#ear infection status

[symbiotic-demon]

thats pure fucking nothing right there mate pure void right there ehehe thats got damn right mate absolute lack of any possible substance or description for it other than a total abscence of any known concepts

[jazjelspen]

my angel baby (part 6)

alastor w/ angel daughter reader

(notes: alastor's adoptive daughter is in hell, let's hope she doesn't get eaten alive!)

(the singing lines you'll encounter were meant to not be in order.. you'll understand once you read it hehe >:) )

(caution: alastor being lowkey a bit manipulative? not too terrible but just word of caution.)

(tags: @maksdust @willowwillflower @sunshinesetsstuff @0willowwisp0 @projectdreamwalker @1potato2rulethemall @just-here-reading @avitute @pooplyface1423 @insomniacfigure @mo-0-o @thekanrojimitsuri2 @nevermorekisses @wildfire153 )

my editor <3: @kruncher

Rosie finished her sentence by patting your shoulder gently before her hands finally rested on the handle of her umbrella once more.

You fiddled with your hands as you shined an awkward smile.. you looked like a child about to give a powerpoint presentation to a class.

You then chose to immediately face the Princess once again, eyes on her entirely "but.. um.. Yes!.. Princess Charlie, I saw you at the courtroom presenting your case and I just have to say I'm very inspired!... and I would like to contribute to your cause somehow!.." you paused yourself from speaking too much into it.. wanting to save certain parts for only her ears to hear.

"I also would need to get back home.. and I know you have that sort of influence in Hell to get me a way in Heaven again!-- o...oh..-"

You felt your skin crawl as you barely acknowledged a suddenly teleported Alastor to your side, his staff holding up your injured wing gently to get a good look at the bandaged injury.. his eyes narrowing and a 'hmm' softly escaping his throat. 

A threatening spark in his eye flashed which resulted in your injured wing suddenly moving away from him, despite that flash not being for you specifically. 

In his usual Alastor fashion he seemed very collected, but it was a bit obvious he was much intrigued at your presence and your bandage.

Charlie seemed to finally catch her bearings, moving a few frazzled strands of hair away from her face. "Well.. Welcome either way! We can definitely do that! I will admit I only managed to get through to heaven thanks to my dad but I'm sure he can come up with some sort of way to get you back home!" she seemed to look at your halo and wings, your status as an angel very well seen and she was honestly a bit frazzled by a 'winner' falling down in here all of a sudden.

Rosie gently laid her hand on Alastor's shoulder "Poor little thing ain't she? Susan got her wing real good but I fixed her up right in the nick of time! no infection will harm her further."

Alastor's radio shriek happened again but in a much softer pitch "Susan did this?" There was a quick pause before Alastor spoke up again, "Oh I'll have to talk with Susan soon! How impolite could that old woman be! The senior citizens these days.." he rolled his eyes in a playful manner before Charlie spoke up again.

"Well!-- _____ was it? Let me see if I can get Vaggie to sho--"

"Nonsense!" Interrupted Alastor, almost practically jumping in between Charlie and yourself with a very odd excitement. "Why, I'll help of course! It is quite simple just taking a new guest to their new room!"

Charlie smiled half heartedly "Alastor that's so helpful of you! Just.. don't scare our guest please. I know how interesting you can.. get." the end of her sentence dragged on, as if dreading what he's capable of doing. "Oh and no deals! This is a freedom-oriented place! We don't want any souls to be collected here please.." she then just gave you two a thumbs up, a bit exhausted but still uplifting.

"Meanwhile I'll talk to Rosie here about her cannibals and how we intend to also keep them safe! While they also get their-- fill!.."

Alastor seemed to slither his arm around yours, elbows interlocking. "How exciting! There's so much to show you around here in the Hazbin Hotel! Gosh it'll make you wish to stay down here forever!" A loud cackle could be heard from him that eventually morphed into a bunch of static-covered laugher.

Your body froze as you were dragged away by Alastor up the velvet red steps, not even getting a chance to properly thank Rosie and Charlie.

You're stuck with him now.

Lucky you.

Getting dragged by Alastor was as if a swarm of wasps was lingering on your arm; absolutely nerve-wrecking. 

You stayed quiet as he continued to ramble, talking nonsense about hell, the hotel, how he thought of the name and the design.. basically bragging. It all went in one ear and out the other.

"--isn't that right darling?"

huh?

Your senses came back to you and your eyes flickered up to him once before looking down. "Oh.. my bad I didn't catch that.."

Alastor stopped in his tracks which immediately caused you to stop in yours. There was a pause..

"Why, my dear, since when have I ever had to repeat anything to you? You hardly ever daydreamed like this before!"

You let out a shaky exhale through your nose, "Yea.. sorry." you spoke in a subtle sarcastic way.

He shook his head, his tongue clicking into minor sounds of 'tsk tsk.' "Oh _____ darling there's no need to be so formal! I'm your father! Not a stranger."

You scoffed, "You seem to enjoy treating me like one."

His eyes narrowed down at you; you wanted to burst into a cold sweat just like that. 

"It's better that way, you have absolutely no clue about how animalistic these sinners can be!"

He let his arm uncurl around yours to stand in front of a hotel room door with one of the miscellaneous hotel numbers at the top, his hand covering over the door knob as a green glowing hue forced it to open with a single 'click', a key suddenly spawning and dropping right into the palm of his clawed hand.

Your nose scrunched up in slight disgust "Oh I, in fact, do have a clear idea.. "

Alastor didn't respond to your comment but simply took your hand and had your palm face upward, dropping the cold obsidian key on your skin.

"Your key to your new quarters! If there's any issues with it, do let us know how we can fix it for you."

Your fingers closed your hand around the item and held it tightly against your chest in a defensive stance.

"Uh huh.." you then skimmed past him to walk through the door, your free hand clenching onto the handle of your travel bag in stress.

"Although, I'm simply dying to know--" Alastor's haunting voice caused you to freeze, your head slowly tilted to look behind you with a chill down your spine. Alastor's eyes radiated red, red as sin. 

"Why exactly did you think it was a swell idea to drop aaaall the way down here?" His arm holding up his came pointing up and slowly down as he stretched out the word 'all', insinuating falling down from heaven.

"And somehow doing that while still staying pure as snow? Oh darling, I just must know!"

You huffed a sigh out your nose and rolled your eyes,

"You know, I really admire how hard you try to ask questions when you know I'm not gonna tell you anything."

"_______, even a blind and deaf man would know that voluntarily going down here is practically a suicide! And I know you, you must've thought of this real well hmm? Risking getting gutted like a fish?"

"What would you like to know.." you mumbled as you then proceeded to close the door on him, your back slowly turning towards him.

Until the door was harshly tugged back to stay open, looking over to see Alastor gripping the other end of the door knob.

He laughed, it intimidated and irritated you "My darling you seem to forget who I am. I'm no stranger, I didn't spend the entirety of my glory 20s and 30s to raise you alone just for you to attempt to disown me. Besides.. you still need me my dear. 

After all.. I was the one that held you when the thunder refused to subside, I built you a home.. a wonderful home that others would live in with pride!"

He grabbed your hand yet again to pull you out once more, twirled you suddenly and pointed at your current outfit, a bit dirty with faint spots of dirt on certain spots from first hitting that dumpster when you first got here. 

"Don't even have to mention the elephant in the room.. just simply look at you! Fragile as a flower, still a little sampling.. just a sprout." He next pointed at your wings, ears, and halo during the duration of his phrase. His tone slowly morphing into a familiar sing-song voice and melody you could have sworn was something from your childhood.

You scoffed "Okay that's nice and all but can I just g--"

"Father knows best! listen to your father, It's a scary world out there, " He teleported behind you in the opposite direction of where you were facing you, a hand on your shoulder as his shadow morphed into a more terrifying form for you to gasp and shriek at. 

"Father knows best, one way or another something will go wrong-- I swear!" You couldn't help but stumble a few steps back in shock and fear from seeing that shadow again, causing you to trip over your feet and end up getting thrown by gravity down to the floor in a sit-up position.

"Oh look! Sloppy, underdressed, immature, clumsy, please--" he walked up to you, bending down to grab your hand once more to pull you up harshly. His eyes glowing while closely meeting yours as his shadow laughed in the background menacingly "They'll eat you up alive!"

As he playfully shouted his words in that familiar sing-song melody that you couldn't exactly tap into at this moment, he yet continued to hold up your right hand up in the air and the other proceeded to hold your left.. he was now twirling you around across the hall diverting slightly far from your open hotel room as if you were both dancing in a mix of 30s and classic ballroom dancing. You tried to push him away but his grip was fierce and the sudden dancing confused you, making you unable to properly think about your next move.

"Father's right here, father will protect you, darling here's what I suggest!" He then finally stopped at the foot of your door, your vision getting a bit woozy from the intense spinning Alastor put you through. "Skip the drama, stay with papa--"

"Alastor for fucks sake!-" you finally exclaimed, rubbing your eyes and taking a moment to relax your eyes to recover from your previous state.

"I can handle myself! I know ways to protect my own skin and none of them involve you!" You panted as you stomped your way back in your given room, this time gripping the door handle with a grip you've never had before. 

"Now go do whatever it is you do, and leave me alone!" you slammed the door in his face and locked it as quickly as you could, eventually throwing your bag on your new and neat bed with a huff. 

You've never felt so much anger before since you were living and breathing-- these complicated emotions rising in you like a volcano that sat dormant for centuries until finally erupting and exploding fire and skin-melting magna. This all came out with you lashing out and now even wanting to tear up a bit since you always hated fighting-- with him, with anyone. It hurt. More than it should have. 

You simply crawled on your bed and held yourself, knees up to your chest and arms around your knees. Comforting yourself in the only way you knew how.

God, you hoped this trip in the end turned out to be worth it.

Alastor on the other hand simply smirked, your stubbornness will be no match to his own and he will be sure of that.

"Goodness. Even after all these years, the temper tantrums will never cease." He let out a small pitched 'hm' as he turned on his heel to head back to the Princess of Hell and help her with her next few plans with the battle against the exorcists. 

Unbeknownst to them, a pair of eyes noticed and witnessed the father and daughter's interaction in the hall.

Back to you,

Curled up in your hotel room you then decided to crawl over to your traveling bag, scrambling over to open it and hastily take out a few things like a smaller bag full of toiletries, clothes, and even your personal first aid box for emergencies. 

All would be put aside only for your hand to be looking for one thing in particular, hidden under all your neatly packed items was a journal you brought from back up in heaven to document events to keep your thoughts in place, help you cope with changes, and just as a way to express your emotions in a healthy way and you knew you would need these more during these next few weeks. 

Opening the hard cover your eyes were met with a small paper pocket that you taped up in order to save photographs and small thin memory trinkets. 

You smiled softly, your other hand then went to look at the side of your bag to take yet another photograph, it was the one you put in right before leaving your home to get to hell. 

Placing that photo on the cover of your bed, then taking out your photos that were inside that small pocket of your book you then spread them out all beside each other on your bed.

Six exact photos you had, each correlating to a specific memory you adored dearly.

First five photos were favorite memories of yours, some were of when you were hanging out with Sera, St. Peter, and other court member friends of yours. Either at picnics, libraries, shops, restaurants, etc. 

The last two were more than important to you though, they were two portrait pictures of her and you.

She was a much older woman, she died around the time you were born but never have you felt like someone was more like family in heaven than she did. Unfortunately you never had the chance to meet her until you were in heaven but at the same time after making an intense realization when getting to know her better it's as if you knew her your entire life. 

She was one of your favorite people, but one of your most painful reminders.

Your hand grazed over those two photos, your hand trying so hard not to clench them due to how many fucking things are setting in place, connecting to each other.

"I'll be back, I promise." you spoke to the images of her sitting beside her with her kind smile, you could see him through her smile as well "I'm sorry I never got to tell you what he did, who he really is.. you don't deserve the pain that comes with it if I did.."

You teared up, decades of guilt overwhelming you in this single moment. "I'm sorry grandmother, that he turned out this way.. that he did this to me."

You had no reason to apologize, no reason at all.

But she was so good to you, she recognized your last name but you couldn’t bear to ever tell her the truth and that guilt haunted you yet you reassured yourself it’s better to keep her from knowing who he really is with how highly she speaks of him. 

She treated you as if you were her own flesh and blood. She gave you a home as well up in heaven, took care of you.. guess the apple doesn't fall far from the tree in that aspect.

How can someone like him, with a mother like her, turn out the way he did.

How.. sad, that truly is.

—---------------------------------------

You were sixteen years of age when this specific event occurred.

You have always been a good kid, always done as you've been told such as '____ dear don't forget to wash your dishes today', '_____ don't forget about your school work.', 'get in bed now young lady, you still have a bedtime you know', and '______ dear you're a bit too young to read the news don't you think? read this instead, more appropriate for young girls your age!'

You have always done what your father told you, followed every rule he sets, avoided every thing he didn't want you to do. 

Although.. whenever you did something you weren't supposed to was where you slightly feared him. He never yelled, never was one to do so. He was always a gentleman and as kind as he could be, although most of it for show. 

One thing he always was, is being passive aggressive. 

Passive aggressiveness was one of his many strong suits, and using words to get you to fear and to avoid doing what you were not meant to do was his specialty. You always wanted to please your father, for you knew that your entire life was the way it was because he chose to be responsible for you. This didn't happen much though because you just always followed what he ordered.

But sometimes being too obedient can be tiring and you were starting to get a little brave recently.

You see, your father has never allowed you in his home office for as long as you could remember, for all you knew he only took you inside when you were a baby with no total awareness. 

Why were you never allowed in his study?

You were.. actually never sure yourself, at least not until the days leading up to your death.

