#so when they kill them off then it's like well at least you had the lgbt+ story at all!

[fromchaostocosmos]

Far too many non-Jewish people do not know these things:

Two thirds (2/3) of European Jewry were wiped out

Of the 1.1 Million people killed in Auschwitz 90% of them were Jews.

It has been 80 years since the Holocaust and we still have not recovered the numbers we had from before the Holocaust and we are not likely to reach that number (16 million) for at least another 25 years, G-d willing no major tragic events happen, in 2050.

The Holocaust did not just happen in Europe/effect Jews in Europe. Jews in the USA were impacted and Jews in the MENA were very much effected due collaboration between many leaders of MENA countries and the Nazis. In fact there were Labor camps as well as Internment Camps in North Africa. Maghrebi Jews were even deported from North Africa and sent to Death Camps.

The Nazis had a strict view as to what society should look like and what families should look like. The ideal was a man and woman who were capable of bearing children.

The Nazis bought into and spread lust-libel and the also found Jews to be perverse because of cultural norms and how we perform gender.

The classic Jewish man, the idealized, so to speak, Jewish man is one who is likes to learn, is more soft spoken, curious, in touch with his emotions and able to express them, is poetic, sings, has an appreciation for the beauty of nature and the world, is humble, compassionate, good with children, and is kind.

Our women we like to have backbone, be strong, be the heads of the family, to have last word and the final say. The one who looks danger in the eye and with words alone beats it down to nothing. The one who carries the family and community on their backs. The one who feeds a man salty cheese, gives him wine to sate his thirst, and once he drunk and asleep kills with the peg from her tent. The one who with her handmaiden will walk into behind enemy lines and cut off the head of general and bring it back to her people. The one who lead her people as prophet, a war general, and hold court and give wisdom while under sitting under a palm tree. There is a reason that on Friday night a song is sung to the women called Eshet Chayil, Woman of Valor, that praises and extols them and that Chayil which means Valor also can mean solider.

So you know not really fitting in with western view of gender roles.

So there is all that going on plus the several hundred years to at least a millennia of Christian antisemitism at play as well.

Now the field of psychology was still relativity newish, but it was a field that did attract a fair amount of interest from Jews which is why there are a fair amount of Jews in beginning of psychology.

So that also became something that the Nazis were very much against and saw as a Jewish plot which is why they took a very look outlook on mental health and any close to that.

There were also Jews and most famous of them Magnus Hirschfeld, studying sex, gender, and attraction and how those do and do not interweave with each other.

So that also became a Jewish plot according to the Nazis to destroy society.

Then because Germany was on the losing side of WW 1 and due to the peace treaty they signed they had to make a lot of concessions which obviously where not in their favor.

This had an overall negative impact on the German economy. And then on top of that there was the Great Depression all of which ended up making Germany money essentially worthless.

So there was rampant poverty and when there is rampant poverty there is going to be a lot of homelessness because you are to have a lot people who have no money and no way of making money and this was also at a time when jobs where not plentiful, lots of factories and business were being closed because their owners could not afford to keep them open and/or afford to pay their workers.

So the homelessness, poverty, and losing WW 1 also became a Jewish plot, according to the Nazis, to destroy Germany and her people.

So something had to be done about the horrible problem. Well when you an infestation of vermin and they are ruining everything you get rid of the vermin so it was time to get rid of the vermin. That is what the Nazis would say.

The question eventually became how exactly to get rid of said vermin and how quickly and permanently and that is when they went from Jews if they could afford to leave could leave to the Final Solution.

So everything the Nazis did was through a lens of this a Jewish plot and thus it must be destroyed.

Now the Romani were also seen as vermin like us so they were also viewed under that must be eliminated lens.

This is why Jewish and Romani people were the only ones put in Ghettos. This is why Jewish and Romani people were the only targeted on the mass scale our peoples were targeted on and sent to the gas chambers at mass scale that we were.

This is why our children and our elderly were sent to Death Camps and murdered. This is why our peoples were murdered and buried in mass graves. This is why often all that is left of our people is just ash and memories. This is why Josef Mengele did experiments on our people.

This is why our people and communities are scarred forever and we carry this generational and communal trauma with us for the rest of time.

If you are not Jewish and/or Romani you need to understand that you are causing immense pain and suffering. Just stop, enough is enough.

There is a reason that there is day to remember specifically the Jewish victims of the Holocaust and a day to remember specifically the Romani victims of the Holocaust.

This our history, our families, and our communities.

I am literally begging Queer people on this site to realize the Holocaust was not about them

Yes gay and trans people were also targeted, we're not denying that, but it was because homosexuality and transgenderism was seen as something caused by the Jews

The holocaust was about the Jews. Please stop pretending like it wasn't

[obsessedwithceleste]

You Can Say You Love Me Now

Theodore Nott x reader

Summary: A little fake dating trope, just in time for Valentine's day

word count: 3k

©️ obsessedwithceleste. all works posted here belong to me and should not be reposted or copied in any way or form.

It was the perfect plan really. Or it had seemed like it at the time. When fueled by frustration, love, and desperation, what could go wrong? Theo had loved you for as long as he could remember and he wasn’t afraid to admit that. To himself at least. But to you, well, that was a bit more challenging.

Coming from a pure blood family, a sacred 28 family no less, Theodore’s fate had been sealed long before he was even born. Destined to marry another rich, pure blood heiress, have children, and secure the Nott legacy another generation. All ridiculous nonsense if you asked Theodore. What was the point of tradition anyway? Pretty much everyone who cared was already dead, so what did it matter?

Unfortunately for Theo, his father was not dead and had been trying to find a suitable match for what felt like years at this point. Names of witches that Theo couldn’t even match a face to had been floated by, but Theo had spoiled each and every potential match and his father had been growing increasingly more agitated by the day.

That’s when it had struck him. Kill two birds with one stone. Get his father off his back and gain the perfect opportunity to win over the witch of his dreams. Was it a bit short sighted? Sure. But he wasn’t left with many options at this point and this was as good a plan as any.

“Please principessa, you know what my father’s like. And it would only be a few months.” Theo begged, following close behind you as you make your way through the labyrinth that is the Hogwarts library.

“I am not going to pretend to date you for a few months Theodore. Or at all. That’s actually insane. Besides, no one would believe it anyway. We’ve known each other for how long? No one is going to buy the idea of us just now deciding to go out. Especially not your father. Do you know how long my mother has been trying to set us up?” you sigh, plucking another book off the shelf.

You had known Theodore practically your whole life. The two of you had been best friends since before you could walk. Your earliest memories involved waddling around the gardens of his family’s manor as your mothers watched on in thrilled bliss. There was simply no way the two of you would be fooling anyone.

“Well that’s just it isn’t it? Father has been hounding me to court you for ages, he’ll be too relieved to care,” Theo replies, an air of desperation creeping into his voice.

"Yeah, And what do you suppose we'd tell them hmm?" You ask.

"Don't know. We wanted it to happen naturally or some other sappy story. They'll eat it up."

You give your friend a pointed look. This was not the first time he had presented you with a half-baked plan that was certain to go wrong at some point.

“You’re being so ridiculous right now Theodore, this easily makes it on the list of your top ten stupidest ideas.”

“You keep a list?”

“It’s alphabetized.”

Theo has the nerve to look offended.

“Please principessa? I know your family has been on you too. This will buy us both a little time at least,” Theo protests. "Just think, we tell them over winter break, string it along awhile, and then after we've gone our seperate ways we're just too broken hearted to even consider any other possibilities for the future."

In all fairness, the boy was right. Your family had been bothering you for months now, asking if you’d found a special someone. You'd known when Theodore's father began ramping up the pressure for him to find a match that your family wouldn't be far behind, but it was honestly starting to get to be a bit ridiculous. And exhausting.

"It's not even completely incomprehensible. We've been mistaken as a couple before." Theo continues to press.

You glare at your friend, eyes rolling at the mere memory.

six months prior

It had been another one of your mother's usual, stuffy garden parties. The sun had been beating down on you all morning and all you really wanted to do was throw your blasted shoes across the lawn. Who thought it was a sensible idea to be out on the garden's cobblestone paths in scorching heat for hours at a time? This was not your idea of a good time.

"Principessa," Theodore greeted, arm wrapping comfortably around your waist.

"Don't even start, Theodore," you grumbled, leaning into the boy. "I'm tired, I'm hungry, and if my mother tries to make me join one more conversation about the Ministry or some such I'll set the whole garden on fire."

Theodore just laughed, pulled you closer.

"C'mon love. We can sneak off to the lake I reckon. Berkshire just arrived so the mums will all be too busy throwing him at the Greengrass sisters to notice."

Had you felt a bit bad leaving Enzo to the wolves? Sure. But still, you had let Theodore lead you down the path to the lake, collapsing onto the lawn sofa that was perched almost picturesquely on the patio overlooking the glassy water.

You had closed your eyes, feeling yourself relax into Theodore as his fingers combed methodically through your hair. You didn't know how long the both of you had been sitting there simply basking in each other's company when an excited gasp jolted you from your peaceful bliss.

"Oh! Oh my!" the shrill voice of one of your mother's airheaded socialites tittered. "I wasn't aware the both of you were courting! Oh your parents must be so pleased- what with your families being so close and all-"

"We're not courting." You interjected, holding your hand up to stop the women mid sentence.

She had stuttered awkwardly after that before finally shuffling off. Had you been a bit harsh? Perhaps. But you simply hadn't been in any sort of mood to deal with the notion of dating your best friend.

Theodore hadn't said a word, but you could feel him recoil ever so slightly. Not enough for anyone to notice if it hadn't been you. And things were a bit, strained, for the following days. If you could even call it that. And then things went back to normal as if nothing had happened.

You would have forgotten the whole thing, brushed it under the rug as something to laugh about in a few years, if it hadn't left a nagging feeling in the back of your mind.

You had never even allowed yourself to think that you could ever end up with your friend. Sure, years ago your mothers had shared the fantasy of the both of you ending up together one day. You were sure your mother was still convinced it might happen. But no. He would be auctioned off to the family of some wealthy heiress and you would be matched with some boy your parents deemed suitable. It was just how things worked.

Your feared your father was wearing going to wear through the carpet at any moment with the way he was pacing back and forth in front of the fireplace. Your mother sat twiddling her fingers on the sofa across from you, watching your father in exasperation.

Theodore was quite pleased with himself. To be completely honest he really didn't think he'd get this far. But sitting smugly on the sofa of his father's office, arm wrapped securely around you as he faced not only his own father, but your parents as well, he felt on top of the world.

"Well? Is it true? Are you?" your mother asks, finally breaking the silence as she had apparently given up on your father being the first to speak.

Your father had stormed off to Mr. Nott's office before you could even let out a breath, and by the time you and Theodore had finally slunk into the room, your mother was already doing a piss poor job of hiding her excitement.

It had always been a dream of hers for the both of you to end up together one day. It was hardly a kept secret. Maybe Theodore had been right and their blind excitement would stop them from asking too many questions because this was truly horrific.

"Of course it's true! It better be! The way I found him all over y/n," your father interrupts.

Mr. Nott just gazes on, eyes seemingly boring into your soul as Theodore meets his father's stare with cool, nonchalance. The smug bastard.

"Oh it's all we ever hoped for!" Your mother gushes, eyes falling onto the portrait hanging on the wall of the late Mrs. Nott.

"Well. That settles it then. They'll begin courting. Or whatever it is they call it these days," Mr. Nott says finally. "But there will be no more of this, nonsense. Not under my roof."

a few minutes earlier

"After further reassessment, this is the stupidest idea you've ever had," you hiss. Glaring at the brunette boy in front of you.

