On The Origins Of The Paraglider

Prologue

Next (whenever that’ll be)

The Lost Princess of the Lost City - Part 1

Part I - Part II - Part III - Part IV I had a lot of Wulfenbach family feels after reading the first Girl Genius novel, and this just kind of poured out of me. Kind of a fix-it fic, I guess? People actually talk to each other and so good things happen. I will definately be writing more of this, I just love these idiots so much. (Also, credit for a lot of the details of Gil’s backstory goes to the absolutely amazing fic Well Met at Mechanicsburg. Seriously. Go read it.)

Superpower Wiki

Plant Physiology

The power to transform into, have the physical traits of plant-based beings, or be made up of plant materials. Technique of Plant Manipulati

Superpower Wiki

Cycle Creation

The power to create cycles. Sub-power of Omni-Cycle Manipulation. Variation of Creation. Cycle Generation User can create cycles of any kind

Click on it twice. These are your two super powers.

Social Media and Chat Noir are definitely Best Friends and nothing can convince me otherwise.

A condensed list of Things Chat Noir Has Shown Us Through Social Media:

   • Selfies with street performers he just so happened to see during patrols

   • Selfies in general of him making the grossest duck face he possibly can in front of couples and tourists, who are all just trying to mind their own business

   • Videos of him narrating what random alley cats are doing, because he’s a self-proclaimed cat whisperer and needs everyone to know (he doesn’t actually speak cat, he’s bullshitting you)

   • A vine series where the camera is pointed directly at Ladybug’s face as he starts naming off random green-eyed, blond celebrities, claiming them to be his secret identity, and catching all of Ladybug’s reactions. Her reactions become increasingly angrier as the series goes on. (The series ends when Chat claims to be Adrien Agreste and she straight up screams so loudly he drops the camera)

   • A video of him with street clothes over his suit and big ass sunglasses over his mask, arm over certified civilian Marinette Dupain-Cheng’s shoulders, who is also wearing big ass sunglasses. They’re drinking smoothies and shit-talking fashion designers very loudly. Marinette says she loves Gabriel Agreste’s work but she’d punch him in the face bc he needs an attitude adjustment. Chat chokes on his smoothie

   • An interview he does with Alya except he’s wearing a fake mustache the entire time and doing an unexpectedly amazing job at keeping a straight face.

   • Posts of him complaining about how people throw away perfectly good cardboard boxes and how truly offended he is like are you joking—

   • Posts of him gushing over how much he loves Ladybug and wow he’s definitely going to be embarrassed by those 5 years from now

   • Selfies of him in a group of Chat Noir cosplayers, the last selfie featuring the look on their faces as they check their social media and realise holy fuck that’s the real Chat Noir aND HE’S POSTING PICS OF US

   • An hour long video of him explaining why Physics Is Awesome and you should love it too. He somehow does this while cramming puns in almost every single sentence. How does he not get tired

   • A list of his personal anime recommendations, most of them unsurprisingly featuring cats in one way or another. His favourite movie is The Cat Returns

   • An ungodly amount of puns revolving around him being bi

   • An interrupted alley cat video where Marinette calls him over to her balcony and drags him inside because she wants to turn it into a makeup video. He ends up with black lipstick, flawless contouring, and beautiful eyeliner. He comes back for another video because “I really rocked the black lipstick”

   • Unintelligible posts he made while accidentally high on catnip

   • A picture, taken by a kid who found his baton, of him tangled up in a poor old woman’s ball of yarn she was using to knit a scarf. Thankfully she seems amused and not ready to beat him with her purse

   • A vine of him absentmindedly pushing things off the edge of counters, buildings, and desks, filmed by Ladybug herself without his knowledge. He’s always smiling evilly after the act

   • Badly photoshopped pictures he’s made with his and Ladybug’s faces pasted onto infamous movie covers

   • That One Time He Was On A Talk Show And Was Permanently Banned

   • A cute video of him responding to fan questions from a livestream.

