#plot plot plot oh man we plottin'

[kaythefloppa]

Part 2 of the review is under the cut! Beware of spoilers!

Again, I will re-iterate: This specific animation feels on par with an actual theatrical release (or hell, even some of those polished Disney direct-to-DVD movies in the 2000s like Lion King 3 or Bambi II). It is beautiful to look at.

The only animals that can take down a blue whale are Orcas, but beyond that, yes size does matter when it comes to a blue whale's low mortality rate.

I really find it sweet how this show casually has Chris naming animal friends. The show initially set it up as being Martin's "thing" and presenting Chris doing it as a rarity, but now they just have it as the "new normal" where he can name animals without Martin's influence. The very next episode does a juxtaposition of this where the entire crew goes around naming animals as the plot, but it's not a bad juxtaposition at all.

Also, I really like the idea of them naming baby animals in the language of their region. Maybe it's because I've spent too much time in the Lion King fandom but I find that really unique. (And context: Mambiky means "Jump" in Malgasy).

Since he didn't name the mom, I will: Mihira (meaning "Sing" in Malagasy)

Maybe it's because I hyper fixate on the flash games too much which resulted in me caring way more about the disc colors than I should, but it is so aesthetically pleasing that these discs are blue and green to match their animals' colors and users (I forgot to mention this in Part 1 but the Anaconda Disc should've been green dammit)

I am slowly warming up to these new suits. I'm not even kidding. I like how goofy they are. And once again, this is the same episode where the fucking Wild Pony Suit was in a callback, so of course I'm going to praise these suits.

She plottin'

Those Zachbots get mangled by the enemy literally once a week and yet they're strong enough to chuck this big-ass turtle into the beach?? Also, what happened to that Tortuga disruptor blast, that would be very useful right now.

Also also, the Tortuga can swim. This is the equivalent of throwing a crocodile into the river with the intent to kill it, hoping it won't bite you or swim away to safety.

I did the math. They spent a full minute and 10 seconds focusing on this model of the Earth completely deteriorating. When I first asked, I kept asking myself "What is the point?" I've seen this episode almost four times - Knowing how it ends, I think this episode would have shot itself in the foot if they didn't include this scene. More on that later, but yeah, it is a good scene.

Fun fact: This is the exact reason why Indris are endangered. And for a species that literally cannot evolve anywhere else that, is a keystone species of the very habitat they have gone to evolve in, that is the last thing they need. I'm surprised the episode didn't mention that, but that's just me.

Legitimate question here: Where the fuck is Rex?

No really, where the fuck is he? He's usually the one who mans the pavers while Paisley overviews. We saw him literally just 2 episodes ago. In a vacuum, it makes little sense, but is equally as minute of an issue. But once again, if you know how this episode ends, it becomes a major plot-hole. If they resolve this in a future episode, ideally in the next batch of episodes, fine I'll lay off but there is no reason for him to not be here.

Notice Zach and Paisley's differing reactions to the Kratts telling them to fuck off. This will come into play later, but it is a decent example of a set-up to a pay-off, (again, can only be noticed from a retrospective view). And I think it does help said pay-off.

I know that Zach has tried to kill the bros before multiple times, as with all the other villains but I can't be the only one who was shocked at how the Zachbots almost SLICED CHRIS IN HALF on a kids' show. I actually yelled "oh shit!" a this!

God this is such an asspull it's not even funny...

1. SINCE F**KING WHEN?!?!?!

2. "Theoretically"

BULLSHIT!!!

ZACH HAS LITERALLY DONE THE EXACT SAME THING BECAUSE IT WAS A FLAW. A BUG. NOT A FEATURE. A BUG. THAT HE FOUND OUT. AND EXPLOITED. THAT YOU NEVER FIXED. I REPEAT. BULL. FUCKING. SHIT.

3. If you could do this now, what stopped you from doing it at ANY point in the series??

4. What the fuck happened to the Creature Souvenir collection? All Chris could've done was tell Jimmy to reverse teleport shed anaconda skin back to the HQ and save it for later.

5. What are the point of the gloves if you can hit the rewind button on the suit? Since the animal's DNA apparently doesn't mean jackshit here???

6. Did it not occur to you that maybe Zach, who has done this countless of times before for years on end, would probably be able to undo what you plan on doing, because that's EXACTLY what he does!

7. WHY IS THIS EVEN POSSIBLE??? THE ENTIRE EXISTENCE OF THE RING CHIP WAS TO PREVENT THIS. THERE ARE SO MANY THINGS THAT CAN GO WRONG WHICH THIS DOES.

This is the woman who invented time travel, I'm being selfish by expecting basic fucking logic to dictate this situation.

So there's a Blue Crab Power Suit now?? Don't you think that would've been more effective, especially since this is the beach?? Will we ever get a blue crab episode?? Does anything mean anything anymore????

Still better than the Mountain Goat Suit.

We stan a self-aware queen (also, replace this image with Dr. Frankenstein and his monster with the same dialogue, you will get the EXACT same effect).

S7 please stop giving me reasons to slander Aviva, it hurts me more than it hurts you.

Petition to have Chris be the new villain in Kung Fu Panda 5, the Chameleon ain't got shit on him.

THis show can be hilariously badass when it needs to be.

And here is a huge contender for the best scene in the entire damn show. These 2 octopuses go out of their way to save Chris from the Zachbot. It's one of those things that is so random that it you wind up liking it so much because of what it does.

Also, I think there was a missed opportunity for Chris to activate Octopus Power here.

I like how polite she was in asking them to leave. At first glance, it's odd and funny, but just wait. We're reaching the home stretch here.

Once again, this is another juxtaposition and one that is so cleverly written. Paisley is obsessed with order, believing nature to be messy and in need of "correction" through building. Her entire belief system being deconstructed by seeing the coral reef being built naturally and seeing its beauty is an amazing bit of dramatic irony that surprises me even for this show. It's an interesting study on the character.. (though the fact that up until this point she's been painfully underutilized, makes previous episodes.. feel kinda downy).

This is another interesting step. Most villain redemptions (well written ones at least) focus on the villain regretting their past actions and acknowledging them to be in the wrong. Whilst that step is (unfortunately) kinda missing in this episode, it showcases something equally enthralling. They change for the better out of a specific concern for the future. As in, "If I stop doing X, then this bad thing will not happen because it should not happen." I don't often see that enough in most shows, so once again, this is a very ingenuitive take on the character. If I sound like a parrot, it's only because this particular moment of the episode is the beginning of the trajectory change for the entire fucking show, so I have to focus on it and how it's written specifically so we can get to the elephant in the room.

There is nothing - Absolutely nothing that prepared me for this moment. I was in sheer denial the whole time, waiting for the catch. I thought it was going to be a fake-out like the one in the Christmas special, or just the villain surrendering for the episode. I was fully ready for a twist. Only to realize that this WAS the twist. They pushed themselves into a corner they can't back out of.

Paisly Paver, is one of the good guys now.

Now, here's the question on everybody's minds? Is this change permanent? I mean, despite Wild Kratts's strong continuity, they do hit the reset button a lot when it comes to some things. Well, in an article by Martin Kratt, he says in a non-spoilery way,

“There is a surprise at the end of the special. I can't tell you too much. But there's a really interesting twist that happens with one of the show's villains in Our Blue and Green World that will change that villain’s arc for the rest of the series.”

....which means that this isn't a fluke or an April Fools' joke (which a few people, myself included initially thought). This is an honest to god change for the show.

How do I feel about it? Well... on one level, I think it could've been done really better. Like, give Paisley more appearances of her as a villain. That way we get used to her being one of the status quo villains. I took count. She has only appeared in 6 episodes of the show, half of which were solo appearances, the other half were team-ups with the villains. That's... weirdly enough far too few appearances for us to treat her as one of our main villains. The writers do seem to understand that making a villain too villainous for too long has the risk of their character crossing the moral event horizon which would shoot themselves in the foot if they ever thought about redeeming such a character. However, on the other side of things, we at least need to recognize our villain as a villain for a redemption to not be jarring, so the underutilization of Paisley brings this down.

Additionally, there's the absence of Rex and the implication it has. He's for some reason not there during Paisley's redemption and has very little to do with the creation of "Blue and Green World" at the end. Does that imply that he is still a villain? That he's not gonna get redeemed? Beyond Dabio, he’s the only villain I would’ve actually expected to get a redemption arc. Paisley and Rex have some of the healthiest relationships out of all the villains, arguably all of the characters. I don’t like the idea that Paisley will just abandon Rex and their entire business in favor of the enemy and this resulting in him them having to fight or worse - him potentially being written off the show. In a future episode that continues to delve into Paisley’s heel-face, turn, they need to resolve the loose ends in regards to that dynamic.

Also, still bummed that my Donita x Paisley ship has gone down the drain along with any chance of them teaming up. Again, if they were going to redeem her, they could’ve at least done that as one final hurrah for the character before doing it. At best, we’ll probably see an episode of them facing off which will remedy the blow a little bit.

But, with all things said and done, the execution is still okay. The way they give Paisley a heel-face turn doesn’t seem all that forced and her first incentive is to do the exact opposite of what she set out to do. Build, to help animals, not harm them. And the set-up they do is pretty clever. She’s less outwardly shitty about it as Zach is, she grills him sometimes, and the purpose of the “rock” scene comes very much into play, tying the plot together in a neat little bow.

And again, the fact that they had the balls to do this and to follow through on it, earns a lot of my respect.

I get that it’s standard for villain redemptions to come with a wardrobe change but this is ridiculous. The colors do not match AT. ALL. I really hope they don’t make this her permanent look, or make Rex’s new wardrobe change anything like this (if he gets one).

Wait... so are they narrating or talking directly to the audience? It feels like I'm watching an episode of Go Diego Go lmao.

I was going to question how the fuck Blue and Green World was allowed to be authorized and made, especially with Paisley's track record, but then I remembered that the Kratts own a goddamn flying turtle and other inventory and shit. Getting the funds for this must have been the equivalent of purchasing glasses for the eclipse!

Tumblr will not let me upload anymore images so some notes:

Some Wild Kratts kids from the earlier seasons! Obviously we can't hear them speak because their VAs are grown up now but it's still nice seeing them again.

Ignoring how allowing a bunch of kids to fully interact with wildlife without major adult supervision can go hilariously wrong here, (gotta suspend my disbelief), this is such a great way of showing how construction can be done without going at the expense of wildlife or sacred places in general. It's a message that I think should be pushed way more!

An instrumental reprise of the musical number without any singing!! Glory be!!!

The closer involves whale tagging. Very exciting.

CONCLUSION:

CONS:

Paisley's redemption missing a few fundamental details (INCLUDING REX BEING THERE WHAT THE FUCK).

The lack of a climax. Like, the trailers hyped it up as this big special and the climax is not a big battle but just one villain saying "nope, no more" and another just fucking off. Maybe it's to subvert our expectations but you could've worked around this!

Paisley's wardrobe change.

Aviva once again having to be dumbed down for the sake of the plot... *sigh.*

PROS:

It still felt big. It felt like a bigger episode with bigger stakes [sorta] and bigger characterization than your regular episode. I'm of the opinion that S7 is the most experimental of the lot so far, because they spent 2 years working out their scripts and animations, and they knew that a section of the fanbase would be waiting so they decided to play by their strengths, but take more risks with it, do things outside of the show's comfort zone to lead it to new heights. It's "out there." This episode is a perfect example of that and for as many times as it misses, it also hits too. I like the animals, I like the suits, the animation, the themes, the morals, the writing, the characters, the settings, the education. On some level, it's everything I've been expecting for in S7.

They definitely raised the bar this season with this special. I'd argue that it's one of the best episodes of the season so far, one of the best two-parters and arguably the best episode of the series. Now that isn't a final verdict, there are several others I like far more, but I would call this the most respectable well-conceived story of the show, and it raised my expectations here. Initially I was worried this episode would potentially lead to the show's downfall but after analyzing it, I think I see good things for Wild Kratts from here on out.

Final Ranking: 8.9/10.

Wild Kratts - Our Blue and Green World: Part 1: Review [Spoilers]

Welp, here it is, the Wild Kratts TV movie (not to be confused with the feature film they've been teasing us with since 2021). There's been a lot of hype around this special and season, especially with how much the latter was being hyped up during the hiatus. Let's see if the blue and green bros were able to deliver: Spoilers under the cut

Well, this is certainly an attention grabber!

This entire live action intro is shot and edited like an animated Wild Kratts episode, it's glorious.

Woah, intro change!

They said the thing! They said the thing!

