the Sentinels.

#doom #classic doom #id software #idea #wad #night sentinel #sentinel #urdak #doom eternal #doom 2016 #assets

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the-firebird69 · 2 years ago

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There's several companies that do only mining and they mine iron they mine gold and silver Platinum diamonds right now they're not really mining the diamonds no they are they just are different owners and they use the same equipment and they stop mining other stuff so we go over and mine it all out.

*Vale this is a huge mining company they have about 350 octillion people in the area and it's gigantic and their equipment is huge that the world's leader in mining large diamonds and the world's leader in mining gold and iron and everything under the Sun including the shadow dome and they were in there Non-Stop and yes it's owned by Tommy f, now we're going after it and we have been and they're getting smaller and smaller and smaller and there is a antidote like a key as to why they're doing it it's because the giant spheres are underneath the roots and the roots are mostly hollow and that's what they preparing to try and mine to or dig to a tunnel to to harm and we took over tunneling companies not fully but we're going to so wondering how they want to get down there and they're trying to get us fear off or to reflect one to fire down to go down there very fast and to threaten blowing up the Earth to do it and that's what they practice and other places they say. Then I could never a son and bring him down there and here in Florida the tunnels go down there and almost down to the bottom of it and people are figuring it out that's the plan. And it is to fire up and it other objects to threaten the entire universe in the solar system. They would need to reflector and they said no they can fire through the planet and go to other spheres and fire through the planet to hit things and it would make a tunnel and a 10 mile wide tunnel is not going to be that big compared to what's down there and they are saying it quite often that's what they plan to do and they can get other stuff by doing it to a few cities and build reflectors. Of course we oppose this idea and we're expressing it daily but they don't need all these people they say and they are a little nutty but they've been doing it for a long time and they think that's the way to do it is to sacrifice and to trying and have us do regular daily stuff but now we're taking stuff that they would need for their project so it doesn't make sense to a lot of people and a son says it they think that we have ships but they don't know it and they think they have ships go back to square zero talking about spheres and things like that. But we're taking over this company and we're starting to know we've been infiltrating for years and we're going to take it Lock stock and barrel shortly too and Tommy f is getting pummeled and after this episode his fleets will be gone for the most part and Max are going to start taking over and we are going to be right there.

*fetesque there's another mining company as ginormous it's huge and it is one of the biggest on Earth and it is bigger than the other one know it's number three and we wanted them in order but you know they're not allowing it it's just giant okay and it is pretty much spelled right but it's a little off but it's got tons of equipment and the first one had almost more equipment than the largest equipment hold on Earth and the second largest construction company and is it it's gigantic okay they have a lot of stuff and their equipment by the tonnage is number two the above. And it's a whole thing and we're going to talk to them about their attitude so I went and grabbed this idiot company and fired the guy who came up with it nugem or something. But we are taking over these companies they're huge and they're competing over diamond mining and they are suffering wondering what they're going to do to get to the stupid diamonds if they get rid of their sphere equipment and we tell him we don't know but we can't have you making disasters without our approval and we can't have you doing it the way you're doing it so they're probably going to keep a lot of the equipment they say what we say is they're going to try to and it's going to be a battle for each piece and that's what's going on already and it's not going that fast so we're going to announce it here

There's several more companies that we're going to put this out there so it publishes

Thor Freya

We approve this and we're working with them diligently

Hera Zues

We also approved this message to be sent out right now

Olympus

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jerkbitchidjitassbutt · 4 years ago

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It Was You (Part One)

A/N: Jensen and Y/n are childhood best friends. When his agent informs him that his image could use some improvement for a role, will she help him? Or will her feelings get in the way?

A holiday (Christmas centric) Jensen x Female!Reader Best Friends to Lovers series for @spnchristmasbingo. Un-beta’d, so all mistakes are mine. Header created by me with images from Google. Chapter word count: 3371

Series Warnings: break up; angst-ish at times (if you squint), but mostly all the fluff.

I consider this an AU, as Jensen is single in this fic. This is completely a work of fiction, and I wouldn’t want his reality to be any different, this is purely for entertainment.

The slight chill of a Vancouver December morning roused you from a peaceful sleep, making you snuggle further into the down blanket and comfort of your plush bedding. It was two weeks until Christmas and the weather was supposed to be a balmy high of 32 degrees today, so you had planned to stay in, do some shopping online, and stay by your cozy fireplace with every holiday movie you could find. Willing yourself to get five more minutes of shut eye seemed like a helpless feat as the wintry cold seeped into your apartment. You opened your eyes to the gentle prisms of light floating in through the adjacent window, the sunrise indicating it was time to get up for the day.

Sitting up to perch on the side of your bed and grabbing your wide-rimmed glasses from the nightstand, you slid your chilled toes into the warm slippers waiting and shrugged on your fuzziest sweater. It may be time for that fire sooner than you thought.

Padding into your kitchen to get a much-needed caffeine fix after last night’s dinner and drinks with the rest of the cast and crew, you took your favorite mug from the cabinet and loaded the coffee maker, making an extra cup or two for you and any visitors you might have a bit later.

Jensen’s apartment was down the hall, and if you knew him, he’d still be sleeping, but he’d probably wander over at some point this morning. Cradling the mug in your hands warmed them slightly and sent a shiver down your spine. Even your warmest pajamas and the heat from the thermostat did little against the Canadian winds. Laughing slightly to yourself, you’d thought you’d be used to it after six years of winters here.

You wandered towards the windows of your living room to pull back the long curtains. It was a favorite spot to have your coffee and gaze at the sights of Vancouver. Settling on the window seat, you felt a warmth spread through you as you noticed it had snowed in the night, and from the looks of it, it was a depth of fresh, soft powder – a type that you rarely saw growing up in Texas. People were bundled up tightly as they walked the streets, but a few people, adults and kids alike, were already out playing in the thick blanket of snow.

As your coffee began to warm you through, you couldn’t help the giddy feeling of joy that rose at the sight – it made the holiday season and the spirit of it even more intense than just viewing the lights of downtown and the large decorations everywhere. For some reason, snow just sealed it all up in a nice little bow.

Sure enough, about halfway into your second cup of coffee, you heard a key in your door and Jensen shuffled in, still wearing his pj’s with tousled hair, but he had thrown on a thick sweater too.

“Good morning.” You called, still seated at the large window.

“Mornin’ sweetheart.” He replied with a quick wave as he tossed his keys on the counter and waltzed into your kitchen in search of his mug, his voice still thick and gruff with sleep.

He mixed his cream and sugar and took a long sip, letting out a contented sigh after the steaming liquid entered his body. He was notoriously grumpy without his coffee, but he always met you with a sweet greeting when he came over. Walking around your kitchen island and into your open living room, he slumped into the recliner across from you and pulled the leaver to release the footing, allowing him to lean back with his feet up. He adjusted himself to get comfortable, careful to not spill the mug in his hand.

“What time did you get in last night?” you asked, taking another sip from your own cup.

He covered his eyes with his free hand, still obviously tired. “About 2:30. You know how Jared gets when we break for hiatus, he never wants the party to end. He was still talking to me as I was shutting my door.”

You couldn’t help but laugh. Jared was the most social person you’d ever met and knowing that he wouldn’t be back to Canada and on set for a month, he would always soak up every little bit of time he had with the cast and crew. Even though Jensen was griping about it now, you knew he also didn’t mind. He’d probably be missing everyone, especially Jared, about four days into the break. You didn’t get home until about 1 a.m., and that was only because you were beginning to doze off in your cocktail.

“Tell Cliff thanks again for driving me home last night. I just couldn’t cut it.”

“Yeah, I know… Lightweight.” Jensen teased.

“Hey, you didn’t have a 5 a.m. set call yesterday like some of us.”

Jensen huffed a small laugh from his seat, still resting his hand across his closed eyes. His sweatpants hung low on his hips and his green Henley stretched across his biceps as he rested his coffee on his thigh. A slight 5 o’clock shadow and the bedhead he was sporting all combined into a handsome image. He may be your best friend, but you could still appreciate the looks the man was blessed with.

Seemingly close to falling back asleep, you called to him in a hushed voice, “Jay. If you want to go back to sleep just put your coffee mug on the table, okay?”

“Hmmmph. No, I’m up.” He fibbed, as evident from the way he blinked widely once he opened his eyes again. Forcing himself to stand, otherwise he would really fall back asleep instead of just resting his eyes, he walked towards you with his cup, dragging his feet slightly as his legs sluggishly pulled him across the room. His head was down and his shoulders were wilted, but he was trying to get his body moving.

