#Seriously though I think we've been pranked

[liplockveins]

Maybe the real countdown is the phreinds we made along the way

[ddejavvu]

hiya! i’m literally in love with your writing!

i was wondering whether you do another part of the cat animagus collection?

maybe one where no one can find where r is, they spend ages looking for her. when they reach the dorms or something she’s in a really odd spot that only a cat could get to

part 1 / part 2 / part 3 / part 4

--

After a thorough search of both the grounds and the castle, Sirius Black bursts through the door to his dormitory and looks wildly around the messy room. He sees Remus studying at his desk, James reading upside-down on his bed, several piles of dirty laundry strewn across the floor, but no you.

"Jesus, mate," James hisses, righting himself and looking bewilderedly at his friend, "What's the matter with you?"

'Gimme the map," Sirius demands, and when James doesn't scramble for it fast enough, he barks, "The map, Prongs! Y/N's missing."

Remus's nose scrunches, "She had a headache earlier. She's probably in her dorm."

"I've checked her dorm, Moony," Sirius resists the urge to sneer at the man, "I'm not stupid, thank you very much."

Remus doesn't appreciate Sirius's tone, no matter how restrained it is from what it could have been. He mutters something disdainful when he turns his attention back to his studies, seriously doubting Sirius's assertion of his own intelligence.

Sirius chooses to ignore it in favor of snapping at the map, the trigger words lighting it up in a coffee-brown display of home. His eyes flit to your dormitory first, finding it, of course, empty. Then the library, also devoid of your presence. The grounds show similarly none of you, and it's James who spots your name in their own bedroom, nose scrunching and raising his glasses as he points at the banner.

"Prongs, she's not- wait," Sirius huffs, shooting a glance at the corner of his room where you're supposedly lurking, "She hasn't borrowed your cloak, has she?"

"No, it's in my trunk," James shakes his head, studying the empty space of Sirius's bed and puzzling how you could be there and nowhere all at once, "Moony, is there an invisibility potion?"

"Not one that would last her since we've been here," He doesn't bother turning from his work, "We would have seen her by now."

"Well she can't just be there," Sirius scoffs, studying and re-studying the map like it'll admit to pranking him and showcase your real location in some hidden chamber, "Has anyone been in the closet today?"

"You think your girlfriend is hiding in the closet?" Remus verifies, once more not dignifying Sirius with a glance. It aggravates him, but he withholds from swatting Remus upside the head.

"Well, Moony, she can't have just disappeared, can she? She's gotta be in here somewhere, or else this map is shoddy. And I made it myself, so..." Sirius clenches the parchment in his fingers, grip too-tight and bruising it like skin. His eyes catch an old, out-of-use beater's bat that's protruding from the end of his bed and his words catch in his throat, silencing what would have been a very boastful statement about his magical craftsmanship.

"Hang on," He shoves the map at James, who smooths out its wrinkles with a grimace. Sirius darts for the end of his bed, reaching a tentative hand beneath it until his fingers meet soft fur and the blood rush of a beating heart.

"Gotcha," Sirius hums, peering beneath the space and, though his eyes have to strain in the little light offered by the rest of the room, he discerns that you've managed to wriggle your way into an old jumper of his; likely why you haven't heard their bickering.

"C'mere, darling," He croons, flat on his stomach as he gently pulls you out of the space. Your head comes uncovered and you wake with a start, but he's got a firm enough grip on your furry belly that you can't wriggle away from him.

"You gave me quite a scare," Sirius's tone should be admonishing like his words, but it's light and airy with mirth, "And a lot of exercise, darling. I was running up and down the grounds looking for you."

You knock your face against his in a love-warm apology, the fur lining your features ticklish to his slightly sweaty skin. He feels the stress of the hunt melt off of his muscles as he plants himself permanently on the floor, letting you curl yourself up again, this time against his face.

He should pick you up and move to his bed. He should give his sore body some reprieve on the mattress, but you look so perfectly coiled on the floor that moving you would be a sin. So he gets as comfortable as possible with his bony arm beneath his head, and lets your purrs pulse through his body and lull him into the same sleep that comes so easily to you in this feline form.

[stormz369]

☕💖 Can I Get Your Number? ☕💖 Ch. 2

Jason Todd x Chubby! Reader (fem)

A/N: Wow, I was not expecting that kind of reaction! Thank you to everyone who's interacted with chapter 1; I've had a rough week and you all made my day! I wasn't planning on posting chapter 2 until I was a bit further along with ch 3, but I just can't find it in me to say no to ya'll!

Chapter Selection

written with a female reader in mind, first person pov, no use of Y/N, hurt (no comfort) (yet), will probably get NSFW later, let me know if there's anything else I should tag this with!

warnings (chapter specific): chapter includes a brief scene of attempted assault (which will be labeled for those who'd rather skip it) angst, gun violence, some negative self-talk

words: 1.8k

Jason's first call came at exactly 2:05pm the next day. When I picked up I was immediately greeted by his voice seemingly from the other side of a very large room; “seriously, guys! I'll call, I'll call!”

“Too late!” Dick shouted, clearly holding the phone. “Hello! This is Dick, calling on behalf of my idiot brother, Jason! We met at the cafe yesterday?”

I could hear Jason shouting at someone, but it was muffled like he was under something. “Right … So are you going to put Jason on, or…?”

“Well, Jaybird is under the impression that calling a girl the next day is ‘desperate’ and ‘off-putting’, so we've taken up a poll at the house, and surprise surprise; we need a tiebreaker. Your thoughts?”

Before I could respond I heard muffled grunting; someone in the background shouted “no! Get him!” which was immediately followed by a yelp from Dick as Jason growled a bit;

“Give me that!” A door slammed, and all the other voices were gone, replaced by Jason's gentle, almost shy voice; “... Um … hi … still think this is normal sibling behavior?”

I giggled; “... Starting to veer away from normal now. But it's sweet, they obviously really care about you. And for the record - you can call the poll on the side of ‘it’s not desperate or off-putting'; I gave you my phone number, surely I expected you to use it, right?”

“... O- oh, yeah I guess that makes sense … So yeah, I'm using it. … Hi.”

“Hi~”

After that, I spoke to Jason in some capacity or another most every day. Turned out he was a night owl too. Apparently he worked most nights, so, after I assured him that a text wouldn't wake me, he started preemptively sending me a good morning text around 3 or 4am, so it was the first thing I saw when I woke up.

I loved how he could go off on an impassioned tangent; getting him all worked up over literature was especially cute. He did have a tendency to backpedal after a particularly passionate rant, no matter how many times I pointed out that I liked hearing him so excited. We also kept trying to arrange a day to get together, preferably without his brothers hovering this time, but his work schedule was so hectic that we kept having to postpone.

It seemed a bit unlikely, but I started to wonder if I had been right in the first place; that it was all some really elaborate prank. It certainly wouldn't be the first time an attractive man had played with my heart like that, though it would be the first time one had bought me anything before pulling the rug out from under me… 

Nearly a month into our texting relationship, Jason went radio silent for several days. No warning, just gone. I didn't want to be clingy, but I was a bit worried. He had been so attentive until this, what if something was wrong and I was out here thinking the worst about him?

On day 5 without a response I picked up a late shift at work, hoping to distract myself from the whole thing. It didn't work though, and I ended up trudging home at 2am blasting loud, angry music through my headphones. I was frustrated, and confused, and careless. I didn't notice the man behind me until his hand was around my wrist.

 ❌❌❌ -skip point- ❌❌❌

The world moved in slow motion as I was pulled into the alley. The man's mouth was moving, but I just heard a staticy ring. I tasted copper, and everything was too dark. Things didn't snap back into focus until I felt the rough brick slam against my back and I screamed, shoving against him.

All at once, everything was moving too fast; he was grabbing, I was punching and kicking, my voice was cracking. A second felt like an eternity, I couldn't even hazard a guess how long the fight actually took. But all at once it ended; with a loud, sharp sound that left me frozen in place and my ears ringing, the man collapsed in front of me. Red bloomed across his unmoving chest, and all I could do was stare.

❌❌❌ -end skip point- ❌❌❌

Large, leather clad hands gently touched my shoulders, bringing me back into my body. I slowly looked up, blinking. I immediately recognized the masked man who had come to my aid; Red Hood had made quite the name for himself in his time as a mob boss. I heard something droning on, but couldn't focus on any specific details over the sound of my own heartbeat still pounding in my ears. It took him gingerly sliding my headphones off for me to realize the noise I was hearing was just the next song on my angry playlist.

“Miss? Can you hear me now?” there was an electric quality to his voice. I vaguely wondered why more Masks didn't use voice modulators; it seemed more practical than the standard vigilante eye coverings… 

I slowly nodded. “... Y- … yeah?”

The red helmet nodded once, “did he hurt you?”

I looked down at myself, frowning a bit. My shirt was grimed up from the struggle, and I could feel the cold night air on the back of my thighs; my pants had ripped when I tried to kick the man off me. A shaky breath turned into a sob as I gasped, looking up again.

A million thoughts ran through my head at once. I wanted to scream, to curse, anything! But all I managed was a whimpered; “... Th- these were my favorite pants …”

“... Well, your boyfriend will just have to get you a new pair. Let … let me get you home, yeah?” I flinched as he reached toward me again, a gloved finger gently wiping away my tears. He offered me his hand, easing me out of the alley like a frightened stray cat.

I followed without complaint, turning my music off. “... No boyfriend …”

“A friend then? Someone who'll take care of you.” Red Hood led me to a motorcycle. He unzipped a bag on the back, and held out a red flannel shirt.

A watery giggle slipped out of my mouth and I shakily took it, tying it around my waist. “... I don't even know anymore…” 

“Don't know?”

“Well, I was talking to a guy, but … I think he ghosted me.”

“No!” I jumped at the sudden volume and insistent tone, looking up at him awkwardly.

“... No?”

“I … I just mean … a pretty girl like you's not gonna get ghosted. If he hasn't texted back in a few days there's gotta be a reason.”

I looked away, squirming awkwardly. Did an ex-crime lord turned vigilante really just call me pretty? “... Y- … I … what?”

He was silent for a long moment. I got the distinct impression that he was staring at me, but with the helmet on it was hard to tell. “... We should get you home.”

Next thing I knew, I was holding Red Hood's helmet. I hesitantly looked up as he turned, catching just a glimpse of one of those domino masks the other local vigilantes wore. He moved his bag and swung one leg over the seat of his bike, turning back to stare at me expectantly. The prospect of letting the Red Hood know where I lived didn't seem like the smartest idea, but I was definitely not going to walk home alone after all that. So I slid the helmet on and carefully climbed behind him, placing my feet where he indicated. As I arranged the flannel between my bare thighs and the seat it occurred to me how unexpectedly kind it was of him to offer it. I knew he had been spotted working with the Bats lately, but just because they had accepted him didn’t mean he was a boy scout all of a sudden...

Of course, now that I was on his bike I was faced with the rather pressing concern of where to put my hands. I didn’t exactly have handle bars, and I doubted he was going to drive slow enough that I could stay upright; I would have to lean against him. I took a deep, steadying breath, and placed my hands on his shoulders. Hood froze a bit, and after a moment he reached behind himself to grasp my elbows. He gently pulled me to wrap my arms around his waist.

 “It's actually safest this way. Interlock your fingers, and lean with me on turns.” His voice was so much nicer without the helmet distorting it, even if he was doing a truly terrible Batman impression. 

“... O- ok…” I clung to him, feeling my entire body heat up. I wasn't sure how much of that was because I was blushing and how much was because the Red Hood was apparently a living space heater, but either way I was glad he couldn't see my face. I told him how to get to my apartment, and we sped off.

The roar of the engine and the wind whipping past mercifully drowned out anything we could have hoped to say to each other. I shut my eyes just for a moment, trying not to cry again, and suddenly Hood’s hand was trapping mine against his stomach. “... Hey, this it?”

I jolted slightly, looking up at the familiar building. I nodded, slowly extracted myself from his grip, and slid back onto solid ground. He held a hand up to stop me as I started to remove the borrowed flannel.

“Keep it.”

I blinked slowly, having trouble processing what he said. “... But … it’s your shirt … how will I give it back to you?”

He chuckled softly; “it’s just a shirt.”

I didn’t have the energy to argue the matter any further. I slipped his helmet off, holding it out to him.

“Thank you … I can't believe I let this happen…”

He frowned deeply at that, and his voice shifted a bit from a fake-Batman voice into an actually deep, grumpy tone; “you didn't let anything happen.”

“I'm usually so much more observant, if I had just been paying attention…”

“He would have changed tactics. You did nothing wrong. I don't want you thinking otherwise, got it?”

I sniffled softly, looking down at my shoes. “... I … God, I didn't even have my keys in my hand… I was taught better…”

“And I was taught not to kill. Shit happens.”

I blinked a bit, unable to stop the laugh that bubbled up. “… I … I guess so. … Th- Thank you … for everything.”

He nodded once before putting his helmet back on. Before I could step away, he reached out to touch my hand again. “Hey. You did everything right, ok? You drew attention, and you kept him off until I got there. You have nothing to be ashamed of. Got it?”

I nodded slowly, stepping back a bit. “… ok.”

“Good. Now, get inside.” He waited there, watching me. Only after the building's front door was closed and locked did I hear his motorcycle speed away.

Next ->

Divider by: @saradika

Taglist: @jawdropforkpop

(If you would like to be added to the taglist feel free to let me know!)