HELP THIS IS SO RELATABLE. Also, THE BOYS ARE FIGHTING

Lmao I don't think they do it very often, but using animals/nature in their insults is very creative.

Also, whooping crane episode when?

This entire song is mercifully short. Like most character sung songs in Wild Kratts, it's not good, but this at least is clever in its lyrics and its visuals. It feels like a Disney reference at best and I am content with that. I also ADORED seeing the Draco and Walrus Suit return again. It's arguably the best musical number in the series. No, that is not saying a lot.

MARTIN WHY ARE YOU THE ONE WHO'S MIFFED YOU NEARLY MUFASA'D YOUR LITTLE BROTHER

CHRIS WHY ARE YOU MILDLY INCONVENIENCED YOU GOT ACRAPHOBIA FALLING FROM THAT HEIGHT

When I first saw the clip, I thought that they were going somewhere with this, like they'd activate Peacock Powers at the end when they recognized the compatibility and blue and green. But nope. Wasted potential is an understatement.

Also, where the fuck are they right now? In a previous shot there was Target the Chameleon, implying that they've been to Madagascar, but that is an Indian peafowl, and as far as I'm concerned, they don't live in Madagascar. Were they just having an off-day? These animals have little to nothing to do with the plot when they really shouldn't have, so I don't see why they couldn't have just shown a projector image or something.

Remember when I joked about the Wild Pony Power Suit returning in S7.... fuck you Apollo.

Man, they are eating it up with the animation here. It's hard to tell with screengrabs but man, is it fluid.

The first half of this episode is mixed. While it feels like the brothers are incredibly stubborn, it also does make sense for them to be this fixated on their favorites. So I can totally buy this. It could've been insufferable to watch, but it wasn't.

As if YOU haven't spied on them since the first time your dorito-headed ass showed up on screen

Did you find that funny? Because not only do they do a similar joke like that later on, but they follow through on that joke in the most unexpected way you will shit your pants when you first ingest it.

Oh my god if they make a Creature Power Suit off of that bird, I will take back any diss I've made, that is so beautiful.

Good to know that Aviva put the button near the chest and not near the back.

Maybe it's just me but this is kinda pushing it. Chris is literally getting his organs crushed, I think that should matter more than A) being right or B) trying to get 2 people to stop fighting.

I'm loving the callback and what this leads up to but ew, all this does is remind me about how ugly bright the color pallatte in S6. Really glad they fixed it in S7.

HELL FUCKING YES

This episode finds really unique ways of showing how the two different biomes are interconnected. It's like Rainforest Stew's (very brilliantly handled) message only to a larger degree. Kids can learn a lot from this.

I fucking love this episode, man.

Honestly, the way they write Paisley in the first half of the episode is very in-line with her character. Most shows that do what this episode does has them be out-of-character as a set-up, but here, she's just roasting the fuck out of Zach. Once again, recontextualized entirely in the climax.

HOW THE FUCK DID HE GET TO MADAGASCAR FROM THE GODDAMN AMAZON IN ONE AFTERNOON THAT IS LIKE MORE THAN 1,000 MILES AWAY?? ARE ANACONDAS THAT FAST?????

Also, INDRIS!!!!! :D

I was frankly expecting this to horribly backfire but spoilers, it doesn't. This actually winds up working. Common Aviva W.

To be continued.... will the blue and green rivalry end? Will one prove superior over another? And will they be able to stop Zach and Paisley and save the planet earth? And will this change the adventures of the Wild Kratts team forever? Stay tuned for part 2!

Pros:

The live action segments.

The animation of the earth's model.

The musical number not being ass.

Paisely's catty behavior.

The Anaconda Suit.

The inventive ways they show how the stability of the Earth is complex. There are a lot of ways it functions and thus a lot of ways it needs to survive

The comedy.

Cons:

The villains do not do anything until the second half of this episode. In fact, they're left completely in the backdrop. I expected them to make their prescence known and for Aviva to invent the discs to get them together for the SAKE of fighting the villains. But no. It makes the stakes feel hollow, which is the opposite of what they should be gunning for in an hour long special that they hype the shit out of.

CONCLUSION:

It was an "okay" set-up. It did live up to some of the hype it had, but not all of it. Honestly if it wasn't for the second half of this episode, this movie would be mediocre or slightly above average, but no. They do pick themselves off the ground and... they do jump the shark. But we'll get to that next time

[gerbiloftriumph]

The Silence Between Snowflakes

(also on ao3) ~ 5/8 - Snowbound

~*~*~

Alexander thought he had lost Rosella somewhere behind him as he raced through the twisting corridors.

He had quickly uncovered most of Daventry castle’s secrets. Abandoned secret passages filled with dust and cobwebs that made him stifle sneezes. Alcoves long ignored behind ancient tapestries that overlooked odd little abandoned gardens. Closets stuffed to the hinges with cleaning supplies, torches, blankets, pillows, and the other sorts of things the guards needed to keep the castle suitable for royalty. It was almost possible for Alexander to make it from one side of the castle to the other without ever setting foot on the rich red carpet that covered most of it. Rosella wasn’t supposed to be able to track him through it.

Except, she did.

He had shoved himself into one of the forgotten alcoves, knees drawn up to his chin, watching snow fall beyond the dusty window, when she chirped from the other side of the tapestry, “You might think you know this castle well, but you forget: I grew up here. I know things about it you’ll need two decades to find.” She squeezed next to him. “Ohh, it’s cold.”

“It’s my fault,” he whispered, watching the guards trooping through the snow, the red and blue flashes of their uniforms striking against the endless white road. His warm breath fogged the frozen glass, turning them into colorful little blurs that faded out of sight around a snowbank.

“What is? Scoot over,” Rosella said, all elbows and knees and trying to find a comfortable place to sit without jabbing him—the alcove was too small for one person, much less two.

Alexander twisted his hands in his scarf. Rosella traced patterns in the frosted window with her fingertip.

She was better at getting reluctant courtiers to talk than Alexander knew, even if her means were a little less refined than Graham’s gentle coaxing. The expectant silence she radiated was more uncomfortable than being squished into this alcove. Alexander made himself start talking to fill some of the weird wariness.

“When Roberta…Number Three,” he corrected himself, “came in to tell us what she saw….” He took a deep breath, not wanting to admit this next part but knowing it would help. “When I lived with him, I could tell what he was feeling most of the time. It was the only thing that stopped me getting…um. Hurt. But. She was so afraid, even more than she was letting on. I think…she was worried she was going to get fired for not doing more, not getting rid of the problem like a guard should. And I…I don't want her to feel helpless. I wanted to see if I could do something to help her.

“I knew there was magic out there. I could feel it. Even last night, I sensed it was coming. Living with him, I got used to the taste of it. It’s like…it’s like hearing bells in another room, or like feeling dust in the air, but dust like the sugar dust in the Fey’s shop. Not a bad thing, even when he was doing it. And I thought, if I didn’t hide this time, if I went to see the castle with her, maybe I could help. I don’t want anyone to be upset anymore. I’m tired of being useless. I want...I want them to be happy.

“But when we got to the gate, everything felt wrong. Like there was this greasy stain over the whole castle. And I didn’t pay any attention to what Gra—Dad was doing, and he touched it, and the roses, and I should have stopped him, and I didn’t, and now this is happening. It’s my fault.”

It felt like the most he’d ever said at once in his life, and he sank deeper into himself, not at all sure he’d said anything right.

Rosella kept tracing circles in the frost, ice gathering under her fingernail. It was almost like she could do magic herself the way she could drag words out of people just by sitting there. He watched, wondering what it felt like for ice to spread up your hand. The others might not have noticed, but he had. The warmth of the fireplace and everything had probably slowed it down, but it was definitely moving. Graham had tugged down his sleeve at some point, so Alexander wasn’t sure how far along it was by now. What would happen when it reached his lungs, his heart?

“First, you couldn’t stop Dad from marching right up to those gates even if you tried,” Rosella said dismissively when she decided he wasn’t going to say anything else. “You saw Number One try, and they’ve known each other since the day Dad came to Daventry. So, quit thinking that. But that’s not important. If you can sense it, is there anything you can do to stop it?”

“I’m not sure,” Alexander said. “I know…a few things.” He shifted, evasive. “Maybe.”

“What does that mean?”

“It means I…I don’t want to make it worse.”

“At this point,” she pointed out, “it might not be able to get much worse.”

“I could make it permanent.”

“It seems pretty permanent now.”

“That’s true.” He sat silently. Then, anxiously, worried about making her worry: “Did you see it spreading?”

“I did. And I saw him shivering. He’s hiding it, but you can see it hurts. What do you know about ice magic?”

“It’s not just magic,” he said. “It’s more like a curse. That greasy, sticky feeling. There’s something extra to it.”

She looked flustered by her own helplessness. This wasn’t something she could fight her way through. He thought about how she played Battle of Wits, how she always went for direct attacks and never around the board. “Why can’t I feel it?”

“You might not have been around magic enough to notice.” He’d grown up immersed in it, breathing it in, like glittery dust lining his lungs.

“Do you know how to lift a curse?”

“I don’t know.” His shoulders drooped and he stared at his fingertips.

Rosella, though, stumbled (fell, more like) out of the alcove and reached back to help pull him out, too. “That’s better than a no. Come on, let’s go back to the sitting room. At the very least you can have a look at it and see. I bet you know more than you think you know.”

But when they got to the sitting room, they paused. Valanice was pacing an otherwise empty room, clutching a tray with a teapot on it in her hands and fretfully muttering under her breath. She glanced up, and her face was ashen. “Where’s your father?” she asked.

“Isn’t he here?”

“No, he...” her face crumpled, and her eyes darkened with realization. “I’m going to kill him. He wouldn’t.”

“He would,” Rosella said.

“Would what?” Alexander asked.

“Go back to the castle,” Rosella said. “It’s Dad. Of course he would.”  

“I’m going to kill him,” Valanice repeated, slamming the tray on the table. The teapot rattled.

“He’s going to freeze,” Alexander breathed, barely audible.

Valanice heard him anyway and gestured dismissively. “I’m sure he’s got his cloak.”

“No, the ice. It’s spreading up his arm. Didn’t you notice?” Rosella said.

That drew Valanice up short, and she looked at her daughter with a perfectly unreadable, blank expression, something she’d honed in her role as queen dealing with unpleasant news. For Rosella, that look was as good as a scream: she knew exactly what it meant, and she almost flinched.

“Alexander and I noticed. It’s slow, but I saw it. I don’t know how much time he’s got if he’s gone to a place made of actual ice. We were...I mean, Alexander kinda knows a little magic. A bit. He might be able to do something.”

That, too, took Valanice aback, and she glanced sideways at her son with an appraising eye. Alexander squirmed beneath her gaze. “A bit of magic,” she said, thoughtfully. “Well then. Get your gloves on, find a warm hat. Let’s go.”

“Go? To the castle? Really?”  Rosella’s eagerness was tempered with surprise. “You...want us all to go? Just walk right up to the castle?”

“I’m not going to let my kids go there by themselves. What kind of mother would I be? I know you’re going to head down there the moment I turn my back, and I’m not going to sit around here wondering what’s happening to him.” She picked up a heavy woolen cloak and twirled it over her shoulders, a match to Graham’s but in her favorite color. “And anyway, he and Number One are probably both staring at a wall of ice, completely unable to get in. Now, what did I say about gloves? Shoo, go on, get them on.”

~*~*~*~

The gates were open.

Yawning, silent, open. Blue ice glittered, beckoning Graham forward. He lingered just outside the tunnel that led under the portico into the courtyard, wary of stepping forward, sure the gates would slam behind him and leave him trapped. Nothing within moved, nothing indicated the gates even could close. They seemed frozen into place, as immovable as a mountain.

But they had seemed that way yesterday when they were shut, too.

His icy fingers would no longer bend, and his wrist was starting to lock up now. The chill was well into his shoulder, and he couldn’t stop shivering despite his warm cloak and thick gloves. He drew in a deep breath, tasting the frost in the air, and, back straight, walked forward with as much confidence as a king.

The entrance was cold, but not nearly as cold as he’d expected. The exterior walls were so much colder than the interior, like it was leeching heat from its surroundings and hoarding it inside. He passed the guard house (empty), and he glanced a little nervously at the grates in the entrance tunnel’s ceiling, in case they did have some defenses ready to pour down on intruders—although to be fair, burning oil would probably chill back to regular oil before hitting him. He entered without incident.

The courtyard was smaller than he would have anticipated, but that was because it was crammed absolutely full with dozens of small buildings, much more than a functioning castle needed. Duplicate stables, barracks, keeps, kennels, aviaries, greenhouses, all with different designs. All the doors were blocked off with snow mounds and icicles thick as dungeon cell bars, proving that no one used those buildings.