When he reached you, you felt his chest bump your shoulder before he rested his cheek on the crown of your head, his arm dangling by his side as he slumped. He took a deep breath before rubbing his hand across your back and standing, smiling as you peered up at him with a grin.

Licking his lips, he finally peered out to the streets below and his eyes went wide, “Y/n!” he practically shouted.

You flinched, “What? What’d I do?”

“You didn’t tell me it snowed!”

Giving a huff and a giggle, you couldn’t help but be sarcastic, “I’m sorry, was I supposed to while you were falling asleep in my chair?! Besides… it’s Canada. It’s not like snow is very rare here.”

“Y/n! That’s, like, snow! The kind we used to wish for when we were kids!”

“I know, I thought that too.”

“Well, c’mon!” he said, setting his cup down on the ledge. “We gotta go!”

“What? Go where?”

Jensen was already halfway through your living room and heading for the front door but paused to turn and point a finger in your direction, “You, me, snowman. Now.”

“Jay,” You whined. “It’s cold and its early. You sure you don’t want to just watch Netflix?”

“Y/n!” he said once again, looking as excited as a 12-year-old on a snow day from school. “Snowman! Please?” he begged, waving his arms frantically as he gestured outside.

“Okay, okay. Fine. No need to use your puppy eyes on me. I’ll meet you outside in 15 minutes.”

With that, a huge grin broke out on his face and he took off down the hall, leaving you to go in search of your heaviest ski jacket.

Jensen knocked on your door soon after you shrugged into the puffy coat, dressed in thick snow pants, his own jacket, and a black beanie and gloves with a small bag in his hand. Straitening your scarf before locking your door, he barely gave you a moment to put on your knitted pom beanie before he was pulling you by your hand towards the elevator of your building and pushing you out of the revolving doors into the frigid air. Heading to the side where a large park sat adjacent to your complex, he looked around before tugging you along to a spot with a large open space. He nodded to himself, as if to say he’d found the perfect place for his snowman-building escapade. As your boots crunched beneath you, you each began gathering handfuls of snow to make a large base, then packed and sculpted two more spheres. Though you initially protested, you had to admit that it was fun, and the coldness against your cheeks wasn’t bad after a bit, particularly after seeing how happy Jensen was when his finished product towered over yours. He’d managed to gather the majority of the snow within about a six-foot radius of where his snowman stood before piling it high.

“Hey, hey… look at that. An accurate height difference!” He touted, teasing you.

“Oh, hush you. It’s not my fault that you were given the extended version of the human body.” You glared at him playfully.

He laughed as he bent to rummage in the bag he’d brought, producing two carrots. He wiggled them in his hands before handing one to you. He was just about to place it in a very telling place when you grabbed a handful of snow and threw it in his direction.

“Jensen!” You berated. “That’s not where the carrot goes! There’s kids out here!”

He stood up slowly, turning to you with a serious smirk, “Did you seriously just throw a snowball at me?”

Wiping your hand on your pantleg quickly, you gave him a mischievous grin, “Who, me? I’d never.”

“Oh, its on!” he declared as he bent to scoop up the little bit of remaining snow in his reach, that which he hadn’t used for his snowman.

Ducking behind your own, he threw and missed, sending the snow flying passed you. A quick grab from around you produced another snowball that you chucked from behind your shield, hitting him square in the chest. The fight lasted for a good while, the two of you trying your hardest to target the other as many times as possible and receiving some laughs and glances from passersby as they walked along the sidewalk. Finally, Jensen gave up and took off towards you, chasing you in circles before he tackled you into the plush ice, pinning you beneath him as he tried to bury you both.

“Jay! Oh my God, stop! Its freezing!” you yelled through your laughter.

“Truce?” he asked, his eyebrows raised in a challenge.

He was still on top of you, his nose and cheeks a bit flushed from the wintry air. He still had that devilish smirk on his face, but his green eyes were soft and something beneath them made your heart flutter slightly in your chest. He scanned your face quickly before glancing towards your lips, but you were quick to snatch another fistful of snow to smash onto his head. Scrambling out from underneath him, you ran as he said something about you being a cheater before he jumped to his feet.

After the war ended and a truce was finally declared, you both put the finishing touches on your snowmen after you found sticks for the arms and coerced Jensen to put the carrot in the right spot. He stood back proudly, admiring your handiwork.

“Hey.” He gestured to you, “C’mere.”

A bit warry that he was going to tackle you again, you came to his side as he pulled his phone out of his jacket pocket and turned on the camera. Pulling you into him, he said, “Gotta have evidence of our masterpieces.” He reached around your waist and tugged you in close, framing both of you and your snowmen in the background. The cold air made the tip of your nose and the apples of your cheeks change in color, and there was still some snow in your hair from when Jensen wrestled you, but both of you smiled widely. Feeling the scruff of his short beard against your temple and his arms wrapped around you made you think about the way his eyes danced across your face moments ago, but the thought was quickly dismissed as he stepped away from you slightly after he made sure the picture wasn’t too blurry.

“Oh, crap. Is that what time it is?” he said, alarmed, looking at his phone screen. “I have to meet Stacy in an hour.”

Stacy was his publicist and agent, but he usually didn’t meet with her during the hiatus. “You’re meeting Stacy today? What’s up?” you asked, a bit confused.

“She wants to talk to me about this movie. Some sort of romantic drama she thought I may be good for.”

“Oh,” you replied, “that’s great! You didn’t tell me! Would you have to cut back filming the show?” While you were a bit surprised, you were genuinely happy for him.

“Stacy knows Supernatural comes first, so I hope not.”

“Well, let’s get inside so you can warm up and change. I was going to make my mom’s chili and cornbread for dinner tonight, if you want to join me after your meeting.”

The excitement on his face was palpable as his eyes lit up the moment you said it, “You know how much I love your mom’s chili. We’re just meeting for coffee near her office, so I’ll bring the beer.”

As you were walking back into the building, your phone rang. It was Stephen, your boyfriend of three months.

“Stephen, hey.” You said as you entered the elevator, not missing the slight eyeroll that Jensen gave.

“Hey, honey. How are you? I didn’t want to call too early, just in case you were still sleeping after last night.”

“I’m good, thanks. Actually, just got done building a snowman with Jensen.”

A short silence followed, until Stephen spoke up again. “Oh, that’s nice.” He said, his voice noticeably clipped. “Well, I’m going to take my lunch break soon. Would you like to meet up? I can come to your side of town.”

“Uh, sure. I’ll meet you at that café on 3rd in about a half an hour?”

“Sounds great. See you there.”

Shoving your phone back in your pocket, you ignore Jensen’s stare as the elevator climbed to your floor.

“So…” he pressed. “Stephen?”

“Yeah, Stephen. We’re going to meet up for lunch while you have your meeting.”

“Hmph.” He huffed.

“Jay, we’ve known each other our whole lives and to this day you’ve never liked a single guy I’ve ever dated. What’s wrong with Stephen?”

“I don’t know. He’s just kind of… meh.”

He wasn’t lying, if you were being truthful. Stephen was meh. He was cute and had nice eyes and dimples, but he didn’t make you laugh. He was a bit dull and your sense of humor didn’t mesh with his well. Still, you thought that it might get a bit better once you got to know each other and began to understand one another more. Your relationship was still very casual, but maybe it could go further? You weren’t really sure, honestly.

“What about you and Laura?” you asked, quickly changing the subject.

“I told you… that was nothing.” He quipped as you reached your door. “We went on like three dates.”

“Yeah, the last one being just this past week.”

“Yeah, and it just didn’t go well.”

You let out a small sigh. Discussing your dating lives wasn’t really something the two of you loved to do with each other. Maybe when you were teenagers, yeah. You’d asked each other for advice and gossiped a bit about the people in your high school, but as you grew into adults it just became a subject you both steered away from besides the occasional, hey I’ve got a date conversation. Neither of you had ever really found a person that the other approved of, each finding a reason to be picky every time.

“I’m sorry, Jay. I’m just deflecting.”

“It’s okay, sweetheart. I was pushing.” He said sincerely with a small smile. “Well, you enjoy lunch. My meeting’s at 1:30 across town, so I should be back by 4 at the latest. Pick out a movie for us, okay?”

“Sounds great. I will.” With that, he kissed you quickly on the side of your head and went into his apartment as you ducked into yours. You freshened up quickly and changed, grabbing a different peacoat, hat, and scarf as your others were still wet.