   • “I do not pose all the time I don’t know what gave you that ide—” suddenly glitter falls from nowhere, he’s giving his most powerful smoulder, body draped over a gargoyle. Ladybug is staring at him from above, unimpressed

   • Videos of him antagonizing and shit-talking Hawkmoth. Akumas start targeting him viciously and he mentions in a video how fucking amazing it is that his greatest enemy is actually following him on social media, he’s laughing

   • Selfies he’s taken with elderly ladies he’s found around Paris, all of which have captions along the lines of “I met a gorgeous woman today!” or “this young lady was gracious enough to give this tomcat the pleasure of a photo in her presence!”

   • A post of him cursing out catnip and how much he hated that his friends are now drinking tea made out of the stuff like she just had to like gardening, she just had to plant catnip, she just had to share the tea with her friends, he just had to have the worst luck in the world—

   • Memes. All the memes. He likes to bring the oldest ones back, knowing full well just how horrible they are.

   • A video of him reacting to a video of people complimenting him. He’s bright red by the end of the video. (Obviously Nino, Marinette, and Alya are included. Nino and Marinette are the most enthusiastic ones out of the whole lot)

   • “Why are you so active with social media, Chat Noir? Most superhero stories don’t go that way.” “Well, I want everyone to know that I am an idiot. An imbecile. A complete and utter moron. It’s reassuring that you are all fully aware of that fact, yet still trust the fate of the city in my paws. Which, to be fair, is a dumb move on your part as well, Paris. We are all buffoons, apparently.”

Feel free to add to the list in any way you can

Kwami muses!

And to cap off the one am sketchdump, the kwami muses I drew literal months ago for @tanoraqui’s superhero/miraculous au

Have just spent several hours hunting this down, am now reblogging to make it easier to find

Tech hacks into priority chat because the Bad Batch want to know if there are any regs that are not “normal”. They stare in confusion and interest when they begin to see that maybe no one is “normal” or sane.

Or you know. Technically as unit commander Hunter is entitled access… hehehe OneNoted 

Zelda Reacts Part 7

helloooooo everyone! Merry Christmas if you celebrate it and Happy New Year in advance! I'm thrilled I managed to do this before the end of the year, things have been hectic but I SO missed making these aaaaaaaa

this was another highly requested outfit, and I do love this one a lot so it was fun to draw. somethin' about Link in black...👀 (also feels like a missed opportunity to do the Tingle set for Christmas, but oh well, it's coming later XD)

Part 6: Voe <<<

Iroh: People work their entire lives to find spirits and access the spirit world. It has taken years of dedication and study for me to reach the small part of it that I’m able to find.

Sokka, who accidentally steered a canoe to where the Avatar had been frozen for a century and then fell in love with the moon and also spent 24 hours in the spirit world that one time and was the only one who the hallucinations flat-out spoke to in the magical swamp: what, like it’s hard?

Reblogging to preserve this DC/MK rabbit hole.

So between google-fu and E-J dictionary, I have figured out that “What would Edogawa Conan do?” is “Edogawa Conan wa nani o surudarou” and would acronym as EKOWANAOSU.  Six kana, to fit on the middle three fingers of each hand, and divided across hands as E-KO-WA NA-O-SU.  Which also happens to mean “E. Ko. repairs/fixes/corrects/heals”.

(Help help the DCMK prison population is deifying Edogawa Conan.)  (Also they are punning him.)

Stand-In Journalist

“You want me to do what?”

Marinette’s vaguely aware that her voice may have been a tad too loud, especially considering the fact that Alya had been attempting to whisper to her just moments ago. She’s also vaguely aware that’s she’s attracted the attention of most students currently walking up the school steps, including that of her crush, Adrien Agreste. Surprisingly, she finds herself unbothered. And more than a little distracted.

“Alya, you’re joking, right? You have to be.”

“Girl, shush,” Alya hisses out, wrapping an arm over Marinette’s shoulders and taking glances around them. It seems a little on the paranoid side, but Marinette isn’t one to judge.

“Listen, my grandma has to go into surgery, so me and my family have to take off for a week. I really, really, wish I could do this myself, but I’ve got no other choice right now. I know you’re busy with all your commissions, and the bakery, and class president stuff, but Nino sucks at talking professionally, and Adrien’s, like, never allowed out of the mansion.”

