#happy birthday best slug!!

[endomentendo]

Happy birthday, my fellow critter enjoyer!!! I hope you have a wonderfully lovely birthday and get all the slugs you deserve!! :]

It’s the best of birthdays I’ve had! ❤️

[jcbbby]

HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO ME, a gift for everyone! It's a little Caleb Sykes ficlet! Enjoy. :) (I have a longer fic still in the works, btw. This is just a fun lil one off.)

“Give me a whiskey. Double.” Caleb’s deep, gruff voice barked at the barkeep as he sat down at the counter.

The man behind the bar nodded, reaching for a glass and the bottle. A wet popping sound followed by the glug of the pour was music to Caleb’s ears after a long day of travel. He had been riding across the sprawling wilderness for days, sent by his brother to attend to business for the family. There was a matter of debt owed to the Sykes, something that not only were Caleb’s skills and tactics best suited for—but intimidation was something that Caleb reveled and excelled in.

Caleb took his hat off, inspecting it briefly. He brushed a spot of dirt off the brim, setting it down next to him on the counter.

“That’ll be 25.” The bartender set the glass of whiskey in front of him.

Caleb eyed it suspiciously, glaring up at the young barkeep. “This look like double to you? It don’t look like it’s worth even 15 to me.” He growled.

“Well, I-“

Caleb stood up, moving his coat to flash the pistol on his hip. “Now, I’d think real carefully about what you say next.”

The barkeep swallowed harshly, nodding once as he reached again for the bottle. “Yes, sir. Sorry, sir.” He poured another couple glugs into the glass. “On the house.” He chuckled nervously.

Caleb glared, forcefully taking the glass in his hand and taking a swig. He spun around in his chair, leaning his back against the counter of the bar. Surveying the inside of the saloon, his eyes fell upon the unlikely pairing of a young brunette seated awfully cozied up to an older, larger gentleman.

He drank as he watched on, the brunette giggled and twirled her hair, raising a glass of ale up to his sweat-glistened lips almost forcefully. The man chuckled heartily, obviously drunk on the ale and seemingly drunk on this woman. Caleb noticed her hand inching closer to the man’s small satchel of coins, tied to his belt loop. He smirked to himself, quickly realizing what was unfolding in front of him.

The woman extended a small switchblade from the hand, distracting the man by pressing herself against him as she swiftly sliced the roped tying the bag to him. Caleb took another swig of his whiskey, chortling into the glass. Impressive, he thought.

“If you could excuse me, honey. I just want to freshen up for a minute in the powder room. Don’t you go anywhere, okay?” The woman giggled, running a finger along the man’s plump cheek.

As the woman turned around, her smile and bubbly demeanor quickly fell. She made her way toward the back of the saloon, but instead of entering the women’s lounge, she took a sharp turn, scurrying out the side door. Through the window, he watched her slink around the back corner of the establishment. He slugged the rest of his glass of whiskey back, reaching for his hat. He knew he couldn’t let this girl go.

The young woman smirked to herself, plopping down against the back wall of the saloon.

“Too easy, as always.” She chuckled to herself, working to untie the purse and count her haul.

The last several years of her life had been spent on the move, thieving; her only means of living. The comforts of home had evaded her since she was a little girl. Orphaned at the age of 10 due to Typhoid fever, all she knew was survival. She had spent some time in an orphanage, which was a horrible existence. It was overcrowded from children who survived attacks in the Apache Wars and run by strict clergy members. She learnt to steal and fight during her time there, lest she go hungry or be intimidated by the other children but was kicked out at 14 to make room for more. Since then, she had been making her own way, by any means she could.

Caleb quietly approached, rounding the corner at the back of the building.

“Well,” he chuckled. “That was mighty impressive.”

The girl quickly reached for her knife, holding it out in front of her. “Back off.”

Caleb sighed. “Woman, hasn’t anyone ever told you not to bring a knife to a gun fight?” He flashed his pistol, smiling wickedly.

The girl huffed. “You gonna kill me over a few coins?” She tossed the small purse towards him, it landing and spilling at his feet. “Fine then, give it back to your chowderhead friend.”

Caleb bent down to pick the money up. “Oh, I’m not with him, no. And I’m not gonna kill you, darlin’. No, see… I could use a girl like you.” He smirked.

“I ain’t no prostitute, mister.” She scowled.

He chuckled. “No, you certainly ain’t, are ya?”

“You sayin’ I’m too ugly?” She came to her feet, brow furrowed, offended.

Caleb let out a full-belly laugh. “My god, you sure are a feisty one! No, woman, I’m just tryin’ to tell ya I’m impressed with your skill. I watched you hustle that man in there. I think we’d make a great team, you and me.” He handed her the coins.

She slowly took the bag from him, sizing him up for a moment. “Yeah? And who are ya?”

“You familiar with the Sykes family?”

Her eyes widened slightly. “You’re a Sykes?”

He smirked. “The name’s Caleb. And you?”

She took a beat before answering. “Violet.”

Caleb smiled. “Mighty pretty name for a pretty face. Violet what?”

Violet shook her head. “Just Violet. I ain’t got no family, and I ain’t got no family name. I ain’t got nothing.” She tucked the bag of coins into an inner pocket on her jacket.

“Well, you want somethin’?” He smirked.

She looked up from securing her pocket. “Like what?”

“How’s about you come with me, and we can turn those few measly coins into much more.”

“Keep talkin’.” She returned his smirk.

He slowly approached her, his hand reaching up to her cheek. His finger ran along the outside of her cheek and down her jaw. “And maybe…more than money. Maybe a family name to go with it.”

Violet stared up into his piercing blue eyes, icy and deep. To anyone else, they would have been cold and imposing. But to her, they were inviting. She didn’t know him, but she swore in his eyes it was like an ocean of promise.

[youroriginalsublimecupcakestuff]

Fem soukoku : when she was found by the sheep , an older member ( either shirase, yuan or someone else) of the sheep gave little chuuya an hair accessory.

As because of her memory problem and the years spent with the sheep, her hairs we're too long and unkempt but she didn't know how to take care of it even if it bothered her.

It became her things as grateful or affectionate civilian or members of the sheep ( especially younger members who didn't fear her for her power ) would gave her an accessory ( it never fail to lift her mood even when she's scolding them and her awed/happy expression when she think that she's alone is cute.)

These accessory are her more prized possession beside her the sheep bracelet ( and later on her hat, chocker and gloves) but when she left the sheep, she left behind more of her precious accessory.

She was only left with a scar, a broken heart and the sheep hair clip that was given to her when she first joined them.

When she lost it after a mission, she put on a brave face and pretended like she didn't need it anymore but hirotsu noticed but she mysteriously found a red ribbon in her office that she didn't dare put on.

Then hirotsu who noticed everything gave her an haidband and others person in the mafia took noticed and will give her gifts ( Verlaine and kouyou ( and sneakily hirotsu even have a rivalry in who could gift her accessory that fit her the more even mori and Elise gave her something.

But the only one who ( officially) gave her nothing was dazai, who would make fun of her to wear those accessory when she keep her hair so short ( or others teasing which let her flustered but she always had her revenge).

Still dazai was the first person that she gave a hair accessory, she picked it with her in mind with her first salary and while she was grumbling all the way about idiotic mackerel who keep their damn hair long when she don't even how to take care of it, she was soft when she put it on her.

When dazai left she left behind her bittersweet feeling, a burning car and she found that one of her fish hair clip that she bought as a joke was missing and have been replaced by the sheep hair clip that she lost when she joined the mafia.

She quickly found that it wasn't a one time occurance ,when she found a slug scrunchy in her room after that she hit a milestone with the mafia, of course she have to gift her something better she will be dead before that she will let dazai win against her in any shape or form but this exchange that let her that dazai was alive and as well as she can be didn't stop at that.

Indeed they also exchanged charm and keychain as well as pins as well as flower hairpin like a peach blossom hairpin on dazai birthday and made stickers wars when dazai came back, she will never admit that she feel happy when she noticed that dazai wore what she gave her.

And she rolled her eyes while secretly having a fond smile when she noticed that the accessory gifted to her by others peoples ( especially it was her subordonate ( or worse her suitors), shirase, Verlaine and mori ) we're replaced by the one that dazai gifted her of course she was apart of this competition why would she think otherwise.

No matter what she wore and in what side she was, dazai was still her childlessly possessive mackerel, she will never admit but she was reassured that she didn't change.

( as for said peoples who gifted chuuya those accessory, they we're made quickly aware that now that she was back , that they would relearn what fear look like if they dared having any though toward chuuya others that platonic ( or make clear to mori san why he should dare to gift anything to chuuya with her filthy hand ( unfortunately she cannot burn what he gave her nor what the others pest who gravitate toward her dog like fly gave her but she can make sure to show the world that she truly know chuuya the best.)

And that even ane-san and hirotsu-san are no match to her when it concern chuuya ( but the ADA ( and even fyodor) who will not miss a rare occasion to annoy dazai joined this competion, so of course she will win , not because she liked chuuya smile when she receive them or because how she look with what she gave her make her heart skip a beat or because of jealousy toward a slug especially when the poor yosano-sensei who should get her eyes checked say that chuuya's looked cute which make her feel a rare anger that she only feel when it concern chuuya no it's just because of her pride as a dog owner.

[choobziwatcher]

So, I saw this card at work and immediately thought ‘Soukoku would.’

I feel like Dazai would give this to Chuuya for his 17th birthday with a ‘And that’s why I loathe you. -Dazai’ in black pen under the words.

OFC Chuuya would misunderstand and take it as an insult, so he would try and be a jerk, thinking he’s so smart to return it with the ‘best’ crossed out and ‘Worst’ written over it before scrawling out ‘I hope you suffer. -Chuuya’ in red pen. Dazai takes it and gets all teary eyed and soft and refuses to let go of it or show it to anyone for weeks.

That’s when Chuuya realized it wasn’t an insult. So it becomes a tradition where alongside a cheap gift they would pass it back and forth with new snarky words on birthdays. Chuuya gave it to Dazai before he left for France, knowing his mission would likely have him miss the other boy’s 18th birthday. He was pissed off when he came back to his car blown up and thought that he wouldn’t see the card again because Dazai was cruel and clearly didn’t care for him as much as he thought. Only for the card to be hidden in his mailbox on his 19th and clearly tear blotched and a bit crumpled. A dark blue pen was used to write ‘Sorry, You can keep our proof of humanity until we meet again, Happy Birthday Slug. -Dazai’ with a tiny fish doodle

Chuuya kept it and didn’t shred it like everything else Dazai left since he had actually calmed down. Not that Dazai knew that, since Chuuya didn’t know where he was to send it back on his birthday. So the reaction to a single old crumpled and stained card on his work desk on his birthday completely baffles the ADA, especially with how he’s crying and grinning stupidly about the old clearly reused thing.