The most impressive thing, and the building that seemed most likely to be occupied, was the central keep with the spindly tower stabbing into the skies from its exact middle. He walked around lamp posts of all different varieties, past snow coated benches and bushes, to approach what seemed like the main door. Like the gates, this door seemed frozen open. Snowflakes blew inside, covering what little of the entrance hall he could see.

He had definitely beaten the royal guards here. The courtyard was entirely unmarred by footprints other than his own lone trail. That was for the best—if Number One caught him here, Graham would catch quite the earful, king or no.

He hastened inside, cloak snagging on the door frame. Before him spread a cavernous room, as icy and clear as he’d imagined it. Huge reflective pillars soared upward. Alcoves, which would normally hold things like suits of armor or busts of nobility, were empty, but numerous. Graceful tapestries were frozen into place across them. The floor was checkered with large tiles in different shades of blue, and a little way inside, a snow-white carpet trailed off into the darker shadows of the hall before meeting an impressive staircase that swirled around and up, an impossible structure that promised more fascinating delights deeper inside.

With all the snow piled up within the door frame, his weight almost didn’t trip the pressure plate trap set up along the door. Almost. He didn’t feel his heel pressing down against one of the tiles as he walked, couldn’t hear the bell that started ringing in the depths of the castle, didn’t sense the crackle and snap of ice as figures stiffened, distracted from their original tasks, and started moving toward the courtyard.

He did notice the second trap tile, though—mostly because this one opened up a slide beneath his boots and sent him careening into a labyrinth of frosty rooms and tunnels beneath the castle. The tile slid back into place, the heavy ice perfectly silencing his startled yelp. Another, different bell started jangling elsewhere in the palace, interrupting teatime. The queen set down her cup and watched the chiming bell, the cat at her side flicking its long black tail.

~*~*~*~

Royal Guard Number One was already shivering. He and the rest of the guards were bundled up, but even with all the quilted padding and scarves and gloves and earmuffs-under-helmets and everything, he still felt the chill ache in his bones. But when he considered Graham’s frozen hand and how miserable that must be, he walked faster. He was determined to fix this. He would march right up to those gates and knock them down if he had to. He would find a cure for his king. He had to. Failure was not an option.

He didn’t have to knock anything down, though. The gates were open. Practically inviting the Daventry troop forward.

“That’s. Different than it was. Should we go in?” No2 asked. His voice was oddly hollow sounding, echoing off the castle walls.

“Something’s here,” No3 muttered. She nodded at the set of footprints leading inside.

“Stay in line. Move forward,” No1 said through teeth gritted to stop them chattering. The little group of colorful guards spread out inside the courtyard, looking around with wary curiosity, checking every corner for foes. Hands rested on sword hilts, ready to attack—but there was no one here. The courtyard was entirely still. No sign of any life. Their footsteps made soft crunching noises, but other than that and the gentle whisk of the wind twirling among the banks, the courtyard was silent.

And absolutely crammed with a ridiculous variety of structures of every shape and type. Whoever had planned this layout had definitely been at the mead too hard, and No1 should like to have a word with the castle steward about this mess. It was almost overwhelming to consider how much stuff was here, frozen in haphazard places. Benches, lampposts, fountains crammed between unnecessary buildings of every make and type—all coated in snow and ice.

No1 took a deep breath, held it, and let it out in a rush, an old, favorite way to maintain his poise. His breath fogged in front of him; impossible to hide his little calming trick in this weather. But when the cloud faded and his vision was clear, the courtyard was not the same as it had been. Not at all.

He found himself face to face with himself. Well. Sort of himself. It looked like a royal guard of Daventry, the same uniform and everything, but mangled, abstract. A sculpture done in ice, wacky and wild. It was taller than he was, and the feather part of the helmet crooked out at a ridiculous angle. He glanced behind him and saw more of the sculptures standing around his men. They’d just appeared. At least, it felt like they had.

He probably simply hadn’t seen them. They were practically translucent, a purest sort of ice. It was a trick of the light, a trick of the angle he was standing at, that had hidden them from view. And the courtyard was so crammed with other things, he just hadn’t noticed these particular statues among the rest of the chaos. Which was admittedly odd, since there were at least two dozen of them standing all around at first glance, if not more....

No one else had noticed them before this moment, either, it seemed, and all were surprised. Numbers Two and Three were now pressed against each other, trying to take up as little space as possible while still standing in about the same place—four or five sculptures seemed to be hemming them in. No4 was standing a little distance from them, not slouching for once but stiff as a tree. Larry squeaked and leapt into Kyle’s arms, and they stumbled back a pace from one of the sculptures posed as though it was reaching for them. Everyone was shivering, staring, baffled.

No one had gone for their swords—they were frozen sculptures, not enemies, after all. The team had merely been startled, and looked sheepish for being frightened for no decent reason.

No1 made to step around the sculpture in front of him, and it stepped with him.

It mirrored his movement perfectly. Its steps were silent. His hand instinctively reached for his sword hilt. The ice sculpture did the same, with the reverse hand, exactly like a reflection. He eased his hand back, and he watched his reflection mimic him. At his side, behind him, he thought he detected more movement. More sculptures. Circling and trapping him. Stars.

“Ah. I suspect you weren’t here a moment ago, were you?” he asked, quietly, careful not to goad the thing into attacking his men if he could avoid it. The sheer number of their foes was well beyond anything his team, well trained as they were, could handle. It was a pointless question. He already knew the answer. It hadn’t been a trick of the light hiding them—these sculptures had marched into place, alerted to the Daventry guards’ presence by something. Their blank visages were grim.

The ice guard cocked its head, and then it seemed to repeat the same question back at No1, the same intonation, but apparently in reverse. Alive, cognizant, and, No1 was absolutely, breathtakingly, certain, dangerous.

“Swords!” No1 yelled, whipping out his weapon. Didn’t matter how futile this was. They had to try. Around him, he heard the rasping metal sounds that indicated his men had obeyed. “As you will!”

But as he drew back for a slashing cut, to bring the ice creature down, something struck the back of his helmet, making his ears ring, and while he was momentarily distracted, freezing hands tighter than manacles grabbed his wrists, his arms, his legs, his shoulders, and he struck out desperately, but he was seeing double and his sword caught a bad angle, rebounding uselessly off the ice, and something heavy crashed down over his helmet, and everything went dark.

~*~*~*~

Even from a distance, Valanice could see that the castle gates were open, and that no one, not her husband, not the royal guards, not even someone belonging to the ice castle itself, was around. Her children trailed after her, and she wondered if she’d made a mistake. She should have asked the Feys to babysit them—never mind that Alexander and Rosella were almost eighteen. The two of them would probably rush off, stubborn as their father, to go have an adventure without someone watching them. Even the bubbly Feys could bring out their protective parent sides if asked. They’d done such a good job raising Taylor after all.

Too late now. She didn’t feel comfortable sending her kids back alone, if they would even listen to her in the first place. Both her husband and the whole team of guards were missing, and that likely meant something nasty was underfoot.

Speaking of underfoot: the courtyard’s snow was a tumultuous mess. It was impossible to determine anything in the mire. She couldn’t verify, in that tangle of tracks, if Graham or the guards had even been here or if they’d been waylaid on the road. But that, too, made her pause. The castle dripped loneliness like melting icicles, so who had made these tracks if not the Daventry folk? And if they had been here, where were they now? They hadn’t had that much of a head start, perhaps no more than twenty minutes, and Valanice and her family had been moving fast.

And why did the snow look so overturned? It looked like they’d been in a fight. But there was no one here. There simply hadn’t been time.

Rosella made a strange sound in the back of her throat and lunged for something half buried in the snow. Alexander drew up next to her, and they both stared, crestfallen, at the bright red feather that had clearly been yanked from one of the royal guards’ uniform helmets.

That proved matters simply enough. Valanice’s hands curled into fists, but that was the only sign she let herself show in front of her children. “I want you to go back to the castle,” she told them, in a sharp voice that left no room for argument, the voice of a queen. “Now. I want you to send a message to the villagers once you’re home. I want everyone to come to the castle, immediately, and I want the gates barred the moment the last villager is safe.”

But when they turned, they found the ice gates barred themselves, entirely frozen over, like they’d never been open in the first place. As immovable as the Daventry castle foundation. Valanice felt a shiver of fear dance along her spine (though, again, she showed none of her uncertainty).

Alexander’s eyes were half closed. He was glaring at the gate, muttering under his breath. “Not the curse,” he said, slowly. “That one’s ordinary magic. It’s dusty, can you feel it?”

“Can you reopen it?”

“Um. I’m not. I don’t know. Maybe? It...it’s strong.”

Valanice smiled, tried to set him at ease. “I have a feeling you’re stronger than you’re letting yourself believe.”

They coaxed him toward the gates. His boots slid haphazardly over the trampled snow, and he stood in front of the icy walls, concentrating hard.

Far, far above them, beyond the royal family’s sight, someone watched. And someone smiled, a cold, sharp, wicked smile, with rather more pointed teeth than a smile normally had.

The traps were all springing closed faster than expected, even with the day’s delay he’d needed to recover after encouraging the castle to come here. He wasn’t sure whom the ice labyrinth had caught (he hadn’t yet gotten a report) but whoever it was, he was sure he could use them as leverage against dopey Graham. The man loved his citizens to a fault. He’d planned on using whoever it was as a bargaining chip: trade them, possibly with all fingers and toes intact if he was in a good mood, for the crown prince.

The ice guards had been notified by the bell at the entrance hall. They had been coming up to check on the labyrinth to see if the interloper was suitably valuable for trading. But they had been distracted by the appearance of a whole pack of Daventry royal guards nosing their way into the courtyard. He’d stood at the tower window gleefully watching the ice guards surround the hapless royal guards and pick them off one by one, starting with that annoying Number One, and dragging them all away. Daventry's security was pathetic. It was a marvel the place was still standing. The royal guards should be ashamed.

Once they were done locking up the guards, the ice troop was going to come back and check on the labyrinth captive. But, suddenly, Manannan decided that whoever it was probably wasn’t important enough to worry about at the moment.

Not when the boy had strolled in of his own volition.

With Queen Valanice and Princess Rosella, even. It was enough to make him purr with delight. This was just too delicious, too lucky, too easy.

He’d shut the gates behind them almost as soon as they’d entered, practically vibrating with the urgency of holding the family inside before they turned around and left. For a moment he thought he’d timed it wrong, thought the boy had noticed the magic as it was cast and might be able to do something about it in the process. But Rosella had satisfactorily distracted them by finding something in the snow.

Tragically, the ice guards were a little too busy taking care of the royal guards to attend to the family. One of the various traps in the entrance hall would have to suffice. He even had a lever that he could pull to drop them straight into a single icy cell, and the more he thought about it, the more eager he was to use it. He wouldn’t have to scour the labyrinth but could simply pluck Gwydion out of his cushy life and make him undo this awful curse.

He padded lightly into the depths of the tower, scheming. The things he could do with all three royal family members in his claws.

Meanwhile, below, Alexander stepped back, breathing raggedly. “I can’t,” he whispered. “I don’t...it’s so strong. I don’t know how to open it. I don’t know the words. I don’t know how. I’m sorry.”

Valanice reached out and gently touched her son’s shoulder, and he flinched away. “Don’t fret, Alexander. Your father and the guards are here, and they probably need our help. We shall simply have to find them together, and then sort out an escape after that. We shall be fine—the Cracker family always is. All right?”

He nodded almost imperceptibly, looking guiltier than ever, like he could sense her unease.

“But we shall have to stick very close together,” she said. “No wandering off, right, Rosella?” The last two words were pointed.

“Right, Mom.” Rosella bounced on her heels, face upturned to study the tower, not actually listening. “We should hurry.”

“No, we should take this slowly and carefully,” Valanice decided. “Haste is what got your father into this trouble in the first place. Come along, let’s go inside. That wind is biting. And then I shall decide what to do next.”

As they came upon the entrance hall, Valanice, looking for trouble, drew back. She caught her children by the arms to make them wait. Little shreds of red thread were snagged on the icy door frame, easy to spot against the blue. Graham’s cloak. He had made it inside under his own power, she was certain—and her thoughts were confirmed when she found a few of his footprints, blurry but visible and alone, in the snow piled up beyond the door. But then...nothing. The snow petered out, the hall made of hard tiles that revealed nothing.

“Alexander, do you...” she hesitated, not sure of the right word. Feel? Taste? See? “Is there any magic here?”