You were currently perched on one of the many desks lining the library walls of Nott Manor. Theodore was pressed up against the side, warm hands on your thighs holding you securely in place and sending shivers down your spine.

"Hush amore. How else will they be convinced we've been hiding a relationship, hmm?" He asks, slowly guiding one of your arms up to wrap around his neck.

"Oh I don't know. Suppose we just tell them? Ever think of that?"

"Yeah, and how would that go? Hey mum, I've been secretly seeing the son of your dead best friend who you've been trying to set me up with for ages. This is definitely not a distraction. Please believe us." Theo scoffs.

"I'm being serious," you respond, giving the boy a light whack on the shoulder. "When I agreed to the whole 'pretend to go out' bit, this is not what I had in mind."

"We've kissed before," Theo drawls, all nonchalance.

"You know that's not the same Theodore."

Before Theodore is able to respond, likely with another of his dry quips that you had grown to adore (not that you'd ever admit it), the door of the library swings open, footsteps echoing on the marble floors.

You don't even get the chance to fully take in the reality of the situation before Theodore's lips are on yours. It's slow and soft and warm as you feel his thumb softly brushing circles on your inner thigh. A soft gasp escapes you as you melt into the boy.

"What is the meaning of this?" Your father's cutting voice calls out, breaking you from your trance.

You jolt away from Theo, eyes snapping up to meet your father's, face flushed with embarrassment. Theo on the other hand looked quite self-satisfied. Oh you were going to kill him later.

"Both of you. Into the office. Now." Your father snaps out, looking like he was wishing he could obliviate himself in that moment.

"How long are we going to keep this going?" you ask, eyes not quite meeting Theo's as you lean your head against him. It was another warm night in which you and Theodore had managed to sneak up to the astronomy tower.

Your visits to the astronomy tower had started back in fourth year. It seemed like forever ago. And now you looked forward to nothing as much as nights spent with Theodore gazing up at the sky. The nights were different now though, you supposed.

It had been what? Five months now? You were almost certain it was five months, but those months seemed to have flown by in bliss. You hadn't realized how easy it would be. You and Theodore seemed to have been carefully tip toeing the line between friendship and more for years. You simply hadn't put the pieces together. It had been a bit clunky at first sure. Awkward maybe. But this was perfect. Standing in Theodore's arms as the stars above you seemed to go on forever. Perfect.

three-ish months prior

"Shut up. Shut. Up. You're joking," Daphne squeals, eyes locking onto your fingers which are tightly interlocked with Theo's as you enter your dorm room.

Something you seemed to have overlooked when agreeing to Theodore's dating scheme, was the fact that an integral part of the plan involved selling the lie to your closest friends.

It was much more difficult than you had anticipated.

You had spent the first initial month spending all your free time with Theodore, never really leaving his side. Apparently this didn't seem out of the ordinary. The flowers sent to your dorm didn't elicit a single reaction from your roommate, nor did Theodore's constant pet names. No, what really did it apparently, was the hand holding. Scandalous.

Your friends never failed to miss an opportunity to humble you.

"Took them long enough. Don't know why you're so shocked Daph," Mattheo replies dryly from his spot on the floor, papers scattered around him. He doesn’t even bother to look up.

"Well duh. We all knew they'd end up together eventually. Just didn't think they'd figure it out while we were still in school." Daph responds matter of factly. “Ugh. I owe Pansy 25 galleons now.” She groans, a frown appearing on her face.

"We can hear you, you know," Theo drawls, raising an eyebrow.

"Well it isn't as if the two of you have been subtle about it. Always holed up together in the library for hours at a time doing gods knows what."

"We study together," you reply, feeling the need to defend yourself.

"You’ve also attend every single ball together since, ever," Mattheo adds.

"Better that then go with whatever tossers our parents dig up."

"I've found the both of you asleep in Theodore's bed on more than one occasion."

"As friends."

"Right. You'd sleep together as friends, but drew the line at hand holding." Daphne says dryly. "You're both hopeless."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"Y/n, I damn near saw you hex Theo's hand off in fifth year when he tried to hold your hand, and even that wasn't solid proof that you two weren't already going out." Daphne snorts. "Hopeless."

"C'mon Daph, let's leave the love birds to it then," Mattheo says, gathering his papers. "Make good choices. Don't do anything I'd do," he calls as the two of them make a quick exit.

As soon as the door slams shut, you turn to look at Theo as if to ask 'what on Earth was that about?'

“They make fair points,” he says with a shrug, pulling you onto the bed with him.

"We weren't being obvious about anything Theodore. There was nothing there to begin with." You reply, allowing him to pull you onto his chest.

You knew there hadn't been anything there before, or at least you thought there wasn't, because this was all very new. Sure before you might've fallen asleep in the same bed after staying up until 3 am studying for your charms exam, but you'd certainly never seen Theodore look at you like this before. And you'd certainly never felt his hand creep under your shirt to rub soft circles across your rib cage. You'd definitely never felt your heart try to beat out of your chest like this. Or maybe you had.

"Is it really so absurd to think we've always been so close?" Theo asks, eyes very clearly focused on your lips. Not that you noticed of course.

"Maybe not," you reply, letting your head fall to rest on the boy's chest.

This was nice you thought to yourself as Theo's lips pressed a soft kiss to the top of your head.

"How long do you want to keep going?" Theo asks after a moment.

"Don't know," you reply, feeling his eyes on you as you continue gazing out at the sky in front of you.

"Another month?" Theo asks carefully, pulling you ever closer.

You can feel your heart begin to race at the idea of it all ending so soon. You shake your head.

"You want to end it sooner?" Theo asks, voice wavering ever so slightly.

You shake your head again. You hear Theodore's sharp breath as he realizes your implication and you feel yourself growing increasingly more nervous as the silence stretches on.

You'd really, truly never allowed yourself to consider the idea of ending up with Theo. You knew that simply wasn't how the world worked. And frankly the idea of rejection couldn't even be a possibility. You couldn't allow yourself to lose your best friend. Or maybe you could. This was all his idea to begin with after all.

"What if we just kept going?" You ask finally, feeling the weight of the world lift off your shoulders.

Theo's arms tear away from you as he turns you to face him, hand holding your chin firmly in place, forcing your eyes to meet.

"Don't play with me like this, principessa," he says, voice all seriousness as his eyes scan your face, searching for anything that might suggest you're joking with him.

"I'm not."

And just like that, Theo's lips are on yours once more. They seemed to find themselves there a lot lately, melting your mind to absolute mush as he pulled you closer. You could feel your back, now pressed up against one of the marble pillars of the tower as Theo's lips moved slowly from your lips to your jawline, and carefully down the side of your neck.

"You can say you love me now," He whispers into your ear, his warm breath giving you chills as his hands continue to wander.

"I love you," you gasp out.

"Sorry, who?" he pushes, leaving little pecks across your jawline once more.

"Theo. I love you, Theodore," You say finally, just as Theo presses another kiss to your lips.

"And I love you, amore."

Did I start this well over a year ago? Yes I did, thank you for asking. Did I change the title three different times? Absolutely I did. Am I posting this before editing? Also yes. Cope.

[divab0dy]

dirty AND messy

contains: smut MDNI!!! domestic as FUCKKK, smoke weed, high sex, tired sex, nicotine/vape usage, really in love hamzah, established relstionship

authors note: erm this has been in the works for like a month and lowkey a self insert...

it was a saturday for you guys, and hamzah and you did saturdays like no one else. you had both gotten out of bed, made cereal breakfast, smoked, and promptly climbed back into bed half asleep. that damn morning indica was going to kill you.

"hamz," you whisper.

"yeah?" he matches your tone.

"are you awake?"

"no," he chuckles.

"well then wake up," you say, turning over to face him.

he smiles lazily and shifts to be closer to you, your knees moving between each others.

"why would we do that," you smile.

"i didn't know," he sighs.

"i'm so tired now, i won't be able to do anything all day."

"yeah?" he slides his face closer to yours across the singly satin pillowcase. him and his damn hair care.

"mhm," you bring your hair up towards his hair, twisting your fingers into his curls.

he closes the gap, moving slowly towards you, stopping, his lips hovering over yours. "you're so fucking beautiful," he breathes.

you let out a breathy laugh.

"i'm serious. i'm gonna marry you one day. you know that?" he smiles against your lips.

"maybe tell me again."

he laughs and finally presses his lips onto yours, capturing your bottom lip between his. you suck on his top lip, before swiping your tongue over the crease between his lips, far too high and far too comfortable with him to take things slow. he hums and lets you in, greedily, almost more excited than you. almost.

you roll back, pulling him atop you, wrapping your legs around his back, all in one motion.

"someone's eager," he breaks the kiss.

"you know how touchy feely i get when im high," you smile against his lips.

"this is a little more than touchy feely don't you think? this is more like horny needy."

you laugh and grab him by the hair, pulling him back into you, shoving your tongue into his mouth with more need now that he's said it out loud.

you tug on his shirt and the whole room feels like it's on fire, kissing each other with a passion that neither of you have felt from anyone else. he pulls back and sits up on his knees removing his shirt, taking the time to carefully slot himself between your legs again.

"want you," you whine as you wrap your arms around his shoulders.

"don't you want to take things slow," he almost laughs, referencing last night, slow cowgirl, even a little candle.

"no," you hook your fingers into his boxers. "it's way to early for that," you finish.

he sits back again to take off his boxers. "isn't it a little too early for all of this?" he smiles as you shimmy your boxers off.

"it's like 11" you sigh as he gets back on top of you.

"you think you're still stretched from last night?" he asks, bringing his hand down. he runs his fingers over your leaking hole, not even bothering to press them inside.

"i don't really care, i just want you to fuck me," you wrap your legs around him.

he laughs and lines himself up. "definitely still stretched" he comments as he pushes himself in.

that couldn't be true. you're pretty sure you could fuck him thrice a day and never get used to it. it's not painful, but it's definitely a stretch.

your blunt nails grasp at his back, letting out a heady moan as he bottoms out.

"shit," you sigh. at least he knows to give you a moment to collect yourself.

whenever he fucks you like this, high and out of it, the only thing you're actually out of is everything going on around you. it's so easy to hyperfocus on him practically throbbing inside of you. the creek of the bed drowns out and all that's left is is the soft clapping of skin.

he slowly pulls out of you squeezing his eyes shut as he does so. he would never get used to the feel of being inside of you. the way you claw at his back, the way your heels dig into his thighs to pull him back in. every high you chase, every glass you break, every moan you make, it all makes him fall deeper in love with you than he ever thought possible.

he pushes back into you with little resistance, the sounds of your sopping cunt amplified through the high.

you clench down on him as he rubs against a spot only a few inches inside of you, just out of reach of your fingers. you could never make yourself feel the way hamzah makes you feel. he knows your body better than you do at this point.

you lazily reach towards your side table, grabbing your mexico mango geek bar and bringing it to your lips as he stars a steady pace. he laughs as you inhale and bow it out into his face.

"really?" he asks, pace now slowing.

"trying to kill this high," you sigh, still feeling tired from the weed.

"before the climax?" he's so proud of his own joke. no one finds hamzah funnier than hamzah.

"enough, let's pot that mouth to good work boy," you push the geek to his lips and watch as he takes a long inhale.

he grabs your face with one hand, holding himself up with the other arm and forces your mouth open to shotgun you. you inhale the smoke with ease.

"fuck that was hot," you breathe.

he reaches down and begins to rub your clit, making you gasp into him. he changes the angle, moving lower, now practically hitting your cervix with every thrust.

"hamzah im close," you grasp onto his bicep.

"i know baby, i know," with that he's rubbing your clit faster.

