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dewdropdinosaur · 20 days

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White Gold Glitters Too

ALASTOR x READER SMUT

Summary: Lucifer takes too much of a liking to Alastor's wife and he seeks to claim her and prove his dominance. Fucking her for Lucifer to hear sounds like a good option.

Warnings: NSFW/18+. MINORS DO NOT ENGAGE. You are responsible for your own media consumption.

Oral Sex, Reader has a Vagina, Heavy Sex, C*m, Implied P in V Sex, Jealous Fucking, Mention of Restraints, Tentacles

I have never written smut before...so I am sorry.

REQUESTS OPEN

Alastor, the infamous Radio Demon from Hazbin Hotel, was known for his charismatic yet enigmatic presence. He ruled over his domain with a devilish grin and a penchant for blood. But beneath his charming facade lay a heart that beat fiercely for one person: his beloved wife, Y/N.

Y/N was the epitome of grace and beauty, with a kindness that melted even the most hardened of souls. She had captured Alastor's heart as soon as they had entered through the doors of the hotel, and he would do anything to keep her by his side. Having been newly wed, Alastor’s possessive nature seemed to rear its head often when it came to his bride.

However, trouble brewed when Lucifer, the fallen angel and hellish king himself, began to take an seeming interest in Y/N. His smooth words and suave demeanor drew her attention, much to Alastor's dismay. Alastor’s confidence was shaken when Lucifer Morningstar began to show a keen interest in Y/N. Despite her loyalty to Alastor, Lucifer's suave demeanor and irresistible charisma stirred a jealousy deep within Alastor's demonic heart.

It has begun innocently enough, with Lucifer's smooth compliments and flirtatious gestures towards Y/N whenever they crossed paths. Then it turned to a hand atop hers or brushing hair out of her face while she worked on fixing up the hotel. At first, Alastor attempted to suppress his jealousy, masking his feelings with his trademark grin and witty remarks. But as Lucifer's advances towards Y/N became more pronounced, Alastor's facade began to crack.

One fateful evening, as the flames of Hell danced in the distance, Alastor found himself unable to contain his simmering jealousy any longer. He watched from a distance as Lucifer flirted shamelessly with Y/N, his patience wearing thin with each passing moment.

His once cheerful demeanor turned dark as he became increasingly passive-aggressive, making evil eyes at the short king(yes my dears, narrators can make a joke occasionally.) But still, Lucifer persisted in his advances, seemingly unfazed by Alastor's silent warnings. Y/N, momentarily stepping away at Charlie’s call for some assistance, left the two men alone in the lobby.

“Well, well, if it isn't the charming Lucifer. Quite the show you're putting on tonight”

Lucifer smirked, “Ah, Alastor, always a pleasure to see you. And might I say, your wife looks positively radiant this evening. You picked a good one.”

Alastor forced a smile, a natural habit of his that was wearing on him. “Why, thank you, Lucifer. She does tend to have that effect, doesn't she? Though I must say, your interest in her appearance is unexpected.”

“Oh, Alastor, there's no harm in appreciating beauty when it's right in front of you. And your wife is truly a sight to behold.” Lucifer leaned closer, using his elbow to nudge Alastor in the ribs playfully; unaware of the brewing violence in the red demon before him. Or maybe he did know and elected to ignore it. Lucifer did get terribly bored.

Alastor spoke firmly through clenched teeth “Indeed, she is. But I must warn you, Lucifer, my patience wears thin when it comes to matters of the heart.”

“Just engaging in some harmless conversation. Does that bother you?

“Of course, how silly of me to assume otherwise.” Both men quipped back and forth so sarcastically it could've been considered the eight deadly sin.

Returning from aiding the princess, Y/N resumed her place by Alastor’s side and back into the conversation. Unable to contain his jealousy any longer, Alastor put a hand on his wife’s shoulder and looked towards Y/N with a forced smile plastered on his face. "Darling, would you care for a stroll?" he offered, his voice dripping with false sweetness.

Y/N, oblivious to the turmoil raging within her husband, nodded with a smile and waved goodbye to Lucifer. As they walked through the dimly lit corridors of Hell, Alastor's mind seethed with anger and resentment.

Finally, unable to bear it any longer, Alastor halted abruptly and turned to face Y/N. "Tell me, my dear, what is it about Lucifer that captivates you so?" he demanded, his words laced with bitterness.

Y/N's eyes widened in surprise at the sudden change in Alastor's demeanor. "Alastor, what are you talking about? Lucifer is just being friendly," she protested, confusion etched on her face.

"Friendly? Yes, that's one way to put it. Though, his friendliness seems rather... focused, wouldn't you say?"

Y/N glanced at Alastor, sensing the tension in his voice. She attempted to defuse the situation with a reassuring smile.

Y/N: "Alastor, there's no need to worry. You know where my heart lies."

Alastor's smile tightened, his grip on Y/N's hand becoming just a tad too firm.

Alastor: "Of course, my dear. I'm well aware. But it's amusing, isn't it? How Lucifer seems to find you so... intriguing."

Y/N shot Alastor a puzzled look, sensing the underlying resentment in his words.

"Alastor, you're being awfully aggressive. Is something bothering you?"

Alastor's grin widened, but there was a dangerous glint in his eyes as he turned his gaze back to Lucifer.

Alastor: "Bothering me? Not at all, my dear. Just finding it fascinating how Lucifer can't seem to keep his eyes off you. Quite the dilemma, wouldn't you agree?

Alastor refused to be swayed by her words. With a fierce determination, he pulled Y/N flush to his chest and pushed her back against the wall, his grip possessive and demanding. Peering down into her eyes, his own glowed with a dark green hue.