[emeritusemeritus]

hello! absolutely love your writing and so happy to find someone who likes the weasley twins too! :D if it’s not too much trouble, i’d like to request a little drabble with fred where the reader adopts a ginger cat and fred finds it funny? thank you! <3

Hi Anon! Thank you so much, we are all definitely Weasley Twin lovers over here! It’s my pleasure, this was really fun to write 😂 hope you enjoy! 🖤

Warnings: minor sexual references, brief talk of curses, fluff and humour, a million ginger jokes, mentions of future kids.

Word count: 1.1k

Ginger Root

"Hey baby," Fred shouts out as he steps through the door to the flat above the shop on his lunch break, instantly loosening his tie and popping open the top shirt button that was slowly choking him.

He briefly waits for you to reply but hears nothing, so he goes looking for you. He's hoping that you'd made him something to eat for his dinner, though of course he didn't expect it if you. The shop had been ridiculously busy this last week and the thought of having to stand and make something to eat in his break hour seemed too far of a stretch for him. He's also hoping for a cuddle, needing to feel you back in his arms for a little while whilst he can, and even more hopefully he wonders if he can convince you to cuddle naked, horizontally on the bed.

He freezes upon walking into the living room, seeing a single ginger cat sat proudly on his sofa. It's comical almost how he freezes at seeing the seemingly harmless cat, looking around the empty flat as if there's an audience waiting for his reaction that he was being pranked.

He walks slowly over to the cat, approaching it with as much caution as he would a hippogriff, squatting down beside the content kitty that barely flicks it's eyes over to the intruder, sitting pride of place in Fred's usual spot.

"Okay," Fred says seriously to the cat, their faces only inches apart as he gives the kitty a questioning look, attempting to level with the feline. "You've either been cursed or you've never told me you were an animagus in the, what, 10 years we've been together?" He waits a moment for any feedback from the cat but hears nothing.

"Give me a little meow if you've been cursed and I'll fix it right away."

"Meow."

You laugh as Fred jumps at your sudden noise, falling back onto his haunches after losing his balance in surprise, arms scrambling to stop himself and failing miserable, which only adds to the hilarity of the situation.

"Godric woman," he grumbles, mock-clutching his heart as he gets up using the coffee table as leverage. He looks towards you and you smile widely seeing his heated cheeks, the look in his eyes devilish as he seeks revenge, especially as he eyes what you're wearing.

You're leaning on the doorframe, wrapped in a fluffy white towel fresh from the shower and enjoying every second of seeing Fred recover from your unplanned prank. His eyes are focused on your towel, the little tuck hidden within the slope of your breasts and the smirk on his face looks almost dangerous as you try and figure out his next move.

"But your lunch!" You squeal as he lunges as you, lips first attacking your neck.

"It can wait," he mumbles, finding his roaring appetite for food suddenly replaced by something else.

"So you found him, or her?"

"Him... I think," you say, pulling a fresh Tshirt on as Fred buttons up his shirt, leaving the tie off for now.

"He was shivering in a box next to the leaky cauldron... I couldn't leave him there Freddie." You hoped Fred wouldn't be mad, that he'd understand your desperate need to rescue the poor little kitty.

"I know sweetheart," he says with a small smile, eyes gentle with understanding.

You walk ahead of Fred as you both made your way back to the living room, pausing briefly to scratch the little sleepy cat on the sofa before you stepped into the kitchen to pull yours and Fred's pre-made lunch out of the fridge. He kisses you as a way of thanks as you both take a seat on the unoccupied sofa and eat the lunch you'd prepared earlier.

"Have you named him yet?" Fred says, taking a massive bite out of his sandwich, hardly able to talk with his mouth full of food. You pull a face of disgust for a moment at his lack of eating etiquette but drop it once you look upon the cute cat app curled up on the other sofa.

"Not yet, still thinking of options," you say, mentally running through the admittedly short list of monikers you'd come up with on the way home.

"Well with that hair he's definitely a Weasley," Fred beams, "very on brand."

"Think your mum will knit him a jumper for Christmas? Or a little scarf?" You joke, earning a snort of laughter from your boyfriend as his delighted face takes another large bite, thankfully not speaking through this one.

"What shall we name you little Weasley?" You say, looking upon your new friend.

"Well it can't be George, s'got two ears," Fred mumbles through a devilish smirk.

"Fred!" You say, scandalised by his words, though you can hardly contain your chuckle that follows only moments later.

"What about Minerva?" You can, casting your eyes towards Fred to watch his reaction, seeing him nearly choke on the last bite of his sandwich at your suggestion.

"Marmalade? Keeping with the ginger theme."

"Garfield?"

"Eh?" Fred frowns, missing the joke entirely.

"It's a muggle thing.. oh! Thomas O'Malley!"

Again Fred gives you a bewildered stare that makes a giggle slip out of you.

"Muggle film, the ginger cat. We could name him after him!  Abraham Delacey Giuseppi Casey Thomas o malley... Weasley."

"Or we could not," Fred says blankly.

"Ron?" You ask, trying to glance at the cat's face to see what else would spring to mind.

"No, it's too clean," Fred jokes, nodding his head towards the cat.

"Squash? Cheddar? Pumpkin?"

"Stop naming food!" Fred calls out with a laugh before he pauses, clearly thinking. "Wait I like pumpkin! Pumpkin Weasley?"

"Our first child," you joke, throwing your legs over his as you lean back on the sofa. You knew he'd have to be going back to work soon so you'd take what you could get.

"Great we can name our children after root vegetables," Fred says with a mock roll of his eyes, big hands coming up to stroke your legs as he pulls them deeper into his lap.

"Ginger's a root vegetable, they'd fit right in," you beam, looking at your boyfriend's fiery locks, secretly hoping that whatever children you'd have would share this certain characteristic.

"Oh yeah! Meet the twins, parsnip and turnip," he jests, laughing as your eyes widen in horror at his words, knowing that it would be just your luck to get your own mini version of George and Fred.

"Who said anything about twins?!"

"Maybe we'll just stick with the cat then," he smirks, joining your gaze towards your new best friend, realising that it might not be a bad thing after all to expand your family.

"We'll start with Pumpkin."

[ronearoundblindly]

I have an idea for “how would…” !

It comes from a prank I’m seeing on tiktok lately of couples staying in a hotel room with 2 beds.

How would the guys react to reader saying they can sleep in separate beds tonight? 😆

Inspo: https://www.tiktok.com/t/ZP81dBS8k/

That's freaking hilarious, the link, but we've got lots of babes to cover! (Also...guess who realized Jake was missing from the banner? 😳👈 This doof.)

Warnings for, well, discussing couples and bed/bedtime activities but it's not real bad. MINORS DNI to be safe!

James Mace

You know what's tiny? A space bunk. He will starfish like a mothaf**ker on that queen size, and you gotta just give him that from time to time. If the stay in the hotel is just one night (and there's been no other time away from you recently), absolutely he will stretch out, pillows everywhere, each limb under a separate layer,--seriously though why are there nine layers of blankets and sheets? that's nuts--and no alarm if at all possible. However, if the stay is longer or the hotel is for a specific couple's vacation thing, then no, he would never spend a whole night outside of your bed. Maybe a nap after too much sun, or likely some space if he (or you) is feeling ill, but otherwise, Mace is very good at sharing resources with people he likes.

Curtis Everett

Oof. I really had to think about this guy. Some of Mace applies here, too, but Curtis likes the idea of having extra room far more than he likes using the room. I think he would try to fall asleep in the other bed for whatever reason, and then inevitably just crawl back in with you. He has never made it a whole night away, even if he falls asleep on the couch at home. He always has to be within arm's reach by the time you wake up.

Jimmy Dobyne

No. Nope. Not in the slightest.

He doesn't particularly like waste, so he might call down to see if there is a room with just one bed available, in case some other guests could use the two. Jimmy also hates the fuss of cleaning. He's acutely aware of how much effort would go into remaking the second bed (washing, etc) and won't even put things on top of the unused bed for the whole stay. Not your bag. Not your butt. Not a towel. Nada.

Johnny Storm

Few quick questions: this hotel is fireproof, right? The bedding, okay, but what about the carpet? The curtains? Are the headboards made of wood? Is the varnish flammable? You don't know? Shit, well, he needs to know.

I feel like Johnny has to have like a special tarp thing to lay over normal bed linens, but honestly, I can't really see how he's ever safe to sleep outside of his own customized bedroom. People do not have complete control while they are unconscious. That's super dangerous for folks like Johnny. Reed's fine because what's the worst that could happen, his foot actually hangs off the edge of the mattress? If we were talking about Ben, the weight-capacity would be a concern, too, so even if you are fine to sleep in the same bed as Johnny and sometimes get burned a bit...I...I'm just not convinced a hotel would want extraneous furniture in there.

That's not a sexy answer, but it's the one you're getting.

Jake Jensen

Dude can fall asleep any. where. any. time. However, if he is lucid enough to pick where he'll fall asleep, it will always be with you...

...after hysterically jumping around like a kid on the extra bed.

I'll just, yeah, leave you with that image. Have fun. Stay weird, Jake.

Lloyd Hansen

If you two are actively doing something--yes, of course, I mean sex or sexual acts or whatever nasty word Lloyd wants to call it--then you are in the same...general area. That's not limited to a bed.

For sleeping, real sleeping, separate beds are 99% of the time a must. There is one exception to this: if Lloyd has been worn out or injured badly on a job--which is so rare--and if it's not quite bad enough to be in a hospital hooked to machines to keep him alive, then he becomes a sort of energy leech and keeps you very close all the time. This is Lloyd's vampire phase. As you can probably deduce, it is not about you, but he will take whatever he can from you.

Ari Levinson

50/50. Ari is moody. He changes with the wind (not in a bad way but for all the small, subtle stuff), and he sometimes just fancies a bit of something different. Take that as you will--and by that I mean run with it because I am totally talking about all sorts of different things to do in bed. He's the type of man who does better with a bit of alone time, too. Never means any offense by it. Just has spells of needing socializing and needing quiet.

Ransom Drysdale

Literally, I feel like I always have the same answer for Ran: it depends on when this is in your relationship and what the hotel stay is for.

Early on in dating, he aires on the side of caution and goes by his mood and yours. If there's been frustration in the day--due to his family or work or anything--then maybe you need some space. When Ransom is in a relationship, for real, he's actually very attuned to the tone of sex--which, of course, will happen no matter the mood of the day--so a lot of connection and intimacy will tell him it's good to stay close while a simpler, transactional need to get off tells him the other bed might be best.

Ran, however, would not get--or enjoy--the 'prank' of this challenge, and stop goddamn filming him for tiktok!

Steve Rogers

Pardon my language, but are you fucking kidding? The look on Steve's face if you so much as hinted... His head would immediately be spinning with 'what did I do wrong?' and 'what romantic gesture can I make right here right now to fix it?'

He's a simple man, and that is a simple no.

Bucky Barnes

Trickier. Much trickier.

Hmm. How to explain...

This feels like a whole season of 'What If...?' but I'll try to simplify.

Are you an Avenger or agent? Are you two on a mission together? I think Bucky is hardcore about keeping sharp and professional during those times. Sleep shifts. Minimal touching. The whole nine yards because safety is paramount. Is there some reason there could be surveillance of you two and you're supposed to be a couple? Bucky can put on one hell of a show like that. Just saying. I doubt, however, that he would mix business and pleasure unless absolutely necessary.

Are you a civilian? Is he a civilian now? Then no, he's in that one bed holding you until the second (maybe third) snooze cycle rings on his alarm. He's notorious for giving himself cushions of time, so it's never him needing to rush out on the average day. It took a while to adjust, but Buck can now also vacation with the best of them. Takes advantage of all the bells and whistles: minibar, room service, and the 'do not disturb' sign. Champion vacationer, he is, of this I have no doubt.

Thank you for asking!

A/N: Mace is a sleeper fave of mine, and I would do anything for that man, I swear... Also, would someone like to tell me why Bucky gets soooo 🥵 in all of these. My god, what am I feeding that boi?

[Main Masterlist; Who Would...Asks; Ko-Fi]

[changingplumbob]

Shay McClain - Hopeful Bachelorette

Entry for Mad About Dodo by @akitasimblr

Tell us a bit about yourself. What do you do to keep busy? How would your friends describe you?

Okay, well, hi, I'm Shay. I never really fit in at school so after graduation while all my classmates headed to university I wanted something different. I've always liked making stuff so I was looking at getting into carpentry and then one of my dads had the best idea. They both know I love adventure and exploring so they suggested I travel and volunteer with organizations like Habitat for Humanity. I do a bit of carpentry when I'm home to keep the funds up. But yeah I travel the world getting to see cool places, surfing and mountain climbing, and putting my hands to good use making homes for people. Most of my friends are people I've met through that and they'd probably say I'm confident, my dads would probably say over confident, have a passion for making things, especially out of junk but in my defense people throw a lot away too quickly, and... just... a lust for life. But have you looked around? There's beauty in everything.

And why have you applied for Mad About Dodo?

My dad's are worried I'll die alone so have been trying to sort out a way for me to meet people, of course they can't exactly organize a blind date for me when we're in different continents. Don't get me wrong, I would like love in my life, it's kind of the piece that's missing you know. Anyway they sent me the entry details and I have to admit, Dodo is cute. Not that I would just apply because of an attractive person but I was reading about how he's tried other challenges before and I admire his perseverance to keep trying. That's what we have to do at the job sites. So if he's looking for someone to sweep him off his feet I'll do my best.

What do you think of your outfits?