You were always told it was because it was his private space where he wants to keep everything neat and tidy, and that he wants his work space where he saves and writes anything for his radio show in there and that anyone on the outside would simply ruin the ambiance inside that helps him work.. or whatever.

Although, the older you got and the more conscious you gained you eventually thought that this rule is kind of.. stupid? It's just a study but.. you just guessed that whatever your father said was true.

On this particular day though, you wanted to give him a surprise! Only issue was that it included the study..

It was the day before Alastor's birthday, and you just wanted to check his schedule without being too obvious at all to make sure you had time to slip his gift either in his bedroom or sent to his radio studio.. so you decided to quickly slip into his study and check it really fast and leave!..

You spent the entire month before to find someone and commission for them to make a portrait painting with you, Alastor, and his mother in a single frame. Even giving photos of your father and your grandmother for them to reference, due to the lack of colors at the time with photographs it was more of a monochrome painting at best. This would be your birthday gift to him.

You waited for him to leave for work for his evening broadcast and you just came from school, pretending to be reading a book you were assigned to while laying on your bed and relaxing.

Alastor knocked at your door, letting out a quick 'come in!' In reply, he opened it for only his face to pop out of your door with his iconic smile.

"Hello darling! Just wanted to let you know I'll be off to do my next broadcast! Don't forget to tune in soon if you don't have any school work to do."

"Yes father, see you soon!"

"See you soon sweetheart! if I'm late for dinner there's always some leftovers."

He waved at you before closing your door and leaving a bit hastily despite being very early. You stayed as silent as possible till you heard his footsteps distancing away and finally.. that distant loud click of the front door.

You got moving, dropping the book on the bed without a care while scrambling up and opening the door to your room, your feet pitter pattering across the hall and down in front of the study, your hand reaching towards the doorknob in excitement. 

Until you stopped.

'What if he finds out? do you think he'll notice the slightest change at all?.. would he yell or get mad?.. ground me?.. he's never grounded me much but..' your hand inched closer to the knob, the moment your fingertips touched the wooden texture that's when you knew you weren't going to turn back.

'well.. it's a huge surprise for him.. it's just checking his work schedule without him knowing so he won't have a clue I have a surprise for him, it'll be easy!..' 

And finally your fingers wrapped around the doorknob and finally opened the entrance to the study with sudden anticipation while the creek coming from the door only caused goosebumps up your arms.

The room itself was dark and smelled of old wood from the floorboards and dusty papers, speaking of the floors they creeped like crazy with each hesitant step you took inside while your eyes scanned the entire foreign environment. 

Your eyes managed to make out in the middle of the room a large cushioned chair positioned in front of an even larger wooden desk that was wide enough as a school principal's desk would be. Approaching it you now got to see more clearer details like several papers and folders being sprawled around the space, two half empty cups of his usual coffee, pens in pen holders and laid with the papers,.

Your eyes looked up to see the wooden walls organized with draped over portraits of Alastor himself as a kid, others of paintings of his mother that you haven't seen besides the one in the living room and the photos he showed you, and.. one of you as a toddler.. your eyes couldn't help but linger at that particular portrait of you that you have never seen.

You looked down at the desk again to look for his work schedule since all you knew was that it was in some leather journal you saw him carry before.

But you were yet again met with a framed photo standing on his desk and it was one of you as a baby! You've seen baby photos of yourself but never one of where you literally were still sleeping in the crib.. you couldn't help but smile. 

But you went back to work, opening the squeaky drawers filled with hardcover books, folders with dates and names of several shows he's done before. 

Looking at one of the drawers nearest to the ground on the right hand side was where you found even more photos of you as a baby! And even others of himself growing up and some of his mother, your heart warmed at the thought of your father always keeping his family in mind. 

And how amazing was it that the leather journal you were looking for to finally show up! 

Taking it out with great anticipation you skimmed through the pages of his endless paragraphs and paragraphs of letters and numbers.. suddenly stopping at a particular page where there were.. stains.. they looked almost black in the dark but by squinting your eyes you can barely tell a dark hue of red.. you stood up to see if there was a small lamp on the desk that you missed but right as yo--

"What are you doing here."

Alastor's voice boomed across the room startling you to the point where the journal closed and almost jumped out of your arms as you gasped.

Your eyes darted at the door which didn't seem to hear the creek open the way it did when you came in, covered in darkness was Alastor of course.. his eyes and smile seemingly piercing through the darkness as his figure was illuminated from the light in the halls.

"Father!-- I.. I'm.. I just wanted to--" He interrupted you not by speaking, but by walking in and the creeks from the wooden floors seemed more threatening than when you first heard them. The closer he got the more your shoulders raised up.. "Look I'm sorry I just wanted to see your work schedule, that's all!.."

"Darling." god even the way he pulled on the chain attached to the lamp made it scary as well.. "You have never disobeyed me before, how can I work comfortably now?"

"I'm.. I'm sorry.." 

Alastor's aura seemed to at least lighten up with the lamp now.. god.

"Guess I always knew this day was coming.." he shook his head in disappointment, "knew that soon you'd want to leave the nest."

"But I--"

"Soon, but not yet. Trust me, pet."

"But father! I just wanted to look at your work schedule.."

"And you could've asked, not sneaked in like some thief.. I never raised you that way." Despite how the situation is though.. he had his eerie permanent smile on his face which only confused you more.

"You see my dear, by disobeying me even in the simplest of things only calls for danger. Unnecessary trouble to lure and latch onto you. Trouble in which even I won't protect you from."

Why was he talking like this?.. you were unsure.. but you knew that he was leading on to make some kind of point.. but in a sing-song type of approach. 

It wasn't uncommon for him to sing lessons to you at this age or whatever age you and him were, it's a common thing to you that his theatrics were an everyday thing.. it's how you learned how to sing yourself.

He continued, "Gullible, naive, positively grubby, ditzy, and a bit.. well.. hmm.. vague!"

You shook your head in confusion, him taking himself beside you to then shine you the most.. warming smile yet. The mixed signals were insane.

Seeing your confusion he only intensified it more "oh but darling I'm just saying cause' I love you, father understands, father's here to help you, all I have is one request!..” he spun around you as he ended up facing you and holding your hands in his, finally pulling you in a warm hug. oh wow.. he was never one to say ‘I love you’ much.. This total change was whiplash at its finest. 

You melted in the hug quite easily as you were always an affectionate child, plus you wanted to get rid of the guilt by just.. hoping he would forget what you tried to do. 

“_____?”

“Yes?..” 

The energy changed.

“Don’t ever come back into my study, again.”

“I..” you were speechless.. you were starting to question his authority slightly more than ever but.. “Yes father..”

“Oh I love you very much dear..”

You smiled slightly despite the stern scold he gave just now, but he was also never one to hug much so this made you feel nice.. 

“I love you more..” you could almost feel Alastor slowly grab onto the journal you were holding and tucked it in his coat which he usually wore out to work. 

“I love you most.” Backing away from the embrace with his hands on your shoulders he also gave you an uncharacteristically yet fatherly peck on your forehead and hairline which was only saved for when he’s tucking you in at night and he’s having a good day. 

Leaving behind a small ‘peck’ sound. It was almost kinda awkward the way he stood, it was as if he was trying to make it convincing with how fast it was too. 

“Don’t forget it!” He smiled at you brightly as he raised up a finger to only move it side to side.

“You’ll regret it.. Father! Knows best..” he gave you simply two pats on the head with his palm and his book in his jacket due to how swiftly he took it from your hands. 

Leading you out the door with a swift motion of him pulling you by your wrist and into the hall once more.. this time making a mental note as he closed the door behind him to get a proper lock for his study next time.

He then immediately started scrambling out the door, “Oh well look at the time! Almost late for work! I’ll see you in a while, my flower! Remember, I trust you! Don’t break it again! Would be a shame if that were your gift for my birthday!..” Cheerfully announcing across the house as he finally reached the door to pop out in the wide world again.

Why did he come back? You could only assume he forgot the journal you were holding before..

You sighed, biting the inside of your cheek with your eyes wanting to water. “I just wanted to give you your gift perfectly..”

Arms crossed, you went back into your room and sat at the foot of your bed. Somberly regretting your terrible decisions..

‘Can't believe you broke his trust like that!.. and a day before his birthday??.. you must be out of your mind _____.’ Eyebrows turn down with a sad little frown on your face.

‘Although..’ your thoughts led you to look out the doorway of your room and into the dark hall. 

‘Is there anything else he’s trying to hide?..’

(HEYYYY thank you for reading chapter 6!! This was a total blast to write ✨ had so much fun trying to add a bit more detail into Alastor since he is still a serial killer, and he does this all out of love but it can definitely come out more.. manipulative. Whether he does it on purpose or not kinda depends on how you want to see it but personally he does it on purpose because he knows it’ll keep his daughter at bay qwq -and yes! I used tangled songs because personally I felt like it really emulated this side of him so ya!! He loves her to death but isn’t afraid at all to pull strings.)

[hannahbarberra162]

Emperor's Prize (Alpha Shanks x Omega Reader) Part 2

18+ MDNI on Ao3

Seek medical attention for infected bite wounds.

The first chapter

Shanks POV

Hongo tilted his head to the side while contemplating your last statement. His mouth opened and closed before asking  “Captain, may I speak to you outside for a moment?” Shanks nodded, using his thumb to wipe away the tear tracking down the Omega’s face.

“Stay here, OK? I’ll be just outside the door,” Shanks said in your ear quietly, his stubble scraping against your cheek and earning him a shiver from you. Picking you off his lap with ease, Shanks set the Omega down on the unmade bed. You were still steadfastly looking down at your feet and avoiding eye contact with either Hongo or himself. Shanks stood up and followed the doctor, opening and shutting the cabin door gently behind him to avoid startling you. 

“Are you keeping her?” the doctor asked, letting out the breath he’d been holding.

Shanks hadn’t given it much thought in the short time he’d had the Omega on his ship. If Shanks was a better man, he could let her go back on suppressants while living in anonymity on a protected island. She’d made it years without being detected and likely could go back to doing the same. 

Or he could sell her and make a ton of Berri, maybe even equal to his bounty. This idea was dismissed as the thought of turning her over to someone who would traumatize her just as badly - or maybe worse - turned his stomach. Besides, the islands he protected were perfectly happy to supply him with whatever the crew needed. The Red Force was welcomed all over the Grand Line, Shanks had no need for more money.

“Yeah, I’m thinking about it,” Shanks said, rubbing his goatee. The idea to keep the Omega for himself had growing appeal. Your scent had started to perfume the cabin and it was taking everything in Shanks not to rub his nose on your scent glands. You had a subtle scent of lily of the valley and cedar that Shanks found incredibly appealing. With his status, power, and crew he could keep you safe from anyone else who would seek to have you. 

“Well, you’d better decide quickly. If you’re not keeping her, we need to get her off the ship immediately.”

“How much time do we have?” Shanks asked, peeking back in on your still form again. If he didn’t see you breathing and blinking, he would have thought you a statue.

“Only four to five days, and that’s if your presence around her doesn’t initiate her heat sooner which it likely will. If you’re not keeping her, we gotta put her in the infirmary, brig, or somewhere where your and Beckman’s scent is weak.” The mention of Beckman set Shanks on edge, surprising both himself and the doctor. He’d been friends with Beckman for over twenty years and this was the first time he’d ever felt anything so negative towards the man.

“How much do you know about Omegas?” 

Shanks hummed as he recalled that he had read a few books over the years, but hadn’t taken a particular interest in Omegas. He didn’t think he’d ever find one and he wouldn’t want to spend a single Berri on buying one through the slave trade. He’d bedded hundreds of Betas and even a few Alphas which had suited him just fine. “I know a little but not all that much truthfully,” he stated while looking at you through the circular window in the cabin door. You hadn’t moved an inch, your gaze still trained on the floor, sitting in the exact position Shanks had left you in. He could only imagine what Kid had done to you to train you to such a sick level of obedience. 

“We’ve got to get to an island and dock for the duration otherwise everyone’s gonna be miserable, especially Beckman. You’re not gonna want anyone else around her either.” 

“How do you know she’s going to be in heat?” Shanks asked, genuinely curious.

Hongo scoffed and rolled his eyes. “Doctor isn’t just a title, I went to a real medical school. I learned about all this and we need to get her ready. If this is her first heat like she’s saying it will be, it’s going to be intense.”

“What does that mean exactly? What do we need to do for her?” Shanks’s practical knowledge about heat cycles left something to be desired. He’d often glossed over those sections in manuscripts under the assumption that it would never apply to his situation. 

Hongo rubbed the back of his neck in thought. “If you’re keeping her, there’s a lot we need to do. First, she must bathe so I can tend to her wounds. After that, you’ll have to scent her. If you want the heat to go as smoothly as it can we need to erase any scent left from Kid and replace it with yours. That way she’s not searching for her old mate, even if they had a….bad relationship. We’ll need to get her soft, clean, unscented linens and blankets so she can make her nest. She needs to eat up - heats use a lot of the Omega’s reserves and she doesn’t have that much left. We need -”

Shanks cut off Hongo with a wave of his hand. “One thing at a time. First, let’s bathe her.” 

“After the bath, we’re gonna need Beckman,” Hongo stated.

“Beckman? Why?” Shanks was an Alpha too and stronger besides. Anything Beckman could do, Shanks could do better unless it took two arms. Belatedly, Shanks realized his feelings were the precursor to jealousy. He threw Hongo a frown before he carried on speaking in a sullen tone, “She doesn’t need him.”. 

“I’m gonna have to clean and dress her wounds,” Hongo explained.

“So? What does that have to do with him?”

“He’s gonna keep you from punching or trying to fight me. You’re not going to like watching me tend to her or hurt her, no matter if it's for her own good.” Shanks rolled his eyes at the doctor’s words.