"fuck hamzah, i'm gonna cum." at this point your hips are undulating into him, practically fucking yourself onto his cock.

he kisses your cheek as your head turns to the side and that does it for you. you're cumming around him with a cry shaking on his cock.

it's only another thrust of pure overstimulation until he's cumming inside of you, whining as he does.

his hot break fans over your as he's overstimulating you even further, pushing his cum as deep into you as possible. he'd always been like that, even before you guys were dating, when he was still fucking you with a condom. some deep primal instinct that only came out when he was fucking you.

"fuck," he sighs, pulling out and flopping down next to you. he lazily throws an arm over you, pulling you back into him.

"that definitely killed my high," you giggle.

[midnight-mourning]

Love Bites

💘💘Midnight's DCA Valentine's Day 8💘💘

Okay okay okay, back on track now, please enjoy this little diaster i made based on @divinit3a's yeti boys, it was, quite fun >:3c

Prompt: umm letseee... valentines...Typically the Sun is not Out.... (for... Reasons... ahah.) but----loves to hunt, and hunt for the thrill/sport/game of it. And loves to eat & eat & would love a properly cooked meal. preference to high protein meals, very rich, very tasty, salty & fatty. so Im sure if u wanted to tackle him, in particular, could have fun with that..... (Slaps a giant fish on the table. Token of affection. Totally Wont Eat You ) The Moon.......... is a lot quieter and subdued, but actually a far better caretaker. takes care of hurt animals; would probably take care of a hurt human, too. mmm hot cocoa. much pickier eater, he doesnt like much, and he doesnt like to eat meat.... I think overall, a 'meal together' would be the best valentines fhgjsdfghjsdf WITH THESE FREAKS IN PARTICULAR...

Word Count: 2907

Read here if you prefer ao3!

💌💌💌💌💌💌💌💌💌💌💌💌💌💌💌💌💌

The hall is quiet as you step out from your room. You strain to listen for any sign of life, nothing. Must be out. Good. That gives you more time. 

Your eyes take a moment to adjust to the shadowed hallway, not nearly as bright as your windowed room. Though, you weren't opposed to keeping the lights off. It saved energy for one—which meant warm floor beneath your feet as you pad through the facility—and two, it kept the not as friendly yeti from making an appearance. Which, yourself and Moon were both in agreement about at least. 

When you'd first gotten here, so many months ago now, your first encounter with the yeti, robot, thing—you still haven't quite figured that one out—was less than, pleasant. Though, that may very well have been due to the state he first saw you in. Which was bloodied, bruised, and vulnerable. And as Moon would later explain it to you, that had triggered something in counterpart. Something more instinct than logical. 

Luckily for you, a ragged chase into a darkened cavern had saved you from suffering any further injury, or worse. 

Instead, you got Moon, and he was thankfully much calmer than the other bot. He also wasn't trying to kill you, so you took what you could get. He patched you up, gave you a place to stay, a nice warm bed out of the cold, and plenty of things to do while you recovered. 

When you'd first ventured out into the snow, having heard the rumors of the 'ice devil' you'd be facing, this hadn't been what you'd expected. 

Delivish upon first glance, sure. Those tusks didn't help anything, that's for certain. Not to mention Sun as a whole, the manic energy he radiated, the wild look in his eyes, the raw strength as he'd pinned you down to "Try a bite"—

But still, with Moon at the very least, the rumors didn't match up. 

He was quiet, even a bit stern in certain cases, but polite. He took his directives very seriously, but beyond that, he held a compassion you wouldn't ever have expected of a machine. Though, maybe it was because he was a bit more than that, they both were. 

Regardless, you owed him for not abandoning you out there in the frozen tundra to die. Much less putting in the effort he had to care for you.

As you traverse the hall now, there's only the slightest pain still left in your ankle as you shuffle. You'd left the crutches behind today, as you had been the past several mornings, despite the lunar-themed yeti's insistence for otherwise. 

That was another thing, the care. For a so-called devil, he had the attitude of a saint. Or well, you didn't know any saints, so a good friend then. A very good friend, at that. 

You found yourself in long conversations that would last hours, either listening to that quiet tone regale you with stories of all his travels, or sharing some of your own experiences prior to meeting them. You enjoyed the walks you'd take together through the caverns, or going with him out into the arctic—on the rare trips he would allow you with your injury—to scout for poachers and the likes. 

And those rare moments you could get him to laugh at one of your jokes, it lit something inside you that you couldn't describe. Something that albeit would be a bit more frightening than it already was if not for your situation. 

You think the combination of getting your foot caught in a bear trap, freed and then chased by a rabid yeti-bot, and then saved by the other side of that same yeti-bot, allowed you some freedom when it came to your feelings. 

But that wasn't the point to what you were doing. Rather, you wanted to show your appreciation for Moon, not your feelings. Nevermind the fact that today did just so happen to be Valentine's, having found out by checking the date on your half-dead phone. 

Besides, You didn't even know if it was even possible for him to return such affections. Truthfully, you preferred not knowing if it meant you could keep this peace you've had for so long now. You were almost afraid for when you fully healed. 

Afraid that the moment you could leave, you'd be kicked out, back into the cold to survive to find your own way back to society. That the past few months were nothing but a ruse, set up by Moon and in fact once you were at a good range, your back turned and unaware, Sun would bear down on you and—

You shake your head, no. Despite your initial encounter, Sun had been fine. He wasn't allowed out much, so you didn't speak much, though you also think he would prefer not to. It didn't necessarily have to do with you in particular, you don't think. 

Whereas Moon was more oriented to stay on task, Sun had his own personal drive to fulfill. You'd yet to figure out exactly what that was yet, however. Besides the desire to hunt and kill just for the thrill of it. Whatever it was, with your injury, you simply didn't fit into it. You had no use—for now—so he left you to your own devices. 

For now. 

You flip on the light to the kitchen area as you enter, dimmed lighting now illuminating the space. 

You'd been surprised to find there was indeed working cooking equipment in the research station. Not originally all in the same space, but with a bit of help, you'd dragged everything functional into one space. 

When it came to ingredients, you didn't have much to work with besides what either yeti brought to you. There was some very old canned food you'd found, and several containers of unopened spices, but beyond that it was slim pickings. The crate of hot coco you'd found had been a godsend. Considering the situation though, you weren't going to complain. 

The idea of making a meal had come from the simple fact of the matter that beyond hunting and protecting, Moon nor Sun did much else. So, providing nourishment would have to be your way to pay back their hospitality. Or at least, Moon's hospitality. If Sun enjoyed something you made, you'd consider that in and of itself a victory.

So, you set to work immediately. Opening the fridge, you pulled out one of the the few items in there, a massive bluefin tuna, which took up the majority of the space. You struggle to take it out, much less carry it with wobbling limbs over to the island. When you put it on the counter, you almost swear you hear it creak under the weight. 

You step back and let out a breath, admiring the giant fish for a moment. While the two really only ate for fuel—a fish like this would just simply be devoured as is from what you'd seen—you knew they could taste, and that when presented with chances to try something that was flavored in some regard, they did seem to enjoy it. Especially Sun, having taken one bite of your beef jerky and snatching the rest away for himself when you'd not been paying attention. 

Though you only had the one fish and just a few other ingredients to work with, you had several ideas in mind for how to properly utilize it. Taking the large butcher knife, you cleaned, gutted, and scaled it, and divided it up into proper pieces. 

The loin you'd make steaks out of, pan searing and basting in fats, utilizing the bit of pepper and spices you had available. You set aside three to cook and stored the rest in the freezer. 

The back you would smoke, creating some jerky from the pieces there. Thankfully, Moon kept firewood around in case the power failed entirely, and you doubted he would notice a few pieces going missing. You'd utilized one of the broken freezers for your smokehouse. 

The belly would be raw, sliced thin and served with a bit of the salty roe that you'd discovered inside the fish initially. 

As for the remaining bits of the fish, you'd stew the bones for a broth and fry the collar and cheeks as one final touch to finish off the meal. 

It was a lot, all things considered, and for them it may very well be next to nothing in comparison to their appetites, especially Sun's. But, that wasn't going to deter you from trying your best to make something from your heart. So, you got to work. 

You had no idea when Moon would return, so you tried your best to work both quickly and effectively. Thankfully, since several items were basic prep, they took very little time to come together. You enjoyed it, the process overall. After all the time being spent on you, being able to give back felt gratifying in its own way, exciting even. Again, ignoring your own feelings about the yeti. 

At some point, you even find a small radio, the batteries still good to your delight. Despite your location, you can just barely catch a signal as sappy love songs play from some far away station. You hum and dance and sing to the music as you cook, the time passing by like nothing to you in your focused state. You even are able to make yourself some hot coco, sipping on it throughout the cooking process. 

You're so focused, even, that you don't notice the towering presence hovering around the other side of the counter until you turn directly to face it. You were just setting down the last bit of the meal, ready to sit and wait for Moon's return, so color you shocked when you find yourself face to chest with Sun instead. 

His head cocked to the side as he looks down at you, expression unreadable as he examines you with that calculated stare.

"You've been busy." He states. 

You come out of your daze, shaking your head. "I-yeah. I have."

"Tore up the meat. A pity. I was going to enjoy that." He picks at one of his claws, you see a hint of red stained there before he glances back up to you, grin wide. "Though, it's not nearly as good as when it's fresh, anyhow."

You both know that fresh isn't quite what he's implying. 

You swallow, while you'd been expecting Moon—and would have preferred him, especially in this case—this was technically a gift for the day-themed yeti too.

Deciding you weren't going to let your lingering fear overtake you, you straighten up, and steady your voice. "This is all for you, actually. And Moon, of course. I, wanted to extend my thanks for, allowing me to stay these past few months." This again was technically all for Moon, but you couldn't exactly say that with Sun standing right in front of you. 

"I—Me?" He questions, eyes widening and grin falling. 

You nod. "Yeah, I um, figured that something made with a bit more care might be something you guys liked. I noticed you never really get the chance to... add more flavor to things, and you seemed to like my snacks in the past so, i just—" You stop when you find that he's eye to eye with you now, baring down on you with a serious expression you weren't anticipating. 

"You made us, me, a meal?" The way the words are half-snarled mere inches from your face makes you flinch. 

"Y-yes?"

Sun stares at you for a bit longer, and if you weren't so alarmed you'd move away. But you don't. 

After a few moments more, he huffs, then starts to chuckle, standing straight again. "Aren't you just so interesting, Little Star?" 

You feel confusion knit your brows only for them to shoot up in shock as Sun's hand suddenly grasps your chin, leaning in again. 

His other hand snatches one of the pieces of raw fish from the table, eating it in one bite. "Such an offering from you is, surprising but, despite your, obvious misconceptions about our relationship, I suppose I can consider it." He tilts your head this was and that. "You're not the worst option I've ever been presented with."

"I, huh?" 

He let's you go again, grabbing one of the steaks with his bare hands. His teeth tear through it like it's nothing. You can only watch as you try to understand what he's saying, not entirely comprehending it. 

When he's finished, he wipes his mouth, snickering to himself. "I certainly can't wait to see what he thinks of your proposition. I'm sure it will be entertaining to say the least."

Before you can respond, he walks over to the light switch, dimming the lights as low as possible, thus allowing for Moon to take his place. 

As the switch occurs, Sun makes one final remark, and it all finally clicks to you. "Something you should keep in mind though if I do accept, Sunshine, is that I don't share."

With that, you're left with an embarrassing realization, and Moon. 

You can't make eye contact with him, instead turning around and starting to busy yourself with cleaning up to distract from the burning feeling spread across your cheeks. 

You can't believe you didn't put together that something like this would mean something like that to them. But it's not like you would have known either! How were you supposed to understand the cultural differences between humans and yeti-robots that lived in abandoned research centers? This feels like something that was on them and not you to be honest. 