I'm happy they're not just draping us in leaves and calling it a day. I think we've managed to pull together some stuff that'll fit in on an island. But why did we do a cold weather outfit? Aren't islands warm?

How do you see yourself getting on with other competitors?

I've honestly no idea. But I can tell you right now they better keep their pranks away from me. Seriously, a joke that's made at the expense of someone else isn't a joke. Learn how to be funny without punching down.

If you're the kind of person that can spot the good things in life I think we'll get on. I do hate small talk though, let's get to the good juicy stuff! Life's too short to be commenting on the weather constantly.

Tell us about some of your likes and dislikes

Well like I said I really like making stuff. I enjoy fabricating but my favourite is when I can carve stuff like sculptures or furniture. I'm also big into fitness, I like to keep myself in shape. I like yoga to even if I can't balance right half the time.

Dislikes... juice fizzing. I'm not going to go into detail but I had a bad experience. Mischief obviously, I'll crack jokes anytime you like but don't expect me to tie you to a voodoo doll. Programming is also something I just find boring as well as research, so it really is best that I didn't go to university.

What are you looking forward to?

Getting to know Dodo. Hopefully he can be more than a friend. I'm also looking forward to testing out my survival skills. I think they're pretty good with the work I've done but you never know until you're in the situation I guess. But yeah, mainly getting to see if this guy is the one for me, if I can be the one for him.

What are you dreading?

Sunburn! And walking around not realizing I've been pooped on by a bird.

I know most people would probably say lack of bedding and plumbing but I've gone without them before, I can handle going without them again.

Do you have a message for Dodo?

Hey Dodo, if you want someone who can work wonders with their hands I'm here *laughs* No, I'm kidding, please don't tell him I said that. Umm... Hi Dodo, I'm looking forward to building this next part of my life with you in it. See you on the island!

Download SFS

[moonlightswritingandstuff]

The Case of Rachel Elizabeth Dare

Rachel Elizabeth Dare is an enigma. Leo thinks that she's made up. Hazel and Bianca throw their lot in with her being a goddess. Nico swears it's a coincidence. And so on and so forth. No one knows who - or what - Rachel Elizabeth Dare is. And so they meet to discuss it. (It's a crackfic. Don't take this summary too seriously.)

for best results, read on ao3!

trigger warnings: the COVID-19 pandemic is referenced

[TRANSCRIPT OF THE MEETING OF JULY 6TH, 2052 (as estimated), as recorded by Grover Underwood]

ANNABETH CHASE, OWL: That exhausts our list. Are there any other concerns to be made?

LEO VALDEZ, MECH: Yes, Head Councilwoman. I bring the Case of Rachel Elizabeth Dare. I believe she is not real and never as been; you must surely be playing a prank on me!

PERCY JACKSON, SEASTAR: Rachel is real! We've all seen her! Except Leo, of course.

OWL: I agree. Rachel is real; she is also immortal.

NICO DI ANGELO, SKELETON: No, it's just a coincidence. I think you're lying about seeing her in the Hadrian period, at least.

HAZEL LEVESQUE, GEMSTONE: I saw what I saw! And it's not just a coincidence! She's got to be a god.

SHADOW: Perhaps even God Himself.

(GEMSTONE, SKELETON's sister, sputters. SKELETON is notably Catholic despite his time travelling. But who are we to judge?)

BIANCA DI ANGELO, SHADOW: She's pretty enough to be a god. I agree with Hazel.

(And there's the third member of our sibling trio. Bianca is not as religious as Nico, and prefers pissing him off, anyway.)

SKELETON, increasingly frustrated: That's only because you like to kiss her.

SHADOW: Guilty as charged, I suppose.

OWL: Wait, guys, we need a spreadsheet. Leo's under 'nonbeliever'-

MECH: Nonbeliever!?

OWL: Shut up. Percy, you're-

SEASTAR: Immortal.

OWL: Great. Me too. Nico is under coincidence, and Hazel and Bianca are under goddess.

GEMSTONE: Well, Nico's wrong. How can there be a bunch of identical people named Rachel Elizabeth Dare? In places no one should be named Rachel Elizabeth Dare, no less!

MECH: I still think you guys are lying!

SKELETON: Shut up, Leo.

MECH: Hey!

GROVER UNDERWOOD, PANCRIER (and your transcriptor): Put me down under fellow unregistered time traveller.

OWL: How can she be an unregistered time traveller? Plus, if she was, she'd stay far away from us registered time travellers?

PANCRIER: Bianca was the first to see her, right? Maybe Rachel developed a crush and decided that the rest of us were safe.

SHADOW: Come on! We're not dating or even remotely involved!

GEMSTONE, dryly: Stop lying. I walked in on you making out with her in a closet!

SKELETON: Can't believe Bianca's cheating on the Rachels with other Rachels.

GEMSTONE: They're the same person! And why are you judging me for dating a god!

MECH: so you are dating. Or is this just a cover-up for the fact that Bianca can't get a date.

GEMSTONE: Shut up!

DREW TANAKA, MIRROR: I've met her. We went shopping for makeup and dresses.

MECH: So she talks to you and not me!?

MIRROR: It's because I'm better than you.

SHADOW: Drew's right.

MECH: I hate you all. Why am I here?

OWL: You couldn't live without us.

SEASTAR: Also, I'm the only person who can surpass your sarcastic genius.

MECH, notably sarcastic: Of course. How will I ever catch up?

PANCRIER: We are part of a dignified organization. We are part of a dignified organization.

GEMSTONE, SHADOW, OWL, and SEASTAR: of course.

PANCRIER: I should quit.

SEASTAR: I'd miss you, though.

PANCRIER: Never mind. I will not quit.

MIRROR: Sap.

OWL: Shut up, Drew.

MIRROR: Why do I go to these meetings, anyway?

OWL: Because Piper quit.

MIRROR: Piper never had to handle a deadly situation in her life.

OWL: But you're... you.

SHADOW: Enough about my love life. What about Annabeth and Drew's?

OWL and MIRROR, simultaneously: No.

SEASTAR: Perhaps we should not discuss this, dear cousin of mine.

[SHADOW rolls her eyes. GEMSTONE pats her on the back.]

SKELETON: I'm going to the bathroom.

[SKELETON leaves.]

OWL: He's not coming back, is he?

MIRROR: No, of course not. I would leave, too, but you need someone with a head on their shoulders.

PANCRIER: What about me?

MIRROR: You also have a head on your shoulders. But I cannot confine you to this duty alone, hon.

PANCRIER: Sure.

[PANCRIER would like to note that he is the only sane person here.]

MECH: Anyway, back on topic, Festus tells me that he has seen Rachel, but only when I have to leave him behind. Can't believe you guys have manipulated him.

PANCRIER: We haven't. Besides, I think Rachel has powers of prophecy.

OWL: The only power people have is time travel, from experience.

PANCRIER: Yeah but consider. Also, I have my codename for a reason?

OWL: Yeah, it's because you have an extraordinary loud scream.

PANCRIER: Extraordinary is close enough to magic, isn't it?

OWL: Also, prophecy could be explained by the actual time travel.

PANCRIER: What if she's a clone? And she's cloned herself a million times? And that's why she's everywhere?

SEASTAR: Or she could have a way to track us and use it for mischief.

SHADOW: Thus supporting Hazel's and my goddess theory.

MIRROR: Yeah, I buy that.

[OWL jots that down on her table.]

MIRROR: But we should also ask everyone else. Because there's like forty of us.

OWL: Thirty-nine, actually.

MIRROR: I said 'like forty', not actually forty.

OWL: Semantics.

MECH: I still think you guys are pulling a Goncharov.

SEASTAR: Goncharov? I haven't heard of that before.

MECH: A relic of the 2020s, during the COVID-19 pandemic, you know? This blogging site that went kind of archaic - still active though, like a cockroach - found some fake movie label called Goncharov, produced by this Martin guy. Anyway, they went kind of insane.

PANCRIER: Ooh, I did an essay in high school about it.

SEASTAR: Why?

PANCRIER: You know, early internet stuff. Very interesting.

OWL: Eh, I'm more of a mid-late internet person, before the complete purge of the internet in- you know what? This isn't relevant.

[OWL is getting a little frustrated. Honestly, I don't know how she always sticks to a schedule. Also, OWL notably does not like Rachel Elizabeth Dare.]

SHADOW: We should give Rachel a codename.

GEMSTONE: Seconded.

SEASTAR: Thirded.

MECH: Fourthed.

PANCRIER: That's not a word.

MECH: Neither is pancrier, cry me a river.

SEASTAR: I, for one, propose the codename RED.

MIRROR: That's the stupidest code name I've ever heard.

SEASTAR: Have a better idea?

[MIRROR remains silent.]

GEMSTONE: What about Bianca's True Love? We can call her BTL for short.

SHADOW: First off, I object that nickname. Second off, BTL sounds way too close to BLT.

GEMSTONE: Which is your favourite sandwich.

SHADOW: And?

MIRROR: Actually, I have an idea. ORACLE, for her proposed prophecy powers. And because it sounds cool.

SEASTAR: Wouldn't that be an issue due to the Oracle not being allowed to date?

SHADOW: It will not, because no one's dating the Oracle.

MIRROR: Did that just come up in conversation? You're my best friend, Bianca, and I can't believe that you don't realize she's flirting with you.

SHADOW: She's not flirting with me. I asked, like a normal person.

GEMSTONE: Why did you ask?

OWL: Guys, we can't keep talking about SHADOW's admittedly disastrous love life. Personally, I like ORACLE.

MIRROR: Because it's a good codename.

SEASTAR: All who like ORACLE, say aye?

MIRROR, OWL, GEMSTONE, SHADOW, and PANCRIER: Aye.

SEASTAR: All who dislike ORACLE, say nay?

SEASTAR and MECH: Nay.

MIRROR: See, this is why you benefit from my genius. Ow!

[SEASTAR has kicked MIRROR's leg under the table. All laugh, except MIRROR.]

OWL, regaining her composure: Meeting adjourned. I am exhausted, and will have a cup of tea.

End transcript.

[avesmonster]

let's talk about KEPLER i have a theory that he got the eccentric half of his personality from jacobi. because he acts totally different depending on who he's talking to. first of all:

the way cutter says this implies that kepler never jokes around with them. he's like "YOU'VE got to be kidding cause that's nothing like kepler at all" even though we've all heard kepler tell that fuckign pig joke and also just about everything else he says in s3

and we know he's scared of cutter (this is when the sol manifests out of nothign)

and that he's ALWAYS been scared of cutter. throwback to kansas

so it makes sense he wouldn't be all silly goofy around Scary Man Number One (he also doesn't seem to be very unafraid of pryce. not even rachel is unafraid of pryce but that's a different topic). so he's only silly when he's COMFORTABLE...... and that said i'll circle back around to this later

first thing with jacobi i wanna point out is that he was the one who taught kepler questions only. which seems to be the best thing that has ever happened to kepler why is he so enthused about this game

and then at the end of no complaints

this really makes it sound like jacobi pranks kepler all the time but it's totally unthinkable that Kepler would ever prank him back. Jacobi is so astonished by this (and idk what the Duck Thing was but. whatever it is it apparently wasn't a prank)

anyway it would make sense that jacobi plays around at work a lot because. his profile literally says he does

and kepler seems to highly value this trait of jacobi's. first by enjoying his sarcasm and then when he tells eiffel that jacobi is a smart man for telling eiffel to lighten up

and all the way up to dirty work, kepler is his usual silly and irritating self. even when he's taken captive and down a hand, he keeps joking around. and playing twenty questions with people. and overall being a smug little jackass

until... dirty work happens. and something shifts in kepler. something MAJOR because once jacobi turns on him, his whole demeanor and brain chemistry changes in under 24 hours

he's completely serious after this. he has a few bantery lines but otherwise, he's all business, and he's SCARED, and he's not interested in joking around with anyone anymore. he's stuck pretending to be on cutter's side and that means he has to act NORMAL--apparently his "normal" doesn't include being a silly little man

and like,, he honest to god didn't think jacobi was upset with him. which is a whole other thing i could talk about but for the purposes of this argument, it really is the Exact Moment that he realizes he lost jacobi's support that his personality makes the shift. when he still THOUGHT jacobi was on his side, even after getting his ass kicked by everyone on the station and bob, after being completely humiliated he STILL acts smug and unserious. like i cannot overstate the shift that happens in this man during dirty work i really can't

so going back to kansas. which is the only scene we have of him before he met jacobi. he was very rigid, nervous, and angry. and that's ALL he was. also

he's just a man who wants to be taken seriously. apparently

which,, the life he built came at a pretty ridiculously steep cost. so yeah, i guess he WOULD want to be taken seriously. it's not like he has anything else

he's an empty shell. he's a manipulator, too--he knows how imitate people around him to make them comfortable. He emulates Cutter to the point of making his job his whole personality. It's not out of the question that he would pick up some personality traits from jacobi, the man who's been glued to his side for six years. especially when he's around jacobi and he's having fun. jacobi likes having fun!! so kepler can do that too!! he can imitate people and be just like a real boy!!

going back to no complaints once more, kepler is all business that whole time. other than when he gets really excited about questions only. and of course when it was revealed it was all a prank--even then he didn't do any kind of big reveal, he just?? "Yes I Pranked You" RIGID. happy though :) and that was only one year into knowing each other. he likes the games jacobi taught him and he liked playing that prank and he liked planning a,, frankly EXCESSIVE first anniversary party with his subordinate but i digress, he's still kinda flat in no complaints but it seems like he's having a bit of a shift?? he's having fun with jacobi. he doesn't have fun with anyone else--not really, not when jacobi isn't somewhere in the same building and on his side

and since jacobi has a whole philosophy about "work shouldn't be separate from play," it's implied that he plays pranks on kepler, and implied that he's always getting into trouble--idk, to me it really feels like kepler absorbed some of jacobi's personality over the years. for funsies <3

thanks for coming to my kepler talk he's all i ever think about

[toujokaname]

Game master / Episode 16

Author: Akira

Characters: Kohaku, Hiiro, Aira, HiMERU

"Yes. HiMERU hates incompetence. It's pointless to get involved, and therefore a waste of time."