“Pffff. It’s not gonna be like that, I can control myself. It’s not like she’s my mate,” Shanks scoffed.

“I’m getting Beckman,” Hongo stated, unmoved by Shanks’s self assuredness.

Your POV

You heard the Captain and doctor talking outside of the door but were lost in your own thoughts. You’d been off your homemade suppressants for a while but you had pointedly avoided thinking about the possibility of going through heat. You had chalked your rising temperature up to your wounds causing you to be feverish. Nuzzling into the cloak, you inhaled Shanks’s scent deep into your lungs. The velvety material and clean smell made you feel peaceful to the point of being a little sleepy. You ached to lay back on the comfortable looking bed and curl up into a ball but he hadn’t given you permission to. You wanted to pass and show that you could obey in case this was a test. Kid liked to test the limits of your obedience in creative ways and you’d learned your lessons the hard way. He would leave food out when you were hungry and punish you if you ate it, or leave out blankets when he’d told you to remain naked and enter his cabin randomly. So you sat even though you were bone achingly tired.

You tried to look about your surroundings surreptitiously while you waited. The wooden cabin was mostly tidy but well lived in. Clothes were piled on a lounge chair in the corner, a writing desk had letters, maps, and an inkwell on top, and a small bookshelf held a few tomes. A dark colored chest had more linens poking out of the corner while the bed you were perched upon was large and covered in fuzzy sheets and piled with blankets and pillows. You didn’t see any hooks or chains hanging from the walls, maybe the Alpha wasn’t going to shackle you to the bed. The room had the aroma of the Alpha and gave off the feeling of coziness, of snuggling under blankets on a cold night. It felt….homey.

The door opened and Shanks reappeared without the doctor. Watching the Emperor approach, you didn’t want to imagine his displeasure at finding you asleep on the bed when he hadn’t allowed it. Kid’s power was mind boggling to you and the Emperor had swatted him away like a fly. You would do anything to remain on the Emperor’s good side even if it was to your own detriment. You heard him approaching you and watched his sandaled feet stop in front of you. He didn’t stoop down to catch your gaze but you felt his hand land at the top of your hair. You winced, remembering all the times it had been pulled in the past. No pain came as Shanks just patted you and rubbed the strands of your dirty hair between his fingers.

“Hongo has to treat your wounds. We need to get you clean first though, yeah? And take these off too,” Shanks’ fingers left your hair as he spoke. He reached down into the cloak and pulled on the chain between the cuffs you were still wearing. Feeling the bed dip next to you, Shanks pulled one of the cuffs closer to his face to inspect the manacle. “Where’s the lock? They’re not welded shut,” Shanks noted. 

“Magnetic,” you said in your hoarse voice. Shanks’s face soured as he traced the smooth metal of the handcuff with his thumb.

“Ah.” Shanks seemed to mull your response over for a few moments before he commanded you to close your eyes. You complied immediately and heard crunching as the metal of your cuff fell off your wrists. You desperately wanted to see how the Emperor had gotten them off but you were waiting for his command. A warm and calloused hand rubbed your bruised wrist where the metal had been previously. “You can open them again,” Shanks said softly, running his thumb over your pulse. There were no weapons around and the Emperor’s sword was still sheathed within the scabbard. You could only guess the power he’d used to remove them. 

The door swung open and three men appeared, two carrying a metal tub filled with steaming water and the third with a bucket with toiletries. Shanks stood to put himself between you and the crew members, blocking them from your view. “Thanks, guys, just put it over there,” the Emperor requested, gesturing to the largest open area of the cabin. The men followed their Captain’s request carefully but a little water sloshed on the floor. Alarm shot through you at the sight of the water on the floor, and you hoped the Captain didn’t blame you or punish you for it. You nearly went to clean it but you hadn’t been told to leave the bed and the new men were still in the room.

“Is it time for introductions? I’m Lime -” one of the men began speaking in your direction.

“Ah, not now. Maybe later Lime Juice, sorry. Thanks for bringing the tub,” the Emperor said with genuine praise in his voice.

“No worries. Nice to meetcha Little Miss,” the man said easily. You didn’t reply. The men exited the cabin leaving only you, Shanks, and the piping hot bath. 

“Come on, then. Let’s get you in there while it's still hot,” the Emperor suggested. You nodded and stood up, shucking the Emperor’s cloak you’d been clutching.

Shanks POV

He shouldn’t have been surprised when you complied immediately, leaving his cloak on the bed and revealing your nude body. You’d been beaten into submission - if he told you to jump overboard he’d hear the splash shortly thereafter. His eyes raked over your form while you limped to the tub, noticing the bruising, the cuts, the marks he hadn’t before. Even in your currently broken form, you were breathtaking. Shanks’s fingers twitched with the desire to touch you but he stuffed his hand into his pocket for the time being, getting closer to aid your descent into the water.

“Why are you limping?” Shanks asked as you gripped the edge of the tub to lift yourself in. You froze in place, looking down at the water. Raising your foot behind you revealed a deep gash in the sole of your foot. Shanks crouched down to get a better look at the wound while capturing your foot in his hand. The doctor hadn’t inspected the bottom of your feet so he was sure Hongo hadn’t seen this one. The cut was clearly deliberate with how deep and uniform it was. Taking a deep breath to avoid swearing caused the tempting perfume of your cunt to hit Shanks’s nose. His first instinct was to hold you in place and run his tongue all the way up your legs till he reached your tantalizing pussy. Then he wanted to rub his nose up and down your slit until the scent of your pussy was all he could smell. Now wasn’t the time, you were shaking and tired and had a long way to go until you could rest.

“Ach. I wish you’d said something, are there any other cuts Hongo didn’t inspect?” Shanks said in mild admonishment. You licked your lips and nodded slowly. You were shaking, your shoulders hunched in to make yourself smaller. “Hey, don’t worry, I’m not mad,” Shanks said quietly, putting your foot back down and standing up, regrettably moving away from the scent of your groin. He cupped your face and rubbed his thumb over your cheek repeatably in an attempt to soothe you. “I’m not mad, I just need to know where you need medical attention. I can’t help you if I don’t have all the information, right?” You nodded, your hair obscuring your face from his view. “Where’s the other cut?” Shanks inquired while moving his hand to the small of your back.

You took in a deep breath and put your good foot on the tub, opening your legs to his eyes. At the very inner crease of your leg, where your thigh met your groin, was another infected bite mark. Shanks squared his shoulders and kept his face neutral. His first instinct had been to snarl at the offending sight but managed to restrain his response at the sight of you. Shanks saw your vacant gaze, shaking hands, and clammy skin and knew it would only make things worse.

“”S all right. We can let Hongo know later,” Shanks slipped on the mask of his affable nature as he spoke to smooth over the moment. “In ya go, Love,” Shanks said while picking you up by the waist and depositing you into the tub without warning. Shanks needed you in the water so your smell would dissipate before he lost control of himself. You hissed when your skin hit the water but otherwise made no movements. “Here you go,” Shanks said, handing you soap and a towel before dragging a stool over to sit near the tub. “You do your front, I’ll get your back.” 

You began lathering the washcloth with soap and warm water before you began rubbing down your arms and torso. Shanks maintained a steady one sided conversation while he started pouring water down your back. He was trying to acclimate you to the sound of his voice in an attempt to bring you comfort in what surely was an uncomfortable time. While lathering his own washcloth Shanks saw the formerly clear bathwater turning rust red with every swipe of your hands. As he began sudsing your back his eyes picked up faded scars he’d missed when looking over your more recent wounds. 

“I’m gonna wash your back now, ok? It’s hard to wash your own back and even harder when you only have one hand. There are more tasks than you’d think that require two hands, even beyond fighting or washing. Can you imagine how difficult buttons are to do with one hand? Or even tying boots? I have Beckman help me, that’s Benn Beckman, my first mate. You’ll meet him later, you’ll like him for sure. He looks gruff but make no mistake he’s a total sweetheart. He says that I milk it, and I do of course, but what’s the point of being a Captain if my first mate won’t hand feed me eggs every morning?” 

Shanks was acting casually but he noticed a miniscule shift in your mouth as he joked about Benn feeding him breakfast. You were close to smiling and Shank’s heart swelled with pride. He knew there was some glimmer of you buried deep within and he was going to bring you back to the surface. He finished washing your back and you’d washed your arms, torso, and legs but made no move to wash your hair.

“Do you want me to wash your hair, Love? I can if you’d like,” Shanks was trying to offer you as many simple choices as possible to show you that he wasn’t going to control every aspect of your life. You shook your head in response to his query. “Alright, go ahead then, almost done here,” Shanks said gently but to his surprise, you shook your head again. “No? I don’t mean to be rude sweetheart but your hair’s dirty, it needs to be washed.” 

“Cut it all off,” you rasped. Shanks tilted his head to the side, your request startling. Even male Omegas preferred long hair, it was simply a characteristic commonly associated with the dynamic. One of the most severe non-corporeal punishments an Omega could face was having a forced haircut. For an Omega to request a drastic haircut was unheard of. Your hair was long, indicating you’d been growing it long before Kid had gotten his hands on you even through your time being suppressed.

“Can I ask why?” Shanks questioned, picking up the soggy ends from the water. 

“Can’t be pulled,” you answered. You parted your hair in the back, showing a bald spot where your hair had been yanked out from the root. Shanks moved his stool so he was no longer sitting behind you but beside you.

“Look at me,” Shanks requested and you partially complied as you turned your head towards him. You looked at his chest but not at his face. “ Look at me,” Shanks repeated, this time with a Command. Not physically able to disobey an Alpha of his power, your widened eyes snapped to him. It was the first time he’d Commanded you to do anything, but this was important.

“I’m not going to hurt you. Not now. Not ever. You may not always like what I do, but I will never harm you. Do you understand?” Shanks said softly while stroking your cheek with his thumb. He’d done that a lot, he mused. Something about you called him to take care of you, to provide for you physically and emotionally. You nodded. “I’m gonna have to hear you say it,” Shanks said, almost sorry for forcing you to talk.

“I understand,” you stated in your ruined voice. Unsure if his Command was completed you continued looking at him. Shanks smiled at you and kissed the top of your head.

“I’ll tell you what, we’ll make a deal. I’ll wash and brush your hair for you tonight. If you still want to cut it off tomorrow morning, we will. We can have matching haircuts if you want,” Shanks said, flipping back his own hair for emphasis. A ghost of a smile turned up the corners of your lips as you nodded your consent to his deal.

Your POV

Your arms looped around your knees in the cooling water as Shanks washed your hair tenderly. You had been sincere in your wish to cut it - you never wanted to be dragged by your hair ever again. Shanks’s offer startled you since Omegas were often physically groomed to whatever standard the Alpha wanted regardless of how they felt about it. The bath had given you a lot of stress since you weren’t sure what to expect. Anything new, any deviation from the standard made you nervous since you couldn’t predict the outcome. It had been an all right experience but not as relaxing as the Emperor had anticipated. 

Shanks only had one hand but it didn’t slow him down when bathing you. He rattled on about whatever he was thinking about while you listened as he worked the soap onto your scalp and rinsed it. He was pulling the brush easily through your hair while telling you about a strange boy he’d met years before when there was a knock at the door. 

“Wait,” Shanks ordered in a tone more stern than he’d used when speaking to you. “Up, dear,” Shanks motioned with the hairbrush. The water dripping off you in rivulets left you exposed to the cold air making your skin erupt into goosebumps. Shanks quickly dried you off with a fluffy towel before he wrapped it around your body. After you were dried to Shanks’s satisfaction, he swapped the towel for a large purple robe, picked you up, and sat you on the chair by the desk.

“Come in,” Shanks said, sitting on the edge of the desk next to you. He took your wrinkly hand and held it in his own as you resumed staring at the floor. Three pairs of boots walked past and you heard them hefting the tub back out of the room.

“Blech, what’d she do? Bathe in mud?” one man said.

“Shut the fuck up,” Hongo replied calmly while coming to stand in front of you. He had his medicine kit again and you knew this part would be even less fun than the bath. Two pairs of boots stopped in front of you but you only recognized Hongo’s. The other male was also an alpha though not as strongly scented as Shanks.

“There’s a few more Hong,” Shanks said casually, stroking the top of your hand. “She’s got a cut on the sole of her foot and one on her inner thigh. Both need attention.”

“Alright, not an issue. Let’s get started,” Hongo said while setting his bag on the desk. “Over to the other side of the cabin,” Hongo ordered Shanks, who bristled immediately. 

“Nah, I’m gonna stay here,” Shanks said, keeping your hand in his own.

“No, you’re not. Go over there with Beckman. I don’t want to have to treat my own wounds in addition to hers when I stitch her up.” You cringed, waiting for the Captain to slap his subordinate but it never came. Instead, you heard a deep voice ushering the Emperor away from you.

“C’mon, Cap. ‘S for the best. We’ll be a few feet away and she’s a big girl, she can be apart from you for a minute or two.” You were guessing this was Benn Beckman, the first mate Shanks had told you about. Shanks whined in response but let go of your hand nonetheless.

“”M right here if you need me, Sweets,” Shanks reassured you as he receded. You didn’t protest but a part of you did wish Shanks was nearby. You didn’t feel all that comfortable around him but he was the person you were most familiar with. Hongo had been taking tools and liquids out of his bag in preparation for the procedures. After putting on a pair of glasses, Hongo snapped on a pair of rubber gloves.

“It’s not gonna feel great, but I’ll try to make it as painless as possible, OK? Let’s start with your neck, I think that’s the most severe. Did you wash it in the bath?” He asked, using the stool Shanks had previously occupied. You nodded in confirmation that you had followed the doctor’s orders.