"I'll show you who the better man is, my dear," he growled, his crimson eyes blazing with intensity as he slammed his lips to capture hers. Moaning into the kiss, Y/N slowly brought her hands up to find themselves tangled in Alastor’s red locks.

Trailing his hand up to her waist, Alastor gave it a tight squeeze that made his wife squeak. Chuckling at the reaction, both their lips remained interlocked for what seemed an eternity. Deciding she had enough teasing, Y/N grabbed hold of Alastor’s cane and used its shadows to transport them to their shared bedroom. Taking the hint, Alastor walked their bodies to the king sized bed and laid down on the red silken sheets. Now with back flush against the mattress, Y/N wasted no time in relocking her lips back to her husband's.

Nimble fingers traced up her waist, tugging softly on the waistband of her shorts before suddenly ripping them off of her body. Exposed to the cool air, Y/N let out a gasp of surprise that was quickly replaced with a lewd moan as Alastor traced a knuckle up her clothed core.

“Darling, tsk tsk. We haven’t even begun and you are drenching my fingers through these clothes.” Continuing to drag his finger across her pantie-clad slit, Alastor mumbled the words into the base of her neck.

“Stop–fuck–stop teasing Al.”

“Oh but dear, that’s half the fun.” Despite his words, he obliged her request by removing the offending garment from her body. Working his way down, his face ended between her thighs. His eyes widened at the glittering white gold slick that painted her hole.

“Gorgeous darling, glittering gorgeous.” Diving in, his tongue lapped up all the juices that spilled from her needy cunt. Sucking softly here and there while delving as deep as his tongue would allow(he would not admit to using magic to make it longer), Y/N let out wanton moans and lewd hisses of pleasure. Gripping the sheets beneath her as her eyes remained shut in ecstasy. To make matters worse, or better depending on who you ask, Alastor inserted his finger into her while continuing to feast. He could see her holding back some of her noises, desperate to control her lust.

"Darling, do not hide from me."

"But normally you don't want people to hear--"

"That does not apply today. Let all of Hell and that filthy king know you are mine."

Stretching her open, he added another finger; scissoring her wide. Y/n’s eyes rolled into the back of her head and her body involuntarily shifted away from the overstimulating assault. Taking his other hand, Alastor placed it on her hip and held her in place.

“Unless you would like to be restrained, I insist you remain in place.” Perking up at the thought, Y/N gulped. Being restrained by Alastor’s slick tentacles, forcing her legs open so he could do as he pleased; letting him use them to fill every hole piqued her interest. Perhaps for another time.

The thoughts and stimulation from Alastor’s mouth and his fingers nearly had her cumming, mumbling incoherently for just a bit more to push her over the edge. Smirking, Alastor brought a third finger into her hole, its walls squeezing onto him for dear life. Using his thumb to rub against her clit, the stimulation was bearing nearly too much.

“Go on Y/N. Tell me….tell me how I can only make you feel this good. That even the King of Hell couldn’t make you cum just from his fingers.”

That’s what did it, Y/N felt the coil in her stomach snap as she cried Alastor’s name. Surely, the whole hotel had heard her by now. Just as Alastor wanted. Cum now coated his fingers and the bedsheets below as her high overtook her senses and she saw stars.

Drawing his fingers slowly out of her and bringing them to his lips, Alastor sucked on the white gold juices. Both parties covered in a layer of thin sweat, panting heavily and overcome with arousal. Walking his hands forward till both of his arms caged her in on the bed and she could feel his growing bulge against her thighs, Alastor whispered darkly.

“Now dear, feel like letting Lucifer know how good round two is about to feel?”

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little-pondhead · 4 months

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Danny moved to Gotham.

Freakshow is touring in Gotham.

Freakshow knows Danny is in Gotham.

Danny knows Freakshow is still after him.

Danny's faith in heroes has been shattered.

Danny turns to the only person powerful enough to run Freakshow out of town, hopefully for good.

Danny turns to the Joker for help.

The Joker is looking for a new punching bag sidekick after Harley Quinn left him.

Danny is just the perfect person to be shaped by the Joker's hands.

Danny becomes the new Joker Junior.

#pondhead blurbs #dpxdc #how we feeling about this fellas #i think it's an ideal angst fic #but i don't wanna write it lol #the younger danny is the worse it gets #someone said that danny shouldn't be afraid of the joker because he's a clown and freakshow is a ringmaster. not a clown #if i find that post i'll tag the creator cause i can't remember rn #but i'm imagining danny who is heavily traumatized and scared and lonely #finding out that one of his worst enemies he hoped to never see again is hunting him and is so close danny has to check his eyes every day #just to make sure they haven't turned red #his anxiety is out of control and he's not about to go find a Bat or Bird to talk to #who would believe him anyways? he's a monster #but danny needs help cause he will not survive this on his own and he knows it #freakshow haunts his every waking dream #but freakshow isn't from gotham. he doesn't have the city's curses engraved into his blood. he never died and he's not truly teasing death #so danny chooses to plead for help from the only predator bigger than freakshow (in his eyes) who IS from gotham #danny goes to the Joker. prepared to offer everything but his free will and free mind. he can't give those up. it's all he has.#danny is a feral house cat asking a tiger to take care of a mountain lion for him by offering the tiger his own liver on a silver platter #joker is...delighted? maybe? no one is quite sure. but he takes what danny offers.#here is this little boy. almost the same age as the second robin when he died. pleading for the JOKER to be his savior. this will be fun

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rookflower · 5 months

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on one hand yeah this is the kitty cat book fandom where at least 95% of the people here are just here to draw funny cats or for nostalgia reasons and it's really not that deep, there is nothing wrong with taking a critical backseat on this one. but on the other, the amount of people in the fandom who seem to genuinely believe that children's literature and xenofiction are both somehow inherently unworthy of any form of criticism whatsoever, to the point where random tumblr posts casually identifying shit like.... themes.... and narrative trends... is looking into things way too deeply and makes you a bad or stupid person in some way because "they're just cats", gives the literature student in me such a headache

#im literally writing an academic essay on picturebooks rn you draw the line at warrior cats???#im sorry to tell you that any book ever is gonna have writing strategies and biases in it. and you can analyse em. it's how it goes!#if it helps stop reading critical posts in an accusatory tone towards your enjoyment of something specifically #i had 'steven universe critical blogs dni' in my about page when i was 13 i do remember what it's like

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morganbritton132 · 7 months

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It be so funny if they took Joan to soccer game and put her either in the team colour or a cheerleading outfit.