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[ Read on my site for a better viewing experience using Ois~su ♪ ]

Season: Winter

Location: Amagi's House

A few minutes later. In a room of the mansion, the final checkpoint of the courage test.

Kohaku: I took a lil look around the mansion.

Still, no soul in sight... Checked some nearby houses too, but they were all empty.

And that feelin' I've been havin' for a while's gone, too. What the hell's goin' on here?

Hiiro: This is truly an abnormal situation.

Before we knew it, everyone in this Amagi Village vanished. While we were following the designated route, they all disappeared without a trace.

Just like the staff of the paranormal program we heard about in the ghost story, they've all gone missing.

Aira: W-What's going on? Seriously, what's happening?

Is it because I called this place a backward village and made fun of it? Did I trigger the wrath of the Amagi God(?) of the Amagi Village and cause them to be spirited away or cursed?!

Hiiro: Calm down, Aira. This should be another phenomenon that can be explained rationally, logically.

The universe is governed by the laws of physics. There are no such things as apparitions.

HiMERU: HiMERU agrees with you as well.

Hiiro: Umu, I think Nii-san would also agree. He's a logical person, after all.

HiMERU: Then allow HiMERU to retract his prior statement and say that he has a different opinion from you.

Hiiro: Wait, why though?

Kohaku: Hehe. Still, we got caught up in somethin' strange, didn't we...?

Of course, this is part of the scripted setup by the producers, but doesn't it feel like more than just a prank?

Aira: I just don't get it... Even if it's a prank, it's being dragged out too long, and I can't grasp the intention at all.

I seriously think we got caught up in some inexplicable phenomenon.

Hiiro: Even apparitions must have some logic. Ghosts may be impossible, but the ones described in ghost stories remain in this realm because they have some kind of lingering attachments.

What could ghosts, or rather, apparitions, stand to gain by pushing us into such circumstances?

Aira: Like I said, it's a curse! We probably angered some divine entity by accidentally breaking a taboo in this backward village!

That's why we're being put in this scary situation! That's how it is, isn't it?!

Hiiro: Umm. We don't really worship any particular deity in my hometown, and so far we haven't broken any taboos to warrant such severe punishment...

Well, I mean, by inviting strangers from outside into our secluded homeland, we've already broken a taboo.

But if that were the case, we would've all been cursed as soon as we set foot in this village.

Aira: So, what's the deal? Explain it so that even an idiot can understand!

Kohaku: Ahaha, Rabu-han's like Crazy:B's Niki-han, huh.

Aira: Chances are you're not complimenting me, are you, Kohakucchi?!

Hiiro: Basically, this situation is highly unnatural. There's no logical explanation, it's too nonsensical.

To put it bluntly, it's a mess.

HiMERU: —Well, HiMERU's viewpoint does differ slightly.

Hiiro: ? What do you mean, HiMERU-san?

HiMERU: HiMERU has long harbored a certain suspicion.

He kept quiet until now, since he was warned in no uncertain terms by Rinne just before arriving here. Yes, HiMERU's nature is that of a person with a strong sense of duty who properly keeps his promises.

Kohaku: Settin' aside your usual self-praise, what's this suspicion about?

HiMERU: It's about that person called Akan.

Aira: Ahh, the producer in charge of Matrix?

I sorta sympathized, being an underachiever who got ridiculed by everyone.

HiMERU: Right. That AkanP is the organizer of this series of events, Matrix. The starting point of all the occurrences woven within this narrative.

And yet, for some reason, there's a bizarre lack of presence exhibited.

Like a ghost, hm?

Such incompetence is far too profound to allow for any meaningful actions—HiMERU thought that might be the reason.

Essentially, AkanP is no more than a mere faceless background character in this story.

Kohaku: Some brutal words ya got there... Well, HiMERU-han's been gettin' real irritated with that person, so I reckon his language's takin' a rough turn.

HiMERU: Yes. HiMERU hates incompetence. It's pointless to get involved, and therefore a waste of time.

"I've" spent my whole life discarding such worthless people without a second thought.

I thought that was the correct course of action. In fact, it's precisely because I carelessly reached out a helping hand to a completely useless fool that I—

Kohaku: Huh? HiMERU-han, talkin' in first person? That's rare.

HiMERU: —Pardon. Anyway, what HiMERU wanted to say is that AkanP is excessively incompetent.

Kohaku: Ain't that goin' too far? I guess Anzu-han's support was a factor, but Matrix seems to be gettin' a pretty good reception for what's been shown, right?

So, wouldn't ya call the project a success?

HiMERU: That's true. Perhaps that was unexpected for the mastermind behind this sequence of events—the culprit.

Kohaku: Culprit, ya say?

HiMERU: Originally, it was intended to be a much sloppier and utterly hopeless event. This Matrix, hardly anyone even took notice of it...

In other words, it didn't matter whether it succeeded or failed; it was meant to be an insignificant program.

Kohaku: Nah, ain't Matrix supposed to be a major event wrappin' up ES's first year? At least, that's the official story, right...?

HiMERU: What if that was just an excuse contrived retroactively?

The much-anticipated big event turned into a sucky project all because of the useless producer named Akan—

Kohaku: "Sucky"... Sometimes you talk real eccentric, HiMERU-han.

HiMERU: —And yet, contrary to that, was there not a fundamentally flawed plan to begin with?

However, with Anzu-san's involvement, that plan turned into something remarkably engaging.

As a result, ES took notice, and Matrix became a major event wrapping up the first year of ES.

Hiiro: In other words, according to HiMERU-san's conjecture, the order of events was reversed.

[ ☆ ]

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[wheredidalltheusersgo]

The Stranded and The Scaly.

Chapter 12: The Boy who cried Gator.

Day 8

Scott tore though the woods, refusing to stop to catch his breath or look behind him. He didn't care where he was going, as long as it was away from that fucking monster in the woods.

The ginger boy gasped for air as he ran, stumbling as he shoved through low-hanging branches and bushes. How long had that thing been there, and why did it look so humanoid? Could it have been an unlucky intern? No, none of that mattered. Scott had to tell the others! That thing was big enough to pick them all off one by one and eat them!!

Scott emerged from the forest, covered in dirt and scratches. He saw his castmates standing near the dock and rushed over, but he tripped over a rock and landed flat on his face in front of them.

"False alarm, campers! Scott is NOT dead as we all thought! He's all gross-looking like a corpse, though." Chris cackled. "Anyways, let me finish explaining your challenge for today!"

"No, no, no!! Wait a second!!" Scott quickly got to his feet.

"I need to tell you guys something! We are all in DANGER."

"Scott, we've been in danger since we set foot on this island. Our situation can't get much worse." Mike rolled his eyes, clearly not amused by whatever prank Scott might be pulling.

"Please, this is serious!" Scott pleaded.

"Hey, maybe we should listen to dust bunny over here." Jo pointed out.

The campers turned their attention to Scott, waiting to hear what he had to say. Chris tapped his foot impatiently and scowled at the ginger.

"I saw something in the woods, it was a mutant!"

"Seriously, Scott? We KNOW there are mutants on this island. Seeing some weird critter in the woods is old news." Zoey looked a little annoyed.

"No, it was HUGE, and green, a-and scaly!!"

"Congrats, you saw a big, nasty swamp gator. Whoop whoop, everyone give Scott a round of applause for his excellent observations!" Chris spoke in a mocking tone, clapping his hands slowly.

Scott's face flushed bright red from embarrassment as he shoved his hands in his pockets and took his place in the line of campers. How stupid of him to think that the others would actually believe him, he was known for lying and scheming! Scott desperately looked at Jo and Lightning, they'd believe him, right? Maybe?

Wrong. Jo glared at him and shook her head, Lightning didn't even glance at him. Well, sucks to be them. If they went into the forest, they'd be toast. Scott had the upper hand here.

Geoff cautiously wandered the forest with the baby gopher in his arms. What did gophers eat, anyways? Were they herbivores or omnivores? He regretted not paying attention in biology class, he didn't know that info would actually come in handy! The gopher sniffled and squirmed in his arms, it was getting hard to hold on to that thing. Geoff knelt down and carefully placed the animal on the ground. The gopher immediately began to sniff the ground and waddle around. Did it know something he didn't? Geoff watched as the gopher stopped and started burrowing into the ground, it seemed to be searching for something. Geoff's questions were quickly answered when the gopher pulled a large, thick root out of the ground and immediately started chowing down. The little munchkin was a herbivore, noted.

Geoff knelt next to the gopher and pet it while it ate, humming a quiet tune. He'd have to go hunt for his own meal later.

Ezekiel was panicking. Geoff was gone, he left his stuff behind, and there were signs of a cave-in. He hoped the other boy hadn't been crushed. The small mutant charged through the vast tunnels and caverns, looking for any clue as to where Geoff had gone. Without looking where he was going, he ran right off a rocky ledge into a pool of clear, blue water. Ezekiel gasped and coughed as he waded to the surface and let his vision adjust to the cave's lighting. He hadn't been in this area before, it was beautiful....

The water glowed a faint blue, along with the crystal formations along the walls, illuminating the cave to an extent.

Ezekiel instantly knew he had to show Geoff this wondrous cave. Maybe they could have a party just for the two of them.

Zeke's thoughts were interrupted when his keen eyes spotted a long, blonde hair drifting on the surface of the water.

Geoff had been here.

He had to keep looking.

He scrambled out of the water and inspected the ground for more clues. His brief inspection revealed large claw marks in the stone, these had to belong to Geoff.

Okay, all he had to do was follow the claw marks in the stone, and then he'd be able to find Geoff. Simple, right?

Ezekiel knew Geoff's scent well, and these caverns carried the faintest trace of it. Not enough to follow, but enough to know Geoff had been here. The claw marks were his biggest lead, and he needed to keep following them.

Zeke would find Geoff one way or another, he knew the mutant boy was large and powerful enough to take down any possible predators, but he couldn't save himself from being crushed by rocks. If he was too late, and if Geoff had died in a cave-in, he'd never forgive himself. Ezekiel hated to imagine Geoff's possible final moments, alone and scared as his bones were crushed by the collapsing cave walls, unable to cry out as the darkness engulfed him.

Ezekiel growled.

No, he'd find Geoff, and he would be ALIVE. He'd bring Geoff back to their cozy little cave and curl up in his arms, relaxing as the sound of Geoff's heartbeat echoes through his ears.

-------

[ishtadawnstar]

Vamp Pranks

As the warm, coppery liquid flowed down his throat, Astarion's senses heightened. He savored the taste of blood and the rush it brought him, but was abruptly pulled back to reality as he sensed a presence behind him. He quickly raised his head and spun around to face a very startled Karlach, who gasped in shock.

"Holy shit! You're a Vampire!" she exclaimed, her eyes wide with surprise.

Astarion nonchalantly wiped the blood from his mouth with a flick of his wrist, his expression daring as he raised an eyebrow. "Yes, and?"

Karlach shrugged casually, trying to play off her initial shock. "Nothing, it's all good. Just surprised me, that's all...though the pale skin and red eyes should have clued me in, I guess," she added, tilting her head as she studied him with curious fascination.

A smirk tugged at Astarion's lips as he responded with an offended huff. "Rude. For all you know, I could have been born looking like this."

"Oh gods...yeah, sorry, I didn't think..." Karlach quickly started to apologize, her face flushing with embarrassment. But then she tilted her head and gave him a lopsided grin. "Yeah, but you weren't. So don't try to make me feel guilty. But seriously, how can you be out in sunlight? Is the parasite responsible for that?"

"That's my theory, yes," Astarion confirmed with a nod, his expression softening as Ishta appeared from around the corner.

Karlach hesitantly glanced at Ishta before leaning in closer to Astarion and whispering conspiratorially, "Does she know? That you're a...you know."

Before Astarion could respond, Ishta's voice cut through their conversation with curiosity. "That he's a what?" she asked as she approached them while meticulously cleaning her scimitars with a cloth.

The setup couldn't have been more perfect.

A mischievous glint flashed in Astarion's eyes as he turned to face Ishta, hiding his amusement from Karlach. He sighed dramatically and spoke with an air of guilt and solemnity, "Oh dear, I was hoping to delay this conversation a bit longer. But there's something about me that I feel I ought to tell you."

Ishta caught on quickly, tilting her head and folding her arms in front of her with a concerned expression. "Oh yes? And what might that be?"

Beside him, Karlach fidgeted nervously as she watched the interaction. She let out a worried murmur of "Uh oh..." and Astarion struggled to maintain his composure, trying not to break into a smile.

"It's nothing big or terrible," Astarion began with feigned unease, his voice trembling for added effect. "Just a small little detail about me that hasn't come up naturally...I happen to be a - what's the best way to put this?" he paused dramatically, glancing at Karlach before continuing, "a Vampire."

He added in an nervous giggle for extra impact and couldn't resist sneaking a glance at Karlach from the corner of his eye. The Tiefling was staring wide-eyed at Ishta, anxiously waiting for her response as if bracing for a fight or flight situation.