It was a short walk to the café, and they had good sandwiches. You were surprisingly hungry, so you were glad to see Stephen waiting outside for you. He gripped your hand tightly and gave you a quick kiss in greeting before leading you into the restaurant. You were seated and ordered quickly, knowing that he would have to return to work soon.

“So, how has your day been?” You asked as you shrugged off your coat, hanging it on the chair behind you.

“It’s been… good.” He muttered.

“Uh oh,” You said, getting his attention as he looked away from you. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing, really. I was just surprised to hear that you were with Jensen today. You had mentioned you were going to stay home.”

Stephen smiled, almost in an attempt to let you know that he was trying to be lighthearted about it, but you could tell it bothered him.

“Yeah, when he saw it snowed last night, he just really wanted to make a snowman.” You laughed, trying to steer away from the subject. Stephan wasn’t overstepping, but he also wasn’t going to prevent you from spending time with Jensen. The two of you had been inseparable since, well, practically since birth. Your parents had been the best of friends, so you were pretty much raised together.

“Have you, um…” Stephen began, hesitantly. “I know you’ve been friends forever, but have you ever had feelings for him?”

His blue eyes shown with a slight jealousy as you felt a slight pang to your heart.

“No, of course not.” You managed to say with a steady voice and a smile as you picked up your napkin to place in your lap.

It was a lie, one that you’d been telling for years. At one point in your life, you were in love with Jensen. But, the past was in the past. If Jensen didn’t even know, why should Stephen?

Stephen seemed satisfied with your response for the most part, and the two of you had a pleasant lunch. When you stepped away to use the restroom, your phone chimed. Stephen tried not to even look towards your side of the table where your phone sat, but when he saw Jensen’s name, he read the text quickly before the screen dimmed.

Hey, sweetheart. Finishing up here soon and then I’ll be heading home. Do you need me to grab anything from the store?

Stephen knew the two of you were a package deal, and thought he could honestly be alright with it, but between working together and spending practically all of your time together, he was starting to wonder where he fit in in your life. He busied himself by checking his Instagram as he thought about what he should do and found that Jensen had tagged you in a photo from this morning. The caption was simple, just a few words about the filming hiatus and the first snow of the season, but the two of you were so close. Stephen found himself wishing that you could reserve a smile like that for him, but he had yet to see it.

It hurt, but he knew he couldn’t play second fiddle to Jensen. He cared about you, but perhaps it was better to bow out now.

“Hey, sorry about that.” You said brightly as you got back to the table, smiling. It still didn’t reach your eyes, though.

Stephen leaned forward on his elbows with a sigh, “Y/n, I think we should talk.”

To be continued...

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hornsandthings · 4 years ago

Note

Umm hi I don’t know if you still take ACOTAR requests anymore but if you do can I request an azriel x reader where he’s in love with her and is afraid of rejection but he doesn’t know that she loves him too? 👉🏻👈🏻

hi nonnie, i’ll always accept an acotar request, hehe! did this in headcanon form, hope you don’t mind <3 it’s quite long and a little rough around the edges, but i hope you like it! ps. tumblr mucked up the formatting, some dot points don’t want to be indented. i hope it still makes sense x

when your and azriel’s paths crossed, it was the mother at work again. after mor, azriel didn’t think he’d ever have the strength for love again. the aching and the pining had taken their toll, and the appeal of the mating bond had faded. to feel it all again, to risk his heart like that again - he couldn’t. and yet, the mother saw fit that he would.

+++

he first met you in the palace of hoof and leaf, and it didn’t mean anything at the time; a stranger’s kindness, or if he indulged his cynicism, a hawker’s ploy. you were a commoner, a milkmaid who came to sell your products in the markets. he’d been at the neighbouring stall, waiting for the clerk to put together the only tea brew in prythian that could placate his migraines.

“sir, mr. shadowsinger, sir,” you called, “could i offer you a sample of my goat’s milk? maggie-may is very special, her milk can be just as good as a healer’s work, i swear it. try it, try it, sir.”

azriel looked you over, glad that cassian wasn’t here to make that particular moniker stick. one brow raised in dubiety, he nodded and held out his hand - might as well, he thought, tired and getting ever more desperate for his tea. this didn’t show outwardly, of course; azriel’s face was as neutral as ever, his shadows coiling about his talons. your gaze was expectant as he tried the sample, and while it was a little too earthy for his taste, he nodded all the same. perhaps it had encouraged you too much, because then you asked: “could i perhaps persuade you to buy a pint?”

azriel had no interest at all, yet he couldn’t help but notice the detail: your fraying sleeves, the imperfect glass bottles, the beginnings of dark circles under your eyes. and yet you were smiling, you were sweet, being very generous for someone who had to presumably make a living selling fresh products. not for the first time, azriel made a purchase that only someone of the inner circle could afford, and one that didn’t really benefit him. “i’ll take several,” he said, looking at the handful of wooden caddies, mostly still filled with milk bottles. “i’ll take it all.”

the clerk then handed azriel his brew while you stood there, wide-eyed and speechless, working through a range of emotions. at first you thought he was mocking you, but when he turned around again, fiddling with his coin pouch, you realised he was serious. “but, sir— maggie-may’s milk sure is delicious, but only in moderation— i couldn’t expect someone to buy it all—”

“as much as you’d let me, then,” he amended, being mindful not to impose or patronise. you bit your lip, trying to tally up the ultimate price, trying to gauge whether this man could even afford it. two gold, you said, trying your luck. azriel merely fingered his coins, placing the expected two and an additional three on the counter. he must’ve noticed your shock; you had frozen, after all, perhaps even stopped breathing. “since maggie-may is so special,” he drawled, earning a disbelieving laugh from you.

that night, cerridwen, nuala, and elain were very confused at the sight of bottles and bottles of milk laying in wait on the kitchen counter in the house of wind. the note - clearly by azriel’s neat hand - read: use within five days.

+++

from then on, you always engaged azriel when you spotted him in the market. you could never forget his generous first purchase, and so while he waited for the tea master to finalise his special brew, you would entertain him with an endless supply of free samples of new products. over the years, azriel saw your business extend from milk to also include cheese and soap. he learned unnecessary things about your cattle, such as the supposed social dynamics and - mother forbid - adultery that mr. sweet pea the goat seemed prone to. over time, azriel grew comfortable enough to share some of his stories and observations, the things he’s seen in other courts. it took a while to realise you had become more than his mere acquaintance, and perhaps it was because you were outside his usual spheres of the inner circle and his spy network. to have someone outside was new, and a little jarring at times. the different experiences, the contrasting perspectives - it was refreshing, and reminded azriel how far he’d come since his miserable youth. when he was with you, the stakes weren’t so high, the conditions not so dire. you were a spot of calm, a reminder that life could be something other than the court’s defense.

+++

one time when he visited - his tea no longer a requisite for him to make an effort to come in - you were noticeably subdued. “mr. sweet pea passed away,” you revealed, eyes wet and voice thick. something about that seized his heart, his shadows growing restless. “he was so special.” you actually said that about each of your cattle, something that azriel had started to find endearing, because he knew you really believed it.

social tact was not a strength of his - azriel knew he tended to be rigid and too formal - so he stumbled over some stilted condolences. it felt awkward and impersonal; azriel couldn’t empathise with the death of a pet, but he wanted to make it hurt less. he still remembered what the late goat had looked like the last time you had brought him in - an old thing, with a long beard and a mix of brown and black fur. strong, impressive horns, one which had a sizeable chip missing.

so that night, he did what he could and sketched that image he had in his mind, of mr. sweet pea looking very wise and ponderous, if a little tired. azriel’s time as spymaster had bestowed him a keen eye and dexterous fingers, allowing him to make the necessary sketches to give his colleagues a clearer picture when necessary - of maps, of creatures, of profiles. they tended to be a little rough and raw, nothing particularly artistic. he thought the same of his current piece, and hesitated over whether it was good enough.

when he finally gave you the sketch the next day, you went very still. he started stumbling over some excuses, but you soon interrupted him with a shaky breath. “this is so thoughtful, azriel. thank you so much.”

+++

azriel grew bolder, and interactions started to occur outside the markets. he’d invite you for tea, indirectly revealing one of his interests. he was a hard man to read, his expressions subtle when not stoic, but you learned. outside of professional matters, he was rarely straightforward, and tended to express his emotions in delicate, layered ways. his care for you was in the way he listened, how his attention never wavered when you were speaking with him. it was how he kept you close when you two navigated busy streets, how he lifted a wing over your head for cover when it rained, how he was content to spend time with you at your stall - sometimes for hours - despite his preference for quietude.