Great minds think alike because I was just thinking that we having checked in with Joan in a while so this problem is perfect.

Every Saturday for over a month now, Joan has watched the humans and Ozzy leave the house in the morning and come back hours later loud, smelly, and energized. She does not have a problem with this per se but if she had eyebrows, she’d raise one of them. She would raise the other when they’re all too tired to play with her for too long after they come back.

So, Joan makes a decision.

When the next Saturday rolls around and Steve is digging around in the drier for his jersey, she makes her case known. She whines. She meows. She gets in the way of every step. She commits a drive-by biting. She even gets in the storage closet in the hallway and knocks over the dreaded cat stroller so it falls into the hallway.

She makes it very clear. She wants to go.

Eddie coos at her, “Awe, baby, she feels left out. Let’s take her.”

“Ed, it’s hot outside,” Steve replies, gesturing to Joan. She rubs her head against his leg. “She’s gray.”

“Steve, don’t be racist.”

“I’m not being – how is that –“ Steve sputters and then rambles on about tiny bodies, and fur, and overheating in the sun, but Joan already knows she got her way. Steve can’t say no to Eddie and he can’t say no to her either. Plus, she always gets her way.

Her way is the right way.

Steve sighs and gives in, “But if she gets too hot, you have to take her home.”

As a reward for Steve and Eddie’s good decision-making, Joan helps them get ready to leave. She wiggles her way into the cabinet with the first-aid kit and pulls out bandaids. She leaves them inside Steve’s cleats. He says thank you when he finds them.

Ozzy huffs from where he’s laying in his dog bed.

Joan purrs when Steve pets her head.

Since Eddie disappeared down into his studio the moment Steve agreed to let her come, Joan continues ‘helping Steve.’ Mainly, she cleans up (eats) all the scraps of lunchmeat he drops when making sandwiches for him, Eddie, Robin, and Nancy.

Eddie immerges from the studio ten minutes before they’re supposed to leave with a hastily sewed shirt made for a cat. It’s made out of the soft material of the cheer squad t-shirts he made for the other team members’ partners. He presents it first to Steve and then holds it out to Joan like, “Ta-dah.”

Joan sniffs the fabric – it smells like Eddie – and Steve is just like, “Why did you make that?”

“Because Joan’s got to represent, Stevie. We’re a jock family now and jocks wear their team colors,” Eddie insists, grin getting bigger when Steve rolls his eyes at him. “Everybody else is wearing team colors. Even Ozzy. See.”

He gestures to the pin attached to his yellow service dog vest that says ‘#1 Steve Harrington Defender.’ It’s right next to a patch that says ‘If You Pet Me, You Are A Part Of The Problem’ which is… “That’s new.”

“Yeah, I’m solving all the world’s problems today, baby,” He grins. “Isn’t that right, Joan?”

She hisses at the shirt.

#Its always fun to write from Joan’s perspective #also I just love the idea of Ozzy being annoyed by Steve thinking her for helping when she’s not actually helping. He helps. All the time.#Joan’s just like: it’s fine if you go out but you better have enough energy to play with me when you come back #eddie munson tiktok saga #steve harrington #eddie munson #Joan the disservice cat #Ozzy the service dog

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pitty-me · 3 months

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Schroedinger's cat is silly because a cat would meow, scrach, and bite its way out of the box. So if you didn't hear it, it'd be dead, and if you did hear it or see a hole in the box, it'd be alive. But Schroedinger's fish would be quiet and make more sense. Anyway, that's what I think about that. Thanks, that's all.

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theloveinc · 1 year

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Barbarian!Bakugo is a little bit… obsessed with lactation.

No, it’s not a new concept to him—he’s seen mothers feeding their children before, in fact, hardly ever put a thought to it.

But now that it’s you, now that it’s his child… it’s interesting to him. Beyond interesting, really. That someone he loves and desires so carnally can provide an almost irreplaceable service, one he is incapable of replicating despite how much he wants to provide for the both of you.

And he’d want to be present for most feedings anyway, both to bond and help ease the parenting load off your shoulders… but the whole time, he can’t take his eyes off your chest, where the little one is latched so safely and happy, suckling away as he stares in a protective haze, in awe. Blinking when baby blinks, wincing when you wince, his hands balling into fists when you sigh and the soft fat of your bosom jiggles.

He’s shy, though. Shy to admit his fascination despite how he asks to touch you one night, after the babe has been fed, swaddled and put to rest, and then rubs his fingers so gently against your nipple it starts to leak.

Bakugo looks at you under thick lashes, no blush because he’s seen you naked endless times, was there for the birth, but hesitant, almost… to do more than feel your raw areola underneath the rough pads of his fingertips. Even if, no sooner, does he put a thumb into his mouth to taste the few, silken drops of milk that escaped onto his skin.

Baby always eats first, of course, until plump and sleepy… but after that first touch, barbarian!Bakugo is no longer above licking up what’s left for him until your tits are relaxed and soft, then massaging you til there’s milk in abundance once more.