“Lots,” he whispered. “It’s almost hard to breathe.”

“Can you tell where it’s coming from?”

“Everything’s made of it. But there’s this layer of…something on top? It feels like Gr—Dad’s arm. Sort of greasy. It’s hard to know what’s underneath it, but I think…we should be careful where we walk. The first couple tiles don’t, uh, feel safe.”

“And the rest?”

He shrugged helplessly. “Some are bad, some are good. If we can get to the carpet, we should be fine for a while.”

“Stay close together,” Valanice said, and stepped carefully over the tile where the snow abruptly ended (and Graham’s footprints vanished with the snow—she wondered about that). “Alexander, lead the way, if you please. We’ll see where those stairs take us.”

Alexander stepped ahead of his mother, Rosella at his side as they had promised.

In the tower, Manannan kicked back a lever.

A locking mechanism, entirely unmagical and entirely unnoticeable, clicked open. The floor began to shift.

Valanice saw Alexander and Rosella start to fall as the floor slid away to nothing beneath them. She lunged, slamming her hands against their backs and sending them flying forward. Rosella lost her balance and skidded across the floor face first, and landed solidly on one of the tiles Alexander had warned them about, which opened and sent her deep into the castle. It was a little hard to tell if her screams were of terror or excitement, but they cut off as the tile slid back into place behind her. Alexander fell hard, spinning in circles around and around and around. He saw Valanice drop into the pit that had almost claimed him and his sister, and he tried to scramble to his feet and reach her, but his momentum carried him to a different tile and he, too, disappeared into the castle depths with a cut-off yelp.

~*~*~*~

The slides had been Manny’s idea. He didn’t have the magic to carve and bespell them himself anymore, but the lady of the castle had been more than willing to oblige once he’d praised her strength and cunning and ability. He’d been bored and frustrated for numerous reasons, and she had been eager to please. The slides went all over the castle’s underbelly.

Some dropped people into a frozen labyrinth of spiraling rooms with no exit. Some didn’t bother with the tormenting labyrinth but simply dropped people soundly in the dungeon. Not as many, though: the labyrinth, a pre-existing feature of the castle composed of rooms as numerous and varied as the buildings in the courtyard, was tricky and confusing and uncomfortable, and he rather enjoyed leaving people to stumble around it helplessly for a long while before hauling them out. One or two of the slides led to pitch black ice pockets with no way out until one of the ice guards retrieved the captive or left them there to freeze (he’d been in a particularly devious mood that day).

And one spat people outside in a snowbank, although that one was near the stairs and mostly existed to annoy Mordack, who sometimes didn’t pay attention to exactly which tile he was stepping on when he descended the steps.

Mordack was the one who had learned of this traveling castle, the strange icy palace that left silence in its wake as it drifted with the winds. Mordack had sleuthed out its whereabouts, had helped lead Manannan, cursed and humiliated, to its gates. Manannan had found wheedling his way into the castle’s good graces a snap.

Everyone else she had met in her travels had demanded that the queen take her castle and leave. Threatened her, were rude and angry to her, and made her angry in kind. No one else had asked her if they could stay.

She was incredibly lonely…and incredibly easy to exploit. The castle had been his in less than a week.

A promise here, a smile there, a compliment every once in a while, and the castle and its ice servants were his to command. He promised to increase its strength, to magnify its storms tenfold. To protect the queen from invaders who would love nothing more than to destroy her for being different, as he himself in his current shape was different. Comparing the two of them had been a stroke of brilliance, he thought. Made her much more susceptible to trusting him as an equal outsider, not knowing he planned on dropping her off a cliff the moment he had his own magic back.

Still, once he was in charge, he wasted no time at all in guiding it to its new destination in Daventry proper (even if it was the slowest, most time- and power-consuming form of travel he could imagine, spreading its storms long before it even came close to the horizon).

Mordack could have complained about the snowbank slide, then, since he was the one who had helped his brother find this place. But Mordack was never one to complain about being the butt of a joke. At least a snowbank was softer than a goblin spear thumping across his shoulders. He still bore the scars to remind him of his abused years underground. He was careful to never complain in Manny’s presence about his treatment, about Gwydion’s treatment, about anything. Just in case Manny decided to send him back.

It took Manannan quite some time to navigate the ice castle, which was cavernous even on a human scale, much less his current cursed self. His stroll to the entrance hall was entirely unhurried. He knew how large the trap had been, and he was quite sure he had all three family members safe and sound. Best to let them shiver together and wonder. The anticipation was frequently more deliciously terrifying than the end result, he’d found.

He sauntered up to the pit, composing his fuzzy features into something suitably boastful. He gleefully called out, low and threatening, “Hello, hello, hell—” he stopped.

Valanice, and only Valanice, was standing at the bottom of the pit, arms crossed, tapping her boot and scowling up.

~*~*~*~

Standing at the bottom of an icy cell had not improved Valanice’s temper. She was already on edge, and with this she was positively fuming. She’d been standing here for ages. Her children could be anywhere by now, and her husband had definitely gotten himself into tremendous trouble, and she was stuck here waiting. The time for gentleness and politeness was long gone. She was more than ready to deliver a scathing attack to whoever deigned to look in on her.

But best laid plans began to melt away the moment she heard the voice. The voice that laced her nightmares. And the remnants of said plans shattered when she saw what was leaning over the edge of the pit, inhuman features distorting around a human voice. The face didn’t match her memories, but it didn’t matter. It was the voice that mattered.

Helpless, stumbling against the wall, spiraling back eighteen years ago, back to that horrible night. The sound of the green crackling magic banishing the final notes of Graham’s lullaby to their children, the pain of her wrists pinned behind her back, the aching loss that cursed her every step from that moment on, that moment when her son was stolen from her by this monster. At least the face was appropriately inhuman now, as he himself was inhumanly cruel.

Only her queenly respectability stopped her from swearing violently. “Manannan,” she snarled, as cold as her surroundings.

From behind Manannan, another voice spoke, and this one was all the more familiar, and all the worse for the strange icy echo behind it. It pressed deep into her heart, and she felt something splinter and break inside of her as she realized who else was in this castle, who else had been lost to Manny’s treachery.

All the different emotions, between hearing him and hearing her and losing Graham and her children and the guards and everything cut her knees, dropping her to the ice, startled and afraid and confused and lost.

From above, that oh so familiar voice said: “Did you catch another nice mouse, my dear friend? You do have so many traps. I wish we had not made quite so many, it does cause—oh. You are not a mouse.”

[astralaffairs]

Secret agent Laf invites Thomas over for a drink. He puts something in it, but after a few sips, he realizes he has the wrong cup. Lafayette ends up going to sleep on the couch and Thomas stays to make sure he's okay because that's what friends do.

i made a slight prompt edit for plot convenience and also bc if laf tries to kill thom at LAF'S own place there's no plausible deniability (smh don't yall know how to commit crimes???)

-----

"Hey, what can I get you a glass of?" Thomas glanced back to where Lafayette stood approaching his kitchen as he went to lock his own apartment door behind him. Lafayette shrugged.

"I brought a bottle of my own, mon amie. May I pour you a drink?" Thomas raised an eyebrow as he went to join Lafayette, and he pulled down two glasses for the both of them. "It only seems fair, given zat you 'ave been willing to 'ave me over for ze evening."

Thomas responded with a lopsided grin, saying, "Now, you're bein' just a bit too generous for my taste. What're you plottin'?"

Lafayette's laugh at his words was almost too natural, the amiable look in his eyes more calculated than warm, but Thomas was far too cheerful to notice. "By ze time you find out, it may already be too late."

"Now you're sure keepin' me on my toes." They shared an entertained glance as Lafayette withdrew a bottle of whiskey from his man-purse satchel. Thomas raised an eyebrow. "Really brought the good stuff, huh?"

"Only ze best for my gracious host."

"You spoil me." Thomas picked up one of the empty glasses to bring with him to the refrigerator, but he glanced back at Lafayette first. "You gonna want any ice?"

"And dilute ze taste of zis? You mock me, Thomas."

"Your funeral," he chuckled, bringing one of the glasses with him to the ice dispenser. "'S always better cold."

"I 'ave reason to believe I will survive." Lafayette's gaze flickered toward the hallway to Thomas's bedroom for only a moment, and he turned to him. "Is zere any chance zat you 'ave a phone charger zat I can borrow?"

"Oh, yeah, 'course." He turned back to Lafayette, leaving his glass half-full of ice on the counter beside the other. "'S back in my room; gimme a minute to go grab it."

Lafayette's smile was all but foreboding. "Please, take your time."

His eyes were trained on Thomas's retreating form until he disappeared around the corner into the hall, and without a moment of hesitation, he tucked a hand into the pocket of his jeans, withdrawing just two small, white pills. He'd decided to keep on the side of caution -- Thomas wasn't what you'd call a small person, and the odds of just one not quite doing the trick were far from nonexistent. Besides, as many hoops as he may have had to jump through to get just one pill in the states, with the amount of time he spent abroad, getting his hands on just a bit of rohypnol was no ordeal.

He uncapped the whiskey first, taking care to make sure the cups both had enough liquid for him to be able to dissolve the pills in Thomas's. The discrepancy may not necessarily have raised eyebrows, but he wasn't one to leave things to chance.

By then, Lafayette was feeling beyond smug. It may have taken him months to finally get to a point where Thomas was vulnerable enough to take out and make it look like an accident, but as he watched the small tablets begin to dissolve in the amber whiskey, giving the other man's glass a swirl, a small smile spread across his lips, and the ice settled atop the pills at the cup's base.

He reached back to the bottle of whiskey, about to cap it, but nearly knocked it over when he heard the door to the penthouse swing open behind him. He whirled around with wide eyes to see Y/N entering, nose buried in her phone as the door fell shut behind her.

"Hey, Thomas? You home? I know I should've called, but--" She cut herself off when she saw Lafayette standing in the kitchen, though she didn't comprehend the panic in his gaze, and the corners of her lips quirked. "Lafayette, hey, what are you doing here?"

"Oh! I... um... came to Thomas for advice," he said, his voice not even unsteady with the lie. He plastered on a smile with no hesitation. "I did not know zat you would be over."

"Yeah, I didn't tell Thomas I was coming. He gave me a key a couple weeks ago, so I figured it'd be fine to let myself in." She couldn't help but notice the apprehension in his tense shoulders, though, and she creased her brow. "I can go, though, if you--"

"Non, stay! I am sure 'e will not mind ze company."

"If he's not kicking me out, I'm staying." Lafayette couldn't help but sigh at how earnest the look in her eyes was as she approached him, curiosity growing in her smile. "You brought whiskey?"

She reached for the glass with ice as she shook off her jacket, and Lafayette inhaled sharply, pulling it away from her. "Oh! Oui... I did."

Her stare was beyond suspicious as she set her coat down onto the kitchen counter. "... Can I have some?"

"Of course, chérie. 'Ave zis." He moved the glass she'd tried to take as far from her as possible, instead sliding her the cup he'd poured for himself.

"Thanks." She took a sip, eyeing him dubiously, but she didn't question him further. She'd long since found that Lafayette had a number of weird ticks, after all the strange situations she'd run across him in over the past few years. Maybe he just really wanted the ice; who was she to judge? "Anyway, what's the occasion for the whiskey? Or is it just a gift for the host?"

She raised her eyebrows, taking another sip as he leaned against the counter. He wore a small smile as he shrugged. "I supposed it would be only right to bring something for Thomas, as he so graciously agreed to 'ave me over for a while."

"Mhm, and that's why you haven't even poured him a glass of whiskey?" His eyes widened as she joined him on his side of the counter, picking a third glass from Thomas's shelf and filling it with ice.

"I meant to! I was just... distracted, of course, when you came in," he said, and she laughed at the growing anxiety in his voice.

"Don't worry; I'm not gonna rat you out." His heart rate was beginning to pick up as she unscrewed the cap from the whiskey he'd brought over. "I'll get him a glass; your secret is safe with me."

He had to force a smile when Y/N sent him a playful wink, pouring out the drink into a third and final glass. "My savior," he said, and though there was jest in his tone, his voice was noticeably shaking. Y/N raised an eyebrow.

"You okay?"

"Oui, of course. I am just... tired. I 'ave not been getting enough sleep recently."

Yet again, she just nodded along, his snowballing lies not even giving her pause. "Yeah, I get that. That's how working in government is, right? Thomas complains to me about it all the time."

"What do I complain about?" Thomas re-emerged at that moment with a phone charger and an expectant stare, eyes darting from Y/N to Lafayette, and she grinned.