+++

when work took him away, you two would exchange letters. azriel didn’t realise how dangerous a thing it was, because you quickly became a very intimate and constant part of his life. the act of writing tricked him, making it easier to truly express his thoughts - there was no pressure of navigating the immediate reaction, no incentive to keep his words short. you managed to draw so much out of him. he was mindful of each letter of yours he received, keeping them safe and tied together with an old ribbon of yours he’d saved before you could throw it away. he would never admit it, but work abroad tended to be overwhelming: while secure in his network’s quality of intelligence, being in another’s territory always meant having to deal with various variables and vulnerabilities, usually unknown. maybe your letters would have made it all a little more manageable if they didn’t elicit such longing within him. your words made him smile, yes, but they also made his heart ache. he missed you.

+++

after a lengthy assignment in the dawn court, azriel was relieved to be back in velaris. his shadows swirled and whispered around his shoulders, eager to feel your presence too. he knew they fascinated you, how playful they could be sometimes. yet, azriel couldn’t find you at your empty market stall. it was odd - you hadn’t mentioned moving in your recent letters, and he couldn’t find you in any of the other market squares either. soon his shadows grew restless, embodying the concern that was rising.

he employed his spy network to find your farm, hoping it wouldn’t be too intrusive to just show up unannounced. you had mentioned some details in passing before - it was a modest place, with a small house and a meagre hill of grass to feed a handful of goats and sheep. the door was answered by two worried faces, who took one look at azriel and grew even more distressed. “our son— it’s not our son, is it? it can’t be— he just—”

“i’m here to see your daughter,” azriel interrupted, too preoccupied to remember polite niceties. they were confused, guarded, but let him through. the hallways were narrow, his wings often knocking against the wall sconces. he listened as they explained your condition - an illness had befallen you, leaving you bedridden for days. apparently a healer had told them it’ll pass with rest and water, and with that reassurance, azriel forced himself to remember his place. right in front of your closed door, he willed his shadows away from his face, called upon his familiar impassiveness. turning around to face your parents, he amended, “may i see your daughter?”

your room was dark, the curtains drawn. his heart raced as he heard your laboured breaths, and something pulled at him when he saw the small desk in the corner, an unfinished letter atop it. “azriel?” you whispered, voice sounding so small. “is it really you?”

he neared, taking a cautious seat on the side of the bed. you were shivering, but the thin sheet covering you stuck to your skin with sweat. “yes, it’s me, sweetheart,” he said, the endearment slipping out before he could stop it. his throat closed up immediately after, but your vague movements suggested you didn’t even realise, and that you weren’t all there. he could see the feverish blush high on your cheeks, even in the dim light.

“you’re too big for this room,” you mused softly, making azriel smile despite his worry. indeed, he had to bend down to avoid hitting his head, and keep his wings tucked in uncomfortably tight. he took your hand in his, and even in your feverish haze, you could register the roughness of his scarred hands, but they always handled you gently. “why didn’t you tell me in your letters?” he asked, rubbing his thumb over your knuckles. your discomfort was clear in your frown, in your downturned lips. noticing the basin on the bedside table, he took the damp rag on your forehead and dipped it into the cool water, wringing away the excess before gently placing it atop your head again.

“i… didn’t want to trouble you with… with something trivial. a few more days and… and i’ll be back to work.” a weak smile pulled at your mouth, and azriel gathered both of your hands in his again. he shook his head at your line of thinking.

“your health isn’t a trivial matter to me,” he said, leaning close and cupping your cheek. in hindsight, it was so obvious that he had been in love with you far longer than he thought. it was all so rueful, the fact that he had let it happen again. despite it all, he pressed a kiss to your hand, trying to ignore how it trembled. your smile strengthened then, tracing a finger over his brow and down the bridge of his nose. azriel took a deep breath to savour the touch, and soon you two were merely watching each other, azriel wondering what thoughts were running through your slightly added mind. your lids eventually started to droop, however, but still he stayed even when you fell asleep, taking care to change the cool rag when necessary. his shoulders slumped when his head fell into his hands, squeezing his eyes shut tight. with such a revelation, what was he to do from now on?

+++

azriel didn’t think he could be a good lover to you - even if he so very much wanted to be. his job took up so much of time, and it required him to be secretive. azriel wouldn’t ever be able to share everything with you, for the sake of keeping you safe. even if he could, there was just something in his nature that kept him reserved and pushed others away. there were so many things he’d rather leave in the past, and so many more that he wished he hadn’t been part of. there was that, but also his loathsome scarred hands - a reminder of those darker days. no matter how gentle, his touch would always scratch and scrape. once you took notice of how neglected they were, left to dry out and sometimes even scab, you took to work to concoct a nourishing lotion. “you have to be gentle with yourself, azriel,” you had once told him, gently applying the salve to his hands. they were rough but warm against your skin. “you do so much.”

+++

and so, everything he did with you was tinged with a hint of sorrow. he couldn’t bring himself to confront you with the severity of his feelings, but he also couldn’t quite remove you from his life - you had become a friend. you eventually noticed that he started to let his touches linger: when he hugged you, he’d curl arms and wings around you, enveloping you wholly; when you were near, his shadows would stretch toward you, as if revealing a hidden desire. when you reached for his hand, he would always grip it firmly, and when you came very close for some unimportant reason, his gaze would always linger on your face, flicking so often to your lips.

+++

one night you had invited him over to the farm, wanting to introduce him to the latest addition of your household: a baby goat, just over a week old. she was as white as snow, and kept nibbling at your hair as you held her in your arms. “what should we name her, azriel?” you had asked, too preoccupied to notice how tense he was, hands in his pockets. “i was thinking of marjorie, or maybe miss marjorie… hey, what’s wrong?” his face was unusually expressive, his shadows roiling about his talons as if in distress. putting down the goat, her legs still clumsy and gangly, you stepped closer to azriel, reaching out. he shook his head, trying to school his face but you knew him by now. your shoulders slumped, recalling his strange behaviour over the years - he was present in most ways, but avoidant in others. “i wish you’d talk to me, azriel,” you murmured, taking his hand and hoping he wouldn’t mind the dirt. “you mean so much to me.”

it all bubbled up then in that small barn, the light dim and the smell of earth pungent. you let out a rueful laugh, rubbing your eye. “i’m in love with you,” you said, very quietly at first. immediately you felt so naive to be doing this. the fact was that azriel came from a different life, one that saw him as a leader of the court, who worked with powerful and beautiful people, fae who were richer and stronger and vastly more interesting. azriel’s mere presence in your life was extraordinary enough. and yet, you had found yourself falling in love despite the impracticability of it, found yourself admiring his kindness, his quiet generosity, his strength and resilience and dry humour. you shifted, looking right into his eyes. even if your love was unrequited, he deserved to be told - if only to let him know that he indeed was loved by one more. “i’m in love with you. i don’t— i don’t expect you to say it in return, but i can no longer keep it to myself. i love you.”

that threw azriel. he had fantasised of course, indulged in the scenario. but now, as you waited for his response, his thoughts stuttered. what? he wanted to say, unable to believe what he actually so very desperately wanted to believe. you grew nervous as the silence lengthened, azriel’s face as stoic as ever. you shook your head, covering your mouth in regret. “i’m sorry, i— i shouldn’t have said anything—”

he gripped your shoulders tight, gaze intense and voice low. “i also love you.”

“why do you say it like it’s a bad thing?” the solemnity which had tinged your relationship for some time was subtle, but you had felt it, and it had bothered you.

azriel’s hands came up to cup your face, and he quickly shook his head. “it’s not,” he said, he urged. “it’s not, it’s not.” and then his lips met yours, chapped and rough, kissing you slowly, thoroughly, firmly. the conviction made your heart melt, and you gripped his wrists, feeling his racing pulse and caressing it, kissing him back, standing on your toes, letting him steal your breath. “i love you so much, sweetheart,” he sighed against your lips, nose brushing against yours. you went to reply but then azriel had claimed your mouth again, one hand snaking around to your back and the other to the nape of your neck. the light shifted behind your closed eyes as his wings came down to envelope the both of you, and your fingers reached to tangle in his hair, to trace the shells of his ears.

when you two parted again, his grin was lopsided and a little wry. “i just couldn’t believe it,” he murmured, his eyes shining with emotion. why not? you wanted to ask, wondering what it was that had held him back for so long, but decided to delay it for another day. all you could do was hug him tighter, just glad for the sight of his smile and the feeling of his relief. glad for his happiness.