The new red ink says ‘I didn’t miss you at all stupid Mackerel, but you’re welcome to break in whenever. -Chuuya’ with a small poorly drawn slug.

[caramel-covered-apples]

draco malfoy

let’s all take a moment to appreciate that today is draco malfoy’s 44th birthday :)

have some draco malfoy headcanons i found to celebrate:

my man is bisexual. i don’t care what you say.

after the war, draco becomes a healer and is one of the best in london

he’s a rainbow baby (if you don’t know what that means, it means a baby born after a miscarriage or death of an infant at birth)

hates coffee, would rather drink tea

enjoys gardening

the only one who knows all of his mistakes and problems canonically is astoria

this man loves his wife and gets her flowers; astoria is his wife and his confidant in the canon, not some baby machine for a mlm ship

when scorpius is born, he immediately enrolls this child in piano, ballet (because ballet draco is a hill i will die on), and like 10 other rich people activities

helped a lot of slytherin kids with their homework because no other house and their kids would let him near the younger kids

bonds with luna during his school years, and he never once called her loony

despite remus being a werewolf, he holds a lot of respect for the man, and remus tried to teach him how to cast his patronus, but draco simply didn’t have enough happy memories to draw on

ever since then, his d.a.d.a classes with remus were always the most interesting and exciting

alcohol scares him; being out of control of your body is one of his greatest fears, and the memories of his father when he was younger

taken from a tumblr post (https://www.tumblr.com/dracomalfoyheadcanons/126669828985/genderqueerdraco-who-wants-a-draco-malfoy?source=share) draco tells all the first years what halls to avoid, what candies are safe and what other ones will cause you to sneeze slugs, etc.

muggle films amaze him, but a 3D film with those glasses actually scared the shit out of him

lemon & blueberry sweets are perhaps his favorite, although the flavors by themselves are good too

his amortentia scent scared the literal shit out of him. idk what the scents are i just like to think that it scared him because he didnt expect it whatsoever

his “but why is that?” phase when he was a kid was pure hell

loves doing nails, not even painting them, just cutting them and filing them down and pushing down their cuticles but he also does painting too

[sincerely-sofie]

Sofie's Belated Reactions to Today's Nintendo Direct:

Mario & Luigi: Brothership

I'D KNOW THOSE CRIES OF TERROR ANYWHERE

BEES

LOOK AT MY BOY GO!!!!! YOU MOMENTARILY DEFY THOSE GRAVITIES MAN!!

Wasn't sure about the visuals for the new Mario & Luigi game but they very swiftly grew on me!

ADORABLE CHILD CONNIE I LOVE YOUR HAT

I already love the Extension Corps mini boss squad

"Brothership" is the best title for a Mario & Luigi game oh my word.

(More below the cut!)

Nintendo World Championship: NES Edition

Neato! Nintendo-sanctioned online speedrunning competitions is not something I expected in this Direct, or at all, but I'm happy to see it!

This is reminding me of my goal to speedrun the first Luigi's Mansion game and see what my personal best is... I gotta do that sometime.

Fairy Tale 2

I don't go here but I'm happy for all you Fairy Tale enthusiasts out there!

FANTASIAN: Neo Dimension

WHOA WHOA WHOA did the announcer just say the creator of Final Fantasy created this game??????

I don't go here either but it looks fun!

Nintendo Switch Sports (free update)

MIO: Memories in Orbit

I'm digging the visuals for this!!! Not sure what I'm looking at, but I like it!

OH??????? RAIN WORLD-ESQUE ROBOT CHARACTER????? I'M LISTENING OuO

I absolutely adore this player character design oh my word

THE ENVIRONMENTSSSSSS OH MY GOLLY GEE WILLICKERS

NINTENDO YOU CAN'T JUST SHOW ME THIS TRAILER WITH NO COMMENTARY AND DROP A RELEASE WINDOW WITHOUT ANY FURTHER COMMENT. I NEED TO KNOW MORE.

Disney Illusion Island (free update)

Not many thoughts here other than I absolutely LOVE the pin connecting mini game idea.

Hello Kitty Island Adventure

OH MY GOSH HI HELLO KITTY HIIIIII

There's a Sanrio game with character customization????? EXCUSE ME??????? MY SANRIO-SONA IS PENDING YOU GUYS.

WHERE is Tuxedo Sam. WHERE is My Melody. WHERE are my children.

THERE THEY ARE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Nintendo this can't launch next year, I need it NOW

Looney Tunes: Wacky World of Sports

Oh they had to get people's attention for this with Lola Bunny, huh

The lineart effect being blurred and pixelated in places even in the trailer does not bode well in my eyes (they are the eyes of someone playing Pokemon Scarlet)

It's a fun cartoony idea for a party game though! I like it!

Among Us (free update)

No comment beyond I still have never played a game of Among Us. I don't know if I could survive a public lobby.

Farmagia

OH MY WORRRRRRRRD

Digimon / Pokemon / Harvest Moon / Stardew Valley / Ooblets combo punch of a game I LOVE YOU

WATERING CAN NOSE GUY I LOVE YOU

IT DROPS IN MY BIRTHDAY MONTH GUYS

Donkey Kong Country Returns HD

I'm sorry everyone but I hate monkeys and apes and I don't like Donkey Kong or anything to do with him ;w;

Dragon Quest III HD-2D Remake

INSTANTLY IN LOVE WITH VISUALS FOR THIS. I AUDIBLY GASPED SEEING THEM AND SENT MY BOYFRIEND INTO A FIT OF GIGGLES

In a perfect world, all HD remakes of 2D games would look like this photo-bashing beauty instead of uncute 3D adaptations (side-eyes the Diamond and Pearl remakes)

I think I might enter the series with this game, or maybe 1 or 2 when they launch. I LOVE THE VISUALS.

Funko Fusion

Exclaiming that I hate this game and then listening in shock and horror as my boyfriend tells me there's two or three other Funko Pop games on Switch

Bonding over our shared distaste for Funk Pops with my boyfriend right now. This is true romance.

Luigi's Mansion 2 HD

Seeing the tagline "Spooky, Silly, and Strategic" and PRAYING it's the Luigi's Mansion 2 HD's launch trailer

YEAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHH

The New Denpa Men

Got jumpscared by the Denpa Men character and immediately fell in love.

Unironically adore the character design of Denpa Men. I gotta get this thing.

Metal Slug Attack Reloaded

I'd rather play Battle Cats. Sorry guys.

Darkest Dungeon II

I have no words, only polite applause as I wait for the next drop to enthrall me.

Switch Online Expansion Pack

I miss the Four Swords companion manga!!!!! I loved that thing!!!!!!

"AND" says the announcer, followed by a black screen and dead silence, causing me to burst into laughter.

Phantom Brave: The Lost Hero

*gets yeeted offscreen* AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA---

I like the eye designs in this! Very fun!

Marvel VS. Capcom Fighting Collection: Arcade Classics

My dreams of learning a fighting game and getting really good at it... they are returning........ I gotta main Peach on Smash Bros...........

Learning about fighting games and the concept of infinites from my boyfriend and feeling myself wither at the realization it's just a matter of reaching your infinite before your opponent in order to win.

Super Mario Party Jamboree

Boyfriend exclaimed in utter glee when this little guy came on screen and I got to hear about how much he likes them!!!!! My man is adorable!!!!!!!

I gotta get this...... I've never played Mario Party before and I need to main Goomba or Shy Guy.............

Learning about the legacy of Mario Party 4 from Boyfriend and I'm utterly enraptured

The Legend of Zelda: Echoes of Wisdom

THE LEGEND OF LINK EVERYBODY!!!!!!!!!!!!!

I finally can play Zelda for the first time since Spirit Tracks!!!! And it'll be for realsies this time!!!!!

I LOVE THIS GUY I LOVE THIS I LOVE THIS GUY I WAS GENUINELY SPEECHLESS WHEN I SAW THIS GUY I LOVE YOU LITTLE GUY I LOVE YOU

I'm playing this game for Tri oh my word. The gameplay mechanics are amazing but Tri is the number one reason I'm gonna play and fall in love with this game

I love how this game is so much more strategic than straight-up combat focused!!!! We're playing Zelda mode lads!!!!

Putting September 26 on my calendar POST-HASTE

Just Dance 2025

Lego Horizon Adventures

Lego adaptation of Playstation and Window exclusive video game supremacy!!!!!

Stray

MY BABY BOYYYYYYYYYYYY!!!!! THE KITTY MAN!!!!!!!!

I've already played this but I'm so happy it's getting an adaptation for Switch!

Tales of the Shire

I still need to read Tolkien's works so bad ;w;

Not going to play this most likely, but I enjoy the idea of a cozy LotR game regardless!

Ace Attorney Investigations Collection

*SCREAMS LOUDLY*

YOU CAN SWITCH BETWEEN THE NEW ART AND THE ORIGINAL PIXEL ART???????? I'M SOLD

The Hundred Line - Last Defense Academy

Squinting during the whole trailer while trying to figure out if it's made by the team who made Danganronpa

I WAS RIGHT

Romancing SaGa 2: Revenging of the Seven

Boyfriend and I just share a Look because we're bored

Metroid Prime 4 Beyond

MARBLE TRACK SAMUS GO WHEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE

Boyfriend and I are weeping and wailing at how this game looks compared to Scarlet and Violet

Conclusion

TLOZ ECHOES OF WISDOM BEST GAME Y'ALL!!!!!!!!

[mal-is-tall]

@askbensolo happy 24th birthday, ben!

12.10.29ABY

dear ben solo

happy birthday. congrats on making it this far

i know you and me probably didn't think we'd. like. still be here at this point huh

a lot of people love you. which is hard to believe, i know.

but they do

i know this because it took a lot longer than expected to put this holocard together

anyway. not tryna get all sappy.

hope you have a good year

—a

@askreysolo said: hiiiiiiiii big bro!!! happy bday!!!!!!!!! you are even more ancient nowww!! you know, I always felt like I didn't get that much time with you before you moved away. since you're so OLD and stuff. so it will be fun for you to live at home again!! well...I think it will be fun. try not to be too annoying and weird. anyway HAVE A GOOD BIRTHDAY!!!! from THE coolest little sister ever (Rey!!!)