"Thomas, hey! Lafayette got you a drink." Before Lafayette could get even a syllable in, Y/N had met Thomas where he stood, handing him the glass she'd poured. Which left him with the final glass he'd poured, on the rocks and roofied. He swallowed hard, staring down into the depths of the glass, almost as though he could still see the just-dissolved rohypnol swirling alongside the ice. "We were just talking about how stressful both your jobs are. Lafayette's getting sleep-deprived."

"Oh, yeah?" Thomas frowned as he walked up to stand beside Y/N, a hand resting casually at her waist. "You should've come over earlier; don't wanna keep you up any later than you need to be."

"Nonsense. I would much rather spend zis time with ze both of you." Y/N let out a soft 'aw' at his words, leaning into Thomas's side as she took a sip of her drink. Lafayette eyed the pair of them tentatively, gaze growing more unsavory by the moment. "Although, I cannot say I was aware zat Y/N would be joining us."

Thomas raised an eyebrow, pulling back to look down at her curiously. "Yeah, I didn't know you were comin' over either. Somethin' up?"

Y/N just shrugged, breaking his gaze as her smile grew despite her best efforts to suppress it. "I just wanted to come spend time with you. Is that a crime?"

"'Course not, sweetheart. 'M always glad to see you." She rolled her eyes when he leaned down to kiss the top of her head, but there was no real annoyance behind her expression as heat rose in her neck. "Hope it doesn't bother you that she's here, though, Laf."

"Absolutely not. Y/N is always a welcome guest." The warmth in his stare as he looked down at her was as genuine as he'd been all evening, and she was all but beaming back at him as he absentmindedly took a sip of his drink.

Y/N let out a soft hum of appreciation. "The two of you are too good to me. Feel like I could show up in the middle of you robbing a bank and you'd still take me out to lunch after."

Thomas laughed, but Lafayette didn't exactly seem enamored with the analogy. "Sure, 'cause you'd pout all evenin' if we just ignored you there."

"Hey! I so would not!" she defended  shoving his side, and he squeezed the side of her hip with the hand still holding her to him.

"'Aw, Thomas, you got all that money from robbing that bank and you won't even take me out? Why don't you even care about me at all?" he mocked, the pitch of his voice rising an octave or two, and Y/N only huffed.

"See what I put up with, Laf?" she said, turning back to the other man with contrived annoyance in her frown. Lafayette cocked a brow.

"You know, if you are zat fed up with 'im, I am sure zat you would 'ave no problem finding other options." About all of his focus had shifted to Y/N and Thomas by then, how close they were standing, how nonchalantly intimate they were acting, and though his eyes shone with mirth, his jaw was set as he took another sip of his whiskey.

"Oh yeah?" She grinned. "Is that just a compliment or is it an offer? Because I'm pretty sure I heard both somewhere in there."

"Now what is wrong with ze idea of it being both?" He wiggled his eyebrows suggestively, and she bit her lip.

"Thomas, I hope you're hearing that you've got some competition, now." She prodded the man in question in the side, but he didn't seem all too ruffled by Lafayette's words. "Better start treating me right."

"Aw, 'cause I'm so bad to you now?"

"Exactly."

Thomas rolled his eyes, bringing his glass to his lips, and Lafayette pursed his lips.

"I am only joking. You must know zat I would never mean to come between ze two of you."

"We know, Laf. Don't worry." Y/N could see Lafayette's jaw soften at her demure smile, but she pursed her lips mischief in her eyes as she added. "But I know I wouldn't mind having you between us, if you catch my drift."

The wink that followed her words left Lafayette balking, almost unable to believe his ears, and Thomas chuckled. "You're trouble, huh, Sweetheart?"

"Only for you."

They both ignored Lafayette's wide eyes, how stunned he still looked as Thomas turned to address him. "Wanna come sit? Feel like I'm not bein' a great host, makin' you both stand here in my kitchen."

"Fine by me." Y/N answered for both of them, and when they sank into the couches in his living room, she lay with her head against Thomas's shoulder, just below where he'd extended one arm to rest along the back of the couch, and when Lafayette joined them just moment later, he raised a brow when her legs settled into his lap.

She grinned when she met his amused stare. "What? You don't mind, do you?"

He took another sip of his drink to hide the broadening smile he wore. "Of course not, chérie."

The night continued on just the same from there, the three of them chatting all-but mindlessly, interspersed with Y/N's less-than occasional jabs at Lafayette. He didn't seem to mind; though, that may have been a function of how tired he quickly seemed to be growing. Of course, both Y/N and Thomas empathized with him on it -- demanding careers weren't exactly few and far in between when it came to working in Washington, so it was only natural that his lack of rest had him out like a light.

They were almost surprised at how heavy a sleeper he was, though. Y/N and Thomas stayed laying around for nearly another hour, but when they moved, they tried to wake him up so he'd be able to go back across the hall to his own penthouse -- no such luck.

Y/N's conclusion was that it must've been because of how quickly he'd finished his drink. It was on ice, and all, but with whiskey that strong, the fatigue was slowly beginning to set into her limbs as well.

"Should we at least get him a blanket and a pillow?" Y/N stood leaning on the back of the couch. She and Thomas had finally managed to separate themselves from his couch cushions, and Thomas had just pulled Lafayette up so he was laying across it on his side. (Putting him on his back seemed like a recipe for disaster; he hadn't been anywhere past tipsy, but one could never be too careful. Waking up at 4 AM to give Lafayette the Heimlich as he choked on his own puke was neither of their idea of a good time.)

"Good thinkin', sweetheart." Thomas walked back around the couch to her, his arms wrapping around her waist from behind as she looked back at him with a smile. "You wanna get to sleep, too?"

She sighed, turning around in his grasp to face him. "Well, that wasn't quite what I had in mind when I came over, but I'm too tired for anything else by now."

Thomas's laugh was soft as he kissed her forehead, brushing a piece of hair from her cheek. "I kinda figured. Lemme get Lafayette set up, and I'll come to bed with you, okay?"

"Okay, T." The words were soft, almost slurred as fatigue ebbed into her voice, and she pulled him down to kiss her properly. "'S nice of you to take care of Laf like this. You're a good friend," she murmured against his lips, and he shrugged, wearing a soft smile.

"Hey, he'd do the same for me. Can't just leave him hangin'."

"Doesn't make it any less thoughtful." She loosened her arms where she'd wrapped them around the back of his neck, dropping back down from where she'd pushed herself onto her toes. "Join me in a few?" she asked, sliding out of his grasp and padding down the hall toward his bedroom.

"Of course, sweetheart." He eyed her as she left, his smile growing more and more mischievous with each step she took. "But if you're spendin' the night, you'd better not have anywhere to be in the mornin'."

"Oh, yeah?" She glanced back at him, eyes shining. "Are you planning to keep me busy?"

He winked. "Once I get Lafayette outta here, you're booked for the rest of the day."

[wbooker]

♪  austin abrams. cis man. twenty four. he/him. ♪  is WES BOOKER here again? gosh, they really love it here. they have been coming to reckless records for THREE YEARS. they’re always requesting HOME BY TOM ROSENTHAL to be played. everyone says they’re +INTELLIGENT and +THOUGHTFUL but can also be -PARANOID and -OBSESSIVE.  oh look, they’re in aisle 10!

ABOUT THE MUN. what is that! that freaky thing! yes, that’s right, it’s a naked mole rat.

hello all, it’s me. pepper. if you read that in a hello god it’s me margaret vc we are simply meant to be <3 but omg yeah i really was out here plottin for mika and completely forgetting booker exists skjsdk sorry king. you deserve better. anyways, down below will be a bit about the boi because i am too lazy for a google doc !! maybe we’ll make it later we’ll see. 

BIO.  *doesnt check my academic email* everythings OK

wesley booker was an accident. let’s not sugar coat things here. he was a big fat fuckin mistake. you see his parents were on their way to retirement when he came into the picture. all of their other children were grown up, some even with children of their own. and then booker and his twin sister showed up. they weren’t exactly thrilled about the whole thing. 

i mean, they weren’t dicks about it. they fed the twins and clothed them and gave them like basic love and all that. but they definitely didn’t put as much energy into the last two kids as they did into those before them. so booker and his sister pretty much were left to their own devices majority of the time. 

so the twins very quickly learned to entertain themselves. they had each other for company and that was fine. for the most part the twins were actually pretty codependent until they got a bit older and found themselves when more friends. but to this day they are still quite close. 

whenever their parents got tired of dealing with them they would send the twins over to their uncle robs shop. customers probably got pretty used to the two kids running around reckless screaming their heads off, and playing hide and seek excitedly through the aisles. they gave poor rob more grey hair than a man should ever have at that age, but hey, they gave the shop character. booker and his sister spent pretty much majority of their childhood at reckless to be honest. they went their after school so that rob could take them home once the shop closed up. they were there one weekends, when they parents didn’t particularly want to deal with them. and later, when at least booker became of age, he even worked there. 

booker worked front counter at reckless for all of his high school career. and honestly, he was good at it too. he had the kind of thoughtful, detail oriented personality that worked well in that kind of environment. he started working at reckless when he was fourteen, and by the time he was in his senior year he was even assistant manager. things were good. really good. while rob was more of a chill boss, relaxed boss, booker actually had the ability to keep things organized and keep majority of the store under control. things were actually running smoothly while he was there. his uncle got extra sleep. all the customers were happy. 

and then booker quit to go to university. and well. the place dissolved into the good old chaos it was before. honestly, booker finds the disposition kind of stressful, but mostly funny. his uncle begs him to come back at least once a week, but with booker now being in graduate school and working as a side gig as a teaching assistant and tutor, well, he simply doesn’t have the time. he comes by often enough though, just to laugh and his uncles woes and occasionally force him to take a nap as he organizes the books for him, maybe watches the place. 

but booker’s real focus at the moment is his masters in film. your boy wants to be a director, so you can often catch him waxing poetic about classic movies or looking like a zombie after his exams. 

HEADCANNONS. how do you deal with anxiety? i let it fuck me up and then i go to bed.

a responsible boi ! honestly booker has been a tiny adult since he was a child. when he was a child he looked a lot like little luke crain from haunting of hill house. now he has contact lenses. 

a huge nerd. loves movies and comic books and classical literature. really such a dweeb. very smart, and quite humble about it but also a damn nerd yk. 

has an old beat up pickup truck he drives everywhere that he mostly fixes with duct tape skjdsj it was his dads and he’s only keeping it because he can’t afford another one but god,,, we hate it here. 

a push over honestly. super kind. if you need anything just as him and he will probably give it to you. very skeptical and paranoid of people he doesn’t know quite well tho. the duality of man <3

your boi has anxiety <3 he do be stressed! you can probably catch him studying for his exams and such in the back because i feel like he just ??? stays above the record store a bunch because it’s closer to where his school is that his family home yk

has a film journal that he rates literally every film he sees in. also has a regular journal and lowkey writes poetry in his spare time but he would die if anyone read it. the type to fall for someone and write a lil poem about them in his journal yk!!

but yeah!! that’s my boi pls like this if you would like to plot !!

WANTED CONNECTIONS. might fuck around and read a 500 page physical published book in one sitting like it’s 2006 and I’m being bullied in middle school so I take refuge in the library and inhale books at a frightening speed that I have not been able to replicate since

best friends, old coworkers, old high school enemies, an academic rival maybe, his twin sister but i am gonna put that in as a wc, exes, fwb or ewbs, someone he can confide in, a study buddy, someone he sees/discusses movies with, and an opposites attract vibe maybe!

[pandawritespoorly]

With Time: Chapter 11 - OMMAM

Author’s Note: Yay! Updating! Actually, it'll be a double update today! Also, the title is pronounced like "oh ma'am", sounds like "oh man" if you're confused.

Reference slides for Claude's room here!

There are temperatures in this chapter. The show takes place in Paris, so they'll be Celsius, but as an American used to Fahrenheit, I've put the Fahrenheit equivalent in parentheses next to the Celsius.

Chapter Summary: Claude sets his scheme into action. They all check on a sick Marinette.

First | Previous | Next

The bell on the door rings as Claude enters the bakery. Not intending to buy anything, he passes the line and waits patiently for Tom to notice him.

“Hey son! You here for Marinette? She should be in her room, head on back!” 

Once in the back, Sabine stops him,”Claude! I wasn’t expecting you. Do you guys have plans today?” 

“Oh no, I just was in the area and I thought I should stop by! It’s always great to see a friend!” She didn’t really need to know of his scheme, at least not for now.

“That’s sweet of you dear. While you’re up there, could you ask Marinette if she’s eaten recently? Tom and I didn’t see her at all yesterday, and it looks like she didn’t touch any of the leftovers.” The short woman shakes her head fondly, “Sometimes that girl gets too wrapped up in her projects - forgets that she needs to eat.”