Your half-delusioned reasonings do nothing to stop the racing in your heart as you clean, and you just hope to finish up quickly, grab a snack for yourself, and get out of there to keep yourself from any further embarrassment. 

"It's very good, Starlight."

You pause for a moment, then hum. "Y-yeah?"

"Yes. The amount of flavor you've packed into each dish is... incredible." Moon says, sounding genuinely a bit in awe. 

It only worsens your state, mumbling back a quiet response. "I'm, I'm glad you like it."

Quiet between the two of you. The radio still plays softly throughout the space, only disrupted by the sound of clinking as you clean things up, or Moon's utensils scraping against each other. 

"So what Sun said—" "You should eat too—"

You both stop, and looking back to him, you laugh softly. 

You nod. "You first."

"Join me." He pats a seat next to him. "It's only fair after the effort you've put in."

"Oh! Okay." 

You try not to make a fool of yourself as you make your way over and sit down. You can only protest as Moon piles you a plate full of food, depositing it in front of you once he's finished. 

He hands you a fork, chuckling at the scowl on your features. "You need your energy too, if you want to stand any chance at getting better."

"You're not wrong." You sigh, taking a bite of the smoked fish. As you'd hoped, it's delicious, and you appreciate your own efforts to make such good food in that moment. 

"So,"—Moon reaches for a bit of the fried collar—"You were saying?"

You almost choke on the bite you just swallowed. You regain your composure to answer. "I, um, Sun mentioned, that um, something like this was very, very, important to you guys in a specific way. Which, honestly I didn't know and I'm so sorry if I've offended you I just wanted to do something nice—"

You're interrupted by a kiss pressed to your forehead. 

"I would say offended is nowhere close to the feelings you've elicited. Honestly." The night-themed yeti states, amusement between the words. "Rather, I find myself rather interested in your proposal, intentional or not."

Your eyes widen ever further. "Pr-proposal?"

"If I'm misreading, then I am sorry, Star. But I—"

"No!" You shake your head, trying again. "No, you're not um, misreading. But again this wasn't my intent at all. I'm definitely all for it. I mean, to a point you know, sorry this isn't something I ever expected to happen but I really do like you, a lot and—"

Instead of a kiss, a piece of tuna is pressed into your mouth, and with how good it is you can't say for sure that you'd prefer the kiss or not. As you chew, a slight scowl on your features, Moon laughs. It makes your heart flutter for a moment. 

"I really like you too. I wasn't sure that you'd feel the same, so I didn't act on those feelings. But, since you've shown that you clearly feel something,"—He snickers as you shoot him another glare—"For me, I'm more than happy to make it clear to you now."

"Gee, thanks." 

Another kiss is pressed to your hair, arm wrapping around you and you welcome it, snuggling into the warm fur next to you. You grab a piece of tuna, munching on it to hide your fluster in that moment. 

"And since he's already said it, I will too." Moon's voice is right next to your ear in that moment, low but lethal. 

"I don't share either."

💌💌💌💌💌💌💌💌💌💌💌💌💌💌💌💌💌

Thank you for the request @divinit3a!! I had lots and lots of fun with the yetis and i can't wait to see what else you do with them yourself, i may perhaps do a bit more when I find the time hehehehe

My writing Masterpost

DCA Valentine's Masterpost

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[ilguna]

☼ safer with you pt2 (Finnick Odair) ☼

summary; Finnick doesn't want you to join his alliance, forcing you to face the jungle alone, unaware of just how dangerous it can be. it doesn't help the careers are following you, and you can hear them.

warnings; swearing, weapon use, hallucinations, erm urine talk (you'll see what I mean), talk of killing, death mention (cannons)

wc; 4.8k

notes; so in part 1 i say that it's the second day of the games, but re-reading it, it made no sense so. i have decided that pt1 took place in day one of the arena and this fic will take place in day two because that makes the most sense lol. sorry for the inconsistencies.

part one

--

When you got reaped for the Quarter Quell about a week ago, you knew it would be hard coming back into the arena. You knew that memories you’ve spent years trying to drown would come flooding back, since there would be nothing to hold them at bay anymore. You knew you’d have to do things that would take forever to scrub from your consciousness again, if you even could this time. 

The only slightly comforting thought that came with it was the fact that you weren’t going to be alone. Not only would the victors around you be experiencing the same thing, but you would have at least one ally that you could count on to get you through the Games.

Well, it turns out that wasn’t the case at all.

You never thought you’d actually end up coming in alone, especially when it seemed like you had multiple possible alliances. The Careers wouldn’t have been so bad, if Brutus didn’t hate your guts so much. As soon as he got reaped, you had a feeling there would be an issue trying to ally yourself with them, which is why you made a couple low effort attempts to join them. 

Each time you were met with excuses on why they didn’t want you. First, it was because you were friends with Finnick. And when you told them that Finnick had barely talked to you the entire trip, it turned into the fact that you weren’t strong enough. After you scored a ten, you tried again and got met with the fact that they had already decided that they didn’t want any children with them.

Which was only frustrating because you’re not that much younger than Gloss and Cashmere, but you let it go for the sake of keeping the peace while you could. In the meantime, you kept trying to chip away at Finnick, hoping he’d eventually change his mind, too. 

He made it impossible, too. 

The only real conversation you had with him about an alliance was before the Tribute Parade, where you tried to suggest the two of you take over the arena, dominating it so you could make it home alive. He was extremely disinterested in that idea, flat out refusing to entertain it.

All bets were off after that. He wouldn’t talk to you about alliances. Every time you tried, he shut you down within the first couple of minutes, reminding you that his mind had been made up. If he wanted to be your ally, then he would’ve made a move already.

The final conversation you had about it was the night of the interviews. Right before you were going to be brought on stage, he pulled you aside to tell you that he was not going to back down from what he said. You were not invited into his alliance, and you never crossed their minds for a minute. You needed to let it go.

You hoped he was bluffing, which is why you spent so much time trying to find him in the arena yesterday, but he held his ground and made you leave.

You thought that at the very least, if you couldn’t have the Careers, or even Finnick, you’d be able to make friends out of the District Six morphlings, or Cecelia and Woof, or even Beetee and Wiress. But even they had their reasons why they couldn’t.

At every corner you turned, you were met with another wall closing in. No one wanted anything to do with you. Either because they couldn’t trust you due to your natural alliance to the Careers—a load of shit—or because they had their own thing going on that they couldn’t include you in because there were already too many people.

It’s left you on your own.

Which doesn’t bother you completely, you spent your last Games traveling the desert by yourself, searching for shelter that didn’t exist besides the Cornucopia. You know you can survive on your own, it’s the fact that you have to. That despite the many friendships you’ve tried to forge, not one of them wanted you. 

It’s a very lonely feeling that you have to battle alongside the paranoia. In all honesty, it made for a long and difficult night. Since there’s no one to watch over you, you couldn’t sleep because of the creeping feeling that someone could be nearby. And each time that feeling subsided, you were woken up by the arena in some way.

The lightning storm in the middle of the night was the first time you were jolted awake. You thought it wouldn’t last long, but when you realized that it wasn’t stopping, you were on edge. Not being able to hear the rustling of the jungle around you was off-putting. Anyone could sneak up on you if they wanted to.

You thought you were in the clear when the lightning finally stopped. The drowsiness began to win over, and then there was a cannon. And there would continue to be a cannon about every hour, every time you were about to sleep. After the third one, you gave up trying.

You’ve been up for a few hours now, sitting in the jungle, watching the moon sink into the trees on one side, while the sun rises on the other. It’s pretty early in the day, you’d say it can’t be any later than nine, judging by where the sun is. 

It’s slowly starting to get warmer in the arena as the morning goes on. It didn’t feel like the heat let off any last night, but it must’ve. If it’s going to be as hot as it was yesterday, you should probably get a move on. If you’re not dehydrated already, you will be by noon.

You’ve been sweating buckets, skin sticking to skin because of the humidity.

If it weren’t for the noises in the trees, you would’ve been traveling through the jungle an hour ago. You can barely hear it now, but before it was a low growling sound, as if there was an animal protecting its kill from another predator. 

For a while, you were afraid that you were the one being warned to back off, but every time you went to take a look around, you couldn’t find anything camouflaged in the greenery. Whatever it is, you figure it’s gone away now, to a safer place to eat what it’s caught.

A quiet sigh leaves you, you really don’t want to leave the shade, but you don’t have much of a choice. You pick your sword out of the grass and prop it up against the tree you were trying to sleep behind, before pulling yourself to your feet. 

You grab your sword, and then begin to wander down through the jungle toward the beach. Yesterday, when you were in the Cornucopia for the bloodbath, you weren’t able to grab anything besides a sword. You were hoping you’d be able to dig around in the boxes for a minute, but more districts know how to swim than you originally thought. 

No one’s going to be there now, since the center island is on display for everyone to see. The Careers usually like to use it as their homebase, but with twelve different ways to get in and out, it’d be too difficult to defend. All it would take is a decently-sized alliance to rush in from separate spokes, and the Careers would be gone in the blink of an eye.

So, they’ve got to be in the jungle somewhere, hunting down tributes. You’ll even bet that’s what they were doing last night, stumbling across sleepy victors and eliminating them without an ounce of hesitation. Three of your own, gone in the span of a few hours. You wonder if they even feel guilt. 

You don’t think you’ll actually be able to bring yourself to kill anyone in here, not even if they were threatening your life. All you’d be able to think about is the amount of memories you’ve made with the people in here, good or bad. Regardless if they’ve treated you terribly in recent years, or given you the best times of your life.

If any of them—Cashmere, Gloss or Brutus—end up winning, you don’t know how they’ll be able to live with themselves. Yes, they could come out with more fame and fortune than they’d ever need, but they’d never be able to escape the haunting feeling that they made a mistake killing all those people they once knew. 

And you know that you were thinking about dominating the arena with Finnick literally less than a week ago, but killing those around you never crossed your mind. You were more interested in the idea of resource guarding, especially the water source that the Gamemakers were going to provide.

Although, since traversing through the jungle, you’ve come to the conclusion that there is no main water source here. Well, besides the center lake, which doesn’t really count because it’s saltwater. And turning saltwater into drinking water is a long and tiring process that you have very little experience doing. 

That’s why you’re going to the Cornucopia. They have to have a sealed bottle of water or some sort of agent for making water drinkable hidden in one of those boxes. If you do find something like iodine, then it means there’s a pond or stream you just have to find. If not, then the Gamemakers have made the same grave mistake they made the last time you were in the arena.

You were in a desert, loose orange sand swirling the air occasionally due to a weak breeze. A blazing white sun beating down on you, no shade available as far as the eye could see. Besides the Cornucopia, of course, which had been taken over by the Careers, and they were refusing to step out of it.

You wandered for two and a half days through the sand, around the prickly cacti with the pretty pink flowers in bloom. You went as far as your legs could carry you, sweat soaking your shirt, your scalp wet to the touch. Your lips were dry and cracked, coated in tiny sand particles. 

You were delirious, dizzy, walking yourself in circles, mumbling nonsense. You eventually stopped to pee behind a cactus, not worried about decency because you knew the Capitol would cut away to give you some privacy, when you remembered what you were told by the experts in the Training Center.

In a lesson on purifying water and what to do if you couldn’t find any, it was strongly advised for you to avoid drinking your own urine in a desperate situation. Something about salt and how it could make the situation worse, but you really couldn’t wait any longer. You needed something to drink to wet your mouth and to get the tough feeling out of your throat.

As soon as that yellow bottle touched your lips, you were met with your first ever sponsor gift. Which was, of course, a giant jug of clean water. It was cold, condensation had begun to run down the side of the plastic as soon as it touched the ground. You knew you had to make it last, but you couldn’t help the first few gulps.