BENNY BOYYY! The man. The myth. The most legendary wingman of all time. Happy birthday, dude! Not a day goes by that I don't miss seeing your weird-ass face. My last two years at UNaboo sure wouldn't have been the same without you! So sad to hear you're going offworld soon...come back to Naboo sometime! I want to see you eat SIX blue slug-beetles. Love, Treesie boy

Dearest Hope Child/Little Han Solo May The Force Be With You And May You Never Go Bald Looking Forward To Seeing You At Life Day 24 Is A Very Big Number For A Human So I Expect You To Eat Twice As Much This Year With Love Auntie Malla

hey hey hey buddy have a happy bday! beebee-ate says happy bday too thanks for bein our roomie! we're gonna miss you poe (and beebee-ate)

@margindoodles2407 said: Happy birthday, Ben! Here's to another year of survival :) All my best, Margin

Anonymous said: Hey, Ben. Happy 24th birthday. :) I've followed your story for a long time, and kind of grew up alongside you. I know you don't know me at all, but you—and all the things you share—really mean a lot to me. You're a guy with lots of feelings, both good and bad, and I've always really connected with that. I hope you continue writing. Even if you need to take a break sometimes, I hope you keep on checking in with us and letting us know how you're doing periodically. You were 15 when you started this blog, and you're 24 now—I hope I get to know how you're doing in another ten-or-so years. :) Thanks for everything, buddy.

^ look solo it's your favorite guy

in conclusion.

happy birthday ben solo

[astralspen]

HAPPY BIRTHDAY CHUUYAAAAAAA

OK SO I HAVE A FIC FOR HIS B-DAY BUT I PROBABLY WONT BE ABLE TO GET IT FINISHED AND POSTED TO AO3 UNTIL LIKE TOMMOROW OR WEDNESDAY SO ILL GIVE EVERYONE A LIL SNIPPET FOR OUR BIRTHDAY BOY

Now, normally, Dazai was never into celebrating. But today, oh today was different. Today, it was Chibi's birthday. Dazai had decided to skip work for the perfect chance at getting under the slugs skin today. He could deal with Kunikidas complaints on missing work pretty much all of last week tomorrow. He went into a brightly colored and well lit shop, and as swiftly as he came in, he was gone with a white plastic bag now in tow. He looked particularly cheery walking on the sidewalk, and he enjoyed his peaceful little stroll all the way to Chuuyas house. The closer he got, the more excited he became. He couldn't wait to see the slugs face when he barged into the orange haired man's apartment, and especially the face said man would make at the wonderful gift he was going to get.

Dazai had gotten to the door and then entered the pin to get in. Silly Chibi, never changing the lock code after all these years. He busted through the door, though he didn't break it this time. He would be a little courteous today, considering the date and all. Though, when Dazai didn't hear an angry slug yelling, or even him running over to the door to see what the noise was, he became a little confused. Was Chuuya really not off today? He thought that Koyou had convinced him to take the day off. Maybe it didn't work? But if that was the case, then why were the extra locks on the door not turned on?

“Chibi~ Where are you~ it's rude to hide from your owner you know!”

…

No reaction? Did something happen? Dazai finally actually stepped into the apartment, and carefully closed the door behind him. Then, cautiously, he looked around the apartment for any signs of the little slug. When he glanced over the couch, he saw Chuuya, but something was off.

Sure, he was in his hilariously adorable pajamas, and even wore the pants Dazai gave to him forever ago as a prank gift. The old joke mug was on the table too, but neither of those were really unusual. After all, Dazai had done this on Chuuyas off days before, and this part was actually relatively normal. He had teased Chuuya a lot about using old gifts from Dazai a lot. Nearly every time he visited, in fact. But no matter what, Chuuya still continued to use them religiously. Even on days Dazai stayed over, he would see Chuuya drinking out of the World's Best Dog mug calmly in the morning, see how he changed into those stupid sheep pants every night. No, what was weird was that Chuuya seemed out of it.

He was staring at an old picture in a worn wooden frame, and it was like Chuuya had lost all awareness of the world around him.

Now, that wouldn't do. How was Dazai supposed to sufficiently annoy the Chibi when he was like this? So he walked up right behind Chuuya, making sure to be silent so Chuuya wouldn't notice him and hide the picture. When he saw it, everything clicked. What did Dazai do in response?

He flung his arms around Chuuya from behind of course!

“Chibiiiiii! You can't neglect your owner like this! What's the point of visiting if my dear little dog won't even pay attention to me?”

Dazai had said it in his most sing-song and pouty voice possible. Chuuya had finally snapped out of it. And swung his head back to look at Dazai.

“huh!? What the hell, Mackerel!? The fuck are you doing at my place!”

“Your hat must have finally eaten your brain if you hadn't realized what day it is! Why wouldn't I visit my dear dog on such a special day~”

“stop calling me your fucking dog! Of course I didn't forget what day it is! I just thought you had the sense to remember that I don't fucking celebrate it. Did the agency finally make you lose all your damn sense?”

“Chibis so mean! I even bothered to get you a present, and you still bully me!”

There, Chuuya had finally put the picture down on the table.

“I swear to fucking God if you got me a replacement for that dumbass slug shirt I'm throwing you out the damn window.”

“Rude! I would never reuse the same joke!”

“Yes the fuck you would!”

“Hmph! Well, either way, I got you something even better!”

This was my first time grabbing a writing snippet so sorry if it starts and ends weirdly TAT Hope you like it though and of course Happy Birthday to our little mafioso!

[geckosoddysee]

I'M A BIT LATE BUT HAPPY 2ND BIRTHDAY VEE NOCEDA!!

Ko-Fi Post

Twitter Post

MY CHILD IS 2 NOW. VEE MY BELOVED GAY LIL' SLUG BLORBO. I'M SO PROUD OF YOU. I'm sorry it's slightly belated but yeah, 2 years ago, Yesterday's Lie premiered. & Vee was officially given her introduction properly & reality was finally based & good because Vee finally arrived.

I love her so much, she's also part of why I was able to find out I'm nonbinary (Her & Masha both helped the most)

She is the best character & I will never forgive disney for fucking over Season 3 & causing Vee to get barely any time to develop more (Out of all the characters, Vee was one of the most fucked over by the shortened 3rd season because it's very apparent she needed more time to properly tell her entire arc.)

One of the most painful but best written episodes of the show.

Happy birthday to the worlds perfect autistic, gay, traumatized & adorable slug. Vee nation rise up.

I will never stop yelling about Vee. She is the best ever. My beloved slug child whom I shall protect with my life.

Yesterday's Lie premiered 2 years ago, & with it, introduced my favorite character. Vee my beloved.

And uh, also I was planning to have more art but I wasn't able to finish more in time & I'm already late so, hey, uh, here's some of the previous Vee art I posted too. I just wanna celebrate my comfort character rn. Bc she means a lot to me & she just makes my autism go brrrrr

[berryflavouredkoolaid]

Ophelia Black - Harry Potter OC

~ General ~

Full Name: Ophelia Volpecula Black

Nicknames: ‘Phee, ‘Phelia

Birthdate: March 3rd, 1961

Blood Status: Pureblood

Residence: London, England | Bath, England | Giverny, France | London, England

~Physical Appearance ~

Hair Colour: Black

Eye Colour: Grey

Skin Tone: Pale

Body Type: Ectomorph

Height: 5’5

Misc: Mole on her right cheek

~ Background ~

Hometown: London, England

Although Ophelia lived her childhood in London, she and her brothers were strictly forbidden from entering the muggle parts of the city. However, their mother’s threats did little to stop the Black children from sneaking into the heart of the city and exploring to their heart’s content. Although the punishment was always harsh if they were found out.

~ Magic & Schooling ~

Wand:

Wood: English Oak

Core: Phoenix Tail Feather

Length: 10 Inches

Flexibility: Pliable

House: Slytherin

Best Class: Charms

Worst Class: Flying

Patronus: Incorporeal/White Swan

Patronus Memory: She, Regulus and Sirius sneaking out of a ball and gorging themselves on stolen sweets in the garden

Boggart: Her brothers dead

Riddikulus: Unable to cast

Amortentia (what she smells like): Peppermint, vanilla, patchouli

Amortentia (what she smells): Sandalwood, grass, coffee, pine, sweat

Mirror of Erised: She, Sirius and Regulus all together, No divides or messiness, all alive and happy.

Quidditch: No

Prefect: Yes

Clubs: Slug Club

OWLs:

Transfiguration: Outstanding

Charms: Outstanding

Potions: Exceeds Expectations

Defence Against the Dark Arts: Outstanding

Herbology: Exceeds Expectations

History of Magic: Exceeds Expectations

Astronomy: Outstanding

Study of Ancient Runes: Exceeds Expectations

Arithmancy: Outstanding

NEWTs:

Transfiguration: Outstanding

Charms: Outstanding

Potions: Outstanding

Study of Ancient Runes: Exceeds Expectations

Defence Against the Dark Arts: Exceeds Expectations

Career:

1971-1979: Student at Hogwarts School for Witchcraft and Wizardry

1979-1981: Wife to Evan Rosier, Double Agent

1981-1994: Independently Wealthy, Presumed Dead

~ Family ~

Mother: Walburga Black

Walburga always doted on her youngest daughter, although her attention was of the critical kind. She groomed her to be flawless, unyielding. If Sirius was the heir and Regulus the spare, Ophelia was the rung on the ladder they would climb to rise to the top. By Ophelia’s 5th birthday, she was betrothed to Evan Rosier, a match of her mother’s making.

Father: Orion Black

Orion Black had little interest in Ophelia, he really had no interest in any of his children. To him, children were women’s work. He was proud of them, sure, or at least of Regulus and Ophelia, but did he really care about them? No.

Elder Brother: Sirius Black

Despite undoubtedly being similar, Sirius and Ophelia’s relationship has been difficult at the best of times. The few memories that don’t involve screaming, crying, and more than a few times, flying projectiles are rare and often mediated by an impartial party. To Ophelia, Sirius is an entitled, selfish asshole who thinks he’s so tortured when really he’s the most privileged of the three. And Sirius never really considered Ophelia anything beyond his annoying little sister with a victim complex and who never really liked him much. Andromeda always said Sirius and Ophelia were like oil and water, just not able to mesh together.

After his graduation, Sirius didn’t see his sister in person for almost 15 years. He saw her smiling face in the paper, hugging Evan in their wedding finery. And again, once again beside Evan, announcing the birth of their first child. He only saw her face-to-face long after all these milestones passed. In the kitchen of their childhood home.

Twin Brother: Regulus Black

When Ophelia and Regulus were born, the midwife told Walburga that twins were two halves of one. As children, the twins had their own language no one else, not even Sirius could understand. Similar but different, Regulus and Ophelia just fit together. Like puzzle pieces, without the other they’re incomplete. As children, whenever they were separated they would burst into tears and not be silenced until they laid eyes on each other.

Son: Hugo Regulus Rosier

Something changed when Hugo Rosier stepped to the Sorting Hat and without a second thought, it placed him firmly into Gryffindor. Soft-spoken and sweet, he has the quiet kind of charm that ingratiates him to even the most unfriendly of people. Ophelia often was reminded of Regulus with her eldest son, from his dark mop of hair, to his soft grey eyes. His tanned skin was all Rosier, though.