“Let’s take a look, yeah?” You tilted your head to allow the doctor access to your neck. Even though you knew he was going to touch you, you still flinched when he made contact with your skin. “I’m gonna clean it and drain the pus. After I’m gonna have to stitch it,” the doctor informed you. You heard the sound of liquid moving and felt alcohol being applied to your neck. Not wanting to interrupt Hongo’s work, you stayed as still as you could even as the alcohol burned on contact with your wound. 

“See? Not even a single reaction outta me,” you heard Shanks say in the background and Beckman grunted in response to his captain.

After wiping down the area, you heard the clanging of metal as Hongo picked up a scalpel. You closed your eyes and waited for the sharp pain as the knife met your skin. Based on other wounds you’d received, you knew the doctor was trying to be gentle but you still hissed as he cut into you and pressed on the wound.

“No, sit down. She’s fine -”

“I AM sitting down, but I just wanna go -” 

“No, stay put.” You heard Shanks and Beckman arguing on the other side of the room. Hongo was right to bring the first mate, it sounded like Shanks was having a hard time watching the doctor tend to your wounds. You wondered if it was from possessiveness, like Kid, or because he didn’t like watching you being hurt. You didn’t think about it for long as a sharp pain crowded out your train of thought when the doctor began pressing on your wound to drain the pus.

“Not much more, almost there. It’s a deep wound, otherwise I wouldn’t have to stitch it.” You whimpered as the doctor pushed even harder for a moment, then covered the area with gauze. You heard scuffling again.

“Let go of me Benn, I need to - I said stop shoving me!” Shanks’ voice rose with more anger in his voice. His scent was starting to bloom, filling the air with the smell of oranges and cloves in an unconscious effort to soothe you.

“One more time and you’re out of the cabin until he’s done. Stop talking and distracting everyone. You know it’s for her own good so Let Hongo work,” Benn huffed. You couldn’t concentrate on Shanks anymore because the doctor started to stitch. You closed your lips into a thin line and screwed your eyes shut in a futile effort to block out the pain.

“Ah, relax, relax. If you tense your muscles it hurts more,” the doctor chided you gently as the needle pricked your skin over and over. You relaxed your face as much as you could. You’d had stitches before and you were no stranger to pain but the bite was in such a delicate and sensitive area you couldn’t help as a few tears escaped your eye. Finally, you heard the words you were waiting for.

“All done, just snipping the end of the thread. One more moment and we can move on.” Scissors were brought close to your face and snipped the end of the medical thread. “Look straight ahead for me?” Hongo instructed you, facing you head on. You looked forward, your neck aching with the effort. “And turn to the other side?” You turned and saw Shanks smiling and waving at you despite being held against the wall by Benn. You dropped your eyes after a moment too long.

“So what’s next? Shanks said you had a foot injury? Those are a real drag,” Hongo said, trying to make light conversation. You nodded and crossed your leg over your knee to show the doctor the sole of your foot. Hongo reached out to pick up your foot by the ankle and peered closely at the wound with his glasses.

“Knife?” he asked abruptly. You nodded. “Accident?” You shook your head. 

“Punishment. Ran away,” you said quietly. Hongo hummed and tilted your foot. You used the extra fabric of the extravagant robe to cover yourself more as Hongo lifted your leg and placed your foot on his lap. Shanks growled lightly but otherwise made no noise.

“Luckily it’s pretty shallow. Probably hurts to walk but it should heal quickly. I don’t need to suture it but I am going to wrap it,” Hongo explained. He cleaned the wound and used long nosed tweezers to get a few pieces of debris out. The digging was uncomfortable and made you try to jerk your foot back unintentionally but Hongo’s grip was tight. He finished quickly and wrapped the wound in gauze and bandages.

“Next is the leg, right? Let’s see,” Hongo offered. Your mouth twisted as you thought of having to show the wound. You pointed to the bed and hoped the doctor didn’t think you were arrogant.

“Sure, go ahead and lay down if it's easier for you,” Hongo offered. He picked you up and you heard the Emperor’s rumble returning, making you ball your hands into fists.

“Oi, you’re scaring her Redhair,” Benn said as you were placed on the bed. The rumble stopped for a moment but quickly resumed as soon as you opened your legs to show Hongo the wound. You were covering what you could with the robe but Shanks only got louder as Hongo came closer to you. As his head dipped low to look at it with his glasses, Shanks’s loud roar made you cower. 

“That’s it, we’re leaving,” Ben said, manhandling the Emperor out of the cabin. “I’m keeping this one outside. Let us know when you’re done. C’mon you,” Beckman said, still grappling with a struggling Shanks. You knew that if the Emperor really wanted to stay, no one on board could keep him out. You guessed that the Emperor was trying to allow Hongo to take care of you but the Alpha within him didn’t like the other male so close to you. You closed your eyes and willed this experience to be over as soon as possible. Hongo was touching your upper leg in a professional manner but the feeling of someone near your core had you near tears. This wound wasn’t as bad as the one on your neck since you had secretly washed it a few times. 

“All done. Good job, Omega. You did better than some of the men on board,” Hongo said before removing the gloves and putting his glasses back in their case. “You stay there, I’ll get Shanks.” No sooner had the doctor finished speaking than the door opened and the Emperor strode in, carrying a basket in his hand. You sat up and gulped, unsure how angry he would be. 

“Out,” he said to Hongo before he shut his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose. “Sorry Hong. What I meant was, thank you. And you were right about Beckman, owe ya one.”

“Owe me a bottle of booze is whatcha owe me,” Hongo said, smiling easily. “Have her eat and go to sleep. Poor thing’s exhausted.” 

“Already on it,” Shanks murmured. He placed the basket on the bed as the doctor left, taking his equipment with him. “Didn’t know what you liked, so I took a bit of everything. The crew already ate dinner and those assholes left no leftovers. Well, we didn’t really know you were coming, but Lucky’ll make you whatever you want tomorrow. For now, here’s a little snack.” Shanks reached into the basket and pulled out some cheese, dried meat, grapes, crackers, and some nuts. “I stole a bunch of this from Beckman’s cabin, he’s got good taste.” You hesitatingly reached over to the slices of cheese, taking one in your hand. Biting into it, you nearly moaned. You hadn’t had fresh food in forever, subsisting on whatever Kid remembered to bring into his cabin. 

You ate a few more slices in silence, Shanks leaning back on the bed and eating some of the mixed nuts he’d taken. “You want one?” he asked, holding a grape in his hand. You nodded and held out your hand to take one from the bowl. “Ah ah. Open,” he demanded, putting the grape right in front of your lips. You obediently opened your mouth and Shanks popped the fruit in. You didn’t know why but you felt yourself starting to blush faintly. You were wearing the Emperor’s robe, on his bed, after he bathed you, and yet feeding you a grape made you feel embarrassed? You yawned after you swallowed, your eyelids feeling heavy. You wanted to rest but were still unsure if you needed permission.

“Aw, you’re tired? ‘S alright, we can eat more tomorrow. Drink a cup of water and we’ll be off to bed,” Shanks said, pouring water into a cup from a bottle on the nightstand. Handing you the cup, your fingers brushed against his. You drank greedily, draining the cup in seconds. “More?” Shanks asked but you shook your head. He quickly put the food back in the basket and set it on the floor.

“Lay down. You look so sleepy little Omega. Come on, right here next to me on the bed, it’s nice and warm, I’ll hold you,” Shanks cooed at you. Your lip wobbled at the suggestion but you held firm and didn’t cry. You’d spent many nights on the cold floor of Kid’s cabin, your chains pulling at your weakened limbs. Crawling over to the head of the bed, you laid down on your side on one of the fluffy, feather filled pillows. The Emperor covered your body with his heavy blanket and you burrowed down into its warmth while inhaling the rich scent of the Alpha. You’d missed being warm and comfortable at night more than any other luxury, even more than eating regularly. Shanks laid down behind you and pulled you close to his body, draping his arm loosely across your torso. 

“Good night, little Omega,” he said, kissing the top of your head.

“Good night, Emperor,” you croaked, already half asleep. One thought tickled the corner of your mind before you could succumb to sleep completely. “The other ship?” You’d felt the Emperor’s boat rock earlier but you were too focused on your circumstances to notice anything else.

“Hm? Kid’s ship? Dorry and Broggy cut it in half,” Shanks mumbled while running his hand up and down your ribs. You hummed happily and let sleep overtake you.

Taglist: @mfreedomstuff @v1ennie @staarflowerr @treelogirl @rebeccawinters @nocturnalrorobin @mochiclouds @cursedforlife666 @epochal-oracle

[agitateandeducate]

Just some reminders because COVID NEVER WENT AWAY! Wearing a N95 grade mask consistently is a baseline level of protection and necessary whenever you're out in public. Thanks covidsaferpdx for creating and sharing these amazing mask graphics! ❤️

-- -- -- -- Image Descriptions -- -- -- --

6 square graphics. ID 1: light pink background with two toned pathogen illustrations in the top left corner. There’s a darker pink rounded rectangle in the middle with white text that reads: Reminder - wearing a N95 or higher rated respirator can save not just your life, but the lives of those around you! Beneath the text is an image of two N95 respirators, one in black and one in pink. End id.

ID 2. light purple background with two toned pathogen illustrations in the top left corner. There’s a darker pink rounded rectangle in the middle with white text that reads: Reminder - anyone can get covid-19. Regardless of their health and vaccination status. Yes, even you. Beneath the text is an image of a kn95 ear loop purple respirator and a purple 100 respirator. End id.

ID 3: light teal background with two toned pathogen illustrations in the top left corner. There’s a darker pink rounded rectangle in the middle with white text that reads: Reminder - wearing a mask is a proven layer of protection; engage in multiple layers of protection during an ongoing pandemic. Beneath the text is an image of a green kn95 ear loop mask and a N95 white respirator. End id.

ID 4: light pink background with two toned pathogen illustrations in the top left corner. There’s a darker pink rounded rectangle in the middle with white text that reads: Reminder - covid is airborne. It will not build your immunity. It will compromise your immune system with each infection. Beneath the text is an image of a pink kn95 ear loop mask and a white N95 3m aura. End id.

ID 5: light purple background with two toned pathogen illustrations in the top left corner. There’s a darker pink rounded rectangle in the middle with white text that reads: Reminder - we’ve been abandoned for profit but we can protect each other by wearing a mask. We keep us safe! Beneath the text is an image of purple N95 3m aura and a dark mauve p100 respirator. End id.

ID 6: light teal background with two toned pathogen illustrations in the top left corner. There’s a darker pink rounded rectangle in the middle with white text that reads: Reminder - Back to normal is a blood-soaked lie We must take care of each other and that means masking up! Beneath the text is an image of a blue p100 respirator and a white N95 respirator. End id.

[d1xonss]

Desert Rose

Series Masterlist ~ Seasons 1-5

✧ Media : The Walking Dead

✧ Pairing : Daryl Dixon x OC

✧ Status : Ongoing

Warnings : Mentions of blood, death, gore, swearing, sex, violence, etc.

Prologue ~ When a zombie apocalypse breaks out and wipes over half of the population, Rose is left alone to take on this new world as it unfolds. She knew it would be difficult, for things to not work out the way they once did, turning in ways she never would've expected. But what she really didn't expect was to come across more survivors like her. Not only that, but the journey that would come right along with it.

Disclaimer ~ This is a fan fiction I wrote that follows the TV show The Walking Dead, Seasons 1-11. This mainly follows the entirety of the plot of the show, but there will be little changes here and there that I've added on my own. There may be some disturbing topics in some chapters, but there will always be a warning at the top before you read. I don’t own any of the characters in the series except for my OC. As of now the story is not complete, but there will be weekly updates. Let me know if you would like to be added to the taglist!

Hope you enjoy!

Character Moodboards

Season 1 ~ Moodboard

Chapter 1 - Introductions

Chapter 2 - Who the Hell are You?

Chapter 3 - Opening up

Chapter 4 - One Long Day

Chapter 5 - Decisions

Chapter 6 - Metallica

Chapter 7 - Overthinking

Chapter 8 - Panic Room

Season 2 ~ Moodboard

Chapter 9 - Sophia?

Chapter 10 - Darkness

Chapter 11 - The Farm

Chapter 12 - Cherokee Rose

Chapter 13 - Hey Stranger

Chapter 14 - Thank you

Chapter 15 - Heart Attack

Chapter 16 - It ain't like that

Chapter 17 - Guitar lessons and confessions

Chapter 18 - Gone

Chapter 19 - Goodbye

Chapter 20 - Stay

Chapter 21 - Randall

Chapter 22 - Scars

Chapter 23 - Broken

Chapter 24 - Good Mourning

Chapter 25 - The Herd

Chapter 26 - Reunited

Season 3 ~ Moodboard

Chapter 27 - New Beginnings

Chapter 28 - Stranger Danger

Chapter 29 - Shit happens

Chapter 30 - Three little words

Chapter 31 - Happy Birthday

Chapter 32 - Avoiding Me

Chapter 33 - Woodbury

Chapter 34 - Come with me

Chapter 35 - Hey Jude

Chapter 36 - The Attack

Chapter 37 - Welcome Back

Chapter 38 - Worries and Apologies

Chapter 39 - Going to War

Chapter 40 - The Deal

Chapter 41 - Peace

Season 4 ~ Moodboard

Chapter 42 - Wildflower Wildfire

Chapter 43 - The Honeymoon Phase

Chapter 44 - Little Things

Chapter 45 - All Good things Must come to an End

Chapter 46 - I’m Here

Chapter 47 - Infected

Chapter 48 - In Sickness and In Health

Chapter 49 - Blood runs Thicker than Water

Chapter 50 - Bring me to Life

Chapter 51 - Liar

Chapter 52 - We’re Okay

Chapter 53 - The Pretty Purple Clip

Chapter 54 - Claimed

Chapter 55 - Moonshine and Memories

Chapter 56 - Alone

Chapter 57 - Found

Season 5 ~ Moodboard

Chapter 58 - As Deep as a Wound

Chapter 59 - The Priest

Chapter 60 - Just Married

Chapter 61 - White Crosses

Chapter 62 - Deafening Cries

Chapter 63 - Death’s Deaf Ears

Chapter 64 - The Rain

Chapter 65 - A Friend

[canisalbus]

hello!! i’ve always wondered what kind of traumas vasco holds himself. i know machete can be very particular (e.g. touching/personal space) , but what are some things maybe machete does to make vasco more comfortable out of just their pure love for each other? like, for example - assume vasco maybe has a hard time keeping up with personal hygiene , or maybe machete is just a lot more clean and neat than vasco is , so machete is always folding his clothes to his own standards and reminding him to wash his fur after a while of going about weekly things , since machete himself probably washes every so often just to brush out matts in his fur .

love your art btw!! :3

He really doesn't like being told what to do. His father was keen on molding Vasco into his own image and his mother was overbearing and overprotective. He was their only son (youngest child, he has two older twin sisters) and as such a lot of pressure and unrealistic expectations were placed on him. He has a tendency to rebel against authorities, especially those who use their power and status to make life miserable for people below them. He has hard time accepting advice and doesn't listen if someone shows up to explain him how he should live his life. One of the ways Machete occasionally gets on his nerves is his constant need to be in control of everything going on around him, which means he often ends up attempting to (well-meaningly) manage Vasco as well. Eventually he figures out Vasco isn't very receptive to outside guidance and usually tries to give him room to do things his own way, even if it's not the "correct" way he would prefer to handle them.