#bakugo #bakugou x reader #I wrote something similar to this before but I didn’t actually write the #toddy s*cking #but I also can’t really remember what I said #and also this isn’t very descriptive #so 🤷🏼‍♀️🤷🏼‍♀️🤷🏼‍♀️#anyway it just makes me laugh to think of this big honking beast of a man to be staring at u all dumbfounded/concentrated #when ur nursing his kid #I wish there were emojis to describe the face I’m imagining 😐😲😠 combined #but he’s just so… intriqued #even if he knew that’s how it worked it’s like #that’s my wife……… my baby mama……#😳#esp cuz he’s always hunting he’s upset he can’t do more to help feed babba except keep u company #he’s so used to doing more #stick him with loin cloth duty LMDAOOOO KIDDING #anyway ugh have a brand new phone charger that keeps doing the unpluggy thing #might need to get that fixed #also my cat just took a fat sh*t and I can smell it #LOL I’m so tired #hope this was … tolerable!!!#caitie post #tw:lactation #fem reader #kids tw

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teecupangel · 3 months

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Altaïr: Wait, When did I get a cult?

Malik: Better question- where’d you get the kittens?!

Desmond: More important question- Why are we in Renaissance Italy!!

Ezio: ???

When Desmond accepted his death, he expected to die.

Did he believe in the afterlife?

Not really.

The Farm had never been religious and all those lessons about how the Templars used religion only served to make Desmond ignore it altogether.

Not because he was appalled by the Templars’ ways or because he didn’t believe in a higher being or something deep like that.

No.

He avoided religion because it was boring.

To be more exact, after hearing the same lessons about the connection of the Templars to religion, it became boring.

Just another reminder of his life on the Farm.

So no.

Desmond never thought about the afterlife.

He always assumed he would die and that would be it.

Kaput.

End of story.

Whatever disappointing story he had, anyway.

It might have been disappointing for someone like William Miles but it was a nice one for Desmond. His life in New York felt like a dream. It wasn’t always a happy dream but it was…

Nice.

It felt real.

He felt real.

So when he woke up in one of the Assassin Tombs in Italy, Desmond knew he was alive.

He felt real.

He had to alive.

Then he heard two more people slowly get up and Desmond wondered if this was the afterlife.

Why else would Altaïr Ibn-La'Ahad and Malik Al-Sayf be waking up in the same place as him.

When he learned that they were in Renaissance Italy, his first thoughts had been about Ezio. He wanted to find him. He wanted to see him. To make sure he was okay.

He had woken up too late though. The same day as the execution of his father and brothers… in Venice of all places.

He could, theoretically, go to Monteriggioni and meet with Ezio there but… Altaïr and Malik weren’t fit to travel. Something was ‘strange’ about their body, like they weren’t use to it. And it wasn’t just because they had their left ring finger. Malik admitted he could feel the pain of losing his arm over and over again. Altaïr’s body would give up after a few minutes and he seemed to be moving through sheer willpower (or stubbornness… both, it was always both with him) so their priority was to find a secure hideout that wasn’t a tomb.

It took an entire day for Desmond to get enough funds to buy them a small house in Venice and a change of clothes (pretending to be a foreigner who wishes to learn from the great artists worked enough to make the tailor less suspicious… a bit). Desmond didn’t bother to hire any servants and focused on helping Altaïr and Malik get used to their new bodies.

They both remembered up to their deaths and that left countless scars inside them. Altaïr theorized that they need to get use to their new bodies because they had been used to their weakening old bodies. Their new bodies seemed to have been created with the idea of them in their prime.

Before the failure in the temple underneath Jerusalem…

By the time Ezio entered Venice, he had already heard about them. The strange three men who kept to themselves, assisting the thieves of Venice for a price.

Most of the time the price they ask for was information.

Sometimes, they would ask for an IOU, their way of saying the thieves owe them a favor. They mostly used those favors to get the thieves to distract certain guards or to be bait.

Ezio heard from Mario that he should make their acquaintances and greet them before doing any missions in Venice.

It was their turf after all.

He did not expect their home to be a warm one.

… with lots of cats.

Too many cats.

“Altaïr! Who is this?!”

Ezio stepped inside the open doorway that led to the inner courtyard where he heard the shouting. A man wearing simple white robes held a black cat by the armpits in his arms, glaring at another man who was sitting underneath the great tree in the middle of the courtyard. Four cats were sleeping around him and he was petting another cat that was curled on his lap absentmindedly.

“That one followed me yesterday. Ask Desmond what to name that one.” The man named Altaïr-

Wait.

Altaïr?

“Stop bringing more cats! We spend more for their food than we do for ours!”

“Hello?”

Ezio turned around to the sound of the voice behind him. He didn’t even notice him approaching Ezio from behind.

The man standing in front of him holding a small stack of books smiled at him as he said, “It’s nice to finally see you, Ezio.”

“My name Desmond Ibn-La'Ahad. Welcome to our bureau.”

#desmond altaïr and malik create a bureau by accident #the cats follow altaïr whenever he takes a walk #or stalks the rooftops #or help desmond with the grocery #anytime altaïr goes outside #cats follow him #desmond names the cats with names of people he knew #ask and answer #assassin's creed #desmond miles #altaïr ibn la'ahad #ezio auditore #malik al sayf #teecup writes/has a plot #fic idea: assassin's creed

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coyoteclan · 2 months

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Big TW for pet loss

Hey, clangen tumblr and those who just enjoy the silly cats on this blog. I know it's been a little bit of time since my last update, but unfortunately during the past few months, I have been caring for my closest friend, Comet.

She's been my best friend for 15 whole years, and on February 9th of 2024, I'm sad to say that she has passed. I won't lie when I say that this is one of the hardest posts I've ever made, but I want to continue this blog in her honor. Normally, I have a terrible habit of just letting projects like this slip by me and gather dust; however Comet was meant to play an integral part within the blog to immortalize her, and I refuse to let something meant just for her to go to waste.