And the Ranger did not disappoint.

With a gasp that could startle nearby birds, Ishta stepped back in shock, her hand placed dramatically over her heart. "By the Nine Hells! How could you keep such a despicable secret from me, after all we've been through together?!"

Astarion held his hands up in a pleading gesture, looking at Ishta with mock sincerity shining in his eyes as he implored, "Come now, my dear. Things haven't really changed - I'm still the same sweet, lovable rogue. My smile is just a little...sharper."

Ishta recoiled in horror, stumbling backwards with an expression of terror on her face. Astarion couldn't help but stifle a laugh at the exaggerated performance.

"Karlach, quick! Find me a stake!" Ishta cried out in panic, diving behind an overturned cart for cover. "And slather yourself in garlic!" she added desperately, peeking out from her hiding spot with wide eyes.

Astarion wrinkled his nose in disgust at the thought of being covered in the pungent herb. "I highly doubt it would stay on her... but I suppose the smell of burnt garlic is just as effective," he mused, tapping his chin thoughtfully.

Karlach watched them with wide-eyed confusion, her suspicion growing by the second as she started to put the pieces together. "Hold on a minute..." she trailed off, realization dawning on her.

"Stay back, fiend! I have Shadowheart's canteen and I'm not afraid to use it!" Ishta's laughter echoed through the air as her facade crumbled.

"Ha! Water blessed by Shar would probably make a Vampire stronger," Astarion scoffed.

Amused and slightly relieved, Karlach chuckled and shook her head, folding her arms across her chest. "All right now, you two. Joke's over." She turned to Astarion with an appreciative nod. "You got me good."

Still laughing, Ishta emerged from behind the cart and stood beside Astarion, looking up at the Teifling with bright eyes full of mirth.

Karlach regarded the two of them with a similar twinkle in her eye and grinned widely, showing off her teeth. "You know what? I think I'm going to enjoy traveling with you. I have the feeling we're gonna be good friends."

Ishta's smile widened and she nodded firmly in agreement. "I believe you're right."

And so begin the shenanigans...

[dotster001]

My first route was chevalier, i picked him because clavis wasn’t available. The only 3 that were available back then were chevalier,leon and yves so i went with chev since he was my fav out of the 3, i didnt expect to end up loving him so much. He was my favorite character in ikepri(with an eng route released) but that was until Clavis’s route came out. I have never loved someone as much as i love him. Clavis is just everything i like and want in a person and i just think hes the perfect mix of adorable and cool.i think me and chevalier never really get past the friends phase but i feel like i would really like to date clavis. I’m extroverted and bubbly,therefore it was much easier to get to know clavis. I feel like while reading chevaliers route i loved his character but i knew he wouldnt get along that well with me ,on the other hand, i knew me and clavis would actually enjoy being with each other much more. I’m not much of a prankster myself but i dont mind getting pranked and all that. I love people who can make me laugh and yet also let me feel comfortable around them. I struggle with expressing what i actually feel though, i usually just try to ignore them or joke about it so no one takes it seriously. Maybe this could be a fluff story where me and clavis find it in us to confess to each other and admit our true feelings.

(some people may say, she forgot that she was doing an event. And to those people I say, shut up. I hope you enjoy! Clavis is such a squishy boy, I can't even 😭)

A Tale Where Clavis and His Lover Finally Confess, and Chevalier is Tired

Chevalier was tired. He’d finally let someone into his heart to be a friend to him, and they were as much a simpleton as his fool brother. The signs were in front of both of you that you were head over heels for each other. Even if he wasn’t a genius, he could’ve seen it. He’d even tried to be a good friend and big brother, and point you both in the right direction. But so far…nothing.

He knew the problem too. Neither of you could express your feelings so you were waiting for the other to do it. It was exhausting.

To be fair to you, Clavis was prone to saying things like, “I know you are madly in love with me, so when we get married I'll definitely (fill in the blank with whatever ridiculous thought that day)" and "we've been dating for so long that, (fill in the blank)". You were bound to have difficulty believing any of it.  

But to be fair to Clavis, he wasn't lying when he said those things. He genuinely believed what he said about being in love with you and planning to marry you. 

Chev had tried his hardest to let you both handle things yourselves. He had watched from afar as you stared at each other when the other was looking away.  He had sat in irritated silence as you both "fought" in his private library, the romantic tension between you both palpable.

But he was done. If his two simpletons (affectionate) weren't going to give in to their emotions, he would have to make them give in.

"Good morning King Highness! It is rare to see you up and at it so early! Why have you deigned to grace us with your presence?" Clavis had arrived at the office first.

"Sit, simpleton (derogatory)" Chev nodded at one of the two chairs.

Clavis simply wandered around the office, looking at objects like a cat deciding what to knock over.

You entered shortly after.

"Morning, Prince Chevalier, oh! Clavis! Good morning to you too!" Then your eyes went wide as you turned back to Chev.

"I swear, whatever he told you, I was in my room all night. I'm not his accomplice," you said hurriedly.

"Ah! You wound me," Clavis clutched his heart.

"Sit," Chev said again.

You were such an obedient little rabbit. He liked that. Maybe there was hope that you would rub off on his brother.

Crash

Or not.

With a heavy sigh Chevalier stood up, and simply left the room, locking the door behind him.

He could hear the immediate chaos; Clavis abruptly moving to pick the lock, and you standing up and asking what was happening.

He gestured to the men he had waiting in the room next door, and watched as they placed the heavy barricades around the door; the only things that would keep Clavis in.

He heard Clavis begin to swear, and you begin to shout, so he figured it was time for a hint.

"Figure out what I want and you can leave," and then he and his men walked away.

                                    ….

Once Clavis had realized picking the lock was useless, he had turned to you with a wicked grin.

"If he's going to cage us in here like animals, it's only fair that we act like them."

A chill went up your spine.

"What…what are you planning?"

Clavis picked up an object and, for the second time today, dropped it on the floor, shattering it. You flinched, knowing where this was going.

"Clavis," you hissed through your teeth.

He picked up a pot and dropped it while making direct eye contact with you. You flinched again, and he took that opportunity to put a framed picture into your hands.

"Come on, my faithful accomplice, do it."

You stiffened and adamantly shook your head.

He hummed and walked behind you. You didn't dare make eye contact. It would only encourage him.

He pressed himself against you from behind, placing his arms and hands over yours, his breath hot on your ear.

"Drop it," he whispered as he moved your hands.

The picture dropped, and just like that, you were an accomplice again. It didn't matter that you wouldn't drop anything else. It was enough for Clavis.

                                 ….

An hour in, Clavis had destroyed nearly everything in the office. The only things intact were the paperwork, the desk, and your chairs. 

Now that everything was ruined, he was starting to eye you the way he eyed the rest of the office. You knew that look. He was getting bored and trying to decide how messing with you would entertain him. You knew that would accomplish nothing so you had to get him on track.

"What did Chev mean by "figure out what I want"?" 

Clavis groaned and laid down on the ground. 

"I don't know. He's too much of a genius for it to make sense to mere mortals like us."

"But," you hesitated, "he wouldn't lock us in here if he didn't think we could figure it out."

Clavis grunted something under his breath, before abruptly sitting up.

"The window!"

"Huh?"

"Stand back in the corner," he said, grabbing a chair.

"Huh?" You asked, more frightened this time.

"Stand in the corner," he said as he approached the window.

Figuring out what he was doing, you rushed to the corner and covered your ears, just as he swung the chair at the window.

With the glass shattered, he gave you a smug look. He approached and wrapped an arm around your waist.

He waltzed you both to the open window, and he proudly hummed, " Your handsome prince has saved you once again. I'll accept payment in the form of your adoration."

His smile suddenly dropped, and he whispered, "Damn it all to hell."

You looked down and saw Chev and a small army standing under the window, waiting for you both.

                                   ….

It was hour five, and Clavis was back to laying on the floor. He'd done a whole lot, while you tried to work out the riddle.

He'd thrown all the paperwork on Chev and his army. He'd disassembled the desk and put it back together in a meaningless blob.  He'd attempted to get you to play cards with him. He'd formulated a new chemical mixture that he refused to say what it would do.

And throughout all of it, he'd brushed off your attempts, muttering something about how no one could keep Clavis caged. You were pretty sure he was getting cabin fever or something.

You were also worried that there had been a clue, but maybe he'd accidentally destroyed it.

"Clavis, I'm getting kind of hungry. Unless Chev has a hidden supply of snacks, we should probably solve the riddle now."

He lifted his head a little, and looked at you, before laying back down and pulling something out of his pocket.

"Here, you can have this. I'll be okay for a little while."

You retrieved the thing he was handing to you, and unwrapped it to reveal a bunch of crackers.

"I'd rather we split it," you said, feeling bad for taking what was most definitely the only thing he planned to eat until dinner.

"Only if you feed it to me," you could hear the smirk in his voice.

You took a cracker and pressed it to his lips. His eyes widened, and then softened as he opened his mouth and took the cracker between his teeth.

You moved to pull away, but he grabbed your wrist and pulled you on top of him. He took one of the crackers and pressed it to your lips. Now that he was in control, his smile was smug again.

"Go on. I can't starve my accomplice," he grinned.

You did your best to ignore how he was trapping you with his other arm, and how his body heat was starting to become indistinguishable from your own, and nibbled the cracker.

He laughed, and wrapped his now free hand around you. He sighed, as he brought it up to your hair, running his fingers through it.

"You know, if we never get out of here, we'll have to figure out how to survive. Obviously, I'll be the king, cause I'm devilishly handsome, and a rogue, so you'll have to be our hunter, and catch all the game that roams the office."

"Hmm, office game is usually pretty crafty, I don't think I'll be able to catch it by myself. We may have to get some people to join our nation."

"Yeah, I bet we could get some of Chev's army to join us," he grinned. His grin turned soft, and you found yourself melting into his eyes.

"If we are stuck here, there's no one else I'd rather be stuck with." 

So soft, so vulnerable. He could be so genuine sometimes that you wanted to just cry.

"I won't lie to you, though. I have thought about locking you up before so that you could only look at me."

And other times he could be so childish.

You attempted to wriggle out of his grip, but he pouted and held you tighter.

"Hey, I just spilled my heart to you, and you're trying to flee. That's very rude."

"You're lucky I love you, or I would have fled for real a long time ago!"

Both of you froze. Then he grinned.

"You love me?"

You began struggling even more, but he ignored it, nuzzling his face in your neck.

"Finally! I've been waiting for you to fall for my charms."

"Clavis," you groaned as he mildly crushed your ribs.

"I know what you're worried about. You're worried that someone as handsome as me would have his eyes drawn to someone else. But no! My eyes are only for you!"

"Be serious," you said with an eye roll.

"I am!" He furrowed his brow. "I love you more than you can possibly love me!"

Before you could discuss anything further, you both heard a thud. You turned towards the sound, and saw that a rope ladder had been thrown through the window.

"Wait, did Chev give up?" You asked.

Clavis narrowed his eyes. "Let's get out of here so I can kill him."

And, once again, he was dragging you along after him for something you weren't sure you understood. But at least now, you could move forward with your relationship. Well, if he survived his attempt to kill Chev, that it.

[darkenforcer]

permanent plotter / rship call !

YEAH OK... i'll finally post one of these!!!

give this a like and you'll be lawfully and contractually signing up for:

dms (more specifically an introductory one to ask if you have ideas, but it's totally fine if you don't have any yet! we can always figure it out as we go)

more ic ask memes! or dropping into your inbox for funsies

...just dash interactions in general

you can still like this post if we've already thrown ideas around abt our blorbos. bc ur epic

for types of relationships, you can find a handy-dandy list to get that creativity flowing below the cut:

friends. yuri can be an aloof dingus, but this is wayyy easier than one may think. whether or not he actually acknowledges it, he's on friendly terms with a lot of people since he likes good timez -- befriending him just comes with being the target of pranks and sass, that's all. join his ever-growing list of besties...... this can also extend to passing acquaintances, though! they can poke at each other like once a month & he'd be perfectly content.

found family. yuri has a habit of accidentally adopting rowdy kids (for better or worse, depending on who you ask). that is all. seriously, though, vespy heavily revolves arnd a found family, so of course i have a bias. it's common for him to take on a big brother role, but he's still on the younger side of adulthood and makes more than enough dumb decisions to deserve a scolding from older / more experienced folk.

mercenary-based stuff. since he's a sword-for-hire, it's totally possible for him to run into people during jobs! like an unlucky bystander, potential protégé, rival merc, employer, or even... the target!? *gasp*. anyway, the sky's the limit with this one, and it doesn't have to be limited to fight scenarios (murder-y stuff's the only thing off the table, like 99% of the time)! it could be fun.

enemies/rivals. having actual enemies takes wayyy too much energy, so he definitely won't be the one putting effort into making any (not on purpose, anyway). unless your muse is the one trying to beat him up, or if they're corrupt beyond saving, yuri'll probably just ignore them lol. rivalries are more likely, considering he's pretty darn competitive and battle-obsessed. not to mention all the teasing...

romance. hm. he'll flirt w/ ppl who seem interested and all that, but most of what he says comes from a place of banter. i have my own scientifically-based headcanons that make the idea of yuri + love messy as hell (sorry), though that's mostly because there haven't been any reasons for him to confront any of it yet. in other words, it's possible for a serious ship to happen, it'd just need planning and time. aside from that, go wild with the no-strings-attached stuff!