Machete has many health anxieties and once Vasco becomes a fixed part of his life he starts to worry about his wellbeing as well. Like many floppy eared dogs, Vasco has a history of dealing with recurring ear infections, especially when he was very young. Antibiotics weren't available yet so the most effective way to treat them was puncturing the ear drum and letting the accumulated fluid and pus drain out. It was painful and scary and left Vasco with a lasting aversion and distrust for medicine and doctors. He's the kind of person that resists seeking treatment even when they're clearly ill or injured and just tries to shrug it off and wait it out. Luckily he's rarely sick and the scuffs and bruises he gets from being an active and outdoorsy person heal fairly quickly. Nowadays he's very careful about drying and airing out his ear canals properly when they get wet, in hopes of minimizing the chances of another infection. He also cleans them regularly, or lets Machete help with that.

He can be a bit disorganized and overly spontaneous, which can manifest as certain sense of chaoticness. Machete does end up subtly and discreetly picking up after him, planning ahead and going the extra mile to make sure Vasco's life goes as smoothly as possible, usually in ways Vasco doesn't even notice. The clothing part was an apt everyday example, Vasco has a habit of disrobing quickly and carelessly and leaving his (expensive and expertly tailored) garments on the floor or draped across furniture and sooner or later Machete will collect them and fold them neatly for him.

[pinkandgoldensoul]

CL#16 || living in vain || drabble

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If this is your first time here on this blog, please check the Disclaimers here.

pairing: charles leclerc x female!reader genre: extra angst, comfort !tw!: negative thoughts, mental breakdown. If any of the things above might trigger you, please DO NOT INTERACT. Take care of your mental health and stay away from triggers, please ♥ other notes: you can find the request here word count: 0.7k

Cold spread from your fingertips onto your skin, printing shivers all over your arms as you braced yourself under the duvet. You trembled, hearing the howls of the wind shaking trees in the dead night, incapable of falling asleep. You curled on one side, trying to get small upon the mattress. That stone cold loneliness hardened your heart hit after hit. Gripping the hem of the sheets tighter and closer vainly seeking warmth, you let out a sigh. You felt like crying. As any other day. As any other week, month, year. Maybe bitterness and despair would eat your heart out and waste it gradually until you'd die, consumed; maybe tears would leave marks on your cheeks like acid rain digs holes on marble statues. Maybe you'd be left sinking into pain for the rest of your life, laying sleepless in your bed every single night.

You pressed your cheek harder on the pillow, almost burying half of your face. Thoughts popping up like your brain is a computer running with countless viruses. Where's the bug? Where's the bug in you? Where's the infected folder? Your own WannaCry malware? Where's the option to turn off everything, shutting down the engine, putting an end to it?

You whined against the pillow. You silently gasped, noticing Charles moving a bit by your side; you should've paid attention, instead of risking waking him up. His precious soul, his shining armor blinding you with its brightness, the mere thought of his perfect love for you brought you to tears. Again, you hid your shame, your guilt and sorrow against the pillow, and finally some warmth came through hot tears rolling down your cheeks. The air flowing quickly in and out your parted lips matched the rapid gusts of wind whistling outside the window; you had perfected the art of silently crying just so that you wouldn't ruin Charles' needed rest time. As not to ruin his life completely, at least. So selfish to drag him down to your level just for your own benefit, when he could choose anyone else and live the fulfilling life he deserved. Stuck with you. What a senseless waste of time. You covered your mouth with your hand, eyes shut in pain.

«Hey…» Your breath hitched, not sure whether you had misheard him mumbling to you. As his loving and warm touch sparked on your skin through the gentle grab of his hands, drawing you near his chest, surrounding you and creating a shelter of comfort, your sob cut through the silence of the bedroom. He shushed you with tenderness, reaching over to your ear and carefully putting rebel strands of your hair in place, with soothing movements dictated by sleepiness. «It's okay.» You sobbed louder and tried to retrieve from his embrace at his words, knowing their falsehood, but Charles' arms didn't let you escape his nestle of care. «Whatever is the matter, we're going to solve it together.» He then left a kiss on your shaking shoulder. «I'm here for you, okay?» His fingers, spreading open on your stomach, felt like a caress to the soul. And though your head ached - from crying, from hurting, from the weight and the darkness of its content -, you couldn't help but notice the muscles of your body relaxing a bit into his hold. «I love you.» Another hot tear crossed your cheek, but at his words you smiled. You took the arm draping over you and placed it higher, so that it would wrap over yours, shielding you completely; Charles complied right away. «You're freezing cold… Want another cover?» While Charles was about to roll over to get out of bed and grab another blanket for you, you caught his arm, silently pleading him not to leave you. Reading your will, he engulfed you back again, fully, wholly, unconditionally, affectionately, holding you with nurturing sweetness, resting his head next to yours. «Let’s sleep.» Such a simple sentence, yet breaking your heart into more sobs. So many nights you had wished for peace to come quick, in various shapes and forms; what a relief, what a moving joy, what undeserved luck to have it, at last, in the purest of its manifestations. Love.

THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR READING! ♥ I’D REALLY APPRECIATE IT IF YOU LEFT A NOTE FOR FEEDBACK, SO THANKS IF YOU DO! HOPE YOU HAVE A NICE DAY! . · ˚✧

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[shinynewboots]

Hazbin Hotel Characters as Medical Specialties

Charlie: Pediatrics

You're telling me can't imagine Charlie with Bluey stickers in her pocket and saying "oh I see a dog in your ear. Woof!" When using an otoscope on a child with an ear infection? Be so for real rn

Vaggie: Emergency Medicine

This woman thrives in chaos, she grew up on a battefield. The ED is the Wild West of medicine and Vaggie thrives under the constant stress and variety

Vaggie: "what do you mean you were woodworking while drinking, are you fucking stupid"

Vox: Nephrology

Okay, okay this one is less based in personality and more based in the fact that I need to see a pissing competition between Vox and Alastor (as a cardiologist) about fluid status and renal function

Vox: *decreases lasix dosage in a patient with poor renal function*

Alastor: *punches Vox bc that patient is also fluid overloaded and has heart failure with a reduced ejection fraction*

Velvette: Dermatology

Listen you can't tell me that she didn't have amazing skin when she was alive. I can see her moving more towards the cosmetic side of dermatology with occasional biopsy or Mohs bc who doesn't love a procedure every once in a while

Cherri: ICU/Crit Care

Like Vaggie, Cherrie also thrives in chaos and things in the ICU can go from 0 to 100 in less than a minute. I also feel like she would have pretty good empathy and separation of work and home to be able to not let the job get to her too much

Angel: Psych

This just feels perfect to me, more based on my own experience but everyone I've met in Psych is kind while also being the coolest person you've ever met. I also think Angel would really be able to empathize with his patients based on his own history with addiction. He really likes to listen and offer support and advice.

Alastor: Cardiothoracic surgeon or Cardiologist (to get into a pissing contest with Vox about fluid and sodium)

Look, I know Al is like the perfect surgeon. He's intimidating, meticulous, and calculating. And I don't disagree, I think he would thrive as a CT surgeon...however, there's just something about him arguing with the nephrologist that just gives me the giggles

Lucifer: Internal Medicine

Listen, he's done it all and seen it all. He will spend hours rounding because he just wants to make sure he gets everything right (he's also avoiding going home alone but that's a different story). He also loves working with medical students and will give rousing lectures on first-line antihypertensive and diabetes medications (while also getting all of the students and residents names wrong).

Lute: OBGYN

Listen, I love Lute but if I knew her in real life she would intimidate me so badly. Much like the OBGYN attendings I worked with. She's amazing at her job and beloved by her patients for her blunt yet realistic recommendations, but in her L&D room or operating room, that is her domain and there is no deviation from that. Medical students and residents should exercise caution, but she will teach them the most out of any rotation

Adam: Orthopedics

This man is an ortho bro if I've ever see one. He is the attending who will pimp medical students on the playlist he has playing in the OR instead of the surgery in front of them. (What do you mean you don't know what artist this is? It's the fucking Eagles. Go home and study up, we're playing Led Zepplin tomorrow.)

Niffty: Pathology

Listen I have no explanations for this one. It just felt perfect, tbh

Husk: Anesthesia

This man is like every anesthesiologist I've ever met. He is there stereotype and sits behind the current with his sudoku in hand. Don't let that fool you, this man has knowledge and skill and is not afraid to use. The second your patient starts de-sating or coding, he's the one you wanna listen to

Rosie: Family Medicine

Rosie is the picture-perfect family medicine attending. Kind, empathetic and offers great advice. From cradle to grave, she's got you covered with primary prevention and screening and will be there for you for whatever comes next

Lol this is meant in good fun, so there are a few stereotypes about the different specialties and a lot of it is based on my own experiences on rotations. Let me know what you guys think. I know I missed some characters so let me know if y'all want me to come up with more.

[symbiotic-demon]

*swallows* ouch *swallows* yeoch *swallows* Ouvh *swallows* owie *swallows* AUAAUUUUUIGH

[jester-lover]

Hi I would like to request the Twist dorm leaders with their s/o forcing them to get (or just to go with them) to get snake bite peirceing!

Snake Bites

dorm leaders with an s/o who has snake bites!

cw- piercings, blood mention, fluff, a lil insecurity, all around wholesome, gn! reader

( I couldn't find a good snake bites gif, so take Moomin)

Riddle

Riddle definitely grew up thinking piercings were unsightly or unrefined, but he quickly discarded that thought process seeing you enchanting you looked with your snake piercings

If your snake piercings are new, know that this boy will have you on your salt water regiment strictly, he will not see you suffer through infections!

He is definitely a fan of golden jewelry, and he may gift some to you on your birthday

“Dearest, remember to clean your piercings before classes today!”

Leona

Leona thinks your piercings are so cool, I mean look at him, the guy dresses like a grunge cowboy

If your piercing is new, he’ll be a little curious, asking if you bled or if it hurt, he cares about your well being

He loves lip rings, he thinks you look great with them

I feel like Leona would love having body mods, but really can’t because of his royal status, so he’ll be 100% supportive of yours

“The rings look better, more outgoing.”

Azul 

Azul has learned from his own childhood to not judge others based on appearance, especially not his own s/o. He likes your piercings for the way that they differentiate you from the other students, individualism is his bread and butter after all!

If your piercing is new, he’ll be extra careful not to snag or bother it accidentally, remembering to hug you with a tilt

In his own opinion, lip studs are better than rings, he especially likes the shiny bejeweled kind

“You truly are sparkling, my treasure.”

Kalim

Kalim is not unfamiliar with piercings, his own ears are pierced! He loves having an s/o with piercings/ body mods, because it gives him another excuse to spoil you rotten

If your piercing is new, he’ll have trouble not being as affectionate as he usually is, but he’ll manage

He buys you so much jewelry, he absolutely loves just surprising you with new jewels, and the price tag is the least of his worries

“I finally found the artisan who made my earrings, and I got him to make you matching snake bites.”

Vil

Vil adores your piercings, specifically if you let him give you little makeovers

If your piercing is new, he’ll keep you on a strict regimen, there will be un unsightly bumps, bleeding or sore skin on his watch

His most favorite thing to do when styling your snake bites is adding simple silver rings, and matching them with silver eyeshadow

“Now, liebling, keep your head still so I don’t spread the pigment to your nose.”

Idia

He thinks you look so awesome, like the rebellious character in a video game, which is why he’s really excited to ask you about your piercings

He’ll be a little surprised by all the care you have to put into maintaining a piercing after getting it, and he’ll admire you for making the commitment to your look

Idia gets the issue of getting weird looks, so he always knows how to uplift you when your feeling down

“So, you have to soak it in salt water two times a day? What happens if you wake up late?”

Malleus

Oh humans and their delightful little arts and crafts!

He finds himself enamored with the piercing process, asking you so many questions about the pain levels and how often you have to take care of it

Malleus loves your piercings so much, probably because he feels like you match him aesthetically with them

“Lilia had piercings just like those in the 2000s, don’t tell him, but in my own opinion you are far better suited to them.”

This is a scene/emo! Lilia stan account. (maybe a future fic idea?)

[felinefractious]

Hi! I was wondering if you have any thoughts or resources on the Highlander/Highland Lynx breed? Or what, if any, is the difference between the two?