The main thing you’re grateful for is the fact that you never actually had to drink your own urine. The Gamemakers had come to their senses just in time to save you from doing that on live television. Either way, don’t be fooled, it’s not something you’re proud of almost doing.

It wasn’t until later, during your final interview in the Capitol with Caesar Flickerman, were you told that the original plan for the desert was to withhold water. It was an experiment to see how the tributes would react when they found out and how long it would take them to die. 

When the Gamemakers saw you on that screen, about to drink liquid that came out of your body, they cracked. They couldn’t let the Capitol citizens see it happen because it was too gross for them. Not the fact that it was inhumane and it shouldn’t have been the plan in the first place.

The only real good thing that came out of that whole situation was the fact that the Gamemakers made sure a water source was in every arena moving forward. The distance to travel to it didn’t really matter to them, as long as the tributes would have someplace to fill up their canteens, or whatever.

This is why you’re hopeful they have a stream of water somewhere, and it isn’t just the center lake.

Fortunately, it’s relatively easy to travel back down the slope of the jungle, then it is to hike it up. All you have to do is keep an eye on the ground and watch for any deceiving roots that appear like they’re not sticking out. Which is far and few between.

You like that it’s fairly quiet out here, it’s usually hard to find any sort of peace when you’re in an arena. The chirping of the birds and insects are so familiar and calming, that it would be impossible to miss the sound of the branch that just snapped behind you.

You hesitate on your next step, torn between coming to a complete stop to peer over your shoulder or running for your life. It could just be an animal in the jungle, so running would be a gross overreaction. On the same hand, it could be someone, anyone.

You raise your sword in front of you, tilting it to the side to use the reflection to see what it is that made the noise. This is a move you learned recently from a tribute who comes from one of the outskirt districts. You believe it was a boy from Nine, and instead of a sword, he had a scythe, or something along those lines. All you know is that it had a bigger blade.

Your heart leaps in your chest at the sight of Gloss attempting to creep up on you, entirely way too close for comfort. In a moment of fight or flight, your instincts choose the former, swinging the sword with a wide arc, gaining momentum to hit Gloss hard. He catches your weapon with his own, the sound of metal on metal clanging together fills the air.

That’s all it takes for the birds and insects in the trees to go silent.

You flip your blade flat against his, allowing you to place your free hand on your sword so you can shove him back to get him off of you. You try to be quick, slicing downward at his shins, but he’s prepared for this, blocking you.

If Gloss is going to predict every move you make, then you’re going to be in trouble trying to fight him off. Especially since you’ve never had the opportunity to watch him fight someone else without being interrupted. In the Training Center, he’d get sidetracked by Cashmere, or you’d get pulled away by one of the many training experts to polish off your experience.

It would be wiser to run than to engage in a fight. The problem that comes with this is he’s going to follow you, there’s no question about it. You could try to lose him in the jungle and escape to the beach, but he’ll find your tracks eventually. And this doesn’t even take Cashmere and Brutus into consideration. 

“What’s wrong?” Gloss asks, a smile hinting at the corners of his lips. “Haven’t had to fight anyone just yet?”

“Nope.” You tell him, slowly backing away, being careful as to where you place your foot. “I’m sure you have, though.” 

He makes a face, tilting his head while shrugging his shoulders. As if that’s a given and didn’t need to be spoken aloud. “You know how it is.”

You shake your head at him, lips pursed. “I don’t. I don’t feel the need to seek out friends and kill them.”

“What about if they come at you with a weapon?” Gloss asks. “It’s self defense.”

“You’re the one following me.” You raise your eyebrows.

“Only recently. We saw you coming down the hill and thought you might be able to lead us to Katniss.” 

“You’re shit out of luck. I’m not in an alliance with them.”

Gloss gives you a tight lipped smile. “I don’t believe you.”

“It’s the truth.” You take another step back.

Gloss raises his sword, you make a stab at him, forcing him to jerk back. Out of the corner of your eye, you catch Cashmere’s platinum blonde hair in the sun. She’s coming out from behind a tree, moving to join Gloss.

Where’s Brutus?

A creeping feeling spreads through your body. You spin around, paranoid he’s behind you, and find that your intuition is right. He’s less than five feet away, another minute and you’d be dead.

You can’t fight all three of them.

You don’t bother turning around to give a final jab to Gloss. Instead, you start running toward Brutus, sword raised in the air to bring down at him. He’s forced to decide whether or not he can take the hit, and just before you swing, he jerks out of the way.

The sword lowers to your side as you barrel down the jungle slope, heading for the beach. If you’re going to fight them, it’s going to be on a level playing field where the sand slows all four of you down. Otherwise, you might as well just lay down and let them kill you. 

The jungle seems to change as you go. It’s not really noticeable at first, since the trees and ferns turn into a blurry mess of brown and green. But then there’s mixes of dark grey and white that make your pace slow.

You turn to look over your shoulder, finding your Career friends are still coming your way, carelessly trampling through the spongy dirt. You watch as Gloss’s foot gets caught in a root, and in return, a flurry of arrows come raining down on them.

You watch as they duck in different directions, getting stuck with several arrows in their arms, legs and backs. As they take a moment to pull them out of their bodies, you eye the trees above, curious on where they had come from. They’re going to think it was Katniss, but there’s no way she can shoot twenty arrows at the same time.

You turn around, going back to running, trying to lose them while you can. You keep a careful eye on the ground, afraid of what other possibilities the jungle holds. All he did was trip over a root from one of the many trees, could it really have triggered an attack like that?

You don’t want to find out. 

It seems like Gloss, Cashmere and Brutus don’t want to either. They’re much more cautious now, but they’re still moving quicker than you are. Your efforts pay off, though, because you spot several areas of the ground where it’s too flat and looks a little too jungle-y. 

Which sounds insane in your head, but when you stab at the area as you pass, the ground falls in to reveal pointed wood spikes at the bottom of a ten foot hole. You can feel your stomach drop, feet slowing even more. 

You don’t remember all of this last night. It was a regular jungle when you were heading to the top. You tripped over several roots last night and never received a reaction like Gloss did. And there was nothing wrong with the ground, either.

The beach can’t be that much further, all you have to do is make it to the sand and then everything will be fine again. Well, that is until you get attacked by the Careers, but you can’t afford to worry about them until then. You need to keep heading forward.

As you continue, you try to take light steps, tiptoeing around the roots, stabbing at the ground, keeping an eye on the trees. It helps that they trigger several of the traps behind you, slowing them down, giving you more time to plan out your steps.

But all it takes is one misstep on your part for you to fall victim to the hidden terrors of this part of the jungle. You stomp on a rock, thinking nothing of it, until you feel a sharp pain on the back of your left arm. You stumble a step or two, instantly feeling lightheaded.

You reach over, hand securing around the foreign object, pulling it out of your body. You hold it in front of you, staring down at your hand that seems to elongate and shrink, making it hard for you to see what it is that punctured you. You squint, rolling it over in your hand, watching it multiply.

Something is wrong here.

You bring it closer to your face, accidentally bumping it into your nose. Reality seems to straighten after that, allowing you enough time to see that it’s a dart, and the needle is coated in a dark purple substance. You wipe it with your finger, raising it to your nose to smell.

It hits your nose with a sting, your face puckers as you jerk your head back. You know that smell. It’s tracker jacker venom. It’s so potent and sour. It’s one of those smells you can’t forget about, like the smell of a rotting body.

You look up, the jungle’s color has become more vibrant—alive. You shoot a look over your shoulder to find that Cashmere, Gloss and Brutus are still running at you, their bodies changing shapes, the ground moving as if there’s water beneath. The sight makes you nauseous, you swallow back the vomit and throw the dart in their direction.

When you go back to running for your life, it’s near impossible to keep alert. Either you watch the ground and avoid the traps, or you observe the jungle and find animals peeking out behind trees, snarling at you. 

You’re not sure how long this goes on for, where you trigger traps and narrowly avoid the consequence or end up getting stabbed by an arrow. All you know is that at some point, Cashmere gets caught in a net and she gets strung up in the air. It forces Gloss and Brutus to quit chasing after you to help her down.

You go as far as your legs will carry you, before the venom in your system becomes too much to bear. You lay down in a small patch of dirt that you come across, perfect hidden behind a tree and covered by long fern leaves. You tuck your sword beneath the plants, but keep it in arms reach in case you need to use it.

The word has begun to spin, the scenery around you changing into one more familiar, like the desert you escaped a couple years ago. You close your eyes, squeezing them shut, hoping that the venom will exit your system quickly.

When you wake, the jungle looks just the same as it did before you slipped into the hallucinations. The skin on your cheeks feel sensitive and raw, and your mouth is drier than it had been this morning. You sit up, taking a moment to gather yourself before you get to your feet.

Your legs feel like jelly, you use a tree to hold yourself upright. When they feel more solidified, you shuffle your way out from behind the tree, and find yourself just a couple of steps away from the beach.

You let out a sigh of relief, more than ready to leave the jungle for the time being, even if that means you’ll be put out in the open. You stop in the sand, squinting through the brightness of the sun to see where you are and figure out what time it is.

It looks like you’re on the left side of the Cornucopia, somewhat behind it. You can’t see the mouth from where you are, so if you still want to go there, you’d need to travel through the treeline of the jungle to get there. Or you could take the gamble and wander up. 

At this point, you don’t really care if anyone’s there. 

It’s late afternoon, you can tell by the sun in the sky. If you’re taking bets, you’d say that no one would be stupid enough to be at the Cornucopia right now. Maybe at night, but not in broad daylight, unless there’s a group there.

Which should leave you worried about the Careers, but it’s been hours since you saw them in the jungle. You’re not sure if they made it out alive, and you honestly don’t really care, either. You do know that they were injured because of the traps, so you’d say they won’t make another big move for a while unless it’s urgent.

You step out of the jungle fully, heading for the nearest spoke that’ll lead straight to the center island where the Cornucopia is. You’ll take your chances, just this once. You need water, and if you’re not going to get sponsored, then you need to find it yourself.

You’re not even halfway there when a face appears around the side of the Cornucopia, just briefly surveying the area. You come to a stop where you are on the rock, watching as the person decides to come out to see who you are. 

You can tell who it is almost immediately. How could you miss him? His sun kissed skin, the bronze hair, the silver trident in his hand. It’s Finnick, of course. And because of the conversation you had yesterday, you already know that he’s going to turn you away.

“I need water.” You tell him, not waiting for him to speak first. “If you have a problem with that, then you can leave.”

“There’s no water here.” He tells you, shaking his head. “We’ve been through the boxes.”

“I would like to look for myself.” You continue forward.

“You can’t come over here, (Y/n).”

“I can. If that makes you and your allies uncomfortable, then there’s eleven different directions for you all to go.” Your eyes are locked with his. “I need supplies. You’ve had your time here, now it’s my turn.”

“You don’t understand.”

“No, I don’t. And I don’t care to find out anymore.” You stop in front of him. “You can’t turn me away, I won’t let it happen. So, you need to figure your shit out quickly.”

Finnick has his lips pressed together, looking over your face. “What happened to you?”

“Exactly what I told you, yesterday.” You say slowly. “They found me, Finnick. And if it weren’t for a net in the jungle, I’d be dead.”

“Who found you?”

“Who do you think?” You snap. 

The two of you stand in a tense silence for a minute, thinking about the different ways you can handle this. Finnick must not think you’re worth the fight, though, because he backs away.

“Just keep quiet and follow my lead.” Finnick looks at the Cornucopia. “Like I said, the alliance is—”

“I don’t want to be part of your playdate.” You cut him off. “I’m over it. I’ll take care of myself.”

He doesn’t like that response, you can tell by the way he sighs. “You’re going to change your mind when you get around the corner.”

“We’ll see.” You wave him off.