Daughter: Aquila Marguerite Rosier

The polar opposite of her brother, bright and cheery Aquila matched Evan in her outgoing charisma. With her mother’s brains and her father’s charm, Aquila was popular and well-liked despite her family’s blood traitor status. Despite her scholarly excellence, Aquila never missed a chance to let loose. As such, she has friends in nearly every house, except Slytherin, where enemies abound.

~ Personality & Traits ~

Personality: Ophelia is, at her very core, a rather selfish person. She cares more about what people think of her, that her life stays safe and comfortable, that the people she loves are happy and healthy and alive than the fates of the world and people she doesn’t know. Ophelia is smart as a whip, always getting top grades and showing a talent for magic comparable to few others. She cares deeply for her family and friends, even their wrongs are wrapped in a silver lining to her, for better or for worse. Ophelia is much like her older brother, they share the same all-encompassing, complete loyalty, willing to do anything and everything for their loved ones.

Likes: Dancing, playing the violin, school, safety, comfort, citrus, calligraphy, writing

Dislikes: Flying, heights, her mother, diets, balls, fighting, disruption, magical creatures

Favourite Place: The Rosier Estate

Prized Possession: Her journal

~ Relationships ~

Love Interest: Evan Rosier

Evan and Ophelia were sort of destined for each other. Both pedigreed children of pureblood families, the pair were betrothed practically before they could walk. Always pushed together at every step, it’s almost shocking they didn’t end up hating each other. But, it ended up being quite the opposite. Evan and Ophelia were each other’s first everything. As they entered their final year of Hogwarts, Evan’s parents continued to pressure him to join the ranks of Voldemort’s followers. Halfway through their seventh year, he relented. Ophelia and Evan married not long after their graduation, at the Rosier estate, where they would live.

Best Friend: Regulus Black

Friends:

Narcissa Malfoy

Barty Crouch Jr. (Formerly)

Antonia Avery (Formerly)

Remus Lupin

Albus Dumbledore

Rivals:

Cosette Fawley

Molly Weasley

~ Misc. & Notes ~

Walburga has had Ophelia on a strict diet since she was 13 years old.

She has beautiful handwriting, a product of rigorous practice and training. Her handwriting is delicate, spidery and smooth, almost fragile.

Ophelia’s favourite colour is really a dark red, but she lies that it’s green when asked, upon occasion.

She and Regulus can practically read each other’s thoughts.

In her thued year, Ophelia tried to select Muggle Studies as one of her courses, but her parents contacted the school and forced her to switch.

In December 1979, Ophelia Rosier made a deal with Albus Dumbledore, more than a year before Severus Snape. She exchanged every piece of information about Voldemort, Regulus’s suspicions about the Horcruxes, and the identities of many of the Death Eaters for the safety of Regulus Black and Evan Rosier.

Regulus Black went missing, presumed dead only one week later.

Following Regulus’s death, Evan and Ophelia Rosier disappeared without a trace. Eleven years later, Hugo Rosier arrived at Hogwarts.

[bacon-sandwich-of-dionysus]

Bloodhound. (A Ghost x AFAB!Reader fic)

Act One, Chapter Nine: In the Eye of the Storm

Hey guys! I'm back! Yay!

So, so sorry for the super long delay- med school has been extremely busy and on top of that, the Christmas hols have been busy as well. I had family functions, Christmas itself, and my birthday on New Year's Eve ( :3 ). I will also admit that I did briefly lose motivation for this fic, writer's block is a curse, and it was a little bit of slug to get started writing again, but I'm very happy with this chapter and I hope you are all too.

Nevertheless, here's Chapter 9- a.k.a the penultimate chapter of Act One! Yay! I'm so excited for Chapter 10! I don't want to spoil much, but let's just say we'll be getting our first glimpse of an Arcadian Son in his wolven form! 🐺

Feedback is welcome! Let's drum up some hype for Act One's finale!

Warnings: Strong language, threats of violence, emetophobia warning, violence, gore, mild body horror and animal death (I will say this happens under the final asterisk of the chapter almost at the very end and it is a bit nasty)

P.S: Fun fact- half of this came to me in a dream! Seriously, it did!

Her resolve was breaking, crumbling away like sand through her fingers. She was faltering, stumbling over a root as she dragged her body to continue on. Valeria looked behind to see she had lost sight of the base. Slowly, she returned her gaze to what was in front of her: the vague path back to their camp.

She had cast that awful mask aside, leaving it to be found at the edge of the base, where the back of that dilapidated building met the woods, hoping you’d find it and that it’d light a fire under your arse.

A life taken was, in her eyes, better than a life doomed. At least, with murder, there came some form of closure. Some form of a definitive… end.

How long until it would set in? Until he’d unravel and consume them all?

Consume you?

She prayed that the anger she had seen in your face, as she had grabbed a fistful of your hair, bringing your bloodied visage to look upon hers, meant you had it in you to fix this. There was a good chance you’d reject Ghost and flee the moment you discovered his newfound nature. And… you’d be right in doing that- you know, to kill him before he’d get into their hands. Valeria hoped you’d stab him with a silver stake in his sleep or do her the kindness of making him scream. Oooh. Something inside her giggled with sadistic joy at the thought of an Arcadian Son screaming in agony at the hands of a lamia. What a triumph that would be! An arrogant man with strength he didn’t deserve nor need, squirming about at the feet of a trafficked child. Valeria hungered for that, and she had found a substitute in reigning supreme over the Las Almas Cartel but, now that she thought about it, it wasn’t the same. It was play. It was her living in a fantasy, rehearsing all the things she wanted to say and do to her overseer. There were many people that sat at the back of her mind, giving voice to her innermost doubts and fears, whom she wanted to see burn by her hands, and he was one of them. That heartless fucker who managed to worm his way into her very being, one who she’d still want to see in awe of her, to feel a swell of pride as she’d slit his throat.

Every Arcadian Son was the same. Every single one. They all did nothing but hurt, exploit, and terrorise. Throwing around their gifts without a care in the world and making sure everyone was constantly feeling their anguish, their pain.

But what about mine?! What about my pain?!

She trudged on, doing her best to halt the tears pooling in her eyes. In an ill attempt to self-soothe, Valeria found her arms slowly snaking around her, her body pulling her into an embrace. It stung as the cartel queen felt a tear trickle from her eye, rolling down her nose, clinging to the end. Then another, and another, and another once more. Valeria wanted to beat someone half to death. She wanted to feel powerful again, toying with people. She had thought that all these years she had spent on herself, spoiling herself rotten with an underground empire and plenty of men to crush beneath her boot, she had grown. And yet, here she was, a sobbing, snivelling mess, nothing more than a weak, little girl.

Little girl.

“You wouldn’t have existed if it weren’t for me.”

Little girl.

“I will always be with you.”

Little girl.

“You will always be scared of men like me. You will always be scared of men.”

The way those words had been uttered to her, all those years ago, with no anger, no emotion behind them, uttered like cold, hard facts. As if she was made to be a certain way. As if she couldn’t escape her nature. As if she was destined to be a caricature, an idea of a person. It was as if everything Valeria had ever done had meant nothing, because all this she had created, had accumulated, had achieved, was merely boiled down to a response to him. Essentially, Valeria realised that she was and would always be nothing more than his lamia.

A quivering breath escaped her, and she became still. Glossy brown eyes stared into the middle distance.

She could have said no, died in defiance.

And yet, she obeyed.

How far was she from camp?

“Valeria?”

Quick as a whip, she snapped back to reality and saw Graves, directly in front of her, standing amidst the shrubbery. His posture indicated he was concerned, slightly leaning forward, one unsure foot put in front of the other, hands hovering in place, shaking with slight trepidation. To him, she didn’t look well. Something about her indicated she wasn’t entirely here and as for her slightly unkempt armour and bloodstained face, Phillip feared she wouldn’t be able to give a decent report.

Still¸ he sighed, no harm in tryin’.

“Valeria?”

“You disgrace the army.”

Every single fucking man she had ever met had, in some form or the other, left a nasty mark on her. Every. Single. Fucking. One.

As she watched Phillip approach her, with a patronising dose of caution, her lip curled.

“I want the missiles. I want the target. And I want Hassan. And you’ve got ten seconds or I’m going to show you the difference between military and me.”

Phillip Graves was feeling sorry for himself now, but she knew it was only a matter of time before he’d be back to his usual self, or perhaps even worse.

“Valeria?”

“What?!” she snapped.

“Have you delivered the package to the target and…”

She could tell he was looking her up and down.

“… Did the renegade do that to you?”

Valeria wasn’t fooled by his softened voice. She took a disgusted step back as he took one towards her.

“What do you think?” Valeria sighed, making to brush past him and collect her things at camp so she could leave this promptly.

He grabbed her, hard, by the wrists. She looked at him like he wasn’t even human, her eyes wide, mouth slightly agape, a face depicting someone who was taken aback by not a man, but an animal.

“I need a full report of what happened,” he spoke to her like she was a mere child.

She looked at him, trying to find his eyes behind that blank visor. Although there really wasn’t much of a height difference between them, she felt as though he was consuming her whole field of vision. Angry tears should have told him enough, but it was evident that he wanted to hear it from her lips.

“Let me go.”

“I need a report.”

“Let me go.”

“You can have your tantrum afterwards, Garza. I need a report. You do realise that this is technically a mission-”

She pulled away, trying to break free of his grip, but to no avail. Over his shoulder, she could see the tantalising shape of camp. Valeria wriggled, demanding to be released. Phillip’s grip only tightened.

Stop.

Stop.

Stop.

Stop.

Stop.

Stop.

Stop.

STOP!

Valeria kicked him, screamed at him and, in a moment of brief freedom, before he’d trap her in his embrace once more, she hit his armoured chest. Again, and again and again. All that came out of her were shrieks and curses that sounded as though they had been trapped in her gullet for centuries. She punched and punched his chest, fighting to break free from his grip as he reestablished control. Graves supposed he’d let her have her moment for a few seconds, however, he soon grew tired of her hysteria.

“Valeria… Valeria, will you just… Val-”

He sighed.

“SHUT THE FUCK UP AND GIVE ME THE GODDAMN REPORT!” he roared.

Then, Phillip fell silent, as if surprised by his own voice. He sounded a lot worse than he did when she last spoke to him, merely hours ago.

Valeria glowered at him but did as he said, regaining composure. She was breathless, panting as her whole body rose and fell in time with her stifled gasps for air. Her hands were raised in front of her, held in place by his, almost framing her face.

“The renegade was there. They saw me. And as for the target… Riley’s received the package.”

He eyed the woman, seeing if he could smell any lies on her. However, it seemed she was telling the truth. Phillip let go of her hands and watched them drop to her sides.