I've read that they're two different breeds, but that that may only be the case because of different registry requirements..??

Also, are they really truly domestic? Every where I've read has said that they most certainly are, but that they're also crossed with Jungle Curls? That bit has left me a bit confused...

https://www.petfinder.com/cat/sampson-71366971/wi/new-richmond/gregorys-gift-of-hope-inc-wi432/

This pretty little guy is up for adoption at a shelter near me, and I'm contemplating going to see him (if he isn't snapped up in the next week lol), but I'd like to cover all my bases for breed research first!

He apparently came in fully intact and was recently neutered which seems.... Strange to me. The people who surrendered him supposedly bought him from a breeder out of state?

I'm not by any means 100% certain, but i did look at a few Highlander catteries and I THINK I may have found his breeder? At the very least they have a king that very well looks like he could be this guy's sire

https://www. highlanderswildnwonderful.com/ Kings.html

I do still wonder why he would be sent out as a companion fully intact though... Or why he wound up in a shelter and not returned to the breeder...

Anyway! I'd love to hear thoughts/opinions resources for potential health issues

So far I've only read that they require frequent ear cleanings and have some UTI issues, but the stumpy tail does make me a little nervous... It doesn't seem to be the same thing as manx, buuuuuut......

Woah, amazing find!

From what I understand - and if this isn’t correct someone more familiar with the breed is welcome to correct me - but the Highland Lynx is essentially the outdated name for the breed more widely known as the Highlander.

The exception largely being the Rare and Exotic Feline Registry which has decided the Highland Lynx is still the Highland Lynx and the Highlander is the same thing but backcrossed to the Desert Lynx use in the breeds foundation.

Which doesn’t make sense to me, it should just be considered an allowable outcross…? But whatever. I don’t respect that registry anyways.

As for their domestic vs hybrid status it’s true that the Jungle Curl is a Jungle Cat and American Curl but it seems like the Highlander falls more into the Toyger realm… there are technically wild caat hybrids in the ancestry but they’re far enough removed that it isn’t super relevant.

Even after 4 generations a cat is largely considered domestic or “SBT” (Stud Book Traditional) and these guys are generally even further out than that.

Before I get into the health of the breed I just need to make a small correction to their description… this handsome fella is not chocolate, he’s black sepia - often called brown or sable, sometimes called natural.

The toe beans tell, and he has many beans to reveal his secrets.

Currently we are not aware of any issues related to curled ears the way there are with folded ears but anecdotal evidence suggests that they’re more fragile and.. yes, require more frequent cleaning. Dirty ears and ear infections are definitely something to be mindful of.

As much as I enjoy polydactyl cats I’m not a fan of deliberately breeding for the trait, the nails on these extra digits can be difficult for the cat to maintain and are more prone to becoming ingrown. Some cats even require an onychectomy (declaw) of the excess digits due to reoccuring problems.

[Image Source]

So acclimating to having their paws handled and tolerating routine nail clips is an absolute must.

And finally… the tail.

Your concern about the relation to the problematic manx gene is warranted.

There are presently two types of tail mutations documented in domestic cats: the “natural bobtail” manx gene due to T-box mutations and the “asian bobtail” due to an HES7 mutation. The latter is not presently associated with the same issues as the manx gene.

HES7 mutations are not present in the Highlander.

Two T-box variants have been identified in the Highlander breed, meaning the mutation for their bobtail is the same as those responsible for the manx. Standard Highlander’s can have no tail to a short tail, those with a long tail are considered non-standarf and are largely used only for breeding purposes due to the lethal nature of T-box mutations when homozygous.

Some Highlander lines owe their bobtail appearance to a “novel variant,” meaning no known mutation has been identified. As this variant or variants are currently unidentified we can’t confidently say which gene (if either of them) it’s most closely related to or if there are similar issues associated.

All that being said not all manx gene cats will present with related problems and for those who do the severity is variable, some may have minor issues that can be managed with diet or medication while others may be… pretty severely effected.

I imagine at this age they would have a good idea of if Sampson has any issues and to what degree they’re present if he does.

If you’re prepared to deal with potential health issues should they arise I think it would be lovely to adopt him, you’re not contributing to the breeding of more if you go through a rescue and are equipped to educate others on why “Yes, mine is awesome but no you don’t actually want one.”

Like Dr. Frank Bozelka and his rescue Scottish Fold. His videos are hilarious and informative, by the way, I definitely recommend giving him a follow.

It would also be good for him to be placed with someone aware of and prepared to accomodate possible breed-related issues instead of someone who just wants a fancy cat… but I understand this can also be overwhelming, so absolutely no judgement if you decide to pass.

But if you do adopt him I’d love to see more pictures! I want to squish his cheeks.

[promptsforyourwhumpfic]

The Grand A-Z List of Whump 3/3

This list contains 194 items listed R to Z

As always, I heavily encourage people to research topics thoroughly when writing as it is important to avoid stereotypes/misinformation. This list's intention is to not glorify/romanticise sensitive topics in any way.

This is a comprehensive list of injuries, Illnesses and tropes - including those from the Whumptober 2023 trope vote!

All submissions are listed in italics, and those who wanted to be tagged will be included at the end. If you have any more submissions: please send them via DM/my ask box.

[A-H] [I-Q] [NSFW List]

List below the cut:

R

Rabies

Radiation Poisoning/Exposure

Radio Silence

Ransom Note/Video

Rashes

Recovery

Reducing breaks or dislocations (bonus: out in the field with no painkillers available)

Reflection

Rejection

Reluctant Caretaker

Reluctant Whumpee

Reminded of trauma

Reopened Wound

Repressed Emotions

Repressed trauma resurfacing

Rescue

Rescued by the enemy

Rescues gone wrong

Respiratory Distress

Restraints

Reuniting

Revenge

Ringing Ears

Ritual sacrifice

Rockslides

Role Reversal

Rope Burns

Running fingers through hair (maliciously or comfortingly)

Running Out of Air

Ruptured eardrum

S

Sacrifice

Sadistic Choice

Sartorial constraints

Scars

Scoliosis

Scraped Knees

Scratched corneas

Scratches

Seasickness

Second impact syndrome

Secrets

Sedated

Seeing double

Seizures

Self esteem issues

Self induced injury to escape

Self sacrifice

Self-aid

Self-inflicted injury (to escape)

Semi-consciousness

Sensory Deprivation/Overload

Sentimental Items

Separation

Sepsis

Servitude

Setbacks in recovery

Severed Artery

Shaking Hands

Shipwreck

Shivering

Shock

Shock collar

Shot (gun, arrow, dart, etc...)

Shrapnel (blast/wounds)

Sick/injured at a party

Skull fracture

Slapped

Sleep Deprivation

Sleep Paralysis

Sleeping in the cold

Sleeplessness

Smashing their head into a wall

Smoke Inhalation

Snake Bites

Sneezing

So sick they can barely even stand or stay awake

Significant other taking care of wounds

So weak they have to hold on to something or someone to walk

Solitary Confinement

Special object being ruined/torn apart

Spinal Cord Injury

Split lip

Sprains

Stab Wounds

Stabbed (sword, spear, knife, TRIDENT!, etc...)

Stabbed through the back by the only person the whumpee trusted

Stage fright

Stalking

Status epilepticus

Stiches

Stings (insect, creature, plants)

Stitches

Stoic/Defiant Whumpee

Stoic/Rude/Harsh Reluctant Caregiver!Mentor & Ball of Sunshine Hurt!Mentee (platonic)

Stomach ache

Stomach Ulcers (a cause for vomiting up blood)

Stomach virus

Straight Jacket

Strangling

Strangulation resulting in bruised or swollen vocal chords and loss of voice + the process of regaining your voice and everything that comes with that trauma.

Stress (this could induce headaches/general illness)

Stress Position

Stumbling

Sucking chest wound

Suffocating

Sunburn

Super glued to toilet

Surgery

Surgery gone wrong

Surrendering

Survivor's Guilt

Swollen Lymph Nodes

T

Tachycardia

Taking the bullet

TBI (traumatic brain injury)

Team as a family

Team has a certain amount of time to get to their Whumpee before they’re killed

Team teaming up to take care of sick teammate

Temporary Loss of Sense(s)

Tendonitis

Tetanus

The Final Straw

Thrown from an explosion

Time Loop

Tiny whump

Tonsillitis

Tooth knocked out

Torn Ligaments - Achilles, Meniscus etc.

Torn Muscles

Torture

Touch Aversion/Touch Starved

Tranquilizer Dart

Trap

Trapped (whether this is after an explosion, car accident, natural disaster…)

Trapped Limbs

Trapped underwater

Trauma reveal

Tremors

Trust Issues

Truth spell/serum

Tuberculosis

Twisted ankle

U

Undead (vampires and ghosts and zombies, oh my!)

Unhealthy Coping Mechanisms

Unresponsive

Upper respiratory infection

Used as bait

Usually big, strong and boisterous whumpee becomes quiet and weaker as the whumper conditions them.

UTI (Urinary Tract Infection)

V

Vampire whump

Vampires Thrall

Vehicular Accident

Venom

Vertigo

Very badly hurt and on life support - with slow recovery

Virus

Visions

Vocal chord paralysis

Vomiting/Vomiting blood

W

Waterboarding

West Nile virus

Whip scars

Whipping/Flogging

Whumpee being psychologically tortured via fake escape scenarios so when they are actually getting rescued they don't believe it. bonus point if they still don't think anything is real.

Whumpee dreams of a loved one happily inviting them “home” (They're actually dying IRL)

Whumpee getting the upper hand over whumper.

Whumpee stabbing whumper or beating their head into the ground over and over while sobbing, even when they’re clearly dead because they NEED to take their emotions out.

Whumpee turned Whumper

Whumpee watches caretaker take a bullet/hit/poison for them.

Whumper turned Caretaker

Whumper turned whumpee

Whumper with a crush

Wincing/Flinching

Wing whump

Wisdom Tooth Removal

Withdrawal

Withholding Medical Treatment

Witnessing. (Whumpee sees someone die in a brutal way. Whumpee sees someone get possessed/turned into a zombie/some other horrifying thing and they just stare horrified.)

Working for the enemy

Working through injury/illness

Working to Exhaustion

Wrists rubbed raw

Wrong Place, Wrong Time

Wrongfully Accused/Arrested

Wrongfully fired

X

Xeroderma. (Extreme sun sensitivity)

XMRV is a newly identified human retrovirus that is similar to a group of mouse retroviruses (called murine leukaemia viruses, or MLVs)

Y

Yellow Fever

Z

Zombie virus, etc.

Zoonotic Hookworm

Zoonotic illness (It’s a disease carried or transmitted by animals to humans like tularemia or psittacosis)

Zosler (Shingles)

Zygomycosis (Fungal infection)

TAG LIST: Thank you very much to the following people for submitting ideas! (I apologise if some tags did not work, I'm not sure why tumblrs not letting me tag you!)

@I-eat-worlds | @greygullhaven | @letsgowhump | @cyberwhumper @firapolemos05 | @originaldeerhottub | @whumpilicious | @drawing-dinos82 | @carenrose | @stellarinuscronicles | @gottheseasonalblues | @marvelflame2010 | @sowhumpful | @avamcu | @courtneygacha | @lordofthewhumps | @autismmydearwatson | @kuddelmuddell | @the-most-handsome-ginger | @whirls-and-swirls | @painsandconfusion

[cherri-balms]

♡﹕𝐍𝐄𝐗𝐓, 𝐍𝐄𝐗𝐓! — PROLOGUE

▶︎ •၊၊||၊|။||||။ ၊|• 0:00

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A/N﹕YAY I FINALLY FINISHED THE PROLOGUE FOR MY FIRST SERIES!

This is the first full fledged fanfic I have written in a long time, I hope anyone who finds this finds it enjoyable, I had a fun time writing this prologue chapter and I currently have around a 10-12 chapter vision for this series as it stands, but if this proves to be something you guys like I will be happy to extend the series! I do plan to create a tag list, if you would like to be added shoot me a DM and I will add you to the list! As always any replies will be made through our main acc @caravan-mad!

This prologue pretty much gives most if not all the information about the reader aside from important plot details. I wanted the reader's demon form and time period to be as ambiguous as possible and limit the use of Y/N, the reader in this story has allegories to butterflies.

Not all chapters will have warnings nor does this one, however the full fic will contain dark content and will be under the dead dove do not eat tag.

Some content will include but are not limited to: Unhealthy relationship dynamics, N.SFW, Unrequited love, Yandere themes, Dubcon, and pretty much any tag youd find listed in Hazbin Hotel tbh

𝐄 × 𝐌/𝐅 × 𝟐.𝟔𝐤 × 𝐎𝐧𝐠𝐨𝐢𝐧𝐠 × 𝐀𝐎𝟑

♡﹕Bored at work performing repetitive choreography and pleasing faceless demons, you find yourself reminiscing on life, death, and limbo.

♫ envy baby ~ ♫

“Lights clear? Sounds clear?” 

“We’ve been fucking over this Steven! We’ll know it’s clear when they finally stop tuning our shit-” 

“Anne chill, we still have six minutes till airing. Don’t waste all your energy on the roadie.” 

“That crowd doesn’t seem to be getting any quieter does it…” The little imp’s observations were now only being met by eyerolls and silent treatment by the two drummer girls as the completed instruments silenced in countdown. 

Lights crew above, sounds crew from behind, and effects team surround. The way every single backstage member of your cast would run and scurry around you to get their various tasks done always made you think of little mice, rats even, so worked up making sure everything was in perfect position before those curtains had a chance to stop separating you, from them.

It was cute enough to make you laugh as though you were still a highschool girl.