[fateinthestars]

This fanfic is taking way longer than I think I was probably expecting. Over 10k words and not the direction I was originally intending. (Not saying that's a bad thing, just the focus is now shifting somewhat in the middle).

So I guess for tonight I'll post something else I had in mind.

Out of curiosity I screenshotted the forbidden/blessed meter on Episode 12 of all the main path storylines. (May not be fully accurate cos you know there might have been re-reads on certain ones).

I'm gonna blank out whose is whose in the collage versions below and then reveal them from most blessed to most forbidden under the cut, with maybe some thoughts about the path. Spoiler warning, obviously.

Okay then... let's see:

I wonder whether anyone can guess what order this likely is...

Well let's get into it....

(And yes I might do the sequels and stuff later - the first story made more sense right now... for one thing I've played everyone's first story now finally. My completion for the other stuff is all over the place. I may still mention things form the later parts of the story here though, just as a warning).

So let's begin with...

1. Huedhaut

Huedhaut was actually the route I played first. I initially only bought the Wishes game (it's split into two games on Switch) so only had the choice of the six Wishes Gods.

Maybe I was drawn to him as one of the calmer seeming personas from the intro (Why would you pick Leon he already tried to drop you out of the sky!) or maybe it's because Aquarius is my own star sign.

I... kinda wish I hadn't picked Hue first. Not because I don't like his route, far from it. I think it's amazing, honestly, but...

I kinda didn't want to play the other routes after. I seem to recall it was only a fleeting hesitation but, well...

The God who sacrificed some of his stars to save his lover is reunited with her reincarnation... it just seems like fate if you believe in that kind of thing.

I do wonder what poor Hue is thinking at times during the other routes.

As to his later story lines? Well as it stands right now I've only had two forbidden endings, and one is one of Hue's other stories. (Iirc I fixed it to Blessed pretty sharpish so it wasn't that far into forbidden, but I fear a rant about Clotho and the King's actions in this route later on are for another post)

=. Ichthys

Okay I admit it. I'm pretty sure one of the main reasons I grabbed Punishments part of the game before the Switch sale ended was because I really wanted to play Ikky's path. Ikky probably resonates with me a lot actually. Not so much the pranks but everything else. And there were far more feels here than I was expecting.

I do like how looking at actions in other routes can sometimes take on a different meaning after playing their main routes and Ichthys is quite present in most routes...

(Oh and as a side note, spoilers for Promise of Infinity: You can raise MC as MC, King? Well fuck you in Hue's route. Seriously, fuck you).

Talking of presence...

3. Zyglavis

Yeah we've fallen down a whole notch on the blessed meter here but Zyglavis is totally my type of character. A cold front with inner turmoil but a want to maintain the balance. I'm an Ace Attorney fan and as someone who writes Miles Edgeworth a lot, Zig seems to be becoming a large presence in the fanfics (all two of them (if you include my wip)) I've written for Star-Crossed Myth.

=. Tauxolouve

If Hue is the God that feels the most fate like of the 1st Prologue Gods, then Tauxolouve is the one that seems the most that in the 2nd Prologue.

I do wonder a little though whether the slight clumsiness at delicate work was added as an afterthought to give him some sort of flaw because he does seem pretty much perfect to possibly a ludicrous degree.

Sure the others think he's a playboy but sheesh have some of them looked in a mirror lately? Partheno, Teo, and Leon have no right to say anything.

5. Krioff

Another drop in the meter but not quite as big as the last one.

I... don't have that much to say about Krioff. There's some nice moments in his main path but I have *only* played his main path and not even read his point of view yet.

=. Partheno

Ehh. I've got a feeling with Partheno's route I went more for what I thought was needed than what my gut reaction answer would be. I don't know what I was expecting from Partheno's route but I wasn't expecting... well I wasn't expecting this.

It might explain the creepy vibe he gives in other routes but... he's a bit of an odd one. It is an interesting idea but probably felt the least natural to play to me.

=. Teorus

I think Teorus was who I played second. Years ago one of the Otome games I played was Be My Princess and he did rather remind me of the one I got furthest in the path with.

I thought on the main path he might actually be a bit lower than this. I moved away from Teo for a bit because there's a certain scene in his main path that rubbed me up the wrong way.

His later stories are mostly much sweeter though - but I still doubt he'd ever rival Hue, Ikky, Zig, or Lou. He just gets wayyy too jealous and possessive.

8. Aiginourus

Oh Ai, Ai Ai Ai. I kinda love this utter idiot. I've been making fun of him in my recent nonsense posts but it comes from a place of love.

I think what you get with him improves as the storyline goes on. Plus his sequel has a scene where I burst out laughing. Not least because I actually genuinely selected that option.

=. Karno

I really like Karno. He might even be the most 'normal' of the Gods. But... he's always been looking out for you? I'm not sure he's the one I'd pick as the love interest. Maybe I'll change my mind like I did with Teo once I've played the later stories (only on 3/13 completion with Karno).

=. Leon

Leon was the last one I played the main story for (and I've *only* played the main story). It started pretty much how I feared but I was kinda surprised at the way it progressed.

11. Dui

Poor Dui. I adore Dui, but I suppose I should not be surprised at his meter only just being in the blessed for his initial story. It feels hard to handle things correctly and that's probably intentional due to the storyline here. If my four most blessed meters in this post are my top four, Dui might actually be fifth.

12. Scorpio

This meter is actually after an (admittedly very brief) attempt to fix it. I'm finding in my recent fic that I quite enjoy writing him but I fear using the reactions I think in the game that I am not at all compatible with the Scorpion.

His favourite food being rabbit ear apples though is adorable.

Scorp's might be at the bottom by my love meter screenshots but I suspect character wise he'll end up above Krioff and Partheno, and I won't rule out the later stories pushing him past Leon.

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

I hope that gave some insight into my thoughts about the game without going too spoilery, and I don't think I truly dislike any of them. And hopefully I haven't gone too vague either, but this post is already a massive ramble ^^;;

One random thing I need to say, and it's to do with Ichthys' bonus episode: Whilst it's funny I now can no longer get out of my head what would have happened had he used those novelty Taiyaki post the events of the second prologue...

Karno adores spicy stuff, he'd have wondered what on Earth the problem was. xDDD

[night-garden-fic]

Chapter Nine: Honey, Ink, Blood

Read on AO3

"If I stay here much longer, I'm going to do something I'll regret."

Chapter Nine: Honey, Ink, Blood

     I am traveling down a shady wooded path.

     It is green and quiet here, but I already know something is terribly wrong.

     As I press on, the path narrows, and the bare branches blot out more and more of the sun.

     So I press on still, in spite of the encroaching dark.

     Something is waiting for me at the heart of this wood.

     (I know this, but I don't know how I know.  I feel as though I've forgotten something.)

     The branches begin to snag my clothes, trip up my legs, scrape against my skin.  I fight in vain to shake them off.

     (Hurry.  It's waiting for you.)

     They brush my face, and it is with great horror that I realize the branches are moving on their own; animate, thinking, haunted.

     And I think the trees are laughing at me.

~*~

     "Hrmgh..."

     Russell fought against an unusually thick caul of sleep, against his dark dream of laughing trees and living branches.

     Soon, however, the enigmatic laughter began to take on a familiar, more mischievous quality.  And, as reality gradually crept into the cracks of his troubled consciousness, he recognized the source.

     Not haunted trees, but a young boy and girl, keening with barely repressed hysterics.

     Not the sharp ends of branches, but a pair of fountain pens, poised menacingly above his face.

     Russell groaned again, and—rather clumsily—threw off the blankets and sat up in bed.  He cleared his throat, straining to speak over their laughter in his hoarse morning voice.

     "Okay, okay...  I'm up."

     The laughter only intensified.  Russell shook his heavy head; trying to clear it, but failing rather miserably.  It was, in his opinion, too early for so much silliness.

     "I don't know what this is...  Just go downstairs and wait for a few minutes, okay?  I'll figure out some breakfast."

     He slipped on his glasses, then staggered to the bathroom.  Instead of going downstairs, the children had chosen to linger in the hall, whispering and giggling all the while.  But that, he supposed, was their choice.

     Just a little cold water, and I'll wake right up...

     Russell coughed painfully, spat in the sink, and drank a few swallows of tap water from his cupped hands.  Then he straightened up, got on with brushing his teeth, and froze in shock at the sight of himself in the mirror.

     At first, he wasn't quite sure what he was looking at, but couldn't rule out some strange disease manifesting itself overnight.

     Then he dimly recalled the hovering pens, the waving nightmare branches.

     Before long, the strange marks on his face resolved themselves into a haphazard pattern of lopsided stars.  In all honesty, he felt more baffled than frustrated or angry, but still couldn't help a little indignation.  He spat out the toothpaste foam disdainfully, then wheeled around to face the open bathroom door.

     "...Seriously!?"

     Out in the hall, the kids went wild with laughter.  Their prank, apparently, had been a roaring success.

     Russell sighed as he set about washing his face; a splash of cold as planned, then a vigorous scrub with hot.  He repeated the process, just for good measure, but none of it was enough to completely wash away that galaxy of crooked little stars.  He considered going through the motions a third time, but decided to give up before he started scrubbing himself raw.

     Cursing himself for springing for the good ink, Russell backed out of the bathroom, right into his cackling tormentors.

     "Yes, yes, we've all had a good laugh at my expense.  Now let's go get something to eat."

     The children thundered down the stairs, with Russell following at a more leisurely pace, taking a mental inventory of the rather sad contents of his refrigerator.

     Surely, there must be something...  It can't have gotten that bad.

     (You know full well it's all going to shit again.)

     Thankfully, he didn't have to dwell on that for long.  A quick survey of the kitchen revealed a bowl of leftover rice, and a few eggs that had somehow escaped the previous night's massacre.

     All of this amounted to some rather inept omelet rice—the eggs stiff and falling-apart, owing to a lack of milk—which the children happily accepted; content to cover Russell's shoddy cooking, not to mention everything else, in great red gobs of ketchup.

     Russell ate slowly; taking care not to rest his arms on the table, which was still sticky with the previous night's honey. The smeared inky stars on his face and the film of sleep still coating his brain were making him feel grimy and disheveled enough as it was.

     That feeling only intensified when he noticed that the kids were both fully dressed, ready to throw on their coats and run out into the night's fresh cover of snow at a minute's notice.  In stark contrast, Russell still wore his rumpled grey pajamas, and soon realized that they weren't even buttoned straight.

     And that was precisely how he felt: rumpled, grey, crooked.  Like last night's pajamas, like the clumsy stars he couldn't wash away.  There were dead leaves in his head, and sludge in his veins.  Dejectedly, he took another bite of his omelet.

     This really isn't very good.  Poor kids.

     Even so, when breakfast was over, they both thanked him profusely, then ran for their coats, eager for the day to begin.  Russell—feeling a bit more apprehensive at the prospect—hung back in the kitchen, making a note of the mess.

     I really need to clean this place...  And get some real groceries...  Maybe I should talk to Neumann about a chair...

     ...Right.  The chair.

     As he mentally ran down his list of tasks, Russell felt the thicket of thorns closing around him again.

     At least I know how to deal with them now.

     No, you don't.  You never learned.

     (That's your whole problem.)

     Well, it's not like I can fix all that today.  It's just another quarter dose.

     (And when that becomes a half?)

     With a sigh, Russell grabbed the back of the rogue chair and dragged it back to its home behind his desk.  Then he sat down in it, watching his daughter and her friend as they used suiting up for the snow as an excuse for yet more horseplay.

     He wondered if he had ever been so carefree.

     "...Daddy!?  Can I walk Nicky home!?"

     In spite of his low mood, Russell smiled.

     "I don't see why not."

     Cecilia pulled on her hat, with an odd purposefulness that reminded Russell, for some reason, of a caver getting ready for a long expedition.

     "And can I play at the beach for a while?"

     Please stay here today.

     (Let her go.  Don't be selfish.)

     Reluctantly, Russell reminded himself that he probably wouldn't be home, either.

     "Of course.  Have fun."

     Cecilia ran to her father, wrapping him in a tight hug.

     "Thanks, daddy!"

     Before long, Nicholas had joined the pile.

     "Bye, Russell!  I had lots of fun!"

     He wrapped both children in a quick, awkward embrace.

     "You know what?  So did I.  See you later, Nicky."

     And then the two of them took off, blowing past Tori as she entered the Library to start her shift.

     She took one look at Russell's scribbled face and carelessly skewed pajamas, then broke into a shy laugh, daintily covering her mouth with one hand.  Russell sighed wearily, with a good-natured smile.

     "...Yeah, the kids got me good.  Anyway...  I have some things to take care of.  Would you mind filling in again this morning?"

     Between the unstoppable giggling and her usual stutter, Tori could barely squeak out a reply.

     "Of...  Of c-course not sir!"

     At this rate, she'll be the one running the place.

     (Well, maybe she should be.)

     "...Thanks, Tori.  You're the best.  I really mean that."

     With that, he slumped upstairs; to his wardrobe, and some decent clean clothes.

     To the crevice of the mattress, and what glowed there in the daytime dark.

~*~

     And so, Russell set about a task that, by now, had become all-too-familiar: attempting to get his entire life together in the space of an afternoon.

     In his opinion, he'd done a decent job of it, all things considered.  Though he was adrift in a numb haze, lightly scummed with smeared ink and ennui, he'd managed to walk himself through the tasks he set out with little complaint, and only once or twice felt the urge to simply lie down in the snow and wait for Edward to scrape him up with a shovel.