“Clean yourself up and go log it on the lexicon-thingy. I received a call from them not too long after you left. They said they want to hear it from you.”

She pushed past him, wiping away the salty water on her lips with the back of her hand.

Dawn would be approaching and with it, heaps of planning for the final stage. They hadn’t been here for long, but to Phillip, he felt as though he had aged aeons. A sliver of him had just made its absence finally known, having spent the past few days teasing him with its liminal existence. Absentmindedly, he rested a hand on his chest, picking at the crevices of his armour as he stared off into the middle distance. He wasn’t the same. He’d hit rock bottom and now had to get on with things despite it all because he didn’t have anything else to do but that. Never had a man truly encapsulated the word ‘undead’. Phillip Graves in a sense had died in Las Almas, in that tank, at the hands of John ‘Soap’ MacTavish, but he hadn’t been reborn or redeemed in any way. The man was a soulless continuation of the previous iteration. Although he knew the inescapable reality of his situation, he couldn’t fathom it: particularly the fact that he was alive. This didn’t feel like being alive, though. He was simply… going through the motions. There was no agency here. Well, that wasn’t entirely true, he did have some agency which led him to the decision he had been procrastinating on making.

The matter of the girls.

***

“What?!” 72’s voice cracked; her indignation just barely being contained. “What do you mean we can’t go?!”

Phillip winced a little, trying to find the correct footwork needed to get around the girl and get on with his life. Much to his chagrin, though, the young lamia firmly put herself in front of him, blocking his path with her feet squarely placed hip-width apart and her arms crossed. She had an aggravating scowl on her face as she looked up at him.

“Kid…”

“Kid?” she scoffed.

“72,” he sighed, pausing for a brief moment to collect his thoughts, “you and 23 need to stay put. For your own safety. You know, I’m doing this for your own good.”

“We’re supposed to be working,” she growled, “We’re supposed to be on a job.”

Phillip noticed the way her brows lowered, eyes narrowing, it brought about a sense of familiarity to him, like he’d seen that expression elsewhere but couldn’t quite place it.

Him.

Suddenly, he was aware that he was pulling the same face under his helmet.

“You’re going to be doing me a lot of favours by staying back here. So, stay.”

“But-”

“That’s an order, 72!”

She was taken aback by his raised voice, her lip trembling a little as her mind couldn’t make up whether she should be scared or continue to be angry. Graves rose to his full height no longer bringing himself down to meet her eyes, thinking that had done the trick.

He gently moved her out the way and walked past, feeling an odd sense of pride that he’d managed to avoid a teenage girl’s wrath successfully.

“What are you so afraid of?”

Phillip stopped dead in his tracks.

“Are you scared you’re going to hurt us?” 72 taunted, “I know that you were the one responsible for 23’s injury after we extracted the drug lord.”

He couldn’t… He couldn’t even bring himself to look at whatever smug grin she was probably pulling, knowing full well that it would send him over the edge. The last thing he needed right now was an excuse to lose it, especially when she was in the line of fire.

“You…” He could hear his voice had become gravelly once more, like it had done so when he’d yelled at Valeria. “… You, young lady, are skating on some mighty thin ice.”

“I don’t even need to read your mind to know you’re full of guilt.”

“72-”

“We’re here for you! We’re your lamias! You can’t just leave us here, they’ll find out we weren’t working properly, and they’ll do something about it!” she cried, throwing her arms out and vaguely upward.

He turned to face her.

“I’m supposed to be dead. I was supposed to be in a shallow grave in the middle of nowhere, not atoning for my fucking sins but here I am yet on another mission… with two children that I now have to make sure don’t get fucking killed because...”

“Because?”

“I’ve killed so many people. I’ve been a damn good contractor. But I draw the line here. I draw the line at children.”

“We’re not just children.”

“No, 72, you are and you’re in my care. I tell you what to do and you do as I say. That’s the fuckin’ deal. Got it?”

Her lips were pulled into a thin line.

“Got it?!”

She hung her head low.

“Yes, sir,” 72 said, resignedly.

He nodded to himself.

“Go into your tent and stay there until I come get you for food or whatever. If you need anything, you call me, and I’ll let you out.”

Tail between her legs, she sulkily walked back to her flimsy shelter. He watched her unzip the flap and crawl in, hearing the shrill sound of the zipper being angrily pulled along the teeth. Phillip found himself lingering a little longer, watching her silhouette greet 23’s in the warm glow of the hanging torch he’d managed to fish out of their bags for them when they first set up shop here.

Though it stung, Graves knew it had been the right thing to do. They weren’t built for the battlefield, and he’d got a glimpse of that when Valeria had been taken.

23…

His mind was still foggy on what exactly happened with her. As much as he wanted to ask, he feared it would either confirm his suspicions or leave him with only more questions. And so, Phillip had opted to wallow in his apprehension, hoping that once he’d finished this mission and hopefully be rid of them, he could either forget about his guilt or drown it in a fuck ton of alcohol like he used to.

Taken a heavy hit? Simply rock up to the nearest bar in the area and drink and drink and drink.

Having awful flashbacks to Al-Mazrah? Sip some tequila, then sip some more tequila… then keep sipping until you’ve somehow arrived at the next day with only faint recollection of how exactly you got here.

Phillip wondered if he could even get drunk anymore thanks to his newfound condition. Perhaps that’s why the rest of the Arcadian Sons seemed so… excessive, the senseless violence and enforcing of power kept them from acknowledging the tragedies that were their own existences. Maybe he should get with the programme.

No…

It felt wrong.

Then again, he’d most likely done just as bad before. Still, his previous transgressions never made him feel like this, even thinking about spilling blood made his stomach both churn and burn with hungry excitement. It would be giving into something, something that was steeped in sin.

He needed to get this job done and hope the Foundation would give him another one so he would have no time to be alone with his thoughts.

***

You took another pump of soap and rubbed it into your hands before bringing them under the tap once again. Warm water washed over you as you picked at your nails, trying to get the last bits of brown, dried blood which were stubbornly sitting in the crevices of your fingers. Eventually, you looked back up to see the red smeared across the lower half of your face, coming to almost a point, where the source was: your nose.

Damn it.

The blood was beginning to dry, becoming a nasty crust over your skin. You couldn’t help but stare at yourself- bloodied, bruising with tearstains to boot.

You thought about the lamia once more. She had been hanging about in your head for some time now, her face briefly gracing your mind’s eye with her presence. You wondered who exactly she was, not from an identity perspective but rather, you were curious about her intentions. It was just… why?! Why was she there? Why did she help you? Why help and still work for the Foundation? Why show such solidarity, tell you about the Arcadian Sons in the forest, undeniably a few kilometres away, and yet, still, presumably, enter to confirm your location?

Or was this all a ruse? No… it couldn’t be!

It wasn’t like you were going to wait around to find out, you were going to pack your shit and leave first thing in tomorrow morning. You swore to yourself that come dawn tomorrow, you were out of here.

You just hoped that the Arcadian Sons weren’t planning anything tonight.

They couldn’t be that fast, could they?

They could. They very much could.

Damn it.

You sighed, watching your reflection frown. All you really had going for you at the moment was the hope that some god above would take pity on your plight and have the Arcadian Sons miss their window of opportunity.

A long sigh escaped you as you rested some of your weight on the sink.

Ghost’s bout of nausea hadn’t been helping the overall atmosphere in the base either. He’d hogged the bathroom pretty much all morning, vomiting loudly. Soap had been lingering outside for pretty much all of it, occasionally knocking on the door to ask the man if he needed the medic… to which Ghost would reply with, “No. Gaz is keeping ‘em occupied anyway. Besides, I think I just ate-” and then he’d get cut off by puking back into the toilet bowl.

You were curious about what exactly was wrong with him but hadn’t had an opportunity to even catch a quick glimpse of his state, with Kate and Price immediately pulling you aside to ask about the events that had transpired last night the moment you were out of the medical room. Alejandro and Rudy had also interrogated you in the office with the others earlier but that resulted in them having more questions. Then, a massive argument had broken out between Alejandro and 141, with Rudy doing his best but being an unsuccessful mediator. Everything came to an end though when Ghost had sat back down after getting a word in, only to suddenly rise from his seat and make a break for the bathroom. Everyone heard his retches down the corridor, and you wouldn’t be lying if you admitted that the sounds had made you feel a little nauseous yourself.

Bewildered was the word you thought best described the base at the moment.

A pit was slowly growing in your stomach. You were dreading what nightfall would bring. They were coming for you and there are only so many times you can escape the Foundation’s clutches before luck runs out.

You were glad you had packed your silver-plated knives and stake, feeling the sweet relief of reassurance as you grabbed your toothbrush, eager to finally have a moment to yourself to freshen up.

***

The clues at the bottom of her crossword were slowly blurring into one inky blob on the page. A pen, slightly shaking with mild anger, hovered over the third row spanning across the answer area. Usually, 72 would make light work of this, but today, she seemed preoccupied.

23 looked at her with caution from across the tent as she fiddled with the new compression bandaged Phillip had quickly slipped onto her slowly healing knee. The swelling had gone down a little, but it still looked sore. She watched, with increasing anxiety, as 72 grew more and more tense. Eventually, she caved and lashed out with a loud growl, throwing her pen to the side.

“You okay?” 23 asked with trepidation.

“Can you believe he’s making us stay here? Instead of, you know, letting us do our jobs?”

23 shrugged, turning to pick up her camcorder and searching for the switch as 72 continued her rant.

“Like, the Red Room clearly thinks we’re ready or we wouldn’t have been deployed, you know? His report is what’s gonna get us out of the Red Room and actually into a definitive pack. That we’ll stay in…”

She drew her knees to her chest, hugging the newspaper.

“… Instead of being passed from one packmaster to another.”

23 shrugged.

“Maybe he’s right,” the girl suggested, flicking through her footage.

72 grumbled.

“We’re going to end up paying for this. We always do,” she mumbled into the paper, “He thinks he’s doing the right thing but as soon as he mentions on the final report that we did nothing-”

“How do you even know he’s gonna say that?” 23 looked up at her with an exasperated expression, only emphasised by the blue glow from the device’s screen highlighting her features.

“Because he has to?!” 72 sat upright. “They’ll ask.”

“Yeah, but-”

“Why are you sticking up for him?!”

“I’m not!”

“You are! You’re on his side!”

If 23 had pearls, she’d be clutching them in response to such a false and heinous accusation.

“72, I’m not taking anyone’s side. We both know that he’s nice so he’s not going to do anything to get us in trouble, okay?”

“He’s the reason your knee’s fucked up.”

72 pointed at the bandaging on the girl’s leg. 23 cast her gaze downwards and to the side, covering the dressing with her hands.