“What makes you think I’d be a better choice in comparison to literally every other student in our class?”

Alya rolls her eyes at all.

“Marinette, I’ve heard your customer service voice.”

“Ah.”

Right. Helping out her parents at the bakery meant an awful lot of occasions where she’d had to deploy the infamous customer service voice. After all, they do own one of the most popular bakeries in all of Paris, which meant attracting quite a lot of tourists.

Unlike America, the Dupain-Cheng bakery doesn’t take bullshit. She makes sure to let rude customers know that just from the tone of her voice.

If she tells you to leave, you leave. She only needs to say it once.

“Besides,” Alya continues on. “If you do this for me, you can consider all of your IOUs paid off.”

“Do what?”

The two girls look away from each other in surprise, now noticing they had the attention of their resident model. Despite teasingly calling out Marinette as an eavesdropper, everyone’s rather aware of his nosy tendencies. (Not many can blame him, though. He’s not socially incompetent, but boundaries are still not his strong point. Really, considering his only friend for years was Chloé, well… It’s understandable, to a point.)

“And what makes you think that’s your business, Agreste?” Alya smirks, placing a hand on her hip and using the other occupied one to pull Marinette closer.

She’s been doing that around Adrien a lot, testing some theory about Adrien and his touchy-feely habits. Marinette decided she didn’t want any part of that and didn’t ask any further.

“Well,” Adrien playfully smirks back. “I overheard―”

“Eavesdropped,” Alya loudly whispers into Marinette’s ear, who giggles in response.

“Overheard,” Adrien corrects, though he’s clearly smiling. “You pressuring poor Marinette into doing something that she doesn’t seem to want to do. So I was just curious, is all.”

He pauses, glancing back and forth between the two girls.

“This wouldn’t happen to have anything to do with Lila, would it?”

Alya bursts out into a short laugh, not realising the fond look Marinette shoots Adrien’s way or how his shoulders are tensed, maybe even worried.

“No way! This is way more important than that! Marinette’s just filling in for me for one of my, uh… Ladyblog duties.”

Adrien relaxes, then smiles almost knowingly.

“Ah, I see. Nino said you’re going out of town in two days, right?”

“Yup! But you’re not getting any more than that. Now shoo, we got a lot to talk about.”

“Wait, hey,” Marinette protests. “I didn’t agree yet!”

“So you’re not going to take the opportunity to pay off all your IOUs in one sitting?”

The designer snaps her mouth shut and stares off into space for a moment, brows knit together and cheeks puffed up in what seems to be intense consideration.

“… Okay, deal.”

“Yes! Let’s go, then! Bye, Adrien!”

And with that, Alya drags Marinette away before the poor girl realises who she was standing in front of, and accidentally makes a fool of herself as a result.

———————————————————————————————————–

Alya had given Marinette most of the material she would need to do the job. Not only that, but she had coached Marinette through lines and responses, and how to use her customer service voice and morph it into a similar but distinctly different interviewer voice.

With all that, you would think that Marinette would be prepared for what she was about to do. But the truth of the matter is that no, she was not prepared. In fact, she was the opposite of prepared. While, yes, the chairs and cameras were all set up, and everything looked neat and tidy, and she was wearing her best professional clothing— a ruffled pink top and grey pencil skirt— Marinette was…

Well, she was freaking out. She had never practiced with the blinding light fixtures or with a camera pointed directly at her face. She never practiced her lines with anyone other than Alya. She only learned how to turn the cameras on today, right when Nino had finished up putting the cameras in place and was about to go home before curfew. 

It was just the push of a simple button, so that shouldn’t be something to worry about, but the fact of the matter was that she hadn’t even considered she would be the one responsible for the cameras. Which left the question― What else was she responsible for, that she hadn’t even anticipated?

“Well, this is a surprise.”

Oh god, he’s already here.