#acotar x reader #azriel x reader #acotar imagine #acotar fanfic #ugh this isn't my best but otherwise i'll never post D:#also a big f.u. to tumblr formatting

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parcy-anda · 3 years ago

Photo

I adore the idea of Ruv & Sarv together both platonically and romantically, and that goes double for Whitty & Carol, but I’m also a piece-of-trash multi-shipper with a strong lean towards fluff.

Heads up: no ideas are my own — the inspiration came from this. >v<; I just wanted to shake off some dust and enjoy what I thought was a sweet concept.

My silly rambles are below the cut if you’re interested, but I’m super awkward and will go hide now.

=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=

I was a bit conflicted about posting art of these two, as from what I’ve read, drama following the mods ruined these guys+ for their respective creators but I keep up on some tags out of curiosity, and seeing the post linked above made me want to try something that condensed most of their ideas. I'm a sucker for anything soft and wholesome.

While I did visual research for the characters, dinghies and an intentional + aesthetically-appropriate design for Ruv based on a few species of cold-water [comb] jellies, I had no idea/was-too-stubborn-to-further-research how to draw [jellyfish] sirens or how to handle the lighting effects for a pic like this — and it shows.

Finally: GEEBUS, I don’t know if this is even worth sharing, but as prep, I did sketch a rough concept of siren!Ruv based on visual research. I have no idea if I’ll try to polish this concept, as while Jellies are often inherently frilly, it seems painfully out-of-place for him. @v@

Update: I wrote a silly ficlet to follow up this pic. I’ll hide it here, rather than put it on display in a fresh post. =v=; Apologies for address-repetition, rambling, and the obliviousness trope but if anyone actually likes it, sweetness.

=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=

Whitty kept his eyes on the stars, of which there was no shortage out here. Beyond the light, passing swells, he'd heard the gentle splashing against the boat, and felt something slippery and mitten-like wrap around his shoe. His foot twitched, but he didn't pull away. He knew who it was; after, all, they'd agreed to meet here... in this general area. The open ocean provided few landmarks, but they'd settled on a few miles northeast of the dock Whitty always started from.

It was still really, really strange. He was getting better about trusting the siren, but jellyfish are jellyfish, and he was in no hurry to be stung, accidentally or otherwise. Without moving, he chanced a glimpse to the other end of the boat — Ruv was looking down at something. The sentient bomb heard a gravelly shift — oh... more "treasures".

Lately, the gelatinous merman had been in the odd habit of bringing stones and coral fragments with him, and this time, he'd brought a bucketful. Whitty stifled a hissing chuckle at what he could now tell was bright green plastic. Ruv must have taken some child's beach toy from somewhere. The only thing he didn't really get was why.

Ruv wasn't much of a talker, and was stone-faced as they came. All the bomb-man could tell was that the siren seemed to bring these things for him... and the slight glow of his bioluminescence flared every time Whitty looked at him or said so much as a word. And today, he was ALIGHT. Whitty tensed as he felt Ruv squeeze his shoe tighter... was this in his head, or did the siren look nervous?

Carefully, Ruv lifted the bucket out of the water completely, over the edge and placed it squarely on the floor of the dinghy by Whitty's outstretched leg... and stared. At Whitty. In the glowing, ember-y eyes. Inky drops of "sweat" seeped through the sphere of his head and dripped back down to the fuse... an anxious laugh tumbled between his teeth set in a forced smile.

"Thanks, man." He finally managed to say, glancing briefly at the bucket before looking back at Ruv, who hadn't moved, save for the lightest lapping against the underside of the boat, to keep his balance and place. Whitty usually didn't mind the stargazing, but then, it had never been this quiet or... intensely awkward. You're making it weird, man. Whitty thought to himself worriedly, but gave it a few seconds.

Things did not get better. Silent as before, Ruv's behaviour drastically shifted once more. The glow faded, he sank out of Whitty's view, and the grip on his shoe loosened before disappearing completely. Just slightly alarmed, Whitty planted most of his weight in the middle of the small boat, before stretching his neck to look out over the edge — the siren was still there, face half-submerged and, by the angle of the lone, now-barely luminous eye, not quite facing the boat. With just a crescent moon to light the seascape, Whitty was relieved to see anything... if the glow had wholly vanished, he would have been impossible to distinguish from the water.

"... what did I do, now?" Whitty sighed, trying not to sound too annoyed. He was certainly intrigued by the merman, he wouldn't keep coming back to visit otherwise. They could probably be really good friends if Ruv would actually communicate. But he didn't. He always kept Whitty wondering, and the bomb hated that. He hated not knowing what to expect.

When Ruv stayed silent and with his back to the dinghy, Whitty huffed quietly and turned his attention to the bucket. It was quite the assortment, this time. Some where rough, some smooth, some glossy, some blue, some... very, very round. He picked up that oddball, and his eyes widened as he realized what it was. It was a pearl, a black one, and a pretty good size.

"Okay, w-why? Why do you keep bringing me stuff like this?" He sputtered, holding up the pearl and bucket. He'd tried asking questions before, but seldom got normal or satisfactory answers. He hoped this time would be different.

He got a reaction, at least: he caught the eye angling slightly back toward him, and a flicker of light returning. He could have sworn he saw the mouth twitch, though mostly into a frown. When Ruv's hands weighed delicately on the top of the stern, Whitty sat back in an effort to keep the boat level. Taking in what body language he could, Whitty saw now, just how tired Ruv appeared to be, as if it was all he could do to keep his one eye open. With a sense of urgency, Whitty dragged himself back to reality, gesturing emphatically as he asked again: "Why? What's this for? Use your words, man."

Immediately, Ruv's eye narrowed and his slight frown deepened, prompting a small flinch from the bomb. Whitty was fully expecting to be stung, and braced himself for it, eyes closed. He nearly jumped out of his skin when instead, he heard a THUD against the dinghy's edge. Then again, and again. Opening his eyes, he saw Ruv repeatedly, quite deliberately, throwing his forehead into the side of the boat. Apparently, he was frustrated, too.

Whitty was about to tell the siren to cut it out when it suddenly stopped. Ruv's head was now set still against the stern, shoulders rising, then falling in a quiet sigh, before he rested his chin on the rim between his hands. The face Whitty took for 'tired' before now simply looked defeated. The bomb-headed young man refrained from saying anything, realizing words were only flustering the merman, but he knew Ruv could talk. They'd talked before... mostly Ruv just said he wasn't going to sting Whitty, but still, Ruv had spoken. There was no point in acting like he couldn't.

So lost was he in his thoughts, he'd hardly noticed himself nearing the boat's edge. For a moment, he thought he'd leaned in on his own, as if to listen closely for an answer, but... no. The movement had been completely subconscious. Oh, f- this isn't some legit-siren shit Ruv's pulling, right? Probably not, hopefully not. I mean, I'm definitely in control of my thoughts. He was snapped out of those thoughts by another sigh from Ruv, even though he had yet to say a word.

Silently, Ruv took the pearl and held it up between his and Whitty's faces — he should get that, right? Looking around it, Whitty's face proved puzzled still. Agitated, Ruv snatched a piece of volcanic glass he'd found from the bucket, placing it over Whitty's hand and wrapping his own over both, before expectantly looking back up to his land-dwelling friend's face. That nervous smile was back, and Whitty had to laugh off the awkwardness while he searched for the words.

"Aha...ha... this stuff looks... kind of like me?" He asked more than said, glancing a few times between the contents of the bucket and Ruv — there were a number of articles reminiscent of his clothing and skin's colors, not to mention textures. Whitty's heart spasmed violently at the way Ruv's face quite literally lit up. Reluctantly, he spun his free hand in a wheeling motion, continuing, "... which means...?" The glow flickered, but remained and Whitty thought he saw Ruv's eye twitch. The bomb grimaced before trying to intuit the meaning behind this, "Yes, please! Spell it out!" It was weird as hell, but he needed to know what it meant, and it was high time Ruv just gave him a straight answer.

Mista-BIG MISTAKE. — was the only coherent thought Whitty managed, as for a moment, all his senses could register was a splash and icy water enveloping him face-first. He'd been hauled from the boat and into the dark, frigid ocean. On instinct, he struggled, panicked against the feeling of cold seeping into him, and he gasped the second he felt air on his face. He took a second to process what was happening now:

He was breathing, his head was back above water... he was... not being strangled, even though it felt terrifyingly similar. Ruv was thoroughly wrapped around him, his face pressed into the bomb's neck and... nuzzling? It made Whitty squirm at first, it really was a bit of a disturbing sensation, but then suddenly, he stiffened and warmed all over as a blush spilled across his face and the realization dawned on him. If the siren hadn't been keeping him afloat, he'd have sunk for lack of movement. He was frozen in an entirely different sense now.