Finnick leads the way, “No need to panic, it’s just (Y/n).” He warns.

You step around the Cornucopia, eyes searching the group that he’s managed to gather. Your face twists at the sight of the odd combination of Katniss, Peeta, Beetee and Johanna.

Johanna makes a retching sound, “What is she doing here?”

“Water.” You tell her plainly.

“Well, you’re not going to find any.” She says, head bobbing.

“We’ll see.”

There’s a moment of silence as you walk into the Cornucopia, flipping lids open, digging through boxes. You find one protein bar at the bottom of a box, and rip the wrapper open with your teeth, eating it as you continue.

“What’s that welt on the back of your arm?” Finnick asks.

“Dart.” You murmur. “Tracker jacker venom.”

A couple more minutes pass before someone clears their throat. “I can get you water.” You turn to see who it is, and it’s Katniss. She holds up a metal object that’s tied to her belt with a vine. “It’s a spile.”

You stand up. “How?”

“The trees. We just have to find a good one that’ll give us a steady stream.”

You look over at Finnick, he’s nodding his head.

“What do you want in return?” You ask.

Katniss lets the spile fall. “Nothing.”

“Then what are we waiting for?”

[incorrectly-quoting-murderdrones]

Weird fanfic I wrote at 1am

Picture a worker drone who’s read way too many trashy fantasy romance novels where the knight saves the princess from the terrifying monster. For comedy’s sake I’m calling them YN.

YN visits Outpost 3 with a caravan of other drones who have come to trade goods with the colony now that it’s safe for them to travel around outside. YN initially came along in hopes of finding the next book in their favorite medieval fantasy series. However, they had another goal in mind.

You see, the entire fight between Uzi and the Solver was no small event. The tremors from the planet were felt all across the globe. Eventually, stories began to spread about murder drones and a tiny worker who ended the evil. Unfortunately, not all of them were completely factual. Warped through word of mouth, YN’s colony had begun hearing rumors about “the tiny worker girl” and “the gigantic murder drone” that had supposedly taken her captive instead of killing her. The stories described the girl as short, smaller than normal workers, and as beautiful as the sunset with intelligence to match. The murder drone, however, was described as being anywhere from 6-8 feet tall with sharp teeth and claws stained black from the oil of his many kills. Supposedly they had first met under the moonlight on a clear evening. The Murder Drone had been planning to eat her, but saw her beauty under the pale moonlight and was immediately enraptured. He instead kidnapped the girl with the plans to make her his monster bride.

As overexaggerated as they were, YN was excited when they heard the rumors. This was just like one of their novels but with the worker girl as the princess and the murder drone as the terrible dragon keeping her captive. All she needed was a knight to slay the dragon and sweep her off her feet into a happily ever after. YN knew fighting a murder drone was a tall order, but where else were they going to get the chance to finally be one of the dashing knights they so revered?

The first thing YN noticed upon arrival to Outpost 3 was the pile of corpses stacked high into the sky. “That must be the dragon’s lair!”-they thought in excitement.

Now YN wasn’t stupid, at least they didn’t think so. They knew unarmed combat with a powerful murder drone was a death sentence. So in anticipation, they made preparations. Snuck along with their luggage, they brought sets of steel plates, each one perfectly tailored to fit their body and protect their vital areas as well as a much bigger, thicker plate with a leather handle that would serve as a shield. However there was something even more special in their stash. YN heard from stories that the fair maiden was incredibly brilliant and quite the engineer, so they thought they’d take a page out of her book in order to impress her. With painstaking trial and error, they had fashioned themselves a sword of untold power. The blade itself was a striking silver, with the sharp ends curving out before extending into a serrated point tipped with the a stinger and a canister of murder drone acid they found while scrounging the night markets for parts. The handle had an elegantly carved wrist guard, jagged and spiked to prevent being grabbed. Finally, after hearing about the murder drones weakness to sunlight, they attached UV lights to the exterior. YN’s sword was their pride and joy and was sure to destroy the dragon!

But right now it was nighttime when the dragon would be at its most active. If they wanted to pull this off, they’d have to crafty and sneaky. Breaking into the spire in the daylight while the beast was asleep would be the smartest option.

While waiting for the Sun to rise, YN took the opportunity to check out Outpost 3. The bunker wasn’t too different from their own, but signs of fighting and claw marks indicated it saw much more battle. Definitely a murder drone.

YN decided to ask around to gather information about the beast and the girl he stole. They need to be sure what she looks like after all! Eventually, YN bumped into a worker girl with wavy greenish blue hair and light blue eyes who introduced herself as Rachel.

When YN recited the legend to her, she had seemed confused at first before suddenly lighting up in recognition. Rachel was all too happy to fill in some of “details” of the tragic kidnapping of the Doorman’s only child: a timid, anxious young woman named Uzi with hair and eyes the color of fresh spring grapes who had sadly been too terrified to run away when the murder drone stole her, killing her best friend and Rachel’s sister Rebecca. Rachel confirmed that she was kept in the beast’s nest way up high in the rafters of the spire where he would do just the most awful things to her. YN almost turned and ran to go immediately find Uzi, but Rachel quickly stopped him.

“Oh and be careful!” She warned, “I’ve heard that that dastardly beast has done something to mind control her. If the poor dear tries to defend herself or the beast, don’t believe her words!”

At those words, YN turned and ran back to their room in the caravans, missing the evil gleam in Rachel’s eyes.

Carefully, YN crept into the den. It was…it was! It was surprisingly homey? A large nest made of blankets and fabrics and anything else soft likely pillaged from nearby apartments spanned the space of the floor. The walls were covered in pictures and childish crayon scribble drawings. Fairy lights, powered by a cable leading who knows where, adorned the ceiling.

In the center of the nest however, was a far less homey sight. There laid a large male murder drone, at least 6 feet in height, clothed in a black trench coat and a pilots’ hat. He was curled around something, clutching it in his grip while blanketing it with his large metal wings.

YN tiptoed around the nest to get a better angle and spotted the his princess! While shockingly alternative for drone that was supposed to be timid and maidenly, she was exceptionally beautiful even if her odd purple-yellow gradient eyes did give them pause. Like the murder drone, she was curled up and asleep.

Poor girl, forced to sleep next to a monster!

YN took a deep breath and readied their sword, prepared to stab the foul dragon as he slept.

YN crept closer to the sleeping beast, but as they shuffled forward, they failed to notice the empty oil can under their foot.

A loud crrnk echoed through the room.

YN’s core started thumping hard as the loud noise startled both drones awake.

YN stood straight and firm as the murder drone got to his feet. Spotting the armored worker, a confused look crossed his visor before he perked up and spoke.

“Oh hi! I’m so sorry, we weren’t expecting any visitors today!”

The beast can talk?!

“My name is N, can I help you with something?”

YN was speechless as their processors tried to decode the fact that the 6’6” hunk of metal made of death and nightmare fuel just greeted him like a welcome houseguest.

YN steeled themselves. Remember the stories! The monster was obviously just playing friendly to catch them off guard so he could eat them!

YN pointed his sword at N, “Foul beast, I have come to end your reign of tyranny and free the precious maiden Uzi from your foul grasp!!”

Unfortunately, N seemed more confused than intimidated.

“Tyranny? Maiden? Is this one of those dragon dungeon games Uzi and Thad keep telling me about?”

“What?! No!!! I’ve come to kill you and rescue the poor worker girl you kidnapped to become your bride!”

N opened his mouth to protest but YN wasn’t about to let a villain monologue. They launched themselves forward, swinging their sword directly at the base of his head. N quickly sidestepped them, switching his hands for claws as he raised them up in caution.

“Woah there Buddy! Are you sure you really want to do this?”

Was that a threat? So the beast finally shows his true colors!

YN growled and kept swiping at the taller drone. Eventually, N was able to catch the blade with his hands and hold it in place.

“You villain! You’re nothing but a monster: killing Rachel’s sister and stealing her best friend to become your wife! I was told of her timid and anxious nature and her gentleness! How could you terrify her like that?! I will avenge Rachel’s sister and bring Uzi home!”

“Who the FUCK are you calling timid and anxious? And what stories?!”

YN turned their head to the female drone, who decided to finally speak up.

“Lady Uzi, I was told the story of the short drone girl who was captured by a tall murder drone beast and-“

“Dude, shut up.” Uzi looked furious. “I was having a nice nap with my N in our nice den when you decided to wake us up with your weirdass medieval roleplay shtick!”

“I-“

“And then you decided to swipe that admittedly badass sword at the love of my life and accuse him of kidnapping me?!”

YN couldn’t believe what they were hearing. The small worker girl, the perfect princess to their story, was acting nothing like the maiden they had imagined! She just cussed them out!

Uzi continued, showing no signs of noticing-or caring about-the confusion writing itself across YN’s visor.

“First off, Bite Me! There’s no way I’d ever let myself get kidnapped to become some random disassembler’s trophy wife! Second off, I killed Rebecca, not N, and she sure as hell was not my friend. Rachel can shove her lies up her—“

At the mention of Rachel, YN remembered something important. Didn’t she say that the beast had mind controlled her?!

“—and thirdly-“

Before Uzi could finish, YN shoved her back towards the entrance with their shield and activated the UV lights on their sword. N howled in pain as the light seared and burned his arms and hands, letting go of the sword. YN acted quickly, severing his leg at the knee and the arm that was about to switch out for a gun.

“Any last words?”

N winced in pain but looked up at them and smirked, “Your stories got it wrong. The big, tall murder drone from your story isn’t the beast.”

“Oh? Then who is?”

N pauses before a massive grin splits his face.

“My wife”

As YN went to swing at his head, violent purple light surrounded their sword and shield, wrenching them out of their hands.

YN quickly turned around.

How could they be so foolish.

That tiny purple worker girl was no pure maiden.

Fleshy wings and a tail with eyes and teeth erupted from her back. Three grotesque fleshy but metallic tentacles shot out next, pinning YN to the wall and stabbing right through their abdomen.

“Wait, please, I didn’t mean—“

Their pleading was cut off as Uzi’s solver ripped their head off. The last thing YN saw was their romantic fantasy turned into horror.

[bestanimal]

Round 3 - Chondrichthyes - Hexanchiformes

(Sources - 1, 2, 3, 4)

The Hexanchiformes are a primitive order of sharks, of which only 7 species in 2 families remain. These families are the Hexanchidae (“cow sharks”, also called “sixgill sharks” or “sevengill sharks”) and Chlamydoselachidae (“frilled sharks”).

Hexanchiformes have one small, spineless dorsal fin located over or behind the pelvic fins and one anal fin. Their cartilaginous vertebral column extends into the long dorsal lobe of the caudal fin, while the ventral lobe of the caudal fin is either small or absent. They have either six or seven gill slits, a large mouth, and small spiracles located well above and behind the eyes. The eyes have no nictitating membrane. Hexanchiformes are most common near the ocean floor in cold, deep water in the tropics, but are also found closer to the shore in more temperate regions. Many of these sharks exhibit vertical migration, following prey closer to the surface at night, and submerging back to the depths during the day. Hexanchiformes are ovoviviparous and feed on yolk within their mother. They have litters of varying size, ranging from 2 to 108 pups, depending on species.

The Hexanchiformes date back to the Early Jurassic, with some evidence of even earlier existence in the Permian. Fossil Hexanchid teeth have been found dating back as early as the Late Jurassic, and Triassic sharks appear very similar to modern Hexanchids. However, while the Chlamydoselachidae (frilled sharks) look ancient, they arose in the Late Cretaceous with most other modern shark families.

Propaganda under the cut:

The Sharpnose Sevengill Shark (Heptranchias perlo) and the Broadnose Sevengill Shark (Notorynchus cepedianus) are the only species of sharks to have seven gill slits.