“Broadcasting live in 60 seconds!” Dark blue scene lighting begins to fade your entire surrounding to a pitch black, and among doing so freezes your little mice into statues all around. Only the tiniest crack in the fabric ahead illuminated the space with a sharp vertical line down the curves of the figure that stands as the adorning center piece of this particular attraction. Roaring bass brings about a quake to the stage beneath your feet, queuing time for you to give your puppies a treat.

“Awwwe~ Did we leave you waiting long?” The volume of pure passionate devotion always rang to your ears louder than any electrical speaker could achieve. 

The wave of the new future adorned in electrical inventions was something you’ve always been prepared to face; why even in the faint blur of the overworld it was all the grown ups could ever yap enough of! No, that wasn’t where that bitter taste came from.

In the full truth of things, you just never knew you’d stick around long enough to bear full witness to its infection of mankind.

Oh come on. Who are we kidding right now?

“Hi. I wanna people save, all right? ”

You’ve never been more liberated.

“You’re in m-my way!!”

Your eyes have but a second to adjust to the flood of bright neon before life hits play once again. The choreography you, and and the other 4 devils fanned out beside you have programmed into your bodies for the past months flow across the stage with ease. among the camera men you can make out the mass of waving pen lights stirred ablaze after the long anticipation, oh how you love they always use the color dearest to your heart…

“The tightrope falls, broken by others”

Once you felt the rushing high of the stage the first time around tolerance for it subsided immediately after. You’ve seen the looks on those poor saps down in the front row, each one hyper fixated on every movement you make wishing they could be you, or be up here with you.

And of course, you all flash them bright smiles, longing gazes and praise them with verses of purity more fitting for the angelic souls looming up above. Customer service is the utmost desired, as they say!

“What a lady, she’s gonna jump

towards the light and shatter humiliatingly”

Actually, can you even remember when your first performance was? How old were you even? All of this came from a cheap shot of gaining a few quick pennies back in the day. Landing yourself a handsome and rich husband with the filth you wore on your back was the first childhood dream you found dead on arrival, but what you were cursed in status you were blessed with the cuteness that made kittens hiss in envy. To say you had “the voice of a goddess” would mayhaps be a bit too presumptuous, but who were you to refute the compliment when it came your way?

Well, maybe trying to parse through finding the day your career debuted or took off was a fool's errand, but the moment it ended certainly still remains as a burned film stuck to your mind. You stopped caring about the “Oh woes me~ what did I do to deserve this~” a long time ago. Still, the punishment you received in death far exceeded what you ever did to earn in your eyes, more so than your sentencing of eternal damnation.

“High and without care I’m lonely, lonely”

Right on que, as always every time you reach exactly 32 seconds into your first song the intrusive memory flashes the same images of the past over your current reality it almost feels as if you were stuck suffering that fate again each time.

You wish there was more to say on the matter of your demise, but there’s only a brief two second window between staring down some heckling loud mouth making a scene in the crowd and a bomb beneath the stage going off before your soul is falling down under the earth’s crust as a blazing comet onto the asphalt below.

And two days before your 21st birthday too are you serious?! UN-Fucking believable!

“From their idle words, the clown becomes a prisoner”

The only thing you wanted to do was scream in the immense burning agony you were suffering until the whole world knew the kind of pain you were in, but each time you cried not even a croak could get past your scorched throat

Even after the blazes subsided and your charred cocoon was all that was left behind, the inferno decided your vocal chords were going to be its payment.

…. That was it?

This was your payout…

And after all that work…

“It’s the same love as always, no way I’d have regrets”

Surreal didn’t even begin to describe what became of the following weeks, months, you haven’t a clue. The construct of night and day seemed to mean jack in the bizzare wonderland of maddness holding you, only so much telling what shade of putrid red in the sky was darker than the same shade of fucking red from two hours ago! What a productive way to spend your newfound endless time!

Every aspect of this place made you absolutely sick, enough so to have you still praying you just were drugged and having the worst trip of your fucking life, but the horror in maddness is the consistency that lies between the lines. You’re certain that damned illuminated “WELCOME TO HELL!” sign and the stranger you befriended in the mirror was that line that made you finally cave.

“Hey, it's a amazing.”

Honestly, you couldn’t say what specifically led you into the epiphany you had, all of a sudden one day you heard a sudden snapping sound in your conscience, and like that everything made sense to you. Why your life was snuffed before you could emerge from your cocoon, why your makers deemed this your new home, and why that bomb taking your life just wasn’t enough to deem your afterlife a hell.

There was a certain liberation that came with hell that you were never going to get being the glowing little diamond you were in human society, through terrorism, cannibalism and bloodshed one thing would remain a constant throughout devil society. No one would ever give a damn about anything.

Hell became your fucking playground by the time your first extermination came around, and keeping on the move while broke as shit was a cakewalk this time around, but your first encounter with an overlord after catching your foot in the grave in the casino humbled your inflating ego. Chaos for society did not necessarily mean chaos without hierarchy, and going without a voice to call your own put you at an extreme disadvantage.

“LA-LA-LA!”

The crescendo of the opener is right around the corner, for the leading front and center of your group your vocals and choreography had primarily remained reserved for backup. The primary color of lights among the crowd made the obvious clear with who the majority of these demons were here to see, your manager was aware of this more than anyone else.

Your fans tended to be aware of this for a majority of your shows, your parts in particular tended to stand out even as mere background vocals.

“I’m ready for this this lover baby! 

My garden of love is in danger from a drawing hand. 

Truly, this this lover’s crazy! 

In the garden of harm, the bud of a human is a lie-ai-a!”

Sinners rejoice once the solo everyone was edging towards drops with the bass of the loudspeakers and the flares of the strobes above. The pitches your vocals were now capable of hitting and the frequency you were able to synthesize between notes wasn’t just inhuman, it was impossible for any singer whose notes carried on oxygen.

Your manager always made it a note in the writing room or when creating your setlists that overfeeding wolves with delicious treats would dull the taste over time, your solo singles often did well enough to prove this didn’t need to always be the case, but whenever it came to the business decisions you always put your full trust in him. Where you are standing right now is more than enough proof in your eyes that he knew exactly where and when to move his pawns, and in doing so he turned you into a valiant queen.

“Ah! I love you and even things about you I probably shouldn’t love 

I love you too much, on a count of one and two 

Lie-lie loving you, such words 

and doing such things, you’re in m-my way!”

Survival was of the least of your concerns after so much time had passed, but survival was all you could find yourself able to do in your forced retirement. Where you yearn for character in sound you were able to temporarily find when turning to radio, but living vicariously only quenches so much before greed starts cozying up within.

Plausible excuses for your laziness were wearing thinner by the day, even the last sane smolder of human morality trying to keep itself sparked wanted nothing more than to argue you weren’t supposed to be living to the fullest in hell, but the mute silence in your throat was beginning to phase your memory of the voice your inner conscience called its own too, and you'd sooner go mad trying than wither away again a fucking waste.

“Here comes the love maniac who never misses,

Stack up all the whining,

Fall in a high-fi love lie-ai-a!”

Overlords were still beings that had you nauseous upon first glance, your first meeting of one of these overlords had you vowing to never end up in the claws of one again, should you find yourself in a deal you can’t unbind yourself out of. Pride stuck thick to the roof of your mouth and there was nothing more you wanted to do than stick to your morals and prove use on your own, but reality had pelted you with stones throughout your entire afterlife.

You were going to need to write out a loan before you’d find yourself with any ounce of power to call your own, not like you didn’t have options for whom to choose! Even so, you needed to keep a steady head and an even sharper nose. In your ponderance you'd come to realize there was only really one option for you to go to this whole time. Maybe that gambling kitty taught you a valuable lesson on staking bets in the long run.

“Copy their acting and keep the truth hidden

Stacking three and lonely, lonely 

You’re surely a clown, a prisoner”

A bet on the future was what you were going to stake it all on.

“Copy their acting and keep the truth hidden

Stacking three and lonely, lonely 

You’re surely a clown, a prisoner”

Everything about how the world operated changed so rapidly from the days walking in the sunlight to your eternal party in the redlight, the wave of the future had finally hit with the promise for a solution to everyones problems. There couldn’t have been any better timing, if technology was going to be the way of the future, who's to say you couldn’t prove what was achievable? Like that, you had your sales pitch. The hardest part on your end was complete.

“Hey, it's a amazing.

LA-LA-LA!”

“So you were a singer in life and lost your voice in death, and just what the fuck made you think I was the man to go to for this?” Those were the magic words you were waiting for, with his composure shaken it wasn’t long before he was the one asking the questions and allowing the ball to move into your court. Your fingers dance on the illuminated tablet laying on the table once again before you flip it over toward his direction.

~Have your inventions not made it to that level of advancement yet?

Hook, line, and sinker. You had a hunch a passive aggressive challenge toward the ego would be what ultimately won you over with any overlord you chose, but the speed in which he stood from his desk and held out his hand, it felt almost too easy.

“If it’s a new voice you wish to invest in, consider your stocks opened, Monarch!” Finally…

“I’m ready for this this lover baby! 

My garden of love is in danger from a drawing hand.”

“Now for what you have to offer me,” You don’t care. “I hope you weren’t planning on extorting me out of a generous gift and then making the big bucks with it, hm?” These overlords just love to hear themselves go on.

“Truly, this this lover’s crazy! 

In the garden of harm, the bud of a human is a lie-ai-a!”

“I suppose I could just issue a royalty for your voice, after all you wouldn’t be making a sound without my tech. Lucky for you, I’ve been having fleeting thoughts of entering the music industry. So why not invest in each other instead~”

“Ah I love you and even things about you I probably shouldn’t love 

I love you too much, on a count of one and two”

Being owned by an overlord in the end wasn’t so bad, or maybe this is the fated “stockholm syndrome” everyone seems to be crying about these days. Either way, the biggest price you had to pay in the end was just having someone else do all the “business” part in show business.

Naive maybe, but rosey eyed you weren't. For all that he’s done you still fail to see how your end of the deal has in any way repaid what’s given, which can only lead to one thing down the line. You were going to have to give him your everything.

… Yet, how could you find yourself ungrateful to someone who fulfilled your afterlife dream and still continued to provide for you?

“Lie-lie loving you, such words and even such things, they’re in m-my way!”

The audience went absolutely ballistic at the final group pose signifying the end of your opening set, some of the really hardcore fans in the front row you swore passed out the second eye contact was made.

Yet when you turn your chin upward to the VIP section after performing your tricks so well, all you’re met with is a turned back and a schmoozed up producer instead of a tasty bone.

“Thank each and every one of you for coming to see us tonight!!” No, you only wanted him to come out to see you.

Only you.

Hey, Vox?

Can you just turn your stupid flat head this way?

[alittleharpy]

Infected - Zombie!Ghost

A Ghost x Y/N Oneshot (fem Reader)

Part Two

MDNI | 18+ ONLY

TW: Gore, zombification, dumbification, blood, sex, desperation

“Simon?”

Your voice cracked.

Seeing the friend you’d just watched die standing in front of you with blood dripping from his fingers made every hair on your body stand on end.

His eyes stayed on you, but he didn’t move. Like he was analyzing you.

His dog tags were still in your palm with the chain wrapped tightly around your fingers. It clinked softly as you trembled.

The sound that left his throat was animalistic, raspy, but he somehow formed words. Like his vocal chords were re-learning how to make the sounds, “You… okay?”

You let out a sharp, deep exhale, “Yeah.” You said softly, “You?”

He let out a sound like a chuckle, even though it sounded wet, “Not sure.”

Boots sounded on the floor again. More hostiles? Your head snapped in the direction, so did Ghost’s.

When you saw Price’s gun raised, heard Ghost’s snarl, you jumped up, putting yourself between them.

Price’s face was contorted in confusion, seeing Ghost standing behind you even though you’d deemed him KIA. Ghost’s chest pressed up against your back, his ragged breathing near your ear. Almost like he was trying to be protective of you.

“What the fuck is going on?” Price asked.

“I…don’t know.” You admitted, “Ghost was… he was gone. I checked. But now… I don’t know. Now he’s not.” You swallowed, “We need to get him out of here. He took penetrating rounds to the chest.”

Price looked around at the carnage in the hallway, then at the blood on Ghost’s hands, “Did he do all this? With multiple GSW’s?”

You opened your mouth to speak, but Ghost did first, “Yes.” He strained. His voice sounded better with each word, more like himself.

Price just stared for a moment before he motioned for you to follow. Ghost stayed right behind you, nearly stepping on your boots with his own as you walked.

“Ghost, status update.” Price spoke over comms to Laswell, voice tense with disbelief, “Alive.”

You sat next to Ghost in the heli, watching as a medic pulled up his shirt to reveal the wounds in his chest. They were open, raw, but where red blood should’ve been pouring out, there were congealed, inky masses oozing from the wounds.

The medic pulled her hands back, just staring in shock. His eyes locked on her backing away. He chuckled again, “What’s wrong…love?” You looked up from his chest to see that he was addressing you.

You winced as the medic turned her attention to you, wrapping up your arm. The blood had soaked down your arm, drying to your skin. You could almost see a flicker in Ghost’s eyes as he noticed it, something that looked a lot like hunger.

“What’s wrong?” You scoffed, “You died on me. You were dead.” You sucked air through clenched teeth when she pulled the knot tight.

His gaze locked onto you, dull, but brimming with an intensity that mingled somewhere between the living man you knew and the undead soldier he had become. A grunt was all he could muster, laying back on the seat. You could almost see the effort it took for him to tear his eyes away from your injury.

"Dead?" Ghost's husky voice was laced with a sarcastic edge, almost as if he found the idea amusing, but the new cadence of his speech betrayed the strangeness of his new existence. "Nah, love. Just took… a nasty nap, didn’t I?"