     The kitchen was cleaned.  The chair was commissioned.  The groceries were gathered and brought in.  And, all along his way, the curiosity about the scribblings on his face was met with as much good humor as he could muster.

     See?  You're fine.  You just have to put in more effort.

     (From where, pray tell, can I possibly dredge up more than I've already put in?)

     Finally, as his reward for all that effort, Russell ended his day of errands with a soak at the bathhouse.

     Unfortunately, he'd found it somewhat disappointing in its ability to either clear his chest or wash the remaining ink from his face, but a good hour of floating in the sweet-smelling water had cleansed him so well otherwise that he really couldn't complain.  He'd even brought the novel he'd been reading in with him; holding it carefully above the water, so as not to damage the pages or the delicate paper butterfly that marked them.

     Immersed in the familiar story, and in the weightlessness of water, Russell, blessedly, forgot himself.

     And, when he eventually remembered himself again, he felt crisp and businesslike, ready to begin the day's work in earnest.

     Still somewhat adrift, but a bit less hazy, he paged through a publisher's catalog and wrote up several queries.  Then he bid Tori goodbye, locked the Library's door for the evening, and set to work on a decent dinner for his daughter and himself.

     At first, the sheer potential of a full kitchen threatened to overwhelm him, but he eventually settled on one of his few standbys; a simple vegetable stir-fry, rather roughly-chopped and uninspired, but solid and nutritious enough to feel like one more job well done.

     Nevermind that you missed lunch again.

     I didn't just forget.  I was out.  I was busy.

     (Your body can't tell the difference, and your clothes are starting to fit funny.)

     Can't I just have this one decent day?

     While they ate, Cecilia told an elaborate story about a crab she and Nicholas had played with all morning as she fussily picked every fragment of green pepper out of her meal.  Russell decided to let it slide, in favor of allowing himself to become fully engrossed in her little tale.

     Maybe your real problem is that you put in too much effort?

     (...I know I spend too much time thinking about everything I'm doing wrong, so let's just start there for once.)

     Later, while cleaning up after dinner, Russell began feeling a bit peculiar.

     Not ill, exactly, and certainly nothing unbearable.  A little unsteadiness, a little tension behind the eyes, and a mood that threatened to plummet back to the morning's dolorous lows.

     He knew what was happening, because he'd put himself through it before.

     All winter long, he'd been dancing.  He'd danced through the thorny pages of that difficult book, and through the short, dark days of the difficult season.  It had been a sorry, graceless dance, set to an atonal off-key dirge.  But it was a dance all the same, and it carried him when he couldn't bear to walk.

     And now, it seemed, it was time to pay that miserable piper.

     You've taken this as far as you sanely can.  You'll start tapering off tomorrow.

     What about tonight?

     Do what you have to.  Avoid a crash.

     (...Delay.  Delay the crash.)

     Russell found himself reaching under the mattress for the second time that day, searching for the patient glow that waited beneath.

     The dose this time was miniscule; almost homeopathic, barely more than a shining smear on his knuckles.  But it was enough, within the space of a minute, to steady his hands.

     And enough, it seemed, to tear open the fragile, damaged lining of his nose.

     See?  You can't keep doing this.

     Holding his own ink-smeared face in a disgusted, judgemental gaze, Russell plugged the leak with yet another ball of compacted tissue.  Then he proceeded downstairs; to the world where he was still, against all evidence, having a single damned good day.

     Once there, he found Cecilia sitting on his desk, with her favorite origami guide in front of her, and that was all it took to convince him that he'd done the right thing after all.  Tonight, he'd need eyes that could focus, hands that didn't tremble, a mind that wouldn't break under its own weight.

     (You probably should have thought about that before.)

     Thankfully, once immersed in the task, Russell was able to lose himself again.  He was trying to master a rather complicated method for creating a tiny flying dragon, while Cecilia appeared to be determinedly fashioning an impressive swarm of butterflies.

     As he watched the flock of increasingly crisp dragons folding themselves together in his hands, Russell listened as his daughter explained that, since he'd told her that the butterflies could be used as bookmarks, she'd gotten the idea to sell them at the front desk for one gold piece each.  He agreed that this was a splendid plan, and spent the rest of the evening beaming with pride.

     The diligent pair worked for hours; until Cecilia began to fall asleep right there on the desk and had to be carried up to bed, where she immediately slipped into her ever-pleasant, untroubled dreams.

     Russell already knew that he, of course, wouldn't be so lucky.

     With the warmth of their shared evening fading fast, he was already beginning to feel vaguely frustrated and ill-at-ease with himself.  Standing before the mirror again, he blew his nose clear of clotted blood, and tried, for the umpteenth time, to wash the stars from his skin.

     And, once again, they stubbornly remained; if diminished only slightly.

     Russell debated whether he should try again, or just accept his new, grey-spangled life, until he was startled out of his thoughts by something loudly slamming against the bedroom window.

     At first, he instinctively dropped to the floor, arms wrapped protectively around his crazed head.  But before too long—after a few moments of breathing shallowly on the cold tiles—he realized he had overreacted.  It was probably just some frightened night bird that, in its haste, hadn't been looking where it was going.  He would stand up, dust himself off, and go see what happened.

     If it hadn't survived the hit or the fall, he would bury it in the frozen ground, so Cecilia wouldn't have to cry over it in the morning.

     If it was merely injured, Tori could probably nurse it back to health at the farm.  The gentle girl had a gift for such things.

     Hell, she likes you well enough, and that just says it all.

     Warily, Russell crept into the bedroom and approached the window.

     Instead of a fallen night bird, dead or injured, he saw a smallish, bundled figure standing on the snowy street.  It only had to raise one hand in a friendly, exuberant wave for Russell to know exactly who it was.

     Sabrina!

     (But what could she want?)

     Eager to find out, Russell descended the stairs as quickly as he could without waking his slumbering daughter.  He opened and closed the Library's door with painstaking gentleness, and tried to keep the last of the shake out of his voice.

     "Hey, Sabrina..."

     He hadn't quite succeeded, but she didn't seem to mind.  He barely got his greeting out before she took him warmly in her arms.

     "...Hey, Russell!  Aw, I'm sorry...  I know you get spooked.  It was just a little snowball...  I saw the light on in your window, and thought I might get your attention!"

     In that snug embrace, Russell felt the tremble leave his spine, and his rapid wheezy breath slow to a calm, smooth rhythm.  She'd always had a way of sucking the nerves right out of him.

     "...Well, you certainly have it.  Any particular reason why?"

     Sabrina let out a playfully heavy sigh.  In combination with the thick wool hat pulled clear down over her eyebrows, it gave her a comically grumpy aura.

     "I am not cut out for Neumann's schedule.  I mean, who goes to bed at seven in the evening?  And under these stars!  So I was wondering if you wanted to go kill a little time at the Pub?"

     For a moment, they both stared up at the sky, admiring all the grandeur shining through the crystalline winter air as their white breath tumbled up towards the moon.

     Russell smiled; to himself, and to that boundless sky.

     ...And what about Cecilia?

     Sleeping like the dead.  I can afford to step out.

     "I'd like that.  Very much."

     Sabrina's face split in a cheerful grin, breaking any illusion of ill-humor.

     "Well, then let's get going!"

     She gently took his arm, and the pair led one another down the street.  Russell, catching her giddy spirit as he always did, laughed to himself.

     "You know, speaking of Neumann, I actually saw him today."

     Sabrina burst into a laugh of her own.

     "He told me!  Said you bought a chair, and I was just...  'Finally!'  Y'know?"

     Russell smiled shyly.

     "Yeah...  It was time."

     The laughter paused, and Russell swore he could see the years playing through Sabrina's mind.

     "Remember how we'd sit in the chairs, and the kids would just eat under the table?"

     Russell—with a strange, aching fondness—remembered.

     "Oh, they loved it under there."

     Sabrina laughed again, eyes glittering with sweet recollection.

     "You know what they loved?  Nicky loved pretending he was a Chipsqueak in a burrow and making those awful squeaking noises, and Ceci loved putting freezing cold cucumber slices between my toes!"

     Somehow, Russell had almost forgotten all of that, but Sabrina had brought it rushing back, in all its cozy hilarity.  For a moment, he laughed as freely as he had in months.

     Then something caught in his chest, and the laugh devolved into a rattling cough that bent his body double.  It went on for long enough that he felt like he should apologize, though he could scarcely breathe deeply enough to speak.

     "I'm sorry...  I don't know wha-"

     His voice broke, and the cough came harsher and wetter than before.  Sabrina put an arm around his waist to steady him.

     "Russell...  That sounds really bad.  Have you been to the Clinic?"

     At first, he couldn't answer.  It was as though some icy-fisted devil were gripping him by the throat with one hand and driving hot irons into his lungs with the other.  His ribs felt about to fly apart, and he no longer had to look up to be dazzled by a profusion of stars.

     Eventually, Russell was able to take a deep, quavering breath, before spitting messily into his handkerchief.  What he'd brought up was larger than he'd anticipated; thick and sticky, streaked with dark blood from his battered sinuses.

     (You hope that's where it's from.)

     I know I like to assume the worst, and I'm sick of it.

     With a shudder of revulsion at his own body—at all those slimy quicksilver mysteries—Russell quickly slipped the handkerchief into his pocket and out of sight, struggling for a moment to catch his breath.

     "...Few times, yeah..."

     Sabrina kept rubbing comforting patterns on his quivering back.

     "Well, you should probably go again."

     Russell straightened up, clearing his throat thickly.

     "Maybe...  I don't know...  I think it's just...  I had that bad cold back in autumn, and then the weather turned before my lungs recovered...  I really don't know.  It's a pain.  But I don't think anything's really wrong with me."

     To look at Sabrina's face, she was seeing a lot wrong with him, but she didn't seem to feel like pressing the matter.

     "Just...  Take good care of yourself, okay?"

     Go ahead and say it.

     ("...Because I can't be there to take care of you anymore.")

     Russell stretched his aching back and threw on a weary smile.  Whether this one was practiced or not, he wasn't sure.

     "I try.  Don't worry about me."

     Sabrina took his hand, gently interlacing her fingers with his.

     "You know I can't help it!"

     This smile, Russell knew, was genuine.

     "I know, I know..."

     Hand in hand, they walked the rest of the way to the Pub, snow crunching under their boots.  It was only when they'd gratefully entered the golden warmth inside that Sabrina finally let go, raising her hand in that familiar broad wave.

     "Hey, Emmett!"

     The friendly bartender glanced up from the wineglass he'd been intently filling; which sat before Lukas, the young poet.

     "Well hello, you two!  Have a seat."

     Sabrina took Russell's hand again, leading him over to the bar, where she lighted on her stool with the effortless grace of a seabird.  Russell settled in a little more slowly, and was beginning to feel slightly apprehensive.

     This is no different than what you've already been doing.  It was barely enough to do anything, and that was hours ago.

     (If you're so worried, just stick with beer and try not to get plastered.)

     ...This is Sabrina.  When have we come here together and not gotten plastered?

     (I should just see what happens.)

     Once situated on his seat, Russell ordered himself a pint of ale.  Then he turned to Sabrina, who was looking at him rather strangely.

     "...What?  You okay?"

     Sabrina laughed, sounding uncharacteristically bashful and shaking her head.

     "It's just...  Now that I'm seeing you in the light...  Russell, what on Earth happened to your face?"

     Russell, who had all but forgotten about his personal galaxy of misshapen stars, unconsciously rubbed at one inky cheek.

     "...Your son.  Your son happened."

    Sabrina's laugh was full and bubbly again.

     "My son!?  What about your daughter!?  They've pulled the same thing on me.  Twice.  Good thing I buy cheap ink..."

     Still rubbing at the stubborn scribbles, Russell nodded thoughtfully.

     "I'm not as smart as you, evidently."

     Emmett, who had just assembled their drinks, apparently had his own opinions.

     "...I happen to think it looks quite festive!  This first one's on the house!"

     Sabrina took her drink gratefully and brought it up to her grinning mouth.

     "Thanks, barkeep!"

     Russell hadn't caught what she'd ordered, but it was something that looked dark and sweet, with a little wooden-stir-stick and a glacier's worth of sparkling ice.  His own glass of beer looked plain in comparison, but he was glad to have it, and found himself downing a quarter of the pint in one go without thinking.

     ...Hey.  You're pacing yourself, remember?

     He gently sat the glass back down, then turned to Sabrina.

     "So!  It's been a while since we've had a chance to actually talk...  How are you?  How was ice fishing?"

     Sabrina was draining her drink quickly but steadily, with delicate little sips.

     "Oh, I'm good...  I don't think I'm cut out for ice fishing, though."

     Russell took another pull from his drink, though a more prudent one this time.

    ��"That so?"

     She shook her head brisky.

     "Love fishing, hate ice...  I'm glad I tried it, but I'm from the South, you know?"

     He knew well.  Sabrina was a creature of summer haze, of sunlight glittering on deep water.  Russell remembered her first few years in Kardia, and how she used to drag in winter just like he did.  But eventually, she seemed to grow used to it, and managed to keep a summery vigor in all seasons.

     He, on the other hand...

     (...She'd still stay in bed with me so I wouldn't get cold.)

     He killed that thought with another dangerously long swallow.

     "Yeah, it's hard to imagine you standing out on some frozen lake.  With or without a fishing pole."

     Sabrina shrugged, strong shoulders rusting in her open coat.

     "Well, we had cake and hot cider out on the lake on my birthday, so it wasn't all bad."