“Will do, ma’am!” Claude hurries up the stairs at his usual excited pace. He should probably let Allan know that Marinette forgot to eat often enough that it was considered a habit of hers. He would certainly be the one to go about correcting that. Not that he and the rest of them weren’t concerned with her health, but Allan is the mom friend for a reason.

Seeing Marinette’s trapdoor he goes over his goals in his head. The main goal is to set her up to be distracted or busy for the rest of the morning. It wouldn’t do to have her try to make plans when he had them all gathered to go over his plotting. It would be nice to get Adrien’s number - preferably without her knowing. Of course, as always, he would aim to see that stunning smile of hers, she didn’t show it off nearly enough.

“Marinette, my magnificent- oh.”

He bursts into her room with his usual loud theatrics, but switches to be quieter impressively quickly. The girl in question is flopped across her bed, clearly dead to the world. Just to be on the safe side, he climbs the ladder, and whispers over to her,”Psst! Mari! How asleep are you?”

His only response is a light shiver, he frowns, finally noticing that Marinette is rather curled in on herself - her blankets kicked to the side - and the trapdoor to the balcony is slightly ajar. Well that just won’t do.

“Tsk, were you out late on your balcony? At the very least you could have shut the door properly. You’ll get yourself sick like this, and what would Allan say then?”

He moves onto the bed to correct her missing blankets. Pulling the trapdoor shut completely - it seems to have an annoying habit of sticking - he goes back down her ladder. Standing in front of her desk, he steals a sticky note and borrows a pen to leave note - he won’t be here when she wakes up:

Marinette!

I stopped by to say hello and I found that you were still asleep. Allan would be happy - he’s rather concerned about your sleeping schedule. He would have been less pleased to find that you were freezing yourself, what with your blankets off to the side and the trapdoor open! Your mom wanted me to remind you to eat, so you should do that! Can’t be our patisserie princess if you’re starving! We’d hate to see you suffer like that! Take care of yourself.

Your friend, Claude! ☺

Seeing her phone nearby, he unlocks it quickly and goes to her contacts. He knows most of his friends passwords, for the sole purpose of spontaneously changing their background and their names in the chats. Occasionally he’ll set reminders for them to take care of themselves if he deems it necessary, but not as often. He would never use it to snoop, and his friends are aware he knows the password - they’ve given the all clear. 

In this instance, he has plans that Mari can’t know about. Not that it’s a bad thing, but he thinks it would be best to do it in secret. For this, he needs Adrien. The boy’s name is easy enough to find, with two heart emojis next to it no less.

Claude grins mischievously, another thing to add to his growing list of evidence to fuel his suspicions of Marinette’s true feelings towards the model. He has no issue with it - totally ships the two actually.

He returns to where Marinette left off last on her phone - the group chat actually - and sets it back where he found it. 

“Farewell ‘Nettie! Sleep well!” He exits the room with a wave, completely unaware of the blue eyes that were watching him carefully the whole time. The little being smiles after him.

---

Kid Mime: Guys meet me at my house in 30 minutes. This is Claude.

Adrien: Uh, okay. Did Mari give you my number? 

Kid Mime: sure

Melodie: Wait, what’s going on?

The Mom Friend: hes plottin agan al’

Felix: Oh wonderful, what is it this time?

Adrien: What’s going on?

Melodie: Don’t question it. 

Melodie: Am I right to assume you’re Adrien?

Adrien: Yeah? Did I miss something?

The Mom Friend: jus go with it. hes got good reasons

The Mom Friend: probably

Kid Mime: i do.

Kid Mime: trust me

Kid Mime: its abouut mari

Adrien: Alright. Uh, where do you live? I’m not sure if Father has plans for me today

Kid Mime: felix please

Felix: Fine. 

Felix: Adrien, I will be picking you up at your place 20 minutes from now.

Adrien: Okay?

---

Adrien is browsing through the Ladyblog posts of the last month. He’s reviewing all footage of his Lady to see if there was any point he could have seen through her facade. He’s got nothing so far.

A knock at his door.

“Adrien.” It’s Nathalie, “You have a visitor. He says that he is here to pick you up.” Right, Felix is here for Claude’s mystery thing. Adrien pushes back on the floor, flying across the room on his chair. It’d probably be healthy for him to stop obsessing over Ladybug anyways - it’s all he’s done today. He carefully scoops up the sleeping Plagg, putting him in his inner pocket.

“Coming!” He opens the door and sees Felix standing in the entryway, speaking to Father. He hasn’t even been here a minute and Gabriel Agreste is already willing to speak to him. It’s so surprising it’s honestly sad.

Felix, he thinks, teach me your ways.

As he comes closer, the senior Agreste turns to his son, “Adrien. It is pleasing to see you striving to make such promising connections at your age.” Behind him, it almost looks like Felix winks at him, but it’s so uncharacteristic of the boy that Adrien can’t be sure, “Enjoy your time with Mr. Voclain today.” 

With that he exits, shutting himself back in his office.

“Will you two be requiring a ride?” Nathalie is at the door, looking at them curiously.

“Uh…”

“No ma’am. I have my own driver.”

“Alright. Adrien, be back before curfew.”

“Yes, Nathalie.”

They walk out together. Felix’s car is much more toned down than Adrien’s normal one, it fits the boy’s taste better, and Adrien wonders if Felix is actually given choices when it comes to his things.

“We may proceed to Claude’s house now, sir.”

The driver nods and they join the other cars on the road.

“So, uh, what exactly is going on?”

“I am not entirely sure.That said, I do have some idea, so allow me to explain. You have not known Claude long enough to be aware of this, but occasionally, Claude gets an idea into his head and will draw us all together to pull it off. There is often a large amount of scheming and sneaking around on his part. Sometimes it is simply a prank or surprise of the sort, but this time I get the distinct feeling that it is more serious than many of the past plots. Considering what little he told us through text, and the fact that Marinette was not present in the chat, it likely has something to do with her.”

“Okay. Should I be worried for her? Like, did Claude find something out...?” 

“If it was dire, he would likely call us all to her house and tell us then. Seeing as he is planning, it is not anything to worry too much about.”

“Okay. Um, do you know how he got my number? He wasn’t exactly clear with his answer.”

Felix shook his head, smiling a little, “I have learned that attempting to decipher Claude rarely yields satisfactory results.”

They sit in silence for the remainder of the ride. Adrien is stewing in concern. Marinette has seemed fine lately - she’d seemed like she was doing a lot better actually - but then so had Ladybug. If Claude is concerned, then Adrien will trust his judgement, he spends more time with the girl than the model anyways. He would know if something was wrong. The idea of Marinette upset again hurts him, especially so close with Ladybug revealing her thoughts.

Were the kind pig-tailed girls of Paris just especially prone to emotional distress lately?

“We are here.” Felix breaks him out of his thoughts. Adrien glances up at the building before them. Time to find out what Claude’s got planned.

---

Claude’s room is a blue-gray rectangle with light carpet. He had two large fluffy gray rugs, a window seat what held a mish-mashed variety of pillows and two large green pillows on the floor - one of which Allegra was sitting on. Across from the door was a dresser cluttered with various knick-knacks with a tall mirror and a hamper to the right of it. There was a low shelf with a plant on it containing various books and games. The bunk bed had a giant teddy-bear under the ladder, and the bottom bunk had been converted into a couch of sorts. Claude was standing against the wall near a whiteboard that had various colorful markers on its shelf. Adrien and Felix enter, the latter sitting on the window seat, and after a moment’s hesitation Adrien sat on the bed-turned-couch.

“Alright, you two are here, now we just need-” “Hey.”

“Allan! Yay, now we can get started!” Claude claps his hands together as Allan takes a seat on the other green floor cushion.

“What is it this time?” Allegra leans back on her arms, looking at Claude expectantly, “I’ve got the feeling it’s more serious than filling Felix’s locker with confetti?”

“It is, it’s about Marinette. I know that we all are aware of her issues with confidence-” Adrien frowns at this, hating to hear his everyday-Ladybug described like that. Not that it’s inaccurate, but it’s such a far cry from the confident leader he knew she could be. He can’t help but feel he could have done more. He tunes back in to what Claude is saying, because the least he can do is help bring her back, “But I think we under-estimated just how bad it is. When I went back for my textbook, I told her we enjoyed hanging out with her, and she was legitimately surprised-”

“But she’s so great!” Allegra interrupts incredulously.

“I know! She covered it up quickly - honestly she would do great in acting - but guys it was more than just surprised. She was…” he trails off, looking for the words, “She was like, absolutely astounded - like this was some sort of staggering revelation, but also hopeful? Then that got crushed immediately, even before she covered everything else. What even happened?” Claude intended the question to be rhetorical, but as the others were processing what he said, Adrien sighed.

“A lot. A lot happened.” Everyone’s head snapped to him immediately, having forgotten that he may have answers. He ran his hand through his hair - Father would have a heart attack at his model son’s hair looking so unruly.

“So you do know.” Allegra looks to him in confirmation, “Not that I’m asking what happened - that’s for her - but you do know?”

“Yeah, I do.” His face darkens as he thinks of all the classmates he still has to interact with on a near-daily basis. It drives him crazy, but it’s more bearable than when they were constantly trash-talking his best friend.

“That’s helpful. Even without tellin’ us things, you’ll be able to know how Mari might feel about whatever Claude has planned.” Allan speaks carefully, clearly still thinking things over.

“What is it that you have planned Claude?” Felix draws everyone’s attention back to the other boy. 

“I have done some research on the best ways to help-”

“Willing to bet murder wasn’t one of them.” Allegra mutters under breath.

“No, unfortunately not. However! There were other options, aren’t illegal. A lot of it is just being there, so just letting her know we do actually care about her and making an effort to hang out with her.” He sums this up and puts it on the on the whiteboard next to a number one.

“What’s she doin’ right now? Does she think we’re all hangin’ out without her? I don’t wanna’ have her worrying about that.”

“A good point Al. I went over to her house to try and find a way to distract her while we would be doing this-”

“And?”

“And she was sleeping. Shocking I know, but it would seem that she is capable of actually sleeping.” Something about this sticks in Adrien’s mind. He feels like there’s something he’s supposed to remember.

“Good. I’m happy-”

“Allan, before you celebrate our baby bird finally learning to take a break, you should know she was basically freezing herself. Balcony door open and no blankets.”

Allan tosses his arms in the air in exasperation, “Someone needs to teach her the definition of ‘self-care’!”

“I’m with him.”

“We can work that in. Anyways, point two - when she says something bad about herself, we aren’t supposed to just tell her she’s wrong. We’re supposed to find the root of it I guess? Like instead of ‘you aren’t stupid’ we’re supposed say something like, ‘why do you feel that way’ if that makes sense.”

They all nod and he adds a second point to the board.

“This one is a little harder for the non-Adriens among us, but we should be aware of it in case it becomes relevant. We have to make sure she realizes that she’s allowed to feel bad about a bad situation - mostly the one that instigated this I guess? So as I said, she doesn’t talk about it much with us, but…” he adds it to the board next to a 3.

“How much do you guys know?” Adrien doesn’t want to reveal something that Marinette doesn’t want them to know.

Allan shrugs, “Not much really.”

“We just have what we can infer… or theorize - but then we sound nosy, and we really aren’t trying to dig into her personal stuff.” Allegra adds.

“We noticed that she reacted poorly to being asked why she transferred, as well as all the moments when she cuts herself off. It was simple enough to notice a trend. Our best guess is bullying, but we do not actually know anything for sure.”

“Not to mention the-” Claude starts the sentence, but the other three finish with him, “bruises.”

“Yeah, those.” Adrien rubs the back of his neck and messes up his hair more. The rest clearly wish to ask more questions, but realize that any questions may earn more of an answer than they feel they’re allowed to know. They’re worried, but don’t want to go behind Marinette’s back to get answers she hasn’t given them yet.

After a moment, Claude brings them back on topic, “So I think one more little thing is compliments? From what I understand, sincere compliments are better than just standard ones. I think though that these should be in addition to any compliments we normally give her, because if we suddenly started complimenting her less she might think it’s weird and take it badly.”

The others give various affirmations, and Adrien raises his hand. Claude notices and blinks at him momentarily before calling on him, “Adrien. Also, you can shout it out - not going to give you detention.”

“Oh, okay. What qualifies as a ‘sincere compliment’? I sincerely mean anything I say to her.”

Claude gets a mischievous look that the other three recognize, “Adrien, care to elaborate? What kind of compliments?”