#fnf ruv #fnf whitty #fnf au #just fluff #whitruv

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authorlmfletcher · 4 years ago

Text

Merry Christmas @csulliven ! I’m your secret santa for @mlsecretsanta ^_^ Hope you enjoy it!

Also on Ao3 here: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28383465

----------------------------------------------------------

Snow in Paris. How romantic.

Adrien sighed as he watched the large snowflakes falling softly from his bedroom windows, secretly wishing that he was sitting on a rooftop somewhere with Ladybug. An image of her rosy red cheeks in the cold air, dark hair covered in white as she laughed made him smile.

“Ready, Plagg? Time for patrol.”

His kwami grunted noncommittally, tossing back an extra piece of camembert before Adrien called him into the ring. Chat Noir pushed himself out the window almost before he was fully changed, black suit melting over his body in a familiar and comforting feeling.

From the rooftops, he watched children dancing in the streets with arms outstretched to greet the snow. Strings of lights draped over trees and over buildings, creating a warm and magical glow to the night sky. A few windows showcased trees twinkling with lights. It was perfectly wonderful, and all Chat could feel was empty.

Christmas always hit him the hardest, the memories of his mother’s smile, joy, and laughter at this time of year flooding his thoughts everywhere he looked. He missed her so much. While usually he could keep the swirl of emotions under control, the holidays pulled them so close to the surface that nothing he tried could tamper them down. At least this year he wouldn’t let himself fall into the same angst-fuelled stomp around Paris from the year before.

Reaching their meeting point, Chat Noir flopped onto the rooftop, sitting with his legs dangling over the edge. He couldn’t help the curl in his back nor the soft frown on his face as he watched a young family walking down the street, each parent holding one hand of their child in the middle, swinging him high into the air as he screeched with joy.

He missed those days.

------------------------

Snow in Paris. Crap.

Marinette’s feet slipped out from underneath her as she stepped out onto her balcony, a soft squeak escaping her lips as she frantically waved her arms to regain her balance. Tikki chuckled softly behind her. Marinette shot her kwami an unamused look.

“You’ll be fine. Go - Chat will be waiting.”

A quick set of words transformed Marinette in a brilliant flash of pink, a spotted suit appearing on her skin before she launched herself off her railing to yo-yo over the rooftops to their designated meeting spot.

Trying not to slip as she landed on their rooftop, she noted the unusually despondent position of Chat’s body.

“Hey Chat,” she called out. He turned and gave her a muted smile.

“Hey.”

That wasn’t her usual exuberant kitty. Deciding that patrol could wait, she plopped herself down beside her partner and gave him a good long stare, trying to telepathically discover what exactly was making him so sad. No answers came to her.

“What’s wrong, kitty?”

His hesitation to answer gave away a lot. Civilian issues, she realized. Something that mattered enough that he actually let it bother him when he was in his super suit. That worried her a little.

“I - “ he shifted his eyes to peek at her, “I’m just finding the Christmas season hard. It’s all bright, and cheerful, and beautiful, but - it’s not like that for me.”

Ladybug blinked, trying to process. Christmas always made her happy. The colours of the lights. The smells of fresh baked cookies. The snuggles on the couch watching a movie together with her parents. The excitement of homemade gifts. This was her favourite season! But, Chat - obviously it wasn’t the same.

“Oh,” was all she could think of to say, her brain already slipping into planning mode. Something had to be done. No one should be unhappy at the happiest season of the year! She looked around the view of Paris, pieces of an idea popping into place in a typically Marinette/Ladybug fashion.

“I have an idea.”

Chat looked at her startled when she got to her feet.

“An idea for what?”

“An idea for you. Come on. Follow me.” And then she was swinging across Paris. It took longer than she expected to arrive at her destination - a large building built like a square. Landing on the rooftop, she turned to find Chat close behind, a confused look on his face.

“What are we doing here?” he asked.

“Look,” she replied. A simple gesture brought his attention to the ice track laid out on the top of the building in a long path. “Transform to ice.”

He gave her a startled look, shocked as she gulped down one of her power up macrons. Fumbling through his pockets, he followed her lead.

“What are we doing?” he asked again. She just laughed, grabbing his hand and dragging him onto the ice.

“Come on. I think you just need some fun.”

She had to admit that the sheer look of surprise on his face was worth it. It took a few laps around the icy path before his usual boyish grin took over and he started to show off with spins and acrobatic displays. It felt like hours later when they both collapsed onto a bench with tired legs and hearts full of laughter. Ladybug felt thankful that her little plan had worked. She never wanted to see that hollow look on his face ever again.

“Thank you, Ladybug,” he said softly, dropping his ice transformation with a sigh. “I needed that. Christmas season is just … hard for me. It makes me think of someone I miss a lot.” Throwing his head back, he stared at the sky a moment before grabbing her hand for his trademarked knuckle kiss.

“Anyway, thank you for the special evening. I should probably get going - I have a crazy day tomorrow and need to get some sleep.”

Still on the bench, she watched him vault away. Detransforming, she sat there for longer with Tikki as the little kwami chomped away at a cookie.

“Oh, Tikki. I wish I knew more about Chat Noir. Who could he miss so much that he gets that sad over the holidays?”

Tikki simply chewed, not answering. Marinette sighed. “I know. I just wish I could do something to make Christmas special and happy for him instead.”

It took all of 5 minutes for a massive, crazy, totally insane idea to come together. Changing back to Ladybug, she swung home, brain whirling with plans, knowing there was little chance of sleep for her creative self yet again.

-----

Hands fussed with his hair. Others pulled at his clothes. Voices barked out orders as people raced around, moving props and backgrounds. The chaos of a photoshoot never got easier. The sooner he could get through these “fake happiness” last minute winter shoots, mostly for social media, the better. The head photographer shouted him in place - telling me which way to stand or sit, what to hold, how to pose, what face to wear. His body and expressions moved on auto-pilot. His thoughts wandered to the memories of the skating he’d done with Ladybug the night before. She understood him in a way that no one else likely ever would - able to read his REAL body expressions.

“Adrien Agreste, get your head out of the clouds and down here onto the fake snow,” someone snapped, pulling his full attention back to the business at hand.

The day promised to be one of chaos. Early photoshoot, obligatory fitness workout, rehearsal for a big presentation at an upcoming Christmas charity event, guest appearance on behalf of his father at two different events, another short photoshoot (outdoors - which sounded uncomfortable), followed by an evening at the 2nd or 3rd Christmas gala of the season. Hopefully there would be time to eat somewhere in there.

Rushing from thing to thing on his schedule, Adrien mused over the busyness. Why did Christmas obligate people to fill their lives with meaningless activities and fake smiles? He would give anything to just sit together with his family and enjoy each other’s company in quietude.

By the time he arrived home from the gala, dressed to the nines in one of his father’s top-line suits, that hollow feeling had returned. The oversized tree sparkling with lights and silver ornaments screamed how fake this holiday season felt - meaningless, impersonal, and just there because of obligation.

He was too tired to do much else, stripping down to slip into some comfortable pajamas and tossing an extra chunk of cheese at his kwami. Briefly, he transformed, mostly to check if there were any messages on his baton.

One unread message.

“Hey Chat, I have this idea. Can we get together tomorrow? Say…. 10pm? The tower?”

He typed back a quick message in agreement, mentally sifting through the day’s schedule, then flopped himself onto his bed with muttered words to transform back into his civilian clothes.

At 9:45pm, Chat Noir burst out of Adrien’s bedroom window and raced over the rooftops. The snow from two days earlier had vanished, leaving things with a slightly damp look. Crisp winter air singed his cheeks, but it felt refreshing after yet another busy day.

Ladybug stood waiting at their usual Eiffel Tower hangout, a large bag slung over her back.

“So, what’s up, LB?” he asked, wondering what exactly she hid in a bag that size.

“Follow me,” she said, jumping away. Whatever hid in the bag rattled as she took off. He hurried to keep up with her as she yo-yoed across the city, landing finally in a small park. She slipped the bag from her back, the rattling (and possible jingle?) sounding out. She unzipped it with deliberate slowness, giving him a grin.

Inside sat decorations.

“What are we -” he cut himself off as she laughed, pulling one of the silver spheres from her trove.

“We’re going to decorate this tree. Together. It’s an important Christmas tradition!”