I want to thank you all first of all for being such an amazing community. I've genuinely had so much joy come of this blog, and it pains me that I let it go stagnant for as long as I have. There are 568 of you now, which is so extremely wild to me; but I hope that from now on, you can all love Comet as much as I did, even if as a memory.

I hope to return to posting content both here and on my main, @mxssacre , but for now I still need time to grieve and come to terms with the loss of someone that was so incredibly intertwined with everything I've done since I was 9 years old.

Thank you for everything Comet, my heart, my soul, my love.

More of my favorite photos of her beneath the cut.

It's hard to choose favorites out of the thousands of photos I've taken of her over the years, but I hope these do her justice to show what an amazing being she was. I hope you're hunting your toy mice in the stars, Comet.

#Yeah this is a not so great post I'm sorry #I won't lie to y'all I've been sobbing my eyes out for the past week but it's helping me come to terms to write about her #I wanted to draw something for her in order to post this but ngl I just can't right now #I will be okay for the record. it's just an extremely difficult adjustment for me and I really do love this community #Seriously though. I've seen the hundreds of notifications I get from this blog weekly. I cannot thank you enough for the love I've felt #tw animal death #tw pet death #tw pet loss #I'm not sure exactly how to tag this but I hope the warning at the beginning helps #I literally finished writing a memorial for her before writing this post so clearly I'm a little in my feels lmao #I tried finding some of her sillier photos to add but there are so many. I might post more on my main later when I try figuring out-#-my memorial tattoo #hug your cats extra tight for me ❤

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melatonindiscord · 5 months

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#mental health #mental illness #cats #positivity #studying #self help #self care #healthy #motivation #inspiration #quotes #quoteoftheday #writing

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chaoswarfare · 1 year

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dp x dc prompt #18

Newly formed ghost Jason Todd as Alice in Wonderland(the ghost zone). Danny is wandering the ghost zone in his human form and running late for something, and Jason chases the only normal looking person through the ghost zone in an effort to escape and go home. Danny(Phantom) is the cheshire smiled ghost watching over and observing this new baby ghost that seems intent on following him outside the zone.

Jason has no idea where he is. The overgrown oddly colored plants and inhuman locals all point to this definitely not being home. He’s not even sure he’s on the same plane of reality! A cheery but frantic whistle greets his ears as he rests after his latest escape from an angry local, and Jason looks around just in time to see a human teenager a few years older than him sprint along the forest trail, just far enough from his hiding spot for it to stay hidden. that must be his ticket out of this madhouse. If he can follow the guy out of here and to a proper civilization, he can figure out how to get home from there!

He doesn’t notice the ghost lounging in the trees above his head as he sets off, too intent on his goal to notice the eerie smile stretching impossibly wide across it’s face.

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peterparkerr06 · 2 years

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Algae is underrated

For more such memes , click here

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graceofagodswrath · 2 years

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Humans Are Feral: Part 2

Wow, I did not expect that last post to be received so well, and so fast. Thanks so much to all those who left awesome comments, reblogs and notes. And since it was received so well, I decided to go ahead and write the part two I’ve been thinking about since part one.

So, humans can vicious and absolutely feral at times. Our society often criticizes such behavior, referring to it as “acting like an animal.” And don’t get me started on how humans love to make themselves seem important by separating ourselves from the rest of the animal kingdom whether from religious belief or simple egotism. But our animal instincts are still a part of us, even though they have been suppressed through hundreds of years of societal evolution. The biggest example of these primal instincts is the fight or flight response. This is one we commonly experience in day to day situations, however small they may seem. From situations like: being in a crowded room and feeling the urge to run because of overwhelming social anxiety. Or being at the in-laws and they make a rude comment, and you just want to snap back or run out of the house. But you suppress those feelings in order to appear “civilized/normal.” Just some tidbits on human psychology I think about a lot.

But that thing that I mostly think about is how we react in extremely stressful and dangerous situations. One’s in which we perceive are life-threatening. I have been put in a situation where I was nearly fighting for my life, and I remember the wildness I felt. There were no verbal thoughts in my head, nothing I remember being normal. All I could feel was this kind of fear-rage in which I was scared as hell, but also angry because I was scared. I remember the adrenaline and the realization that if I was going to die, I was going to fight with everything I had. Which, looking back, seems kind of strange. Many animals often give up if they realize they’re going to die. But humans don’t. Any kind of hope, any kind of need to fight and survive is all we need to keep going. We rarely just give up.

Imagine:

A ship of imperial soldiers of the Fiuldarian Empire had sighted the Star Chaser. All crew had done their best to push the ship to her point, trying to outrun the imperial flagship. But it was no use. Within a few ticks they had been flown down and anchored. But the soldiers never boarded, which scared Captain Din:ai. She stood in the control room before her holoscreens, staring with fear-blown eyes. The imperial ship never sent a communications, nor did it fire any weapons. She had no idea what was going to happen.

Until something did happen.

From the comm, Equaloi’s high-pitched screams shattered the tense silence. The feathered Unaga’o cried out something in their native tongue before a wet gargle cut his voice. His comm cut off, but not before a strange clicking and growl were heard. All in the room stood still, antenna, fur, and scaly plates twitching with anticipation. All eyes stared up at the Captain, awaiting her orders. Or reassurance. Something. But the tall Diralo stood as still as her crew, three-fingered hands balled tightly.

The comm went off again, making several in the room jump. This time heavy breathing sounded. “I just found Equaloi and Fir’nad.” Alex Risach, the only human among Din:ai’s crew. They sounded unnervingly calm, but there was something off about their voice. “They’re not…alive. And they’re all over the place.” Din’ai drew in a sharp breath, her breathing cavities in her chest whistling lowly. Two dead. But not from soldiers.