Plastering on a forced smile, Marinette turns her attention to a silhouette crouching on a high window. The crescent moon is hovering just behind his head, and his eyes seem to glow in the darkness of the corner he was in. He’s clearly already putting on a show, and Marinette realises with some panic that she doesn’t have a camera lined up in that direction.

Was… Was she supposed to move it? No, no, what if she accidentally breaks it? No, she can’t move it. But what if Alya wants this footage?

“Hello, Chat Noir,” Marinette forces out, stopping herself from prematurely pressing the record button. She… She’s supposed to do something first before doing that, but she’s forgotten what.

The superhero jumps down from his perch and walks into the artificial lighting, smiling easily and swinging his lower body over the back of the velvety red armchair, sinking into the seat cushions. 

“I was under the assumption that our favourite ladyblogger would be conducting the interview.”

“She had a family emergency, so I’ll be taking her place this time.”

His smile twitches down a bit, then completely fades away. His gaze grows more intense.

“… I see.”

An awkward silence stretches between them, and Marinette feels her face gradually heat up in embarrassment. Her mind is completely blank. 

“Marinette, are you alright?”

It takes her more than a couple seconds to process that question, and when she does, her embarrassment increases tenfold.

“I’m fine, sorry about that. Just got lost in thought. Anyways, are you prepared for the interview?”

Apparently, her response displeases him, because he stands up and walks around the table between them, stopping just beside her. His eyes never leave her face.

“… Marinette, I think you’re either having an anxiety attack right now, or you’re dissociating.”

“Am I,” is her automatic response. He doesn’t say anything, only frowning as though he was given a rather unfortunate answer. He reaches for his baton and opens it up, kneeling down beside her legs. He takes several minutes to check something up, reads through it, then puts the baton away.

“Okay, definitely dissociating,” he mumbles to himself. He stands up again then goes over to the equipment, and Marinette doesn’t do anything to stop him from messing with it. 

Abruptly, the lights shut off. 

“Marinette, you okay? Do you hear me?”

His voice is soft in the darkness, which is comforting, but it’s still distressing that she can’t see. Yes, the lights were horrible, but now the only thing in her vision is the imprint of a bright, blueish hue, fixed in place no matter how many times she blinks or where she looks.

“Marinette?”

His voice is closer, now, but even softer, just shy of a whisper. She hums in response, then blinks a few more times. One of the light fixtures is moved out of the way, allowing for moonlight to splash over the table and chair in front of her. Her shoulders untense, just a little. There’s still spots in her vision, but she can see now, so it doesn’t matter.

“Do you want me to keep talking?”

Yes, yes, she would very much like that. Her body is beginning to feel a little shaky, but she manages to give the voice a sharp nod. The voice? Who was she talking to again? She couldn’t—

“You know, I lied when I said I was surprised,” the voice says, interrupting her spiralling thoughts. “I knew that Alya was gonna be out of town, I had overheard about it. I also know you’re her best friend, so I kind of expected to see you. I was really excited about it.”

A figure moves in front of her, briefly, before once again getting comfortable in the plush red seat. His lips move in time with the voice.

“I really enjoy talking with you. It’s really easy to trust you with things I wouldn’t tell others, because you’re very respectful and kind. I’m honestly amazed that you never told Alya about that whole balcony thing, the day Glaciator attacked. I didn’t even have to tell you not to say anything, you just naturally understand boundaries like that.”

Chat Noir smiles in a way that’s nothing like all the previous smiles she’s ever seen on his face.

Right. Chat Noir. She’s talking to Chat Noir, because she was supposed to be filling in for Alya, who is out of town, for an exclusive one-on-one interview with Chat Noir. And she…

And she already messed up.

“Oh, God,” she says with sudden realisation. She quickly raises both hands to squish them against the front of her face, covering up her burning cheeks. “Oh, God, I can’t believe that just happened.”

“Hey, it’s alright—”

“No, it’s not alright, because I promised Alya I would get this done, and that it would be perfect, but I totally messed up everything because I couldn’t keep my stupid feelings in check, again, and Alya had worked so hard and deserves—”

“Marinette, stop.”

She flinches back, and sees Chat Noir now seated down on the table, his knees just barely bumping into hers on either side. He leans forward and takes hold of both her hands, placing them on her lap.