“Are you scared of him? Is that what it is?” 72 asked, before bringing her hand to her forehead. “Oh my God! You’re scared! You’re doing as your told for once because you’re scared of him!”

“I’m not scared of him! Besides, it was my fault my knee’s screwed up, I was the one that tripped… It’s just-”

“Just what? Scared the big bad wolf is gonna eat ya?”

23 glared daggers at her.

“No, I’m not scared. I’m just being reasonable. Maybe, he has a point. Maybe, we should stay here.”

72 leaned back, her eyes narrowing.

“If I left and followed them to the base, would you let me do it alone?”

Silence fell upon them briefly, only the sounds of awkward rustling filled the tent.

“Well?” 72 asked impatiently.

“I mean…” 23 trailed off, scratching her upper arm idly as she thought.

“Yes or no!”

“Fine!” the girl groaned, throwing her head back.

***

Kate’s fingers were interlocked, her hands tightly wrapped around one another, in a ball, resting on her head as she looked at the ground. Y/N was in their prime. They knew. She, on the other hand, clearly was losing touch and at an alarming rate.

Price sat across from her, a steaming cup of tea sitting atop a small table was the only barrier between the two. He let out a sigh, the air whistling a little as it left his nose. His hands were comfortably placed on his lower abdomen, a contrast to his right leg, which jigged up and down, giving away his brewing anxiety. The captain was growing to resent this silence, waiting and wanting Kate to fill it because he couldn’t, he had no words.

The tense quiet was what was left of Alejandro’s panicked anger and Rudy’s unsuccessful attempts to quell it. He had shouted, paced, accused and demanded that Y/N needed to leave. Kate had stated that she could only let Y/N go once the contact had confirmed it was safe, and as much as she hoped you’d agree, you took Alejandro’s side.

You would leave come tomorrow’s sunrise and just hope that by the time you’d reach the border, the people Kate had been talking to would be there to greet you… like the angels at the Pearly Gates.

Marks of Alejandro’s outburst were everywhere in this room: the door only now just ceasing its swinging from when he’d stormed off, the slam of his fist still ringing in Kate’s ears, the scattered papers and the empty dossier precariously hanging off the table’s edge.

Price’s brown eyes looked over to the old electric fan atop one of the filing cabinets, feeling himself become engrossed in its soothing blanket of white noise as it whirred away, fighting to do its job.

“Maybe I shouldn’t have taken on Y/N.”

Quickly, he turned back to Kate.

“What?”

“We already have enough shit going on. Y/N… I didn’t need to add them to the list of our problems,” she muttered, shaking her head, “Did you hear what Ghost said? And how Alejandro responded?! I could’ve sworn I saw it n his eyes for a second that he was ready to kick us out.”

“No… No!” he implored, scooting his chair, trying to close at least some of the distance, “You did the right thing.”

She looked at him, her blue eyes intense, darting, doing their best not to give away her bubbling emotions.

“It’s difficult to see that right now. We’re here because Alejandro is allowing us to be here, he’s already jumping a lot of hoops for us.”

“And you’re doing the same for Y/N. We don’t leave each other. Where would they be right now if you hadn’t found them?” Price asked, placing a hand on her shoulder.

“Dead,” Kate stated, plain as day, “Or worse.”

Price’s eyes creased and his mutton chops rose as he gave her a small, reassuring smile.

“Exactly. And besides, neither of you have screwed us over. They said it themself, the soldiers after them won’t come for us if we keep out of their way.”

“Usually, John.”

He nodded, being a little too nonchalant for Kate’s liking, as he took his cup of tea to his lips.

Then, it clicked.

“Wait, John, I know that look-”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he muttered with a mischievous glint in his eye.

“I think you do.”

Price shook his head.

“John!”

“Kate!”

She sighed, leaning back.

“I’ll go to try and appease Alejandro by telling him we’ll all- well, I’ll who’s feeling up to it- take night watch tonight, save him and his men the trouble, you know. Then, if those lads show up to take your friend, we’ll be ready and stand firmly in their way. Then, Y/N will have a clear path of escape… theoretically.”

“John,” Kate chuckled weakly, “I appreciate the offer, as I’m sure Y/N would, but these are no ordinary soldiers.”

“Neither are we.”

“No, you don’t understand. What I mean is-”

“Kate, I suggest you think about heading to the barracks soon to rest up, we’ve got a long night ahead of us,” he said bluntly, rising from his seat.

With a shaking head and tight lips, she conceded. Laswell supposed it didn’t really change her plan, which was hoping that whatever pack of Arcadian Sons were out there would decide tomorrow night would be their time of attack. However, at the same time, she didn’t want to put her friends in harm’s way. And yet, having people available to raise the alarm would be beneficial, should they rock up tonight. They didn’t know what she knew though, and… well, Kate decided she’d take up Price’s advice to retire for the rest of the day to reflect on how she should prepare them, should the wolves turn up at their door.

Captain Price wandered towards the window, trying to peak through the fogged-up pane to see if there was anything interesting happening in the wilderness just outside the base. Suddenly, he yelped, staggering back, as a small bird landed just outside. Its wings hit the glass harshly as it steadied itself, before looking in to observe the strange giant beholding it.

“What kind of bird do you think that is, Kate? Looks like some sort of blue magpie to me,” Price mumbled.

Then, he straightened up and gave it a proper salute.

“Hello, Mr Magpie. How’s your wife?” he asked, giving a quiet but hearty laugh as he heard Kate snicker at one of his many British eccentricities.

“What?” Price pretended to take offence, turning around.

“I always forget you do that with birds!”

“Just magpies,” he corrected, “And they’re gorgeous little things so what does it matter!”

Kate shook her head, smiling.

Price gave a playful glare and turned back around, only to see that his small, winged friend had gone.

***

“How are you shaping up, Si?” Soap asked as he squatted down by Ghost’s bedside.

“Feel like I’ve been hit by a bus,” Riley replied, voice muffled by the pillow he was speaking into, “I’m dying.”

“I don’t think you’re dying, mate.”

“I am.”

Soap rolled his eyes. Ghostie may have had a reputation for being a stone-cold killer, and a very intimidating one at that, but MacTavish had found, as he’d gotten to know him, that the lieutenant also had a subtle flare for the dramatic.

“I don’t think you are,” Soap laughed quietly, removing the lid of a hot cup of tea he had retrieved from the mess hall.

“You can’t say anything, you’re not a medical professional.”

“Well,” Soap retorted, placing the lid gently on the ground, “the medic checked up on you a few mins ago and also said you’re not dying. I don’t think yer condition has changed much from then. I think you probably just ate something that didn’t agree with ya.”

“Fair enough,” Ghost said with a groan, his voice finally becoming clear as he turned his head to face Soap instead of the pillow.

He noticed the tea in Soap’s hand.

“That for me?”

MacTavish briefly looked down at what he was holding, and then back up at his friend.

“Oh aye,” the sergeant chuckled as he handed it over, “I made it black though, I’m worried the milk might set you off again.”

“Thanks, Johnny,” Ghost sighed, pulling his mask up to take a sip.

Soap sat himself down on the floor, fiddling with his hands as he watched Ghost drink up.

“You sound better,” MacTavish remarked.

“Really?” Riley asked between swigs of tea, “I feel worse.”

“Ah, that’s because it’s coming out,” Soap happily informed, “So, layering a fuck ton of blankets on top of you and making you sweat is working!”

“You’ve been pestering the medic all morning, haven’t you?”

“Maybe.” Soap shrugged.

“Ugh, Johnny. I told you not to bother her. She’s supposed to be helpin’ Gaz.”

Soap was about to say something, then paused, reevaluated, and tried again.

“I’m sorry,” The Scot folded his arms. “One minute you’re acting like you’re on your deathbed and the next, you’re telling me that I can’t be seeking out medical advice on your behalf?”

Ghost scoffed, giving him a playful punch in the arm. Only it wasn’t as light as it was playful. Soap took it well, not quite getting knocked over, but, once the shock had worn off, he couldn’t help but nurse his shoulder.

“Oh shit!” Ghost hurriedly pulled off the covers, practically leaping out of bed. “Sorry, Soap, I didn’t- Fuck!”

As he had tried to remedy the situation, the poor man had spilt his tea all over the floor.

“It’s fine, Si.” Soap brushed him off, rising to his feet. “I see you’ve not quite lost your strength. That’s good, I guess. I’ll go get some tissues.”

“No, I’ll go. I made the mess.”

As much as Soap wanted to protest, it’d be no use. He could see Simon’s mind was already made up.

“Sure.”

Soap conceded, giving way for Ghost as he grabbed his balaclava and rushed out.

***

As he was making his way there, he couldn’t help but feel this sense of unease. He was pretty certain it was what remained of Alejandro’s outburst. Though it was shocking, Ghost could understand where he was coming from; Riley himself had initial reservations about Y/N’s presence here. However, those reservations quickly died once Ghost had seen them and their desperation. He understood that kind of fear. Y/N was vulnerable right now, and needed time to rebuild their strength, hence why Ghost had vehemently protested against Alejandro’s demands to do away with Y/N.

That had led to a stern reprimand from Price and a very surprised look from Soap… and then of course, Ghost had to worsen everything by being this stupidly ill.

Simon actually had no clue what was wrong with him. It was like it had happened overnight; just suddenly, the poor bastard had come down with a pounding headache, high fever, nausea and these weird cramps in his lower abdomen and legs.

Just as he was thinking about them, another wave of pain hit him. Ghost took a moment for himself, resting a hand and his forehead on the wall, trying to find some relief in long, steady breaths.

“Are you alright?” a timid voice asked from behind him.

He turned around ad saw you, toiletries in hand, looking up at him with a worried expression.

“Yeah,” Ghost replied, “What, uh, what about you? Are you okay? You recoverin’?”

You nodded.

“That lamia got a few good hits on me, but I’m in one piece and alive, so that’s good.”

You both chuckled as you casted your gaze off to the side.

“I just… feel bad, though,” you confessed, drawing your belonging close to your chest, “Alejandro seemed so scared, like I was bringing some curse to this place.”

Ghost sighed.

“He’s been through a lot recently. That-”

“Lamia.”

“-lamia,” Ghost continued, “and her break-in probably was the last straw for him.”

“I see…”

Ghost watched as your eyes shifted, a ponderous look emerging on your face as you seemed to process this new take on prior events. He felt a small smile creep onto his face, under his mask, as you fell into deep thought, clearly having really taken in what he had said. The man would’ve let you fully enter a meditative state if it weren’t for the small splodge of dried toothpaste he noticed on the corner of your mouth.

“Oh, Y/N.” His rumbling voice snapped you right out of your trance. “You’ve got a little something on your mouth.”

“Where?” you asked, brows furrowing.