Din:ai pressed the receiver. “What do you mean by ‘all over the place’?”

“I mean,” Alex said. “That they are in pieces. Torn apart.” Alex’s next sentence made Din:ai’s blood grow cold. “Imperial soldiers did not do this.” Din:ai remained silent, thinking desperately about what to do. Her long kallocks of experience did not prepare her for this situation. Because as much as she wished to deny it, the last few minutes made it clear what was going on. Something was aboard the Star Chaser. And it was extremely dangerous.

“Risach, listen to me. You must make your way to the control room. Any crew you find must follow these same instructions. Whatever is aboard is extremely dangerous, and must not be approached until we know what it is. Do you copy?” There was silence on the other side. Din:ai grew tenser with every quiet second. “Risach, do you copy?”

A click of the comm. And an alien screeching. Angry words could be heard in a human language, one Din:ai did not recognize as a common tongue. Then a feral scream, one that had the scales along Din:ai’s back arching in terror. Every crew member listened in rapt attention, all trying to imagine what was going on behind the sounds.

Then Alex’s voice screaming above the commotion.

“GET SHIT ON MOTHERFUCKER!” A howling squeal followed. A click as the comm turned off. Another click as it turned back on. “On my way to the control room. I recommend all weapons off safety and for everyone to take cover. This thing is mean and ugly as sin.” Their heavy breathing didn’t hide the deep gruffness in their voice. Din:ai pushed away the observation. She could worry about deciphering human language tones later.

She reached under her command center, grabbing the firearm she had hidden earlier. All other crew in the room followed suit. Din:ai pulled up a hole map of the ship, centering in on Alex’s orange-dotted life signal. And the life signal following them. The label above the beeping red dot read ‘unknown’. Both signals were closing in on the command room’s eastern doorway. The giant Diralo captain signaled to all crew present to aim their weapons at the door.

“Anything non-human coming through that door gets shot, understood?” Nods and chirps of agreement. The room became quiet once more, the atmosphere thick with fear-scent. Then sounds could be heard beyond the door. A strange clicking-screeching drowned out everything. Din:ai jerked when banging sounded on the other side of the door. Alex’s voice muffled through the walls.

“OPEN IT!” Din:ai shouted. Yugi, a derumo juvenile who was closest to the door, hit the controls beside it. The door slide upward, exposing the dim hallway and the blood-covered human behind it. Alex sprinted through, turning to aim their weapon at the open doorway.

Then the creature appeared. All recoiled at the sight. Alex spoke true. It was immensely ugly. It resembled a Terran arachnid, long spindly legs supporting a large, hulking body that stood just above Alex’s height. But that is where similarities ended. It was covered in black chitinous armor, spiked and sharp. A pair of spindly arms with elongated claws sat beneath its head. It’s head swayed low, its mouth shaped like a five pointed star shape, teeth covering every flesh surface. Beady black eyes stared from its skull, reflecting the light beaming down. It screeched and charged toward Alex. The crew opened fire.

The gunfire seemed to stop it for a moment before it grew confident again. Because the barrage of bullets and energy weapons barely dented its thick black armor. The clawed arms beneath its head rose to protect its eyes from the oncoming assault.

The gunfire began to lessen as ammo was lost, and the creature noticed. With its head shielded, it approached through the fire storm. That’s when a cloud of fire billowed over it. It screeched and fell back. Alex stalked forward, their weapon drawn against their shoulder, and let loose another bout of streaming flame. The creature retreated, it’s clicks an incessant stream of fearfulness.

“I am so glad I grabbed my flamethrower instead!” Alex shouted. Many of the crew realized their weapons were not effective against the creature, backing under their respective shelters beneath command boards.

Alex’s weapon sputtered and lost its flame. A curse under their breath and they scrambled to reload. But they weren’t fast enough. The creature sprang forward in the moment of weakness and latched its jaws around Alex’s leg. Alex screamed as the beast tore into flesh, red blood spattering on the white floors. It but down and began dragging Alex away, swinging and throwing them around. Alex screamed and cursed in their human tongue, beating at the creature’s head with their weapon.

The weaponless crew could only watch as their human crew mate battled a seemingly hopeless war. Some had run to the western doors, opening them and running away into the depths of the ship.

Din:ai was of the few that stayed, aiming a nearly empty energy gun at the armored beast. She was horrified watching as Alex was tossed about. But what more surprised her was the continued struggle on Alex’s part. They didn’t stop. They continued to beat down upon the creature’s head, screaming and kicking with their free leg at any exposed hide. Even as more blood was lost they fought back.

And Din:ai felt some of her courage, if not shame, return watching the small human fight. She aimed her gun, locking onto the beast’s one exposed weakness: it’s eyes. The black beady things were covered with it’s strange claws, shielding itself from the onslaught of Alex’s flamethrower. The creature was snarling as it dragged Alex, but Alex was snarling back. Din:ai, waiting for an opening, watched as Alex dug the flamethrower beneath the creatures contorted claws, letting go and tearing at it face with their own hands. Their fingers tore wildly, landing on the creatures jaws, trying to part the cage of flesh and teeth latched to their leg. Alex was able to tear away one of the creature’s jaw flaps and pulling with all their strength, ripped it off. Din:ai’s eyes widened. The creature screamed, and Alex screamed back.

The pain the creature was experiencing caused it to lose focus. It’s claws dropped, exposing its eyes. Din:ai took the shot. The wet, electrical sound of an energy discharge into flesh was heard. The creature stopped screaming. Instead it contorted and struggled. Alex was dropped, rolling away and clutching their leg. The creature continued its death throes for a moment more, then its legs curled together and it slumped to the ground, becoming still.