Suddenly, he realized that he hadn’t even noticed the large evergreen tree in front of them. He must have frozen long enough with his mouth open in surprise that Ladybug had managed to hang 4 or 5 ornaments before asking if he was going to help. Springing into action, he carefully grabbed a ball and placed it onto the tree. A few ornaments later, he found himself wonderously tangled by tinsel with Ladybug laughing hysterically. He could feel his cat ears drooping as he asked for some help getting loose.

When the bag was emptied, they stood side by side admiring their work.

“Perfect.” He had to admit, she was right. They had done a terrific job. And it meant so much more to put together a tree with someone he cared about. Better than the team of professional decorators that Nathalie had hired this year.

“Tomorrow? Same time? Eiffel Tower?”

He had no idea what she planned to do, but he nodded, unable to stop the smile that crept onto his face.

-------------

Everything was ready. Flour. Ginger. Molasses. Sugar. Marinette looked around the bakery kitchen with the feeling that she’d forgotten *something* but time to meet Chat crept closer. Maman and Papa had been more than generous when she had asked to use the kitchen for a couple of nights.

“As long as you don’t touch any of the morning’s baking,” her mother had answered, not needing any other explanation.

“Time to go!” chirped Tikki, wide blue eyes twinkling. “I think he’s going to love this one.”

“I know he will.” Taking one last glance at everything laid out, Marinette transformed and raced to find her partner waiting with anticipation at the tower.

“Follow me.”

She led him back to the bakery with an elaborate explanation of how the owners had graciously let her use their kitchen. From there, Ladybug spent the night helping Chat discover the joys of making a gingerbread house from scratch. Much laughter ensued as flour ended up on faces, ginger sent Chat into sneeze fits, and Ladybug discovered her partner’s lack of skills in a kitchen. By the end of their adventure that stretched early into the morning hours, they had a pair of iced together houses, one more askew than the other.

“Go sleep now, Kitty. We’ll decorate them tomorrow night.” The excited twinkle in his eyes before he escaped made her smile when she finally crashed onto her bed for a few hours of sleep.

The next night consisted of a sugar-fuelled cat boy, happily slapping candies and decorations to his somewhat lopsided gingerbread house. The next, she set up a laptop with a Christmas video on a nearby rooftop with some thick blankets and a thermos of peppermint tea. An afternoon visit to a local library ended up with them sitting in the middle of the children’s section with kids climbing all over them as the librarian read The Grinch and other kids acted it out.

A midnight excursion wandering through Paris, taking in all the amazing light displays led to another spent window shopping well after most Parisians were sleeping. He hadn’t ever really just looked at window displays for their artistic value before.

The following night, all plans were thwarted by the Giftster - an akuma who wrapped everyone up in paper and bows out of spite over a poorly wrapped gift. It took longer than she hoped to defeat the villain,leaving her a little sad that her plan for the night was ruined - the hot chocolate bar she’d put together cold and the whipped cream melted to liquid by the time they arrived.

“It’s still purr-fect, Ladybug. I don’t mind at all. It’s the people we’re with that make the holidays special, not the temperature of the drink.” He poured himself a large mug of cocoa and piled the top full of marshmallows, syrup, and sprinkles.”Delicious.”

---

Adrien’s view of Christmas shifted. The anticipation of Ladybug’s holiday shenanigans brought him more excitement than he had felt for the holidays in a long while. Nothing would ever replace the hole left by his mother’s disappearance, but at least this made him feel hopeful again instead of melancholy. With less than a week left to Christmas, he sat in his class for the last day before the two week break. Marinette lay flopped on her desk, possibly asleep, as Nino and Alya argued the merits of their gift wish lists.

“What about you, Agreste?” Alya snapped, poking Marinette awake with her elbow. “What are you doing this Christmas? Any big plans?”

He shrugged. “Not really.”

“No running off and sending your dad into Christmas Godzilla mode this year, ok?” Nino quipped. Adrien felt himself flush.

“I won’t,” he murmured. “Listen - last year was hard. The first Christmas without my mom, ok? She loved Christmas and it just feels … I don’t know. Christmas season is just … hard for me. I miss her so much.”

Realizing that he was killing their fun conversation, he decided to turn himself around. “But don’t worry! No running off this year. I promise. I’ve actually had a friend from work making sure that Christmas is awesome. We’ve gone ice skating, watched a really fun holiday movie, and we even made these gingerbread houses - from scratch! Even Mother didn’t do that!”

He told them all about the adventures that he’d been having and how special they’d made the holidays become, carefully avoiding any mention of their superhero selves. The more he rambled on about the activities he had been doing late in the nights with Ladybug, the more Marinette’s eyes grew wide. He stopped talking when she let out a strangled sound.

“Are you ok, Marinette?”

She sat frozen, statue-like for a long moment, staring blankly at him. Suddenly she jumped with a yelp, clutching at her side.

“Oh, yep. Yep. Totally good. I’m totally fine. Everything’s fine.” She let out a wild and panicky laugh, blinking rapidly. “I’m good. Are you good? Everyone’s good, right? Ok. I’m just - I’m just - Ms. Bustier? May I be excused to use the bathroom?”

And then she bolted, racing out of the classroom in a gangly, flailing pile of limbs. The whole classroom paused in their conversations for a quiet moment as they stared at the door, then with a universal shrug, returned to what they were doing.

“That was weird,” muttered Alya, frowning. “Even for Marinette.”

-----------

“Just breathe, Marinette. Breathe. In. Out. Innnnnnnn. Ouuuuuuuuuuut. Innnnnnnnnnnnnnnnn. Out.”

From the bathroom stall she hid in, Marinette could hear and see her kwami giving anti-panic attack advice, a blurry red dot floating in front of her face, but she couldn’t process the words being said. Adrien Agreste. Chat Noir. Adrien Agreste? Chat Noir. Nope. It just had to be a coincidence that Adrien’s “friend from work” had taken him on all the same adventures that Ladybug had put together for Chat Noir. Totally a coincidence that Chat missed someone special while Adrien missed his mother. Just coincidence.

Oh crap.

Chat Noir was Adrien Agreste. ADRIEN AGRESTE WAS CHAT NOIR.

She threw up in the toilet.

-------------

Chat couldn’t quite put his finger on what was different that night as they listened from the rooftops to a group of carollers in one of the parks. Ladybug sat a little farther away than she usually did. She didn’t roll her eyes at his jokes or speak much at all. In fact, she didn’t even look him in the eyes.

“Everything ok?” he asked finally, unable to stand the awkwardness any longer. Her head snapped at that, eyes connecting with his for the first time in the night.

“Oh. Yes, sorry. I just found out something about a friend today and it’s been hard to work through, that’s all.” She smiled, but it wasn’t a real smile - her eyes skittering away from him. He frowned.

“Want to talk about it? In generalized terms, I mean.”

She shook her head.

“No. I’d rather just listen to the music, ok?”

“Ok.”

The next evening, with only 2 days left to go before the big holiday arrived, Chat found himself at a local food bank, handing out meals to families whose faces shone with so much gratitude that it made him feel embarrassed to live as he did. Ladybug still seemed preoccupied. He smiled at her every time she tried to stealthily look at him, wondering exactly what was going on behind those brilliant blue eyes.

At the end of their volunteer time, they escaped to the rooftops.

“Are we doing anything special tomorrow?” he asked, wondering if the magical sense of Christmas had worn off for her. “It IS Christmas Eve after all.”

She gave him a look he couldn’t quite define.

“Are you ok, LB? You’ve been really … off for the last day or so.”

He watched as she opened and closed her mouth like a fish for a moment before snapping it shut. She visibly straightened her back.

“It’s nothing big, I promise, but yes - let’s meet at the tower tomorrow?” When he nodded, she flashed him an almost real smile before swinging off into the distance.

Plagg had no ideas, simply focusing on his cheese and musing over whether Adrien had any stocking fillers planned. The kwami tapped suggestively at the pictures in his Gentleman’s Camembert magazine.

Adrien gave up, hoping that whatever bothered Ladybug would be resolved by the time they got together tomorrow.

---------------

Christmas Eve dawned bright and crisp, the cold smell of winter on the air. Marinette did not want to get out of the coziness that her oversized comforter provided. If it hadn’t been for the wail of her akuma alert alarm forcing her to drag herself out of bed, she might not have for the whole day.

The realization that Adrien Agreste - face of perfection and heart of gold - and Chat Noir - jokester and impulsive rogue were the same person had left her rattled. Marinette had needed a few days to process it all, but she was slowly coming to terms with how much it meant to her to discover the boy she deeply cared for was also her best friend.