Your hand began to hover at various places around your face as a non-verbal game of ‘hot-n-cold’ ensued, with you trying to gauge whether you were near the right spot or not from Ghost’s expressions… which of course was incredibly difficult, because most of Ghost’s face was concealed.

Eventually, Ghost couldn’t take it anymore.

“Here, let me.”

Before you could even give or deny permission, he reached forward, swiping the blob away with his thumb. His touched weighed heavy on you, the sensation lingering as he drew his hand away. A shudder, confusingly hot, spread through you.

It… it was nice to feel the hand of another just touch you. It felt affectionate, and the way it felt menial, simple… you wanted him to do it again.

You couldn’t help but smile giddily.

“Thank you,” you said as you tried to locate exactly where his hand had been, “I’ll be around in the barracks, so if you need me to get you anything, just let me know.”

“Sure, Y/N.”

With that, he watched you hurry off. Then, he turned around and continued on his quest to find some tissues.

As Ghost continued down the corridor, he finally found himself at the fire exit. He stopped in his tracks, looking around for clues as to how he’d gotten here. The mess hall was back where he came…

He was quick to realise his error: you. When he saw you off, he went down the wrong way, taking him to the fire exit, and beyond that, the woods the base sat at the edge of.  Ghost was about to take his leave and retrace his steps when he heard something. A rustle, then a call.

He wasn’t sure why, but he felt himself being drawn to the incessant cawing coming from around the corner, just outside. Slowly, making sure his steps were as quite as possible, Ghost crept across the threshold and onto the soil.

There, on the ledge of a window, was a small bird.

Ghost cocked his head to one side, uncertain as to why such an innocuous thing had grabbed his attention.

Then, for the first time, all day, Simon Riley felt hungry.

A warmth began build in his stomach, churnings threatening to surmount into a loud grumble. He didn’t want to give himself away to the poor thing, not when it was perfectly faced away from him, chittering away at whatever was on the other side of the glass.

Ghost’s eyes were focused, as his surroundings began to blur.

Hackles raised, he lowered himself a little, placing one foot carefully in front of the other. Under his mask, his mouth was filling with saliva, his tongue running over his teeth as he grew nearer and nearer. His jaw was tense, mouth almost trembling with anticipation.

Blood.

He could smell it on the bird, almost see it pumping throughout its body. The creature was filled with sweet, sweet red nectar.

Riley could barely contain himself, his hand ready to wrap around its neck and-

SNATCH!

SNAP!

CRUNCH!

It had been given a quick death, Ghost’s hands making short work of breaking its neck. Frenziedly, he pulled his mask up and stuffed as much as he could into his mouth, moaning in relief as he lapped up as much blood as he could take. Then, he stopped, examined the opening he had made for himself, and pulled apart its broken chest. The heart was easily squished into smithereens by his teeth, releasing more and more of what Ghost had desperately craved. Inebriated by the pleasure, he found himself losing balance, saving himself by planting a firm hand on the wall in front of him, just under the window, as he continued to tear and chew and lap up.

As he did so, he felt an ache emerge in his arms and legs, culminating in his extremities.

“Oh… fuck…” he mumbled between mouthfuls, digging his nails into the brickwork.

It grew, becoming more intense in his fingertips.

His muscles began to tighten, his hands locking in place, either around the bird or raking against the wall.

A distorted, inhuman groan escaped him, as claws pushed apart his nails, black and shining wet. It was in a staggered motion, in time with his fingers lengthening a little as his palm grew and thickened.

One would’ve thought this was it, that now the rest of his body would follow suit and twist and change, but instead, the painful adjustments made soon receded. In a mere minute, maybe even seconds, Simon Riley’s hands were back to looking human.

He dropped the poor bird’s corpse, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. He paused, looking at the bloodstain now on his half-clenched fist. His stomach lurched, demanding to not let it go to waste. And so, Ghost licked up the red from his hand, before turning to the other one and cleaning up the mess.

“Oh God…” Mid-lick, Simon realised what he was doing. “Oh God… What the-”

He brought a hand to his mouth, wanting to gag, but nothing came of it.

What did he just do?

Did he just…

“Si! There you are! I thought you were taking too long to come back from the mess hall and Y/N said they saw you head this way.”

Quickly, he pulled the skull-print balaclava over his bloodied mouth, stuffed his hands into the pockets of his cargo pants and whipped around to face Soap.

“What’re you doing out here?” MacTavish chuckled as he jogged his way over.

“I… uh…”

Before Simon could formulate a satisfactory response, Soap caught sight of the eviscerated bird on the ground.

“Steamin’ bloody Jesus,” the Scot lamented, “A coyote probably got to it. Poor thing.”

He looked up to see Ghost was staring at it, his eyes unnervingly devoid of pity or any emotion for the matter.

“Simon?”

Soap smiled uneasily as he saw him snap back to the here and now.

“Sorry.” Ghost spoke with a slightly quivering voice. “Spaced out for a moment.”

The sergeant eyed him, and Ghost felt himself tense a little.

“Shall we head back inside?”

“Yeah.”

“Come on, then. That cold’s clearly going to your brain.” Soap gestured for him to follow.

“Right!” Ghost chuckled.

Soap couldn’t shake the feeling something was off with the lieutenant, but he couldn’t quite put a finger on what it was, nor did he want to ask about it for fear that Riley might push back, and harshly. Ghost had never liked to feel interrogated; he had a tendency to lash out like a cornered animal would.

Besides, it was probably just that he was feeling poorly. Colds can make people a little delirious from time to time.

As they entered the base, Soap noticed there was a distinctive smell in the air. A vaguely metallic musk, which seemed to be hovering around Ghost.

“No offence, LT,” Soap nudged him. “But I think all that sweatin’ I made you do with blankets and everythin’ is starting to… make itself known.”

“Hmm?”

“With all due respect, Simon, you smell like a wet dog,” he said bluntly.

Ghost stopped and looked at Soap sceptically. Then, he raised his arm and took a whiff to see for himself.

“Shit, you’re right. I need a fuckin’ shower.”

It would give him a good excuse to get the last of the blood out anyway.

[wreywrites]

Tiger Shark

Part 2: The Sea

Chapter 11

We watch in silence until the hovercraft has removed the last of the three bodies. I add three X’s to the Dead Chart, then decide it is as safe as it will ever be to refill the empty water bottle. Besides, only Taffeta and Tychus are left of the Careers. Zalea is still out there, and she made it very clear that after the stampede, things were no different between us. She’s formidable, but against two of us, I am confident we would beat her. And that just leaves the boys from Three and Twelve, neither of whom I have seen since the bloodbath. They could be anywhere, doing anything.

And then it hits me. There are only seven of us left. I return to the cave with the water bottle and grin at Mako as I go to our backpacks to add the tablets to the water. “They’re going to interview our people.”

He raises an eyebrow.

“Top eight,” I say, still smiling, opening the box of tablets. “Bring out the friends and family. Well, top seven, actually, since Tychus took out that other girl… Oh no.”

“What?” Mako is on his feet and at my side in a second. “What’s wrong?”

Silently, I hold up the second empty box of tablets.

His face sinks. “That’s not good at all.”

Before Elsie and Merritt said they’d gotten some, I’ve never heard of a tribute getting water-purifying tablets from a sponsor. I suspect that’s one of their ways to keep the Games from going on forever. If we can’t get drinkable water, we’ll get desperate fast, and then we’ll start fighting each other for anything we can get. It would sure speed things up if Mako and I were to now find ourselves without drinking water.

“We could boil it, you know, like how you purify salt water if you’re desperate.” Mako says, though from his tone I can tell he already knows what I’m going to say.

“The only one of the many items we need for it that we have is the pot.” I take a deep breath. “We’ve got two bottles. That’ll last a while if we’re careful. Enough time to plan the best course of action, figure out who’s most likely to have a way to get clean water, find them, and kill them.”

But as the day drags on, we realize that, for all we know, no one has a way to purify water. It would explain three tributes slugging it out by the river, being watched (and finished off) by a fourth, who did seem very interested in taking anything he could find off their bodies.

“Maybe that’s why Tychus killed Seven. Maybe she had some tablets. Or maybe they were running low and with her dead that’s one less person to share water with,” Mako says. “But if that’s the case, why wouldn’t he go back and kill Taffeta right away and then not have to share with anyone? Or kill her before he left? No, the cannon always sets everyone on edge, so he would’ve had to wait until after. But then why hasn’t he done it yet?”

As Mako settles in for bed that night, I add the twelfth tally to the wall and scratch an X under Six, Seven, and Eight. We are no nearer to figuring out who has water, and we have only one bottle left. I am tempted to just drink some of the river water. Maybe it’s fine. But maybe it isn’t. It’s just as likely to be full of some horrible bacteria or something as it is to be drinkable.

~~~                               ~~~                               ~~~

The next morning I double-check my math from the night before. I don’t exactly trust my brain in matters of math while on watch, but I am confident I am right. I leave the cave and find Mako starting a fire. He plans on trying to boil the water and seeing what happens. I don’t approve of this plan, but he doesn’t seem to care.

“Happy birthday, old man,” I pat him on the back as I walk by.

He snorts. “Thanks. Never thought I’d live to see nineteen.”

“Well you’re sure cutting it close with this whole water thing, but you’ve made it.”

We spend the day sitting in the shade of the trees, eating blackberries, drinking as little as humanly possible, and trying to come up with a plan. Finally, while the anthem plays the end of another deathless day, we decide to go after the Careers.

The next morning, we pack everything in the backpacks and hide them up trees. We scatter our firewood back around the tree patch and dump the coals out of the pot, which we then smear with mud and hide up another tree. We eat a breakfast of only blackberries because the rest of the food we have is dried or salty or both, which in no way helps our dehydration situation. Finnick hasn’t sent us anything since the binoculars, but I am kind of glad about this because I am sure bread, especially the sweet stuff, would make me thirstier than I already am. Though I wish I had something to eat other than blackberries.

We each take only one spear, hiding the other four in a hollowed-out fallen tree. Having run out of ways to delay the inevitable, we each take a last sip of water and start across the plains toward the cornucopia. We don’t even know if the Careers are there, but we don’t know where else to start.

Halfway to the cornucopia, a tiny parachute lands in front of us.

I open the box. Inside, wrapped in some sort of thin paper to keep it from bouncing around and breaking, is a vial about as big as my thumb with an eye-dropper lid. I stare at it, confused, then hold it out to Mako.

He snatches the vial and twists the lid off so desperately I’m afraid he’s going to drop the whole thing, spilling its precious contents, whatever they are. I only know they are precious because the Games have been going almost two weeks and the vial is small, both of which point to it being very expensive. But Mako does not spill any of it. He holds the eye dropper under his nose and takes a delicate sniff, then smiles.

“We can go back,” he says. “We’re good. Let’s go back.” And he turns and starts back toward the cave.

I jog after him. “What are you talking about?”

“It’s for water. I forget the name, but they’re drops. You just put a couple in, let the water sit for half an hour or so, and you’re good to go. Just like tablets. But this should last us,” he holds it up to the sun, gauging how full it is, “ten days or so, probably.”

I let out a sigh I didn’t realize I’d been holding. “Thanks, Finnick.”

“And thanks to whoever paid for this. We owe you one.”