When Din:ai was sure the creature was dead, she crawled down to Alex. The human was clinging to their leg, clutching the horrific wound still leaking blood. Din:ai leaned over them tearing of her clothing covering her torso. She went to move Alex’s hands, but the deep growl the human made caused her to freeze. Din:ai had never heard such sounds come from humans, nor did she know they could do such things. They sounded as ugly as the creature’s. She stared down at Alex.

“Please remove your hands. We need to stifle the bleeding.” Alex stared up at her with large eyes, the white around the brown irises strangely animalistic. Scared and wild. Their chest was heaving, breath loud and raspy. They growled again, baring their teeth in a ugly grimace, then exhaling and letting their hands drop. Din:ai surveyed the wound before wrapping it. The beast had torn the flesh away from the bone, the off-white color unnatural underneath the red flesh. Bits of skin and meat hung from the wound, held together by the thinnest of muscle sinew. It was terrible.

Din:ai wrapped it, ignoring the red blood collecting on her hands. She instead focused on Alex’s wellbeing. “You are extraordinary.” She said. “I always wondered why you humans are held in such high regard. You should not be alive after that beast had you in its jaws.”

Alex snorted. “I’m from Australia.” They grunted, grimacing in pain. “I’ve seen bigger fuckers than that thing. Dealt with worse than that thing.”