She swung across the city to find a Grinch-like akuma, green from head to toe with a red hat and coat. With a single touch, the lights and decorations found on the streets of Paris simply vanished. Anyone found in his path transformed into lumps of coal.

“I think he has the wrong city. This isn’t Whoville.” Chat voice chirped happily - sickeningly so, given the early hour of the morning. “Good morning, milady.”

“Morning, kitty.” With a yawn, she searched the akuma for clues where to find their target. “I’m guessing it’s the Santa hat. But we have to keep out of range of his hands. Turning to coal sounds like a terrible way to spend Christmas.”

With a nod, he stood up and extended his baton with a grin. “40 feet.” Then he launched himself off the rooftops to place himself securely in the path of the opponent.

“Hey, is that your resting Grinch face?” he taunted, starting his usual distraction methods. She watched for the briefest of moments as the akuma threw itself at her partner with a growl. If she could just sneak in behind while it was distracted, she could probably pull the hat from his head.

Things never are that easy when fighting akumas. Realizing that a second superhero attempted to stealth attack him, the Grinch whirled around, knocking her to the ground mid-pendulum arch. She hit the ground with a roll, dodging away from the outstretched hand. Chat responded with a careful leap, vaulting himself towards the villain and narrowly missing the hat. Acrobatic flips moved him back out of the way of danger.

A few cheesy puns about the Grinch and being green later, Chat still somehow managed to keep most of the attention on himself while Ladybug attempted another grab for the hat. Failing, the Grinch growled, grabbing onto Chat’s baton and flinging the cat boy into the air. Ladybug watched in horror as her partner landed right in the akuma’s grip, wide-eyed and legs kicking.

Mere seconds felt like hours, a black heaviness overcoming Chat from his toes to his face. She screamed his name, panic clawing at her heart. No. No! Her yo-yo whirred with renewed vigour, calling her Lucky Charm. Into her hands dropped a carefully wrapped, red-polka dotted present with a tag reading “For the Grinch.”

A plan clicked into place.

“Oh, Mr. Grinch. I have something for you.” The akuma dropped the lifeless stone figure of Chat Noir to the pavement with a loud thud, turning its attention instead to her. She thrust the present at him with a smile, which made him stop and cock his head sideways with a frown. If she hadn’t been so focused on where the hands of her opponent were in that moment, she would have started singing. After all, music won the day in the story of the Grinch - hadn’t it?

“Merry Christmas.”

Cautiously, the akuma accepted the gift, settling down on the pavement beside Chat’s coal statue to rip open the paper and see what his gift was. The moment the lid popped free, a brilliant flash of light went off, blinding the akuma long enough for Ladybug to grab the hat and tear it apart. Away fluttered the butterfly, captured a moment later in her yo-yo with a snap. Bubbles enveloped the akumatized victim. In its place sat a confused man.

Grabbing the remaining pieces of the gift box, Ladybug threw it up into the air with a shout, releasing the Miraculous butterflies. They swirled around everything. Lights and decorations reappeared. People changed back from coal to themselves. She watched with relief as Chat emerged from his own coal statue, throwing her arms around his neck.

“Whoa!” he yelped, arms wrapping around her to prevent himself from falling backwards onto the pavement.

“Stupid cat,” she murmured, prying herself free to pay attention to the man on the ground nearby. Helping him to his feet, she found herself giving Chat the chance to interact with the victim - watching in silence as her partner graciously reassured the man that everything was okay now and Christmas hadn’t been ruined.

With a wave, they escaped to the rooftops.

“So,” drawled Chat, giving her the most curious of looks. “I have a question for you. Why did you shout ‘Adrien’ when I turned to coal?”

Certain that her heart stopped, Ladybug froze. She hadn’t. Had she? She blinked at him, wondering exactly what to say, brain scrambling for words.

“Why would I call you Adrien? That’s just silly. You aren’t Adrien - you’re Chat Noir. Completely different people. You must have heard wrong. I’m sure I shouted for you, silly cat. Chat Noir. Not Adrien.” Realizing that she rambled stupidly, she snapped her mouth shut and waited.

He narrowed his eyes at her, the gaze heavy and searching before he laughed. “Of course. I must have been mistaken. See you tonight then, LB?”

She nodded and he saluted before running off. Breathing a sigh of relief, she headed home, hoping to get a little more sleep before the busy part of the day before Christmas required her attention.

-------

“She knows, Plagg. I don’t know how, but she knows who I am.” Adrien lay flat on his bed, arms thrown wide, eyes staring at the ceiling. “Is that why she’s been acting strange lately? Maybe she figured out who I am and doesn’t like that it’s me!”

A million ideas and thoughts raced through his mind, distracting him through the day’s schedules. Appearances here, appearances there. Fake smiles and poses for media cameras. No family time like all his friends. His Instagram feed showcased Nino and his brother working on making cookies, Alya’s family sitting around in their PJs playing board games, Marinette hard at work in the bakery with her parents. Sitting in the back of the car that drove him everywhere, Adrien felt that emptiness that always seeped in around Christmas. Alone, isolated, and now - Ladybug knew who he was to the point of not being able to look him in the eye. Christmas sucked.

When their designated meetup time approached, he dutifully transformed into Chat Noir, stuffing the gift he’d put chosen for her into one of his pockets. Hopefully she would at least like that.

Ladybug stood on their favourite platform of the Eiffel Tower, pacing back and forth with wild arm gestures. She must have really been deep in thought since she didn’t even hear him land on the metal railing.

“Merry Christmas!” he called out, making her jump in surprise, hand clutched to her heart and blue eyes popped open wide in a strangely familiar and out-of-place motion.

“Oh, Chat. You scared me.” He chuckled. “Merry Christmas.”

“So, what’s on the plans for tonight’s Christmas adventure?” he asked. “Anything exciting?”

She blinked twice, staring at him for longer than should feel comfortable.

“Oh. Right. I thought I’d give you a special gift. It’s a tradition that my family has to open one gift each on Christmas Eve, so I thought it would be fun to do that with you.”

It would be fun, he thought. As long as she still liked him.

“Can I go first?” he asked, pulling the small package from his pocket and thrusting it at her. “It’s not much, but it seemed to scream like the gift you needed.”

Inside held two small pins. The first - a tiny ladybug with closed wings, the other - a small white circle with a set of black cat ears and green eyes peeking up from the bottom. She laughed, telling him that his gift was wonderful and that she’d find the perfect place for them.

She took a deep breath before she passed him a gift bag.

“For you.”

Carefully, he pulled out the tissue paper and unwrapped something soft. Into his hand fell a palm-sized hand-stitched doll of himself - Chat Noir. Digging into the bag more, he found a matching Ladybug. Something nagged in the back of his mind that he’d seen dolls like these before - back when Manon had been akumatized. Marinette had made dolls that Manon wanted to play with. He flipped them over to admire the neat stitching work and attention to detail.

“These are adorable. Thank you so much. Did you get these from Marinette Dupain-Cheng? I think she had some similar to these.”

She made a funny sound before answering. “Kind of? I made them for you.”

She had made them? He frowned in confusion.

Ladybug stepped forward, pulling the dolls gently out of his hands and putting them back in the bag before putting it on the ground. She closed her eyes, took a deep breath, and moved so that she was achingly close.

“Tikki. Spots off.”

He didn’t have time to close his eyes, other than to wince slightly at the bright and unexpected flash of pink light as Ladybug’s transformation dropped. In her place stood Marinette herself, a heavy black cat-ear hoodie pulled up over her head. An homage to himself, he realized. Two heartbeats later, she raised herself up on her tiptoes, hands clutching at his arms, warm lips pressing against his.

She stepped back before he could even react, whispering “Merry Christmas, my kitty - Adrien Agreste.”

He stared into her bluebell eyes, the pieces of the puzzle in his life clicking together in the most wonderful of ways. She did know. And she kissed him. Marinette Dupain-Cheng had turned a season full of disappointment and missing his mother into something full of memories and wonder. She had turned it into the best Christmas he had ever had.

“Thank you, milady Marinette Dupain-Cheng. Merry Christmas to you, too.”

As he dared to pull her close and kiss her for real, he realized that snowflakes were falling gently on Paris. How romantic.

#ml secret santa #miraculous ladybug #ml fanfic #lyramaearcher #miraculous fanworks #adrien agreste #marinette dupain cheng #marinette and adrien #ladybug and chat noir #identity reveal #christmas #christmas fun

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