“You need to stop thinking about what Alya will think or how she would do this. You’re not Alya. You may be the stand-in journalist, but that doesn’t mean to have to do everything by her rules.”

“But, no, this is Alya’s interview, she—”

“She’s not here right now. You are. Listen Marinette, you can’t do this by pretending to be some imitation of Alya. If you want an authentic, smooth-going interview, you’ll need to go about this your own way. Everything you learned from Alya is going to be your base template. A resource for you to borrow from. You with me so far?”

Marinette presses her lips together and nods. Chat smiles and cups her cheeks, using his thumbs to brush away tears she hadn’t even known she’d shed.

“Good. Now then, tell me how Marinette Dupain-Cheng would interview a superhero.”

———————————————————————————————————–

The light fixtures were back in place, now at a much lower level than they were previously. The table had been moved out of the way, allowing for the chairs to be close enough that either one of them could stick their leg out to kick the other, easily. The cameras were rearranged to film at different angles, now, and no camera view excluded either of the two out of the shot.

Most importantly, Marinette had ditched the file Alya had provided her. She already knew the questions by heart, anyways, in case she needed to use one of them.

“You ready to begin?”

It’s funny, really, that the interviewee was asking that, and not the interviewer. 

“Yeah,” Marinette responds. “Let’s get this show started.”

And with that, the cameras start rolling. Marinette grins at camera A, placed to have a perfect side-view recording of both parties from a distance.

“Bonjour, Paris! I’m Marinette Dupain-Cheng, and while I’ve literally never done an interview in my life, Alya Césaire decided that I would be the purrfect replacement in her absence. So, really, you should blame her for this.”

Chat snorts loudly at that.

“Continuing on, today we’ll be asking our favourite feline superhero, Puss in Boots, a few questions. Say hello, kitty!”

“Oh, God,” Chat says in-between a short bout of laughter. “Bonjour, Paris. Just so you know, I did nothing to deserve this blatant mistreatment.”

“Hush,” Marinette says, giving him a light kick in the shin. “I punned for you. I get a pass.”

“What? No way, you can’t get passes for animal cruelty.”

“Oh, you’re an animal now? Way to start this interview off strong for your lady fans, Chat Noir. Please, do go on.”

The interview goes by smoothly. There’s never a lull in conversation, boundaries remain untouched, and the atmosphere remains playful, warm, personal, and overall enjoyable.

But, it isn’t the end.

“Are you sure you want to do this, Marinette?”

She sighs, picking up the file she had previously discarded, squinting due to the bright lights. 

“I won’t lie and say I didn’t enjoy doing things my way, but I did promise Alya that I’d do it the way she planned it. So, we might as well film this version as well, right? She can decide for herself which one she likes better. Besides, I…”

She smiles.

“I feel a lot better now. I think I can do this.”

“Alright then,” Chat concedes. “Let’s take it from the top, then.”

———————————————————————————————————–

Alya has watched both videos at least ten times each, and she has to admit, the superior one is rather clear. As much as she doesn’t like it, Marinette was clearly more in her element in the first one filmed, which went on to further charge the chemistry between her and Chat.

And boy, was there chemistry. 

That leads to the next problem. If she posts the first video, Paris would practically erupt, a new brand of shippers will jump into the scene, and Hawkmoth may very well place a target on her best friend’s back.

If she posts the second video, her followers would find the interviewer rather lackluster, and possibly make a lot of rude comments that she doesn’t want her best friend to be subjected to.

… Really, the answer to her dilemma would be pretty obvious. Marinette can handle a few internet jerks. It’s no big deal, and, most importantly, it won’t get her targeted by Hawkmoth. 

But the thing is… Marinette and Chat Noir want her to post the first video. They wouldn’t have filmed it and given it to her if they hadn’t wanted it to go public.

The ladyblogger leans back into her desk chair and sighs, glancing towards the bedside digital clock while biting down on her thumb. 1:53. She really needs to make a decision, otherwise she’ll never be able to actually go to bed.