Din:ai did not doubt her colleague’s words.

~~~~~~

Wow this was fun. This is the kind of stuff I like to write. Horror-thriller short stories with a little bit of badassery sprinkled in. Thank you again to everyone who bombarded my phone with notifications about how liked my first post was. That was wild. Brought me back to my Wattpad days. If anyone has any suggestions for future story prompts, I may or may not use it. I love writing about how humans can be stupid badasses, it brings in the serotonin. This blog might even become more sci-fi short stories with “humans are space orcs/Australians/insane” prompts. Dunno. lets see what happens.

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scclangen · 1 month

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moon 16 1/2 Cliffrun can't, in fact, rest

You now have (partially) cliffrun lore + the fact that 2 of the clans are called Caribouclan and Mynaclan so do with your thinking what you will (or ask him)

#clangen #warrior cats oc #wc oc #warrior cats #clan gen oc #warrior cats clangen #warriors oc #clan generator #clan gen game #Stormycliffsclangen #Stormycmoons #send help i'm writing too much LORE and thinking too much about GEOGRAPHY for a simple clangen blog

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rightwriter · 6 months

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youtube

This is THE video for anyone looking for a comprehensive and thorough way to outline your book! Kat goes chapter by chapter with the beats you need to hit, and also gives an example from her own story, which really helps you understand! If you watch only one video from this blog, it should be this one! Reposting this because it's SO GOOD

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taizi · 7 months

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Could you write a sickfic type thing about Luffy where like the marines or someone uses kairouseki against him in a way that just wipes him out for a while Nd the crew looks after him??? much love <3

Sea stone bullets are a cause for concern, but not as much of one as a person might think. Nami’s captain has always been unsettlingly perceptive when it suits him, since well before any of them had any idea what observation haki was. He knows when a bullet is coming that he can’t bounce away.

It doesn’t do him any good to know sometimes, though. Not when he disregards the warning of danger on purpose.

And there was really nothing else he could have done in this case, Nami is reluctant to admit even to herself, because if he had dodged, Chopper would have been shot in the back of the head. Luffy had, to his credit, thought to deflect the tiny missile with armament, but it only caused the glass casing to shatter and the substance inside to spill free. A few drops against his skin was all it took.

He dropped like a stone.

Usopp lunged in at the last second and caught him before he hit the deck. But then they all had to watch Luffy’s head loll, limp and unresisting. It was horrifying. It happened so fast. Despite everything Nami had seen up to this point, she had never been more afraid than in that moment.

“What is that?” Zoro bites out, an arm spread to the side to keep his nakama from getting too close to the spill.

It shimmered eerily in the late afternoon light, the sky overcast but still just bright enough for Robin to grow an expendable hand near the mess and pinch a bit of it in the corner of the picnic blanket they had all been lounging on all of ten minutes ago. She ground it between her fingers, protected by the blanket, to feel the texture. Within moments, understanding touched her face.

“Infused with sea stone,” she said.

Chopper squirmed between his nakama’s bigger bodies, shouting, “Take him to the infirmary!”

Usopp was off like a shot, Luffy in his arms, Chopper right on his heels. Sanji joined Robin and Zoro at the starboard side of the ship, staring out at the remaining warships with the same look of murder in their eyes. Franky was already at the helm, and Sunny was turning in the water to face the Marines; the cannon mouth hidden in the figurehead opening to rain destruction. Brook was laughing, high-pitched and chilling, in a way that surely carried across the distance between themselves and the unlucky bastards who thought a cheap ambush would be enough to net the Straw Hats’ collective bounty.

“A squall is coming,” Nami said, feeling the shift of the weather in her bones. “Destroy the ships but leave the soldiers alive. They’re so eager to play with sea stone—let’s give them a taste of how it feels to drown.”

“Fitting,” Jimbei rumbled. He was the most honorable person Nami had ever met, but just like the rest of them, all bets were off and morals thrown aside when it came to anyone who would try to rip Luffy away.

By the time revenge had been swiftly doled out, and Brook’s violin easily covered the sounds of the Marines in the water, Usopp reappeared on the deck to say, “He’s okay.”

Nami’s heart still didn’t settle, not until she had bullied her way into the infirmary, planted herself on the side of the bed, and held her captain’s face in her hands to see for herself.

“He’ll sleep for awhile, probably,” Chopper said. “Until that compound works its way through his system. There isn’t a counter-agent for sea stone—” yet, the glint in his eye suggests “—but it only weakens Fruit users, it doesn’t kill them outright. If it were a bullet lodged in his body, maybe ultimately it would fester and poison him, but this is just a trace. It’s like, um…like a sedative!”

“Maybe we should keep some on hand for when he’s being annoying,” Sanji said dispassionately, as if his hands weren’t trembling around the cigarette he was trying to light.

Someone nudged Nami’s shoulder. She glanced up, and Zoro said, “Storm.”

“Right,” Nami remembered. “We need to get Sunny prepared.”

She was reluctant to leave Luffy, but he trusted her to lead them safely through troubled waters, so that much she had to do. Brushing her thumb over the scar under his eye, she eased her hands away then stood up and started barking orders.

It took some effort, but Sunny danced through the wind and rain like it was all play, and hours later they came out the other side unscathed. There was a small island ahead of them, a crescent moon curve of pink sand and tropical flowers and a dilapidated, long-forgotten pier. The New World being what it was, Nami didn’t trust the peaceful picture for a goddamn second, but it would be a convenient place to moor for the time being.

Besides, Luffy would whine if they started an adventure without him.

He missed dinner and slept through the night. Sanji is prickly and short-tempered at breakfast the next morning, crafting fluffy omelets and frying potatoes and chainsmoking angrily out the window. But his entire attitude shifts when familiar voices outside bicker their way toward the dining hall, and the galley door bursts open to reveal a wobbly-looking Luffy, an irritated Chopper, and Brook, who continues serenading their journey with a tiny ukulele.

“SANJI!” Luffy calls across the room. “Feed me or I’ll die right now!”

“No you’ll die ‘cause I killed you for leaving before I said you could!” Chopper snaps.

“He’s already here,” Sanji says, across the room in seconds and frogmarching his captain to a seat at the table. “Might as well eat.”

“Lu, how are you feeling?” Usopp demands, leaning across the table eagerly and nearly sticking his elbow in the butter dish. “You look like shit.”

“Mean!” Luffy says.

“Accurate,” Nami butts in. She takes him by the chin, turning his face towards her. His brown skin has an unhealthy pallor, lethargy clinging to him despite his animated good cheer. He looks like any other flu-ridden teenager. As she studies him, he wrinkles his nose and sticks his tongue out. “Brat,” she scolds without heat, releasing him.

It’s such a relief just to have him at the breakfast table. Franky starts in on a wild story about the storm Luffy missed, and Robin discreetly pushes the platter of brown sugar glazed ham closer to his plate. The morning sun, pouring through the window, suddenly seems warmer and brighter than it did moments ago.

Still, Chopper is right. Luffy, force of nature that he is, starts to flag almost immediately following the meal. The burst of energy deserts him quietly. Nami only notices by chance, on her way toward the garden with Usopp. She casts her gaze out over the deck as she crosses it, and pauses mid-step.

Zoro is sitting back against the side of the ship the way he always does when he’s trying to catch a few extra minutes of rest, the brim of a worn straw hat tipped over his face to shade it from the sun. Nothing about that stands out.

But his strong arms are curled comfortably around Luffy, who naps sprawled against his first mate like a clumsily-thrown blanket, slack face pillowed on Zoro’s shoulder.

“Luffy’s sleeping?” Usopp says, a bit too loud in his shock. “He just woke up.”

“Chopper did say it would be a few days before that shit was out of his system,” Franky pipes up. “Poor bro must really be feeling it.”

“I told him to stay in bed,” Chopper gripes irritably. By now most of the crew has gathered, a combination of mirth, curiosity and lingering concern preoccupying their thoughts, and Nami watches Chopper cross the grassy deck and tug lightly on Zoro’s sleeve. “Hey, hey. Will you take him to the infirmary, please?”

Zoro opens his eye, a sharper gray than any blade, but never cutting when he looks at his family. After a second, he closes it again.

“Nah.”

Zoro may be a shithead at times to Sanji and Nami and Franky and—okay, most people—but all of his younger crewmates tend to get an automatic pass. Nami honestly can’t think of a time he looked at Chopper and said “nah” about anything that didn’t involve his own health. From the baffled look on Chopper’s face, neither can he.

“Huh?? Why not?”

“We’re sleeping.”

“And he can sleep in the medbay!” Chopper insists.

Zoro scoffs and moves his captain closer.

“Go get your own.”

Chopper gapes wordlessly. All the rest of Nami’s nakama have a similar expression on their faces, something between stupefied and offended—save Robin, who presses a secret smile behind her hand, and Jimbei, whose rumbling chuckle is just barely audible over the sound of the sea.

Nami—who knows very well what Zoro looks like when he’s trying to get a rise out of someone, who knows very well that she has a claim on Luffy that only a handful of other people in the world share, one that can never be broken or stolen or changed—feels herself bristle, too.

“HE IS OUR OWN!” the majority of one of the most infamous pirate crews in the New World shriek like schoolchildren.

Luffy’s eyes drift open in the chaos that follows, squinting through the haze until he can bring the faces of his nakama into focus. They’re all so lively, shouting and arguing about something, their ship the brightest, busiest thing under the whole sky. The sun touches his skin, warm and laughing, like it’s trying to tell him a joke.

It’s so comfy. Soon he’ll get up and shout with them, and eat some more, and fish and play and plot a new adventure. But first he’ll dream a little while longer. He knows his friends won’t mind.

#one piece #opfic #cat burglar nami #monkey d luffy #roronoa zoro #nakamaship #my writing #prompt #anonymous #op #this was so cute and fun to write #i love sickfic and i have a deep compassion and sympathy for chopper #whose job is to doctor the most insane and stubborn people in the entire world #if u see any mistakes no u didnt #im on a time crunch :')#& i normally dont like to write pov shifts like this but i couldnt help it this time

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