Some Bluntnose Sixgill Sharks (Hexanchus griseus) recieved a unique spotlight when they began repeatedly bumping into the submarine of the Blue Planet II film crew, thinking the crew was after their whale carcass.

The Broadnose Sevengill Shark (Notorynchus cepedianus) (image 1) is the only shark in this order known to pose any threat to humans, due to their habitat being in proximity to humans and propensity for retaliating when provoked. Human remains have been found in one specimen's stomach, though these were likely deceased, drowned individuals, as this species has a reputation for feeding on anything it can fit in its mouth. In 2020 a 13 year old girl was bitten while surfing at Oreti Beach in New Zealand. The girl continued to surf for an hour before realizing her leg was bleeding.

Unlike its relatives which will often scavenge carrion and feed on whale falls, the Atlantic Sixgill Shark (Hexanchus vitulus) is known to be much more picky. It will not feed on prey after it has been dead for 24 hours, instead ignoring older prey to move on to its next kill.

Nothing could really hurt you in the freediving sim “Endless Ocean” (in the first game anyway) but I still got really freaked out when I had to dive down in the trenches. So whenever I had to do some deep-deep-diving, I would immediately go and find a frilled shark to befriend, because if you fed them enough they would follow you around. Having a smiley little buddy by my side always made me feel much calmer in that area, so frilled sharks still give me that little boost of seratonin just by association. They were there for me even when my stupid Risso’s Dolphin was effin off to go harass a squid or whatever.

While the two species of frilled shark that are alive today are relatively small, the larger of the two being the 2.0 m (6.6 ft) long Frilled Shark (Chlamydoselachus anguineus), some extinct species could get to be very large. The Late Cretaceous Rolfodon goliath was likely the largest, reaching an estimated 5-6 meters (19 ft 8in) long.

Meanwhile, the Southern African Frilled Shark (Chlamydoselachus africana) is much smaller, with the largest known female being the immature 117 cm (3.8 ft) long holotype, and the largest known male measuring 99 cm (3.2 ft) long.

They go like :o

Some Hexanchiform eyes fluoresce green (when the shark is alive)

(source)

[wanderingwolfwitcher]

"Don't need to read minds to know a lie when I hear one. Especially one from you. Used to be better at it... getting soft in your old age, red. Suit yourself. True enough, let's get on with it. Cult won't kill itself... besides a probable mass blood sacrificial ritual to wake their titanic mind breaking octopus-dragon-man looking 'Great Old One', of course. Let's get there before they do, not let them rob us of the fun."

Eskel's low, grimly amused voice returned to the crimson haired Sorceress, viper eyes still studying her closely, but not pressing her on the matter, helping lead her through the streets and on down the docks, as well as guiding Scorpion by the reins. The rain picked up around them as they spotted and reached the sizable ship, the Scylla appearing quite grim and foreboding yet befitting of the turn in the weather... the dark business that had brought them here. Crossing the creaking gangplank, getting aboard as the working sailors watched them all the while, they took the time to put Scorpion in the stables on the bottom of the ship before returning topside. As soon as they did, Sabrina drew him along and went at once for the Captain's cabin, predictably taking it over for herself, paying the less than enthused man and shutting herself away inside, locking the door, and leaving the Witcher to contend with the not exactly happy looking Skelligan whalers... looking of half a mind to try making him walk the plank. Regardless of the amount of coins she had handed over. A decades old tale, having to clean up the messes she left behind for the rest of the world. Thinking fast, he decided to distract and defuse their evident misgivings and likely reconsideration of the arrangement the best way possible... with some humor, charisma and repurposed truth. Shrugging his silver spike covered shoulders and addressing them all with a grimace.

"Don't look at me, gentlemen. She's always been like that. I know women are considered bad luck on a ship, but you only have to put up with her for the length of a boat ride. Consider yourselves lucky... destiny has had me dealing with that on and off since 1232. You older married men know what I'm talking about. Least you're getting paid for it. Maybe we'll be lucky and she'll sleep for most of the voyage. Or she'll drop the magically enhanced appearance and makeup and scare off any attacking Harpies and Sirens, free of charge. Her hair used to be black you know... even had the pointy witch's nose and everything."

The Witcher's marred visage smirked at the sudden, riotous laughter it managed to draw from the Captain and crew... men to the core, who had put up with their fair of ornery island women. On that note, the matter defused, they continued to set off about their tasks around the ship, preparing it for departure. He went down to the hold to check on Scorpion in his stall, patting the horse of destiny, feeding him some oats, then heading back topside in time to watch the ship casting off from Kaer Trolde Harbor. He found a good spot overlooking most of the rain soaked ship, watching them raise the anchors and head out to sea, but mostly kept his heightened senses focused on the crew, for any signs of cult behavior or treachery. He had little doubt she could handle herself if any tried to attack her in the cabin... but even so, he kept an eye out. Would visit her later, or she could join him up on deck. Even if they were cultists, it was likely they would want to deliver them to Darkwater Island, thinking they could use them as sacrifices. They would be in for a hell of a surprise if the attempt was made on a Witcher and Sorceress. He took out his bottle of Mahakaman Spirit and White Gull, taking a swig of it... not the only one aboard the ship already drinking as they headed out into the ocean, the Skellige Islands gradually growing more distant. He kept his eyes pealed, not just on the crew, but any sign of sea monsters... it had been awhile since he fought any, but his memories returned of other boat trips during his time at Skellige over the years.

@fallesto

Sabrina took a moment to compose herself, willing the pain to recede. She took a deep, calming breath, feeling the coolness of the night air fill her lungs. She knew she couldn't hide her distress from Eskel forever, but for now, she had to push through it. "Just a... headache." She lied, her voice wavering slightly.

"We need to move quickly, though. The cult isn't going to wait for us to make our move." She would lean into him for the moment. As she held onto his arm to steady herself as she walked. They moved through the damp streets, the rain picking up and plastering their clothes to their skin. The scent of salt and fish grew stronger as they approached the docks. The ships creaked and groaned with the tide, and the distant calls of sailors could be heard above the steady patter of raindrops. It was a familiar symphony to Eskel, one that had lulled him to sleep many times, but tonight it sounded ominous, almost foreboding.

Sabrina took deep breaths, trying to ignore the throbbing in her skull. She focused on her mind to ease the numbing pain that was there. She had to keep going, for the fate of the world rested on her shoulders. The book was a burden she had never wanted, but it was one she had accepted, and now she had to see it through to the end. She knew Eskel was right, would she admit it, never. But she would need to destroy it, there are many awful things she has done, but she never wished to unleash mass chaos into the land.

Finally, they reached the docks and spotted the Scylla, its wooden frame looming large against the backdrop of the night. The rain had picked up into a steady downpour, making the planks slick beneath their boots. They approached the gangplank, as she looked at the ship, this is what was meant to get them there, so be it, it would have to do, as she took note of Eskel concerns for the crew, but they would be paid and if they tried anything, she would kill them before they even had the chance to do anything to them.

Without hesitation, Sabrina stepped onto the swaying plank and made her way onto the ship, pulling Eskel behind her. She marched straight to the cabin door and pushed it open, not bothering to wait for an invitation as she left Eskel outside to deal with them all. The captain stared at her, surprise flitting across his weathered face before quickly being replaced by annoyance. "What do you think you're doing lass?" He demanded, wiping rain from his eyes.

"I'm taking your cabin." Sabrina said firmly, her voice steady despite the pain. She held up the coin pouch. "We're paying well for the passage, and I need somewhere private to work." The captain's gaze dropped to the pouch, and his scowl softened slightly. As she dropped the coin pouch onto the floor with a thud, taking the captains cabin for herself as she closed the door, locked it and quickly went to the bed to lay down.

[namgyu-nurture]

request!!!

ok so i get if your not comfortable with writing about this but can you write a fic about where the female reader is at a bridge ready to fall and somebody sees and calls the police and jun ho is the officer to respond, that’s all i really thought of but you got to off make them fall in love because the reader is stunning 🤩

Last minute love - Hwang Jun-ho x fem!reader

Warnings: a lot of suicidal thoughts!! Self harm, depression, mentions of bullying, fluff

A/N: im sorry if this is short or didnt get the exact thing you were looking for, but I was really happy to get a junho request actually hes so fine I love that guy 💪💪 tysm for this this was so fun to write

Life was hard. You were always bullied in school. Teased, harassed, humiliated, kids thought it was funny to make you cry. You were nothing but nice. Eating lunch alone in the school bathrooms, standing alone at break. You were pushed, shoved, kicked when going anywhere, you had tried to consult a councillor but they seemed to like your bullies more, ignoring your claims since you didn’t have proof.

You never understood why kids hated you so much. You weren’t exactly ugly, you had a glimmer of self confidence, looks wise at least. Maybe the way you acted? But you barely spoke. This is what riled you up. People despised you.. and for what reason?

Even as an adult, you were unlucky. No man ever looked your way, you always seemed to come second in hiring. Being broke and lonely you hated life, you always tried in school but your grades weren’t enough, you were a failure.

So here you are. Sat on the edge of the bridge, the busy highway flooded with cars moving by, the motion was a blur. You sat contemplating. ‘I should just jump. Get it over with’ you thought to yourself. You were so drained, afraid of dying but life wasn’t much better than dying anyway.

You sat for a while, just dangling your legs, hyping yourself up enough to jump. ‘Fucking wimp.’ You thought, looking at your hands that were cowering at the thought of jumping, your heart was pounding.

Unbeknownst to you, a man who had driven by noticed this situation, not fully sure if it was going to escalate but to be safe he rang the police. Alerting them.

You sat looking down. ‘Would the fall even kill you?’ You thought. It looked like it would, but the thought of it not killing you on impact made you hesitate, what if you didn’t die, but survived, the pain from the impact making your stomach churn.

Through the midsts of white/yellowy lights from headlights on the bridge and the musky orange light from the lampposts, you saw a flicker of red and blue lights approaching.

Panicking, when the car pulled over and a police officer came out, you gained composure and stood up. Shaking slightly as the heights of the situation increased.

“Excuse me miss.” A calm voice rang out, over the noise of the passing by cars. You turned to look at him, still stood on the edge of the bridge.

He was youngish, maybe in his 30s realistically but he looked younger. He was handsome, his dark hair parted neatly, his uniform was tidy and his eyes looked into yours from the distance he was stood.

“Can you step down from there?” He called out again, his tone was calm, well spoken and polite.

“..no.” You replied quietly. “No, I won’t.. leave..go away” your voice spiking in panic.

“Miss, please step down, you’re not in trouble. I just want to have a word with you.” He said kindly. Stepping forward and offering you a hand to step down.

He felt a twinge of anger that someone like you would be here, on the edge of the bridge, an urge of protection for you, he wasn’t sure why, he thought you were gorgeous. He didn’t know you, but he’d hate to see you go.

“W-why should I? Huh?” You responded angrily, “s’ not like life’s gonna be worth living anytime soon. I should just get it over with right? No one likes me anyway. I don’t know what the fuck I did but they all hate me.” Your voice cracked in upset as you ranted. You had a smile, a clearly forced one, as if amused by what you must’ve done to be here now.

Your eyes told a different story, the man noticed the hurt, the held back anguish. “You should step down because nothings going to resolve your problems if you die. Your mother would be heartbroken. If you want things to get better you need to resolve them.. be strong. Come on.” He spoke clearly, with a soft tone, he insisted his hand. And she looked at him. “Please.” He insisted once again.

She thought about his words and hesitantly took his hand. She stepped down, her sleeve riding up when she held his hand. Years of scars and burns littered her wrist, it shattered his heart to look at. Someone so beautiful being so.. hurt.

She noticed him looking and yanked her hand away, pulling her sleeve down. “Got a good look yeah?” She said spitefully.