Her sleep deprived mind suddenly gets an idea. She latches on to it, posting both videos with different captions, then collapses into her bed with a sigh of relief. She’ll deal with the consequences tomorrow.

———————————————————————————————————–

Chat Noir is a little shit and he’s going to pay. 

She feels fooled. Bamboozled. A few nights ago, he had been gentle and kind, had given her good advice, and encouraged her to do her best without sacrificing the way she is. That Chat Noir was an inspiration. A friend and an ally. Someone she trusts and could count on. 

The Chat Noir of today made her realise that, yes, while he can be all those things, he’s still a little storm of trouble, mischief, and utter bullshit. 

And she was not prepared for this. 

It’s only been a day since the interviews have been posted, but almost immediately after they had gone public, Chat Noir decided to post a link to it on his social media and make comments.

Ones specifically made to rile up every shipper, analyst, and hero fan in Paris.

If she gets stopped one more time by some creepy adult fan who thinks it’s perfectly okay to grab a little teenager by the wrist, she’s going to kick their fucking ass. 

She eyes the expensive fabric scissors with an expression that screams murder. She wonders if it could tear through a magical catsuit. Probably not. Besides, she’d have to pay for it if she gets blood on it, and she only brought enough money to get herself some fabric.

Ugh.

She feels her hands twitch as her phone dings with another update on Chat Noir’s twitter. Begrudgingly, she shoves her hand into her purse and fishes it out, wondering what he could possibly be saying now. Seriously, how has he not exhausted himself yet? Wasn’t he awake at, like, 2 in the morning?

Marinette is not a toy. Quit grabbing her and asking her questions on the street. She’s a person. I SEE you, lady in the blue cardigan at the fabric store. She’s 13. Back. Off.

Quickly, she whips her head around to look over her shoulder, catching sight of a middle-aged woman in a navy blue cardigan. The woman is looking down at her phone, silently walking away in embarrassment.

Her phone dings thrice again.

Hey Paris, remember when I DIDN’T need to play bodyguard because you guys were respectful towards teenaged girls who were lucky enough to interact with superheroes? Let’s go back to that.

Seriously, I only noticed like 30 minutes ago when I saw some university guy corner her on the street. What the hell’s going on? @ladyblogger Was this a normal occurrence and me and Ladybug just didn’t know?

I admit I was joking around and maybe fueling some ship wars but I didn’t expect grown adults to take that as a sign to harass a young girl. Knock it off and wake up, real life isn’t the internet. 

…

Well, Marinette decides. She supposes the cat will live to see another day.

Ding!

To the TV crew hanging out at the entrance of the fabric store: Filming and interrogating a 13 year old without parental consent is illegal. I WILL apprehend you. Leave.

A minute later, Marinette hears about a dozen curses from multiple people at the front of the store, and the rushed packing of equipment.

With a smirk, Marinette sends out a tweet of her own.

Wassup, Paris, thanks for landing me my very own furry stalker, @therealchatnoir. Much appreciated. Always wanted one of those.

Ding!

?!?!?!? FURRY?!?! EXCUSE ME?!?!

Marinette cackles and pockets her phone, ignoring the resulting dings.

DON’T PUT YOUR PHONE AWAY ON ME, HEY!!! HEYYYY!!!!

I’M NOT A FURRY TAKE YOUR PHONE OUT YOU COWARD

dcvgthgrfCFRVGTBHYGVRFCDEX F I G H T M E

I’LL SPAM YOU DON’T THINK I WON’T DO IT. HEY LADYBLOGGER GIVE ME HER NUMBER I JUST WANNA TALK

Marineeeeetttteeeeee don’t ignore me pleeaaaaseeee ;(((((

He’s a dork. He’s sweet and kind, but ultimately he’s a total dork. 

And maybe a little her type.

…

She buys black fabric, that day.

———————————————————————————————————–

“Please? Pleaaase?”

“No, Alya.”

“Oh come on, just one with Ladybug!”

“I can’t, Alya. I’m busy that day. Ask Adrien to do it or something.”

“… You know what? I will. He’s free Wednesday morning, right?”