“Well, like she’s really pretty and really nice. I used to call her our ‘everyday-Ladybug’ because she just so strong and brave. Not to mention talented. Have you seen some of her designs? Did you know she won one of my father’s contests? She’s such a good leader too, maybe a bit rusty now, but I’m sure that if it came to it she would come up with an amazing plan for really anything. And she got so many people together. She was so good at figuring out which people complimented each other and would work well together and-” he notices them all looking at him strangely, “What?”

“Well,” Allan is smiling at him,”Other than it being nice t’ hear ‘bout Mari before all this, your rambling kinda’ sounded…”

Claude is bouncing on his feet, grinning eagerly, “I knew it.”

“What?”

Allegra looks at him, “Maybe think about it for a moment.” To the rest she shakes her head, adding, “I don’t think he’s even realized.”

“No, it would not seem so.” Even Felix seems to understand what they’re getting at.

“What haven’t I realized?”

“Adrien. You precious sunshine boy.” Claude still looks delighted, “You have a crush on Marinette.”

“What? I don’t have a-” He had a crush on Ladybug, not Marinette. Sure, Marinette was beautiful, with her bluebell eyes, and adorable pigtails, and she had a lot of similar qualities that Ladybug had that had made him like her in the first- oh. “... I have a crush on Marinette.” His face immediately flushes at the realization and all the implications.

“Well that was incredibly pure.” Allegra and the rest seem to have found this entertaining. Adrien is panicking over the fact that he has a crush on two different girls. He’ll have to talk with Plagg later.

“Perhaps we should spare Adrien. Claude, do you have anymore points? You also have yet to inform us what ridiculous name you have thought up this time.” Felix draws everyone’s attention off Adrien. He certainly appreciates it, his face is still slightly red.

“Uh, that’s it for my points, but OMMAM do I have a name for you!” Claude quickly adds point four to the board, “Operation Make Marinette Appreciate Marinette!”  He looks to them, waiting to see if it sinks in.

Allan gets it first, smiling slightly, and Adrien gives a thumbs up soon after.

“Oh, come on, seriously?” Allegra rolls her eyes and Felix shakes his head.

“Anyways! November 1st - day one of OMMAM! Here we go!”

Something about that last statement strikes the same bell in Adrien’s head from earlier. Something about November maybe…

“Wait it’s November?” Maybe following it will fill in the blanks?

“Yeah, the spooky month ended yesterday.”

“What temperature is it outside?”

“Just below 4 (39℉). Why?”

Wait. November - cold. Adrien thought back to last year, remembering how Marinette had been oddly tired. He remembered vaguely hearing about a condition, which she had mentioned again over the summer. Claude had said that when he checked on her she’d been sleeping…

“Claude, you said Marinette was sleeping? You checked on her earlier today? Were there any heaters in her room?”

“No… why? Is something wrong? Do we need to go check on her? Her parents are home.”

No heaters and Mari’s room was typically close to the outside temperature. This could be bad.

“They’re catering today, they were only there for a little bit this morning. We should go over there now, just in case.”

All of them are standing now. Allan asks first, “What’s wrong? Should we be worried?”

He doesn’t really know, Alya knew the most and he can’t ask her for obvious reasons. Marinette’s parents’ phones will be silenced, Marinette herself won’t be much help if his hunch is correct.

“Uh… maybe? It’s only November, but we should still go...”

They’re all out the door quickly, heading in the direction of the bakery.

---

By some luck, Adrien has a key. He doesn’t even remember the exact circumstances that led to the Dupain-Chengs giving him it, but this is the first time he’s used it.

“Should we call up? So she knows it’s us?” Allegra asks cautiously.

“I don’t think she’d hear us. She’s probably still asleep.” Adrien leads them up the staircase. 

“Really? She doesn’t sleep in a lot and it’s pretty late even if she did.”

“It’s a thing. I don’t really know the details. If we get her up she can probably explain better. I wasn’t really the one she hung out with last year. She gets really tired when it’s cold? I think it’s more than that though.”

“Oh.” 

Adrien can see that they’re all stressed and concerned. That’s fair. He would be too if someone suddenly told him that they need to go check on his new friend immediately without a clear reason.

They reach the stairs to Mari’s room and Adrien pushes open the trapdoor. As he expected, the girl is still in bed. The others frown in concern, Adrien climbs up to her shaking her gently. She only hums in response.

“We should probably try to warm up her room.”

“Wait. Does she have a fever?” Allan steps forward and stands near the ladder, “We don’t want to heat her up too much then. Just make it not cold anymore.”

Adrien nods, turning to feel the girl’s forehead, “Probably? She feels hot but I don’t really know.

“Allan can stay with her while you show us where the heaters are.” Allegra suggests.

“Maybe find a thermometer?” Allan is above them now and they nod as Adrien leads them back down into the house.

“Hey ‘Nette, you awake at all?” If she’s been sleeping all day she should wake up to at least drink something.

She hums at him in confirmation. “Alright. Have you eaten today?” She shakes her head slightly, though it’s an odd gesture from someone laying on their side.

He sighs, having figured as much, “What did you eat yesterday?” She vaguely gestures behind him. He sees two energy bar wrappers and an empty plastic water bottle, “... that’s it?” He tosses them over the edge into the trash.

She nods and he sighs, “Mari, that’s not healthy…” She gives him an odd look, her eyes squinting at him. She doesn’t have the energy to elaborate verbally so he just shrugs at her.

The trap door opens and Allegra enters. She has a glass of water and a thermometer.

“I considered soup, but figured it could wait for now. The boys are getting the heaters.” She climbs the ladder carefully and hands Allan the thermometer, putting the water on a flat surface and sitting at the top of the ladder near the end of the bed.

After some negotiations, Allan convinces Marinette to let him take her temperature. A minute later, it beeps. Looking at it he reads,”38.8 (102℉).” He shakes his head at the sleepy girl.

“Hey, Mari, can we convince you to drink something?” Allegra lifts the water glass.

In response she scrunches up her nose and tries to burrow under the blanket, mumbling,” s’eeepp…”

“Marinette you’ve been sleeping for hours. Just drink something for us and we’ll leave you be, okay?”

Marinette’s brain is slow and she’s not quite sure what’s happening. She knows Allan and Allegra are here and they want her to drink water. Maybe? It’s all very confusing. Where is everyone else? Weren’t they here? What is that they wanted? She thought it wasn’t a school day today, so why are they here?

“Wha?” She tries to open her eyes further to get a better idea of ...anything really, but it turns out to be too difficult a task. She can spot a glass of water though, she thinks one of them is holding it. Or it’s floating magically. Water would probably be good, but that means sitting up. Sitting up means moving. A lot. She hears one of them mention the water again. She shakes her head. She hates to disappoint them but sitting up is such a task.

“Marinette, honey, just sit up quick then we’ll leave you be.” Allegra has pulled herself further on the bed as she and Allan continue to negotiate with their dazed friend. The boys have returned with the heaters but haven’t done anything with them. They’re all standing around the room waiting for further instructions. 

“What should we do now?” Adrien calls up to Allan. He hates that he feels so useless, but they can’t all just crowd around her.

“Ibuprofen? That could help the fever.” 

“On it.” Adrien’s the only one that actually knows where it could be so the others leave it to him. 

“How’s she doin’ Al?”

“She’s got a fever of 38.8 (102℉), and won’t drink water.” 

“She’s pretty tired, I’m not sure she can sit-up…” Allegra adds on.

She can’t sit up. Marinette wants to make sure they know they’re aware of this so she tries to speak. She greatly overestimated her ability to do so however, so all that comes out is,”noo...t’ muh wor’...”

Allan shakes his head at her and Allegra smiles softly. Claude and Felix can’t hear her from where they are. Adrien reappears with a bottle of ibuprofen, passing it up to those on the bed. Allan reads the bottle while Allegra moves to help Marinette prop herself up. The girl is too weak to really resist and settles for leaning heavily against the braided blonde.

“Marinette can you take some ibuprofen too? It could help.” Allan has the ibuprofen and water ready, holding it out for her. She somehow manages to summon enough strength to grab them both, swallowing the medicine with the water. She gets about halfway done with the water before her arm starts shaking from the struggle. One of the others takes it out of her hands for her, setting it down. She slumps further, ready to go back to sleep. Marinette really hopes there's nothing else they have planned for her. She doesn’t like to let them down, but she’s just so exhausted. 

It seems they finally understand that, because she’s allowed to lay down again and she vaguely registers them climbing down as she drifts back to sleep. She’s woken by her mother? She isn’t entirely sure how much time has passed, but she has soup for her so that’s nice. Marinette is pretty sure she had most of the soup. Or some of it? It’s not entirely clear to her in all honesty. Eventually she’s allowed to return to rest.

She wakes up again. It’s late, and she can tell it’s dark out. If she woke up on her own then she’s probably better now. That logic makes sense. Yeah…

There’s probably something she can do. The designer sits up slowly, thinking. Maybe she can- wait. Her plants! It’s fall and they can’t be outside in the winter, she has to take them inside so she can care for them! This certainly isn’t something that can wait for morning! Not at all! She should get on that.

---

Chat Noir is on a late-night patrol. Too many of his friends are going through things and sometimes it helps to just run across the rooftops. It can help clear his head.

That said, he would like to check on them. Ladybug is unfortunately out of the question, but he can always swing by the bakery. Marinette won’t be up, but maybe-

He pauses as the bakery comes into view. The girl in question is currently up and on her balcony. That’s not right. He and the other four stayed at her house for a few hours and she slept the whole time. Her parents came home and the friends left after letting them know. Marinette was definitely very sick, so there was no reason for her to be outside on her balcony of all places.

She seems to be trying to move her plants? It can’t be easy with how much she’s shaking. He starts forward again, picking up his pace when it begins to look like she may collapse. He lands near her and she doesn’t even seem to notice. Before he can say anything, she goes to try moving a different pot and trips on nothing, falling backwards into him.

“Hey Princess.”

“...hi?”

He gently grabs her by the shoulders, turning her around to face him though still holding her up. As much as he wants to ask her just what she thinks she’s doing, he can’t exactly say ‘hey I’m Adrien Agreste, I’m well aware that you are very sick and shouldn’t be outside in the middle of the night, especially in the fall. I was literally here hours ago and your temperature was almost 40 (104℉), you lovable moron.’

Instead, he says, “Are you okay? Lookin’ a little shaky there Mari.”

“ ‘m fine.”

He raises an eyebrow moving to feel her forehead, “Really now?” He can feel the heat of her fever through his glove.

“Mhm. Had a fever, but ‘m betta’ no.” She looks up at him blearily and blinks.

“You’re better now huh? The fever you’ve got begs to differ.”

“Don’ hav’ ah feev’r. All good…” She shakes her head and would have fallen over if it it weren’t for the fact he was still gripping her shoulders

“All good? And why is that?” This ought to be interesting.

“I woke up… an’ I got ou’ here…” She seems to be utterly convinced by this rock-solid reasoning.

“Princess, I hate to break it to you, but you aren’t actually better. You should get back to sleep.”

“ ‘m no’ tire’” She huffs like some defiant toddler, crossing her arms. It may have been more convincing if she wasn’t leaning heavily to one side.

“You should still go inside. It’ll be warmer.”

“No, an’ my plantsss…”

“Your plants can survive outside another night. Come on Mari.”

He guides her to the trapdoor, holding it open for her and following her inside. It feels weird being over so late, but he has a feeling that she may not actually sleep. He’ll just keep an eye on her until she does.

“See? t’s not warm.” She’s curled up near her cat pillow and is glaring at him feverishly. It isn’t all that menacing if he’s honest.

“Well,” he makes a point to look over the edge of the bed at the heaters they didn’t end up setting up earlier, “What about those heaters?”

She blinks at him.

He moves down the ladder. They didn’t do anything earlier because they didn’t want to make her too hot, but now the temperature has dropped and the girl’s room is rather cold.

After a bit, the room has warmed some and he returns to his friend. She hasn’t moved much and just blinks at him sleepily. He sits next to her.

“There, is that any better? Think you can sleep now Princess?”

“ ‘m not tir’d…” She just looks at him, as if suggesting she sleep is entirely bizarre.

“You’re sick. You need your rest Marinette. Your room is warm now so-” He gets cut off when she flops across him. Oh well, he’s probably the warmest thing in this room right now. If that’s what it takes to get her to sleep then he can deal with a Marinette blanket.

“ ‘re m’re w’m.”

He smiles at her, “Really now?”

“Mhm. but ‘m not tires..”