“Im sorry.” He spoke, aware he was wrong for looking so long. “Would you like to talk? speak about whats on your mind?” He offered to which she shook her head.

A moment of silence passed.

“Could.. could I have a hug..?” She asked quietly, and he opened his arms. She wrapped her arms loosely around his midsection. One of his hands rested on her head, the other on her back.

“It’s going to be okay.” He said soothingly.

“Will it?” Your voice broke softly as you looked up at him.

“I’ll make sure of it.” He said softly to her making eye contact

“Promise?” She asked quietly.

“I promise.” He responded promisingly.

[canisbrutus]

PLEAAAAASEEEE DUMP ABOUT OLSENWIIIICCKKKKK🥹🥹🥹🥹🥹🥹🥹🥹🥹

your wish is my command i adore these stupid faggots

Kirby & Trent 🍰🎬

inhalesssssss

these two are incredibly bonded despite everything.

but they damn sure didnt get off on a good start.

following my personal timeline trent had just broken things off with cornelius. and neither of them were particularly closeted or reserved about their faggotry.

so for a good minute kirby didnt even want to be seen talking to his gay ass at all in case it gave him a Reputation.

by some miracle they started talking, or rather, hurling insults at eachother thanks to trent spilling punch on kirby at the jock's halloween party.

the jocks love hosting shitass parties for a number of stupid reasons, you see. and trent likes getting wasted.

after a rough encounter at the punch bowl the two continued taunting eachother every time they made eye contact.

for entirety of one whole week, at least. then trent decided 'hey he's kinda cute when he's angry'

and so began the incredibly arduous task of: flirting with kirby until he stops yelling slurs (and throwing hands).

thankfully this Also took about a week and they moved onto just mumbling slurs inbetween smooches because of how insanely, well, sexually frustrated they were.

these teens are fucking insane but thats just how bullworth is.

trent then worked up the nerve to ask him on an actual date, kirby begrudgingly agreed, jimmy busted them while getting on pinky's good side, aaand trent got his ear chewed off for it.

they fought about kirby's whole internalized homophobia at this time cause he damn sure wasnt the only faggot in school.

(and it was really getting under trent's skin because he was practically hatecrimed out of his last relationship)

they weren't technically boyfriends at that point due to kirby's insistence. but it felt like a breakup all the same.

they got back together at the jock's christmas party though. something something 7 minutes in heaven i dont know and i dont want to particularly put much thought into that.

point being shit was messy for a hot minute but trent showed kirby things about himself he could Not ignore.

so he wanted to try again with him. and this time he chilled out on practically Hating the guy he was macking on.

trent also cooled it with how, well, Bold he could be. actually made an effort to not embarrass kirby in public and whatnot.

things had to be lowkey in order to not be harassed of course.

but trent's mere presence was enough to turn kirby's ears pink sometimes.

in the bleachers, across the cafeteria, walking down the street, etc.

and god help him when they're paired up in class.

kirby loved the rush all the same though. and trent just found him fuckin incredible if i'm frank.

trent spoke highly of him to his friends, and sometimes just outright dragged them to see kirby on the field or in the arcade absolutely killing it on DDR.

they were much more forward in private of course, even if kirby was incredibly slow to open up about most of his interests and genuine self.

trent helped with that from the start; showing him how to be authentic and happy with himself.

same as all actors allow others to Reflect on their performances.

and over time kirby started to see through trent's own act.

grounded him, tried keeping him sober, etc.

if he had to keep it real and face his own reality, well, so did trent.

and honestly kirby wasnt a fan of the concept of getting shitfaced in general. didnt smoke, seldom drank, didnt huff anything.

that being said trent and him Did bake some edibles once or twice.

split one, went to the movies again, trent got shushed by old people several times because he wouldnt stop rambling.

now That was a fun time.

experimenting with formatting, hope this isnt Awful to read thru lol. also fun fact i hate spotify but i hate youtube links more.

[hc masterpost]

[felixcloud6288]

Dungeon Meshi Chapter 75

First time Marcille saw the Touden's place, she went "Damn, bitch. You live like this?"

Also, this is the first time as far as I can recall where Marcille used her ribbons to tie the end of her braids.

Otta, Fleki, and Pattadol have never seen a demon it seems.

Mithrun's eye changed color briefly but went back to black when he started attacking.

What rules?

Is Mithrun going to get court-martialed if he kills an adventurer who is not a dungeon lord?

Love seeing Mithrun fight. Love seeing his unconventional use of teleportation magic.

Mithrun's Tall-man form was very muscular, and this fight shows how strong he actually is. Each time he pulls that cape out of the lion, he has to be able to pull whatever part of the lion is also weighing the cape down.

Oh. So Kabru wasn't able to talk last chapter. And y'know what, I can tell exactly what happened. In chapter 73, Cithis said "Silence" to him right before she hypnotized Laios and the others. She wasn't telling Kabru to back down, she was giving him a command he had to follow. Cithis may also have been responsible for Kabru's cuffs as well.

What do they expect him to do? He's handcuffed and doesn't have a weapon.

So much of this could have been avoided if the elves weren't such stuck-up supremacists. And I'm not just talking about how the Canaries immediately escalated to trying to murder Marcille.

They were hostile to the Touden party from the start and only became polite when Pattadol thought she was talking to a full-elf. The moment one of them brought up Marcille's half-elf heritage, they all started talking down at her as well.

One thing I'll point out as a token defense for the Canaries is they only became physically aggressive with Marcille when she tried to flee. And after putting up with them, Marcille may have decided she might as well become the dungeon lord since her wish would knock them down a peg.

But still, the Canaries treat everyone as ignorant children who should do as they say because they said so and don't think they should have to give a reason for why others should listen to them.

Now onto the other part about how their supremacist attitude got in the way. Recall that Kabru wanted to be a Canary but couldn't join because he's not an elf. That brief moment where he was able to give orders to the others shows he's able to keep a cool head in a dangerous situation; he'd be a competent leader. But also, he would not have let the situation ever escalate to the point that it got to.

Kui redrew several images from earlier chapters during Marcille's flashback montage. It really shows how well her artstyle had improved over the series.

Marcille's takeaway from reflecting on their journey is that this entire adventure has sucked, it's been a miserable and painful experience, and she'd be better off if she'd given up on any number of occasions.

And it was all worthwhile. What's a little more pain and suffering if it means she'll be able to spend as much time as possible with the people she loves.

She's going to live 1,000 years? Oh that makes everything even worse.

Looks like the lion is restoring everything about the dungeon as if it were new. At the very least, all the mirrors are repaired.

I think the sequence of events was Marcille was thinking she wants to restrain the Canaries and the lion basically went "I know how to do that!" and he summoned giant spiders to restrain them.

And once Marcille saw the lion's approach, it began to adjust its methods to better suit Marcille's desire even if Marcille's approach is even more terrifying than how it was going to do things.

And one of the first things the lion did after becoming Marcille's servant is act against her wishes behind her back. Marcille said she didn't want to kill anyone, but the lion's methods definitely did something to Fleki and one spider was about to kill Otta as well.

And then the lion literally covered Marcille's eyes so she wouldn't see it kill Mithrun.

The lion is not a genie forced to grant peoples' wishes. It grants wishes to feed off desires and it will defy its master's wishes if it feels like doing so.

This would probably drive anyone insane.

Of note, Thistle set up a post to spy on Senshi's encampment, but he doesn't appear to have anything spying on the orcs.

The walking mushrooms have little hearts on them.

Oh look. Mithrun's alive.

back

[sigmasoyboy]

Hellooo,

Can we have more infos about that "incel" couple please? 🙂‍↕️

The one where you just posted a picture on instagram for smutember ✨️

Thanks a lot 🤝

I've been thinking about these two a bit lately so you can have some of my crazy disjointed thoughts and ideas I might or might not put on paper one day… As always with them [cw: kidnapping, torture, mention of SA, self-harm and suicide, forcefemme, incel shit etc…]:

Sydney only giving Shiloh milk to drink because surely he would believe the common myth that it increases oestrogen AND the superstition/meme you see in manga that it will make your boobs bigger because of course he would… If he's dumb enough he might alternate between cow's milk and soy milk for variety. Shiloh hates it but it actually turns out to be kind of a godsend when Sydney withdraws food as a punishment; that's a lot of yummy nutrients he still gets to have.

Maybe surprisingly, but Sydney really insisting on not having sex (read: penetrative sex) with Shiloh because he wants it to be mutual and special and romantic so so bad, holding hands kissing missionary style. Also him often bringing up how ungrateful Shiloh is because at least he's not raping him (the bar is in fucking hell).

Rewarding Shiloh when he plays his girlfriend role well with comforting junk food, getting that high sugar high salt high fat shit for extra positive association. It feels nice to hug, kiss, cuddle and say corny stupid shit when it's followed by delicious greasy pizza with all the toppings you want or the comforting bite of that bacon cheeseburger with jalapeños and extra burger sauce when you were fed only rice crackers and milk for a while. Even just a fucking pop tart, a handful of cheezies or a funsize chocolate bar for smaller things hitting like a truck.

Shiloh sleeping in a dog crate Syndey got off of craigslist… It being not big enough to stretch his legs or sit up comfortably because it had to fit under Sydney's bed, which he managed because he had a crawlspace under it (a bit like those bookshelf beds I've seen floating around that look like, super hazardous) his uncle built him when he was a preteen, with a little curtain in front of it for ✨extra privacy✨. From cry corner to escape the world to girlfriend bedroom… Even if it's not like sleeping together, Sydney finding great comfort in sleeping above him (Shiloh not so much).

Sydney's attendance at college starting to suffer after he abducts Shiloh because he would rather spend time with him but still having to go avoid too much suspicion so he gags and lock Shiloh into the crate for the whole day. This leading to Shiloh starting to beg Sydney more and more not to go to college because he starts dreading being locked into that small dark space all day, maybe even developing full on claustrophobia after a few months of this shit. Naturally Sydney would delude himself (helped by Shiloh agreeing to anything not to get the crate) into believing it's heartwarming that his girlfriend wants them to spend more time together ♡ why not stay home one more day to play video games and watch anime while cuddling with his girlfriend, yay ♡

Shiloh trying to create an opportunity to escape by asking Sydney to let him sleep in his bed without restraints or the chain and getting false hopes when he agrees only to drug him with so much sleeping meds he's functionally unable to stand up even if he tried…

Sydney spending his big boy allowance to buy cute outfits for Shiloh, shoplifting at hot topic when his uncle starts asking why he needs money for clothes so soon already because women's clothes is surprisingly expensive. Using his own black eyeliner to doll him up and buying cheap flavored sticky gloss at Claire's to cover his chapped lips, all while he has gone unwashed for weeks to keep him grateful when he does allow him to shower, happily scrubbing him of all the grime.

Shiloh managing to choke Sydney and really, really trying to kill him but ultimately failing because he has lost so much muscle mass and strength from lack of exercise and shitty nutrition. Sydney getting out of his reach and instead of getting angry crying his eyes out, nearly more hysteric than Shiloh because he's tried so hard to get him to like him and yet he tried killing him again. Him leaving the basement for what feels like hours only to return with a knife and fresh scars blabbering about how maybe there is no hope and how he's going to kill both of them and Shiloh scrambling to change his mind and try to convince him not to kill him by telling him he does love him and he didn't know what went over him and begging to give them another chance, even resorting to trying to soothe him through sexual attention. Who knows how it does end up for them there, we'll see when I make up my mind（◕ω◕）

[shannonsketches]

[liquidstar]

sleepovers save money on hotel rooms while on missions 👍

[heytheredeann]

“Yes, there is a place where someone loves you both before and after they learn what you are.” ― Neil Hilborn

[puppppppppy]

Atla live action 😐