     That, Russell could picture.  Then, almost reflexively, he also pictured Edward's little birthday celebration; the glow of the sunset, and the mug of hot wine warming his chilly hands.  He remembered that he'd always thought it would be fun to pick a day between his dearest friends' closely-set birthdays and celebrate together as a trio.

     But you could never get it together and ask, could you?  And now it's too late.

     Sabrina finished her drink.  Russell wasn't far behind, so she ordered a second round for both of them.

     "...So, what about you?  How are you?  How's Cecilia?"

     Russell's beer was placed before him, and he sucked at the foam thoughtfully.

     "I'm...  Good.  Cecilia's great, though.  I always knew she was a clever one, but she's outdoing herself lately.  Right now, she's really interested in making these origami bookmarks.  Wants to sell them at the Library."

     Sabrina poked at the ice in her drink, as though the arrangement needed to be perfect before she dared take a sip.

     "That's wonderful! I'll have to swing by and buy one...  You're just 'good,' though?"

     My dear, I'm not even that.

     "Weather just has me down a little.  You know how it is."

     Hearing this news, she gently squeezed his hand again, then returned her own hand to her drink, to whatever game she was playing with the ice cubes.

     "I know...  But it'll be spring before you know it.  And at least you still go to work...  I swear, that husband of mine closes up shop the second a cloud crosses the sky."

     Russell decided not to mention how much of his slack Tori had been picking up.

     "...Yeah, what's up with that?  What does he even do when it rains?"

     With the ice to her liking, Sabrina took a hearty sip.

     "Mostly, he hangs around my shop, getting underfoot more than Nicky does.  I love the guy, though."

     I'm glad.  I hope he loves you, too.

     The very suggestion of love and marriage seemed to grind their conversation to a sad halt.  But, by the time their glasses were drained, it had chugged to life again, meandering and full of laughter.

     It was Russell who ordered the third round; switching to whiskey, which he drank in careful, measured sips between wisecracks and meaningless musings.

     I'd almost forgotten how easy things were with her.

     (The hard part comes later.)

     Sabrina ordered the fourth round at last call, and they finished these final drinks in the sort of reluctant hurry that always accompanies the curtain falling on a pleasant night.  With their cups empty, they began to head for the door.

     Emmett, as he often did, had other ideas.

     "...Hey, where are you two going!?  I have two new recipes I've been working on!"

     Russell and Sabrina turned around and scurried back towards the bar, like scruffy city pigeons eager to be fed.

~*~

     So much for not getting plastered.

     For the time being, it was at least a pleasant sort of plastered; wheeling and giddy, just dizzy enough to keep Russell on his toes as he and Sabrina laughed and hurled snowballs at each other through the pure starry air.

     The two free drinks they had sampled had been surprisingly strong, and one of them had involved an exotic liqueur, of which small glasses had been offered and gratefully accepted.

     Russell, for his part, had accepted two.

     And, between that and the scant dose of Lamp Grass he'd taken that evening, he was a bit wobblier on his feet than Sabrina.  She occasionally had to pause to steady him, and he tried not to revel too much in the feeling of her small, surprisingly strong hands bracing his shoulders.

     That isn't her job anymore, and you know it.

     (She's acting of her own free will.  Let me enjoy this.)

     Whether it was her job or not, Sabrina seemed to accept it in good spirits.  She guided him all the way back to the Library, where her vigilance finally failed them.

     This time, it wasn't a drunken misstep, but rather an unexpected patch of ice, that sent Russell falling ungracefully to his knees on the jagged ground.

     "Okay...  Ow..."

     In truth, he hadn't been sure how much it had hurt, numbed as he was by the liquor, not to mention the chill of the icy street itself.  He only really reacted because it seemed like the thing to do.  Sabrina, to her credit, was a little more tuned-in, and rushed to his side, kneeling next to him in the snow.

     "...I'll say, 'ow!'  You all right?"

     Russell was starting to become more aware of a rough edge of pain on the horizon of his being, but it still didn't feel like anything to get worked up about.

     "...Yeah.  I think so."

     Sabrina suddenly looked concerned, but he wasn't really sure why until she spoke.

     "Well, you're...  Bleeding, it looks like."

     Without thinking, Russell brushed his knuckles across his nose, but they came away clean.  Then he realized she was talking about his knees; dark stains seeping through his trouser legs, smearing the white ice below.

     "...Oh.  I guess I am."

     Sabrina sighed; sounding slightly exasperated, but not truly angry or annoyed.  It was more like he was just another hapless, beloved child that she had to care for.

     "Come on.  Let's get you cleaned up."

     With her help, Russell staggered to his feet, then fumbled for the key in his coat pocket and clumsily inserted it into the lock.

     The air inside the Library was so warm after the chill night that it made his face tingle and burn, in a way that almost felt pleasant.  But not quite as pleasant as Sabrina's hand on his waist as she gently guided him toward the stairs and up to the dark bedroom, where she deposited him on his unmade bed.

     "First aid kit is still in the bathroom, right?"

     Russell nodded.

     "...Good.  I'll go get that.  You should probably change."

     She disappeared into the hall, and Russell undid his rather complex outer clothing, slithered out of his long underwear, and threw on a pair of clean pajamas; the old striped ones, already well-stained from years of fatherhood and ink-slinging.  Still, he rolled the legs past the bloodied spots carefully, not wanting them to stick.  Then, suddenly feeling strangely lucid through all the haze, he turned the lamp on low and sat down to wait.

     Before long, Sabrina emerged from the shadows of the doorway, carrying a small metal box and several rags.  Though still slightly clumsy with drink, she sat on the floor at his feet with a familiar ease, dabbing at the wounds with a warm, wet cloth.

     "There we go, that's not as bad as it looked...  Just a few scrapes."

     Russell let out a small, wry laugh.

     "...I'm not going to bleed out?"

     Sabrina giggled, dabbing a bit of disinfectant on the corner of a dry rag.

     "I think you're safe."

     She then touched the cloth to his raw flesh, for which he'd forgotten to properly prepare himself.

     "...Agh!"

     Her hand pulled back slightly, then began dabbing at him again, a bit more gently this time.

     "Sorry... I know it stings...  Good thing Ceci's a heavy sleeper, huh?"

     Now that the initial shock had passed, Russell was back to enjoying the feeling of being cleaned up and cared for.  He leaned back on the bed and closed his eyes.

     I wish she could just open up my head and do this to my brain.

     "Sure is...  That kid doesn't take after me at all."

     With another small laugh, Sabrina dabbed the wounds one more time with a dry corner of the rag.

     "Believe me, she does...  She's real smart, and a real handful too.  Just like her dad."

     Russell sighed.

     "...I don't feel very smart."

     Sabrina sorted through the box, finding the gauze and tape.

     "You're just drunk, sweetie.  Neither of us are very smart right now, and I think that's kind of the point."

     Her voice was still slightly slurred, but her hands were careful as she affixed the gauze securely to his skin; made sure his wounds, however shallow, would be properly protected.  When she was finished, Sabrina hopped up on the bed to sit beside Russell, who sat up and leaned forward, delicately resting his elbows on his bandaged knees, cradling his head in his hands.

     "Yeah, well...  I don't feel very smart when I'm sober, either."

     Sabrina wrapped an arm around his shoulders, pulling him in slightly.

     "Hey...  Russell...  You're just a little down right now.  You'll feel better soon.  I promise."

     He didn't know why, but his eyes started welling slightly.

     No tears fell, but the rest of Russell's body seemed to liquify, leaning into her familiar warmth.

     Sabrina, almost tentatively, responded in kind.

     Untold miniscule adjustments later, and they found themselves lying down on the mattress; Sabrina holding him the way she did on all those melancholy winter mornings, not so very long ago.

     Cautiously, Russell held her in return, and remembered how right it always felt.  Sabrina was slightly shorter than Lady Ann, and somehow both wirier and rounder.  He'd almost forgotten how solid she felt in his arms.

     As he lay there, he felt his exhausted, drunken mind rolling in and out like a tide, pulsing with her steady heartbeat and the throb of his skinned knees.

     Russell sighed contently, breath rattling slightly in his chest.

     I feel like I can rest now.

     (I could sleep.)

     "...Sabrina?"

     At some point, she had placed her hand in the hollow of his waist, just the way she did back then.  He hoped she wouldn't be disappointed in him.  Or—worse still—worried about him.  But that Monster, he supposed, was long out of the barn by now.

     "Hmm?"

     Russell cleared his throat, coughing slightly.

     "...Could you stay here tonight?  Maybe just until I can fall asleep?"

     A silence fell over the room, thick and sharp as the ice that had tripped him.  Sabrina's hands didn't leave his body, but they were suddenly deathly still.

     "Russell, I...  I was actually thinking..."

     Whatever she says, keep your head about you.

     (Whatever she says, this is going to be bad.)

     "...Yeah?"

     The silence froze around them once more, then shattered.

     "I was thinking...  That...  That I need to go home now.  If I stay here much longer, I'm going to do something I'll regret."

     Russell felt the unfallen tears well over and spill down his cheeks, and wished more than anything that he could reverse their course.  They marked him as low and needy and selfish; helpless, pathetic, an overgrown child.  Everything he'd never wanted to become.  He hated himself for reacting this way, for reacting at all.

     I didn't even want to do anything like that.

     I just missed being together.

     (I just wanted to be held.)

     Sabrina noticed, and gently wiped the few tears away with her hands.  Unfortunately, they just kept coming.

     "Oh, sweetheart...  It's okay.  We'll see each other again soon.  I'll stop by tomorrow."

     Tomorrow.

     That was a whole, dark, lonely night away.  He needed her now.

     (Stay with me.  I get cold.)

     Indeed, Russell felt himself start to freeze as soon as she pulled away from him and sat at the edge of the bed.

     Shivering, he drew his legs up to his chest, trying in vain to warm himself.  He felt as though he were about to start wailing, but the very fact of that feeling disgusted him, so he managed to keep his composure.

     "...Okay."

     Sabrina stood from the bed, then leaned down to catch him in a brisk embrace.

     "Just take care of yourself, okay?  I mean it. Try to get some rest...  And make sure you're eating enough, all right?  And please go to the Clinic soon...  You really don't sound good."

     Russell found himself virtually mute, but nodded once into her chest.

     "Okay...  Bye, Russell.  I really had a nice time seeing you tonight."

     She placed a dry kiss on his wet cheek, and then she was gone.

     Sadly, it wasn't until she was well out of earshot that Russell finally regained command of his voice.

     "...Bye."

     And then, at last, the wailing.

     Though Cecilia was indeed a heavy sleeper, Russell was acutely aware that only a thin wooden screen separated them, so he quickly buried his wailing face in his pillow, not wanting to wake her.

     She can't see you like this.  She needs to believe in you.

     After about a minute, it stopped long enough for Russell to rise from the soggy pillowcase, wipe his bleeding nose on his sleeve, take the bottle from his headboard, and drink deeply of it.

     Then he planted his face in the pillow again, and the wailing resumed.

     This process, he repeated several times.

     Get yourself together.  Sabrina has her own life.

     (Not everybody is a sad lonely piece of shit like you.)

     It wasn't the specter of sexual rejection that had upset him so; indeed, that was the farthest thing from his mind.

     It wasn't even being left alone, though that certainly gouged him deeply.

     It was what she had said.

     "If I stay here much longer, I'm going to do something I'll regret."

     It's not like we haven't had sex since you remarried.

     (Just once.  We agreed on just once, remember?)

     Did you regret that, too?

     (Do you regret everything?)

[nothingtherefornow]

The truth has been spoken.

It's only my personal opinion but I think the team behind the writing and production of Miraculous paid a lot of attention to this episode. I know we've had some dark and angsty themes covered so far, but that they've gone so far as to portray such a realistic view of school bullying and trauma has merit.

Also I can confirm from experience that there can be differents categories of bullies :

Those like Chloé and Lila who hurt others for their own sick pleasure because they're that fucked up in the end. They love the illusion of power they get from hurting those who can't defend themselves (which only weak minded people do by the way, there's nothing to be proud of hurting somoene less powerfull than you, this is the cowardly way).

Those like Sabrina who participate in bullying without initiating it for fear of losing their secure position at the bully's side and for fear of being at the end of the bullying if they don't follow the most popular/powerfull kids moves. and in the worst case this category of bullies can become like the first one with time.

Those who lashe out because they're traumatised or abused (Chloé may have been like that at first, but she took a liking to hurting others and not even getting the love of her mother she covets so much could stop her now)

And finally, those who are not wicked, but are just too idiots and stupid to realize that their actions are seriously harmfull and can cause trauma, and to the worst case, lead to suicide. Kim is like that, he seems to guenuinly think that his pranks and teasing aren't really hurting anyone. And if people like him see their victims cry, they'll think it's like a little child who scratched their knees and that they're not seriously hurt. They don't realize that the damages they inflict are serious. But this last category is usually the one who can realize their mistakes and learn from it once they matured enough. Unfortunatelly it seems that most people like to remain stupid for the rest of their life.

If Marinette is able to give a chance to the first category of bullies I've talked about (she did gave a chance to Chloé and Lila even though they seriously hurt her), then it does make sense that she would forgive Kim, especially if she has long repressed the memories related to her trauma of which Kim was partially the cause.

I think it's kind of weird how Marinette seemingly has no issues with Kim after knowing what happened in Derision and even seems chill around him. You can just tell this backstory was a last minute thing.

She repressed the memory so she doesn't know all the details.

Besides, let's be real here, Kim is just a moron who has abysmal taste in girls. He was manipulated by Chloe.

Chloe’s the one who takes the majority of the blame.