“Anything that could make you tired that you can think of? Because you do need to sleep. I could look something up…” He glances down at her. She’s making a weak grabby motion in his general direction.

“ ‘ugs?” She looks so hopeful and who is he to say no to her? He scoops her up so he can hug her without leaning down and squishing her. She’s curled against him and returning the hug feebly. 

After about ten minutes her breathing evens out and she falls asleep lightly. He doesn’t want her to wake up so decides to wait a moment before moving her to her bed properly. He doesn’t really mind.

Besides, sleepy Marinette hugs are wonderful. He can wait.

He eventually transfers her under her blankets so that she can sleep on a proper bed and he can go to his own. He brushes her hair out of her face carefully as her exits her room. Being sure to shut the trapdoor properly, he goes back to his house.

He’d rest easier knowing one of his friends is doing all right.

---

Author’s Note: Apparently, a common effect of being overworked is having trouble falling asleep. As I said, Marinette worked herself sick - quite literally.

From here, the winter effects of her miraculous will begin impacting Mari, especially due to the fact that she worked away any stamina she may have had.

Reference slides for Claude's room here! I really know nothing about the typical parisian house, so I just designed the room based off Claude. Is it easy to tell he's my favorite to write for? I think I understand his personality best, so it's really easy to write for him.

Does anyone know if I can schedule my posts on AO3? It'd be useful, but I'm not sure it's an option.

Double update today! I'm really looking forward to the akuma in the next chapter. I'm both ashamed and proud of it.

As always, thanks for reading, and constructive criticism is welcomed in the comments below! I love seeing comments!

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[countcalebwrites]

My military experience Pt. 1

I wanted to travel and get the fuck outta Louisiana. My dad and my brother had air force experience. I figured I’d join them. So I called a recruiter and started the process. My mother was really angry.

Shit man. A lot of my cousins around where I was raised are drug dealers. I was a late teenager who was homeschooled that wanted to get away without tons of college debt. The military just seemed like the answer. So I went to the recruiter. Had to train for a few months and make sure I was able to run and be in shape.

My body and running don’t mix. I have an uneven natural balance and my feet are large (I wear size 17) and rigid with no shock support. When I run, my back my hips, and my feet hurt. A lot. I remember running one morning and trying to take all the pain I possibly could and then fainting on the side of the road. This one lady stopped her car and said “oh I thought you were dead”

Awkward.

Anyway, my physical shape was acceptable. I still couldn’t run but I hoped that’d fix itself somehow down the line. I had to focus on the other part: passing the test to get in in the first place. So eventually I got transferred to a base in New Orleans. I had my own hotel room! (that I ended up sharing with this navy dude but whatever) My memory a little hazy but I remember there was a waitress at the restaurant connected to the hotel, and while we were eating, the navy dude made a motion like he was sucking her boobs. I don’t know why I felt the need to share that detail, but yeah. She did have big boobs I guess.

Anyway, we go to the base to take the tests. I think first test I took was the ASVAB. Something like that. Just know it’s an air force assessment test. I had sinus issues and my nose kept running while I was taking the test so I took it slower than my peers I remember. I didn’t want anyone to see my nose running so I waited a bit so I could sneak out unseen and maybe get to the bathroom for some tissue. When I walked out, I instantly get handed the test and everyone is looking at me and the guy is like “nice young man you got an 84!” and everyones looking at me and clapping. Then someone is like “yeah we were waiting on you, about time”

I’m just trying to make sure no one is noticing my nose running the whole time.

Awkward.

I was happy with my score. I didn’t study for the test or anything and it was high enough to get me the job I wanted: Cyber Systems Operator. My main goal with the military was to get computer science experience for 4 years and go get a programming job or something.

Anyway, I had to do physical tests too. The recruiter kept saying don’t mention things you don’t need to mention or you’ll probably get sent home. I understood what he meant. We had to take a drug test. I remember going to the bathroom and this black dude was like yeah do your thing brotha. I was like aight…

I was pretty proud of myself that I was able to piss on command like that. One dude kept having to go back and drink water.

I also remember us getting our blood drawn for something. This one army dude who kept talking all tough was yelling and screaming when the nurse went to draw his blood. The nurse was like “Are you really…a grown man..afraid of getting your blood drawn?”

When it was my turn she said “I hope you not gonna cry like that last guy” lmao

I remember a doctor having to examine me and he asked if I had any birthmarks and I told him I have one near my chest. He asked to see it and I said I didn’t feel comfortable taking my clothes off for that. He looked really annoyed. Later I get the same doctor for another test where he has to feel my balls for something. So I told him “well since you know….we’ve gone this far…I guess I can show you my birthmark. And sorry.”

He told me it didn’t matter anymore and he understood my anxiety.

After all that, it turns out I was SPECIAL and had to go to a doctor who wasn’t on the base about my ears and my feet. So I had to stay in the hotel again then head to the appointments they set for me

My new roommate was an army guy. I didn’t really know much about him but he liked putting the TV on cartoon network. He didn’t seem like he wanted to kill people or anything. Just some white dude who said he wanted to be a cook or something, I don’t remember.

So anyway, I head off to my appointments. I first went to a doctor for my foot. I remember a really hot receptionist chick. I was like damn I wish I lived in New Orleans. I was afraid to make eye contact with her!!! I felt so adultish, filling out paperwork and etc on my own while being afraid of a hot receptionist chick. The doctor talked to me and the whole convo was basically I don’t know if your foot can handle it but hey, might as well try. I agreed.

The other doctor I saw cleaned my ears and things suddenly were louder to me. That blew my mind. I had never really been to an ear doctor before and I didn’t know that was possible.

Blah blah. I go back to the base. After I wait in the waiting room for like 8 HOURS I finally got to go back home. I’m not exaggerating 8 hours. I saw Gridiron Gang and some other movie and I played Halo. I remember when I was playing Halo there was a black chick next to me giving me advice. She was like “you gotta shoot them!!” and I was like “thank you for telling me that I have to shoot people. in this shooting game” She was kinda cute but her yelling was making me nervous which is why I was just like ok I’ll just put the TV back on movies.

So fast foward I end up going back to the New Orleans base months later and I got sworn in as a trainee! I remember this one fellow air force dude said the plot to Inception was bothering him a lot so I tried to explain it. I don’t think my analysis got through to him, but whatever. We get our plane tickets and all that shit. I remember one dude was like “Damn our souls basically belong to the government now” and I was thinking “wow kinda late to be thinking about that huh??”

Fast forward we on the plane. I didn’t get seated next to my fellow air force ppl. I sat by this white lady leaving New Orleans. She was really nice to me. I was kinda spooked by it. I was like “why is this white lady being so nice, she plottin some shit??”

She asked if I was a boy scout or something cause I walked in with a bunch of other teen boys and I was like “Nah we air force” etc. She told me “Thank you for your service” and I was like “well I didn’t really do anything yet ma’am haha” (and I wanted to say I’m doing this to make a better life for myself not for the country but whatever)

I got off and got on another plane in Texas. This plane had a lot more military ppl on it. I sat by this black dude from chicago. He told me I seem really chill, then he pointed at a dude in front of us and said “see that dude? He’s 18. And married.”

“what an idiot. I’ll fuck a girl but I ain’t about to marry her you know??”

I just kinda nodded and said something like “heh yea I’m not tryna do relationships right now, especially marriage tho”

Off the plane. And the whole atmosphere changed. I suddenly felt anxious. I was right to feel that way.

Suddenly people are yelling “GET ON THE BUS” and etc. I realized this is it. This is the start of training. I got on the bus. They explained a bunch of shit to us and told us to walk in the building. This training instructor kept yelling NIKE and I was like who that. And I had a nike shirt on. He was talking about me. Oh shit. I don’t really remember much stuff here but I remember getting yelled at a lot. Stuff like “get up the stairs you moron!” and etc. I later found out these verbal insults are scripted and I shouldn’t take them to heart.

After a bunch of brainwashing seminars and shit we get sent to our dorm. The training instructor who escorted us there was this white man and he swore a few times. Then he told us that if we like rap then we shouldn’t be offended by the swearing. I guess his logic made sense. I didn’t really care but yeah.

The next day we get our REAL training instructor. A black dude. Dude was ripped. And terrifying cause he seemed like he had mood swings. Another  scripted Training Instructor trait. We had to go get our underwear, uniforms, etc. I remember when I had to get my boots. They didn’t have any boots in 17. I was confused. and afraid. I just took a random pair and walked off and this one lady called me back and gave me a pair of 16s. They fit pretty decently. But I was late because of all that. So when I rejoined with the group, the instructor was like “and that’s how you cuff your pants” and I was like “shit. this is gonna come back to haunt me isn’t it??”

It did. I got yelled at for not having my pants cuffed properly several times.

Here’s another thing about my foot: I also can’t stand for long periods of time. I can walk around just fine. But standing in place hurts too. I get fidgety and shift my body to stop the pain. That got noticed by my instructor very quickly–he eventually pulled me aside and asked me what my problem was. I told him and he told me I should go to the doctor soon.

I went to the emergency room. These two chicks had basically graduated from training were there for something, don’t really remember. They asked what was wrong and I said my foot. They went “Awww” and I honestly didn’t know how to take it because there’s this kinda toxic masculine culture I picked up quickly in the military so I couldn’t tell if they were being sarcastic or really saying “aww poor you”

Anyway, I saw the doctor. He told me “hah, you’re fucked” after looking at my foot, which was turning blue. In those words. He asked where I was from and I told him. He mentioned the term “Coonass” that he picked up from when he was stationed in Louisiana. When I told him “coonass” is probably a racist term, he told me “whoa woops I didn’t know.”

He told me he liked me cause I was really laid back and jokey with him despite all what was going on and wrote a waiver saying I can sit or exclude myself from physical activity whenever I wanted.

Hell yeah! (Kinda)

I wasn’t going to be able to graduate with that waiver, so in the end, it was just a temporary relief thing.

I took a psych eval test somewhere in this week and it asked all kinda questions about mental state, suicide, depression, etc. I admitted I was depressed. It was very depressing being in this hostile environment with a foot that was preventing me from doing everything properly.

I later got called in by the psych eval people. I was really worried that saying I was depressed was gonna get me in trouble or something. Turns out I had left a question blank.

“Have you ever considered suicide?”

Well….damn. I think I spaced out when I saw that question. I told the truth. I did as a younger teen. (and I was getting close to there in this situation, because I felt like dead weight and my brain was going numb, but I wasn’t going to tell that psych eval dude that)

He asked why I didn’t do it and I told him because it would bring too much stress on my family. That was that. Back to my dorm. I had an appointment scheduled for my foot (a doctor that wasn’t an ER doctor). Somewhere in all that, I remember we had this speech by this Carl Winslow looking ass instructor. He walked in and said “Yo ass is grass, and I’m the lawnmower.”

My dad told me that quote a lot. I smiled because I finally realized where he got it from.

I didn’t smile after he told us that the government owns us and could sentence us to death if we don’t cooperate though.

Anyway, I remember going to church. You (kinda) have to go. You don’t HAVE to, but if you don’t, you gotta stay back in the dorm and clean up. I’d rather pretend to listen than do that. So yeah. There were two sessions. First session was this small study session or something. This lady put on this christian military music video and I found it a perfect time to nap a bit, as I was pretty sleep-deprived. I woke up and this dude was crying saying it was so touching to see the story of the troop guy coming home to his wife. I was like “yea dope or whatever” (I didn’t see it, as I slept)

After that, we got to the main part of the church. There were different kinds of services you could go to. Even wiccan! But I chose christian, cause I didn’t really want to stand out or anything. It was ALL PROPAGANDA.

Like extremely. The preacher said God wants you to go fight and God doesn’t like cowards. I was like “Alrighty then” and started tuning out anything after that. Whack ass shit.

Fast forward, got to go to my doctor’s appointment. The air force was coming off some type of sex abuse scandal, so the rule was: you can only travel in groups of 2 or more. You cannot travel alone. So I had a partner to come with me. I went to my doctor’s appointment and the doctor told me my foot issue will probably only get worse and I should probably seperate from the military unless I can somehow numb the pain. Damn. I walk out, and my wingman is gone. I was stranded at the damn’s doctor office for hours and I ended up missing lunch. Cool.

I remember calling the office for my dorm and explaining my situation. He kept saying “Trainee, where’s your wingman?” and I kept saying “I don’t know.” Then he said “”You are a waste of The USA’s resources. Goodbye.” and hang up. That kinda hurt my feelings lmao but the doctor near me told me “well it’s not your fault”

That was that. I got transferred to another dorm later. I’ll continue this another time and talk about what happened in that dorm and the end of my military career.

P2 here