You noticed the tension in his body right away, “You okay?” You had no idea what was going on. You didn’t even know if he was still Simon anymore.

"No. You're hurt," he said, eyes narrowing as he observed the medic finishing off the bandage. The medic finished with your arm and quickly scurried away, not daring another glance at Ghost’s unsettling wounds. The inky substance oozed slower now, his wounds almost appearing to self-staunch. He pulled his shirt down, putting a barrier between everyone’s eyes and his body.

His head tilted slightly towards the smell of your blood, a guttural noise vibrating in his throat – something primal and hungry. But he managed to pull his gaze back to your eyes with a clear effort, his expression softening, a hint of the familiar kindness peeking through. "Bit peckish, but I'll manage. 'Sides, I've got better things to focus on... like making sure you're alright."

You could tell he was struggling, every muscle in his body tensed to restrain his baser needs. It was a battle of wills within him, the soldier's discipline fighting against the chemical that had brought him back from death's grip.

The monster yearned for the taste and warmth of living flesh, but the man—the man cared for you, and that was clear even through his nearly animalistic behavior.

"Simon," you said, using his real name to try and reach whatever part of him was still human. "You’re acting weird, even for a... well, you know." You gestured vaguely to his body, the wounds, and the way he was now not quite living, yet not entirely gone.

He let out a low chuckle that seemed to rattle in his undead chest. "Weird? Might be the new normal, this." He shuffled closer, a careful movement to not startle you, his cold hand tentatively reaching towards your face.

His touch was gentle as he brushed a loose bit of hair behind your ear. The movement was a bit disjointed, but he had the right idea. “Don’t worry 'bout me, yeah? I've always been a tough bastard. Takes more than a few bullets and a touch of death to keep me down.”

Soap cleared his throat across the heli, Gaz and Price keeping their eyes on him. Simon’s eyes snapped toward them like they had in the hall, almost feral and calculating. The tension was immediate in his jaw, teeth clenching as a growl bubbled up in his throat.

Every cell in your body screamed danger.

And so did the others, whose grips immediately tensed on their weapons. Your instinct was to quickly put your hand on his cheek, coaxing him to look back at you. “Hey. They’re your friends, remember?”

The moment your warm hand made contact with his cold, pallid skin, Ghost's eyes softened, the aggressive glint fading as quickly as it had appeared.

"Yeah, I know," he growled softly, "Just...feeling a bit riled up is all." His face pressed heavier in your hand, and you could tell he was trying to focus on the sensation, to ground himself in something other than the chaotic urges that the chemical stirred within him.

Ghost turned his attention back to Soap, Gaz, and Price, a semblance of recognition in his gaze as he nodded slowly. "Brothers in arms," he mumbled, the words trailing off as if he was reminding himself of who they were and the bond they shared.

Price gave a stern nod, his eyes never leaving Ghost. "That's right. You're with your mates, Simon," he said firmly, his voice carrying the weight of authority that came with his rank. "We're going to figure this out."

Gaz shifted uncomfortably, exchanging a glance with Soap, who let out a long breath. “Never a dull moment with this lot, eh?” Soap quipped, trying to inject some humor into the tense atmosphere, but his eyes were wary.

Ghost's grip on reality seemed tenuous, each moment an effort to keep the hunger and aggression at bay. But the connection between you two was clear, a lifeline for him in the swirling maelstrom of his altered state.

You could sense his dependency on you growing, the trust in his gaze unmistakable. It was as if you were now the anchor in the storm he was weathering, and for now, at least, he seemed content to let you guide him through the turbulence.

As the heli rumbled through the air, you could see the way his body shifted closer to yours, an unconscious pull towards your warmth and life force. Your willingness to bring him back from the brink seemed to offer him a small relief amidst the chaos of his undead cravings—a human connection in a situation that was anything but.

“Laswell’s gonna have a metric fuck load of paperwork to fill out over this.” Gaz adjusted his rifle strap, “You sure you’re feeling’ alright, mate?” He asked Ghost, “I reckon you’ve always been a bit pale, but you look like a sheet of paper.”

You looked down at Ghost’s forearms, his sleeves rolled up to his elbows. Gaz was right. You could see the blue of his veins through the paleness of his skin.

“Listen, this is a bit new for all of us. Let’s just take the questions slow. I doubt Ghost knows any more than we do.” You tugged Ghost’s sleeves down, worried he might be cold in the heli, but could he really feel how cold his own skin was?

Ghost's eyes followed your hands as you adjusted his sleeves, a faint smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth. "Cheers," he grunted, his tone a mix of gratitude and his usual sardonic wit. "Don't want to scare the living daylights out of everyone with my new goth look, do I?"

Gaz chuckled at the comment, shaking his head. "Never thought I'd see the day when Ghost became an actual ghost."

There was a momentary lapse into silence as everyone processed the situation, the humor serving as a brief—albeit very brief—relief from the tension.

Ghost shifted slightly, leaning into your touch as if searching for warmth or perhaps the reassurance that you were actually there with him. "I can't really feel the cold," he admitted with a raspy voice that seemed to scratch at the inside of his throat. "Not like I used to, at least. But don't worry about me, I'm more concerned with keepin' you lot safe from whatever this is," he gestured loosely to himself.

Price's voice cut through the chatter, steady and resolute. "We'll get to the bottom of this, sort you out. For now, let's focus on getting back to base safely and keeping Ghost contained—just in case."

Your hand remained on Ghost’s arm, the contrast between your living warmth and his deathly cold stark and unnerving. Yet, the instinct in you refused to pull away, as if your touch could somehow keep the man within him from slipping away entirely.

[noxturnalnymph]

WIP Wednesday: Man or Bear: Cult Joel Edition

Devotion🖤 III. Path to the Future - Ch 9

Unedited, raw text from the chapter 9 document below the cut. I know it's been delayed but I'm working on it. Thank you all for your patience.

He jolts awake, a sound skimming his senses and alerting him to danger. He lies there, statue-still, and tries to listen past the woosh of the pumping blood in his ears, taking deep breaths to slow his thumping heartbeat. It’s dark here in the thick trees and the sun is low in the sky. He must have slept most of the afternoon away but he can tell it’s not evening yet. Suddenly Joel realizes it’s not a sound that woke him but the lack of sound. There are no birds singing, no insects buzzing, just the eerie sound of the branches creaking and the new spring leaves dancing on their boughs.  He slowly sits up - weapon in hand and his head on a swivel - trying to listen for the clues that nature around him has already picked up on. A predator is nearby. Infected wouldn’t be this quiet, they’re mindless and insatiable and only care about one thing. This is either a large animal or a human. He actually finds himself hoping to catch sight of a black bear as opposed to the alternative.

🖤

Cult Leader Joel on the hunt for his woman.... {he once said... “You can’t fuckin run from me, girl,” he points his finger in your face where you lie. “You can’t fuckin’ escape.”}

[cellarspider]

8/30 Seek and Destroy

(Previous) | (Index) | (Next)

⛬

We return to the movie that I wish to spin in a centrifuge until it separates into layers of its constituent parts, Prometheus.

Content warning for desecration of a dead body, continuing bumblefuck destruction of alien artifacts, and David being the adversarial two year old that he literally is.

Before we begin: Have you turned off Tumblr’s latest “feature”, which opens your account up to AI data harvesting? If not: do it! Log in from a web browser (the app doesn’t have this checkbox yet), go to “Blog Settings”, scroll down to “Visibility”, and turn on “Prevent third-party sharing for [BLOG NAME]”. Do this for each blog you have. Do it. Do it now. Tell your friends, it’s the hot new thing. Run free into the wilderness. This message will repeat whenever I feel like it.

Anyway, on with the show.

David is the most prepared crew member. While nobody else seems to have a single clue between their ears and most of the crew wasn’t even briefed prior to setting out, David has been studying for the past two years, treating language as a puzzle. He’s going to take what he learned and apply it to anything he finds in the alien complex.

And he will apply it whenever the mood takes him, because he is, again, two years old. That was the sense I got in the theater–he finds things he can mess with, and does so without hesitation or consultation with the humans. And while my instincts were still screaming that they shouldn’t even have landed yet, his behavior was the only one that made sense. He has been taught that he is only wanted when he’s useful. He has not been taught to keep his hands to himself. He figures the place out faster than the humans, and he seems pleased with himself for doing so. Therefore, he’s going to do so as much as possible.

As a result, we watch the cast act like screeching gibbons over a hologram. David had begun prodding at marks on the wall that look suspiciously like cuneiform (I’ll rant about it later), and he turned on a hologram projector. Simian crew noises ensue.

Those in the audience who are in the know are also expected to begin screeching excitedly at this point. The hallways they’re in are already taking on H. R. Giger’s signature biomechanical style. These holograms are showing us eight foot tall beings similar to his Space Jockey design.

The Space Jockey, named as such by the Alien production team, was one of those mysterious things about the original movie. Fused to what might have been the helm of the ship, seemingly alone with a hold full of carefully-arranged xenomorph eggs, and long-dead from a chestburster that had infected it. It set a warning signal before its death, misinterpreted by the crew of the Nostromo.

The movie never explained what the Space Jockey had been doing. Was this a cargo ship? A weapon? Was xenomorph reproduction somehow linked to the Space Jockey lifestyle? Their religion? Absolutely no information was given, and thus depictions of the Space Jockeys in subsequent media were split on whether they were benevolent, malevolent, entirely indifferent toward others, or simply too alien to be understood.

Physically, it was a complicated design for Alien’s crew to pull off, even as a corpse. The studio didn’t want to budget for it, and Giger ended up putting in a lot of extra work to help finish the statue. To make it seem even bigger than it was, the children of Ridley Scott and cinematographer Derek Vanlint were put into miniature space suits to give a sense of titanic scale to the creature, three times their height.

Scott made the logistical decision in Prometheus to scale these beings down significantly, purely for the difficulty in setting up shots and creating more sets scaled to this thing. It’s understandable, but I know some people are disappointed by it. As are others by the obvious implication you first get in this scene: the Space Jockey’s truly bizarre appearance is simply some sort of suit, worn by the far more humanoid aliens already seen in Prometheus’ opening.

Normally, I might be among those disappointed by that. I love monsters dearly, if my blog doesn’t give that away already. But there is a minimum threshold for inhuman features that the Engineers still meet for me. Something about the eyes and the uncanny look of their skin, both of which were deliberate choices by Ridley Scott and Neal Scanlan, the film’s creature designer who started with the Henson Company on movies like The Dark Crystal and Labyrinth, and has worked on the new Star Warses, including the absolutely fantastic Andor. Even in behind-the-scenes shots, they manage to look just odd enough to be pleasing to me.

(https://www.deviantart.com/pretty--kittie/art/Prometheus-Engineer-407324586)

I respect the design work that went into it and I like the final result, though I am very sympathetic to those who felt that this was an unnecessary explanation for a creature that was a more powerful symbol when it had no explanation.

Talking about such things is my happy place, and unfortunately we have to go back to The Bad Place now. The characters.

They find an alien corpse decapitated by a door (the great goddess O’Sha is most displeased), and within two minutes they’re sticking a meat thermometer in it.

Fifield the geologist has a panic attack, which is pretty relatable.

“Look, I'm just a geologist. I like rocks. I love! rocks!

Now it's clear you two don't give a shit about rocks.”

He’s right and he should say it. They should still be orbiting the planet looking for artificial structures, and Fifield should be having fun doing an aeromagnetic survey or something.

But no. Meat thermometer. Sorry, “carbon reader”. Says the body’s been dead about two thousand years. They have just punched a hole in the first alien body they’ve ever found, to get precisely one data point. This is what is called a “destructive analysis.”

Destructive analysis is a technical term, so let me define it: You know how a team just read the text inside of a charcoalized lump that used to be a Roman scroll? How they didn’t destroy anything in the scroll to do that? How we might be on a path to getting so many ancient texts it could radically reshape our understanding of the period, and all it will take is some fancy x-ray scans and computers? The opposite of that. Think the opposite of that.

I’m going to go on a tangent out of pure spite and desire to educate. Carbon dating is complicated. There’s two isotopes (types) of carbon: Carbon 14 and carbon 12. C-14 is very, veeeery slightly radioactive, which means it will eventually burp out a little subatomic particle and turn into the non-radioactive Nitrogen 14. C-14 is mostly created in our atmosphere, so once something’s dead and in the ground, it’s not gaining any more C-14, it’s slowly turning into N-14.

We know how long C-14 takes to turn into N-14, it’s about 50,000 years to lose all but 0.2% of the original C-14. If you know how much C-14 something should start with, then you can take a look at how much C-14 your sample actually has, and you can calculate how long it’s been dead. Here’s a quick explainer from Scientific American to visually summarize this.

Now, the more complicated part. You have to know the starting conditions if you want to be accurate. You have to calibrate everything, because the amount of C-14 available in an environment can change over time. We have ways of doing this, but it usually means carefully studying the environment and other clues.

So if you were to actually find carbon-based alien corpses on an alien planet, you’d need to identify the atmospheric carbon isotope ratio, and then you’d be able to make a sketchy, poorly-calibrated estimation, that could be wildly off by a large margin. A critter that did a lot of traveling in its life would be especially hard to date, as you couldn’t be sure if it’d lived where you found it for long enough to take up the local C-14 levels.

In this case, their fancy meat thermometer might be plugged directly into the script, because the number they give is only about 60 years off the actual death date. How do I know this? Because of a thing I’m not saying yet.

That’s enough for this post right now. But I’m not done with this moment. I don’t like this moment, and I need to properly explain why. Next time.

⛬ 

(Previous) | (Index) | (Next)

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Citations for alt-text rambles:

1. https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Chemiluminescence 2. https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Piezoluminescence 3. https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Triboluminescence 4. https://dedalvs.com/ 5. https://www.reddit.com/r/conlangs/