~~~                               ~~~                               ~~~

Four more days pass. By my count it is the seventeenth day of the Games. Unprecedented. And I am getting tired of fish, blackberries, and buffalo jerky. Finnick hasn’t sent anything since the drops for the water. In fairness, I can’t remember any Hunger Games lasting this long. I can’t imagine the price of a bag of crackers, let alone some cream cheese rolls. It’s a good thing we don’t need medicine or anything crazy like that.

Fires are becoming commonplace. Every day we see three or four scattered around the arena, never in the same place twice. I think we all have the same idea: lure the others to us, fight them on home soil. It’s weird to think of the little patch of trees and the cave as our home, but I’ve grown quite attached to this place.

 The next day we hear shouting on the plain, but never a cannon.

“I wonder what the people at home said about us,” I say that night as we put out the fire and gather the coals in our pot.

“All good things I’m sure,” Mako says. “I’m more curious who they talked to. Our parents, obviously.”

“Jade and Coral.”

“The fishing crews.” He laughs. “Can you imagine old Reefer on every screen in Panem?”

I snort. “Maybe they got him and Rizz at the same time.”

“And both drunk, if we’re lucky.”

Still chuckling, I crawl into the sleeping bag and drift off.

The night is uneventful. Mako says that a few buffalo have been wandering around the trees when he wakes me, but nothing worth worrying about. They’ve always left us alone in the past.

My watch passes just as quietly. In the morning there are several sets of hoofprints on the shore and around our fire pit area.

Mako rebuilds the fire, then wades out into the river until he’s up to his knees. We’ve had more luck spearfishing than regular fishing.

“I think I’ll go get more firewood,” I call, already heading into the trees.

“Sounds good. Don’t go too far.”

“I won’t.”

I wander through the trees. We’ve picked the area clean of fallen branches, so we actually have to cut firewood now, which is difficult with only a knife. But the work is better than staring at the fire all day.

I am on my way back to the shore with an armload of firewood and a precarious grip on my spear when I notice how quiet it is. How quiet it has been. It’s been several minutes since I heard any birds. I walk around the blackberry patch on the edge of the trees. The branches fall softly to the ground. I open my mouth, but the only sound is the sword slicing through Mako’s neck.

****

****

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Tag List:

@avoxrising @snow-dragon-rider

[sluggmuffin]

AAAAA !!!! HII !!! HAPPY BDAY SLUG !!! <3

so: request for birthday girl! what are you planning to do for your birthday? what kind of cake are you having? (ice cream and bundt cakes are best cakes)

[penning-captain-underpantsff]

ani au: jasper's birthday

Krupp knows that it's futile but he goes anyway. In and out before jasper..or rather his yeerk can try to sell him on the Sharing again. The present in the seat next to him is just a formality.

He walks up to the door. Knocks. It's the house he's seen a million times before but knowing what he knows now it feels different. A trap.

His brother and nephew as the bait.

' jasper' opens the door, looking a little lost for just a second before breaking out into a grin. if this was any other circumstances, he would have felt at ease. But he's not. He does his best to play it off.

" what brings you here?" The yeerk asks.

Ben feels a twinge of annoyance. He's keeping up formalities for his brothers sake and the slug lazing in his head can't be bothered to know.

he thrusts the gift into jasper's arms.

" you working too hard? It's your birthday, Jasper." krupp answers, making sure to address his brother directly.

" I have been pretty busy. With the Sharing and all. Speaking of which-"

Krupp cuts him off.

" I got some errands to do. School years busy. I'll be lucky if I can breathe. But...i did want to drop this off. For you. "

He knows Jasper can still see and hear. And most importantly Feel

" oh. Perhaps next time? During the summer?" The yeerk suggests.

" we'll see." Ben answers not confirming anything. He doesn't want to give the slug anything more than he had to.

" before I go I want to give this."

Not giving the yeerk a chance to respond Ben wraps his arms around jasper tightly . He wonders if his brother can feel the protective brotherly love he's trying to send. The reassurance that everything will be ok the silent request- to just hold on a little longer. That he'll come back for him.

The apology that he didn't know until now. That every day he isn't trying to free him is another day he spends Trapped in his own body.

Krupp feels a slight sense of amusement and satisfaction when he feels the yeerk freeze up under his embrace. He can sense the yeerks mask slip as he doesn't know how to respond.

Eventually Ben pulls away, regretfully. Jasper's face still stunned for just a moment too long.

" well what's gotten into you?"

" Jasper...i just wanted you to know that I Will always love you. Even if we dont talk much anymore." Ben isn't the physically affectionate type or the type to openly declare feelings. But this is special.

He stares directly into jasper's eyes, hoping that his brother knows he's talking to Him.

" Happy birthday, Jasper." He finally turns to leave without looking back.

[bibletoys]

i had a really nice birthday. i watched joseph king of dreams in the morning in my room. then my mom and i went to the ice cream shop. i got a strawberry cone. then we went to a toy shop i didn't know was there and i got cherry scratch and sniff stickers and fake rubber banana slugs! we had dinner at home and watched a movie and had cake and i opened the presents on the table that had frogs on the wrapping. it was a good day and nobody was fighting everyone was happy including my dogs. i even got a really really nice drawing from my friend, and talked to them a lot. that made it the best birthday.

[bisexualpotatobitch]

Sixth Year, a Summary: Chapter 14

Theodore Lupin

Vicky and I were supposed to have a date on June third, the day after Annalise’s birthday. But her last class was Herbology, and mine was Divination, so we decided to meet in the middle, in an empty classroom. On my way down, I was grabbed and pulled into a dark room. Before I could react, I was shoved into a chair and heard someone say, “Incarcerous.” Ropes started to coil around me.

“Can we not today?” I asked calmly, trying to reason with my kidnapper, “I’ve got a date. How ‘bout you let me go, and we can pick this up next period? And trust me, I won’t bail. I’d be happy to miss Potions.” I said, turning on my pansexual white boy charm.

My captor chuckled humourlessly, “You fucking idiot.” He mused, “With all the warnings I gave you, you’d think I was asking for a reason not to do this. But no. I am going to enjoy every ounce of pain I cause you.”

“Who are you?”

“Lumos.”

At first, everything was a blur, the sharp light a hard contrast to the previous darkness. Then, the silhouette solidified into a person, “Goyle?” I was so surprised, I actually laughed out loud, “What are you gonna do, turn my shoes into slugs? Honestly, we both know you’re horrible at magic. You’ve only ever passed, like, one exam.”

Goyle scoffed, “That’s not the point I’m trying to make here, fuckface. Do you remember what that one exam was?”

“What?”

“The one exam I passed. What was it about?”

“I don’t—”

“It was about the unforgivable curses.” Goyle said with a murderous grin, “And I passed it with flying colours.” He leaned closer to me, “Would you like me to demonstrate?” he whispered.

“I’d prefer it if you didn’t, actually. So why don’t you just put the wand down, and—”

“Crucio.”

The pain was excruciating. Imagine every fiber in your body snapping and rejoining over and over again. Then multiply it by ten. When he finally let up on the curse, I looked up at him, my fear visible, “Why?” I managed to ask.

Goyle chuckled, “Do you want me to start at the beginning?” He didn’t wait for an answer. “In November, you pushed me. Made me spill ink all over my new robes. So I sent lightning your way.”

“Because I pushed you?” I asked, “That’s a bit—”

“In December,” Goyle interrupted, “You called me a virgin. Embarrassed me in front of all of your petty little friends.”

“They’re not petty—”

“So I decided to kill you.” He let that sink in for a moment before adding, “Unfortunately I missed. Hit that other boy instead.”

“That ‘other boy’ was Charles Zabini. You murdered your best friend’s brother.” I told him, aghast.

Goyle just scoffed, “Best friend?” he repeated, “I would never be friends with that fag.”

A.N.

Goyle is the homophobic shitbag, not me. I support any LGBTQ+ readers, and identify as bisexual myself. I believe you will all agree with and join with me in saying, “Vincent Goyle is the worst person ever. Honestly just fuck off, man.”

As soon as he said the word, my hatred towards him grew twenty times, “That what?” I asked, glaring at him and clenching my fist. If only I’d had my wand.

Goyle ignored me and continued, “In January, Weasley was being a perv. So I ripped out his eye. In February, Longbottom elbowed me. The black eye lasted three weeks. So I sent her letters day after day until she finally broke. In March, you decided to piss me off with a prank. So I pushed your girlfriend into the lake with a squid under the Imperius curse.”

“That was you?” I asked angrily, pulling against the ropes.

“In April, you were dumb enough to prank me again! So I slit Thomas-Finnigan’s throat. In May, Longbottom got us both detentions. But since she wasn’t around, I shot Potter instead.”

“You could’ve killed them!” I protested.

“If I wanted to kill them, they’d be dead.” Goyle told me.

“You wanted to kill me and I’m still alive.” I said before I could stop myself.

Goyle smiled his evil, twisted smile and whispered menacingly, “All in due time. Crucio.”

He held the curse for about five minutes. Five minutes of complete and utter torture. I felt my sanity shaking loose with every second. When he finally let up, my throat was hoarse from all of the screaming. I prayed to whatever gods there may be that he hadn’t cast any silencing spell on the room.

“Do you know why I hate you, Lupin?” Goyle asked suddenly.

“Enlighten me.” I said, still catching my breath.

“I hate you because of your father. A werewolf.”

“Oh, so you’re homophobic and racist?” I noted.

“Shut up.” he said, punching me in the gut. I obeyed. “Did you know that it was a werewolf that killed my parents?”

“Okay, I’m sorry for your loss, but what does that have to do with me?” I asked, genuinely confused, “It wasn’t my father that killed them.”

“Doesn’t matter. They’re all the same.” Goyle spat.

“That doesn’t even make a little bit of sense.” I told him.

Goyle sighed, “You’re right. It doesn’t. Unfortunately for you, this is really fun, so…Crucio!”

This happened again and again and again. I lost track of the time I spent screaming in agony. I felt so numb that I hardly noticed when James ran into the room, limping, shortly followed by two professors. I was vaguely aware of the fight happening in front of my eyes as James untied me. But I remember the look on Goyle’s face as he was tackled to the ground. Victory. He was fucking proud of what he’d accomplished. I don’t think I’ve ever hated someone more than I did then.