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tragedy-for-sale · 2 months

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Bedrock Headcannons: Obi-Wan Kenobi

Bedrock headcannons are headcannons that I regard as a fact in the personality of a character I write about. They range from small details to a huge part of a character's backstory. These headcannons are a constant underlayer in all of my fics that involve these characters.

﹄『❝ Obi-Wan ❞』﹃

He cut his hair shortly after the war begun because Anakin made a comment he looked like Qui-Gon and Obi-Wan couldn't handle it.

Obi-Wan is very quiet and not just in the sense of him not talking a whole lot. But his steps, the swoosh of his robe, the smile in his eyes. He moves with grace which results in many people being taken off guard when he's in the room, as if he just appears. But he's also quiet in the way that you'd never know he was crying if you couldn't see his face, quiet in the way of showing love through always having snacks on him for Anakin, Ahsoka or any of his men. Whoever asks him first. He's quiet in pain and agony, in love and passion.

Obi-Wan feels extremely bittersweet about Dooku. He remembered how highly Qui-Gon regarded him, how they'd go catch up at a diner and how Obi-Wan always begged to go. He never knew the Dooku that Qui-Gon did and Obi-Wan has a hard time understanding how his master was trained by someone so vile. Everytime he faces the Count, he remembers Qui-Gon, and he remembers how much his master cared for this man that is trying to kill him.

He loves Coruscant in the rain. When he was younger, Qui-Gon would take him up to the roof of the temple and they'd talk until they could see stars. But if it was raining, they'd be outside splashing each other until they were soaked.

He doesn't go up there as often anymore, but the first year after Qui-Gon's death, Obi-Wan was missing all day. It was Quinlan Vos who found him, he was the only person still alive that knew about his hiding place.

Obi-Wan's 18th birthday was spent out on the streets of Coruscant. He snuck out with Quinlan Vos and Kit Fisto. The three ran into trouble and at the stroke of midnight, Obi-Wan was in tears, desperately hoping his friends would find him.

He was sent to Mandalore with Qui-Gon soon after.

Obi-Wan will go get tea with Padme when Anakin is still out in space. He doesn't say he checks on Padme to Anakin, but he'll say he caught Padme and they chatted for a while and that she's doing well.

During down time, he wears heavy robes because Obi-Wan is cold all the time. Especially when on the Negotiatior. If he's able, he'll always go sit in the sun, feeling the warmth on his face.

As the war progresses, the toll of it starts to affect him more and more. He starts to feel things more deeply then he ever had and he finds himself drowning constantly. Fear he's never known paralyzes him and he can't talk to anyone because there's nothing anyone can do. He's going to drown and he can see all the people he loves playing in the water not noticing he's been swept up by the tide.

Dex's Diner has been Obi-Wan's place for years, he brings only the most important people in his life there. Dex basically watched Obi-Wan grow up, he knows his favorite book, his deepest pain and insecurities, and how many times he's fallen in love.

Obi-Wan takes Cody anytime they're on Coruscant for leave. One night, it was late and after close, but it was in that little worn down diner that Obi-Wan and Cody celebrated their marriage, slow dancing to whatever jukebox tune was playing and holding each other tight.

After Order 66 happens, Cody feels drawn to the diner, he sits there for hours. Dex knows better to assume the identity of this helmeted man, but he always sits in Obi-Wan's booth and watches the door, expecting the love of his life to walk right in and apologize for being late. But Obi-Wan never comes, and there is never an apology.

﹄『❝ Obi-Wan ❞』﹃

#Obi-Wan is probably one of my favorite characters to write #choosing what headcannons I think the most important was super hard #obi wan kenobi #anakin skywalker #commander cody #ahsoka tano #star wars #clone wars #the clone wars #sw #codywan #Bedrock Headcannons

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huramuna · 4 months

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a maid's folly - chapter 8.

dark aemond x maid ofc

minor aemond x floris baratheon work is 18+, minors do not interact, lest ye be smited.

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summary: a new maid from the Vale arrives at the Red Keep during a tumultuous time and becomes ensnared in the One-Eyed prince's web.

we're in the home stretch y'all! after this is the epilogue and then this story will be at an end! thank you for sticking with me through my second fic ever and my (hopefully) first completed one.

this chapter may seem a bit rushed in places but i promise its for a reason! aemond going through the grief of losing rosemary and it is taking a huge toll on him to a point where he really isn't living, but rather, living his life through snapshots. i hope i exemplified that correctly!

word count: 2.7k

warnings: smut, power imbalance, religious guilt, dark Aemond, canon typical misogyny, canon typical violence, Aemond being a touch starved weirdo, possessiveness, jealousy, this is going to be ANGSTY

(don't fear) the reaper - blue oyster cult • its been so long - the living tombstone

Death was an odd thing for Aemond. He’d never experienced it really, not in any capacity specific to him.

The death of Laena Velaryon changed his life in many ways, technically, but the idea of her death, her corpse floating to the bottom of the sea to become fish food didn’t stir any emotions within him.

But now— that feeling… It was odd.

“Brother, there’s been an accident,” Helaena had said.

The next words that came from her mouth were garbled as his ears rang, a high pitched throbbing echoing through his skull. He must’ve said something alarming, as Helaena, who usually didn’t wish to touch or be touched, wrapped her arms around him as his legs failed, wobbling like a newborn fawn’s.

He didn’t really hear much of the substance of what Helaena said– there was no way around it: Rosemary was dead. She was… dead? Dead.

“Her… body? Her belongings?” he muttered, his one eye glassed over in a wet film of tears. Gods, when was the last time he cried?

“Burned. They found her… charred near flea bottom. She’s gone to the field– away from the rats and stags…”

“Flea bottom? W– what was she doing there?” Rats and stags?

Helaena shook her head.

“I want her things– all of them. Have them brought to my chambers.” he grunted, unlatching himself from Helaena’s hold and beginning to pace. He looked over, seeing her discarded nightgown and swiftly picked it up.

The servants gave odd looks once all of Rosemary’s things were cleared out of her chambers and brought to Aemond. They looked at him knowingly– but he couldn’t care. The opinions of sheep meant nothing to a dragon.

His chest clenched as he thumbed over a blue blanket, Rosemary’s ever familiar scent entangled into the fibers of the quilt. Aemond didn’t know much about Rosemary’s mother and only scarce details she shared about the Vale, but something about the blanket resonated within him. Sitting near the dying light of the sun as it receded over the horizon, he traced the stitches outlining the depictions of little lambs and nightingales, flitting near the moon and stars, braided into an image that felt so very much like her.

He expected her to slip through the passageway any moment now, murmuring apologies about her lateness and throwing herself into his open arms, peppering kisses along his skin–

She couldn’t just be dead, could she? They were plaited within one another’s being, he hadn’t asked her for a dance at a ball, nor taught her how to properly wield a blade– he didn’t even have the chance to introduce her to Vhagar, to take her flying. Aemond imagined her face, lips parted in awe as they would skim the stars above the clouds.

He wanted to share all of it with her, share more parts of him that he thought were recused so dreadfully far into the depths of his chest– he wanted to know her better. He should’ve gotten to know her more, know every freckle and stretch mark on her body and be able to map them without eyes, able to discern what she was thinking just by the wrinkle of her nose.

He just needed more time– more time with her, to know her more. It was already such a beautiful thing to be so intimate with someone like they had been, but there was a block. A small barrier that kept them from being linked wholly and irrevocably.

Not the sort of walls Aemond had within himself, no– those were self-imposed, defense mechanisms against further toil to his psyche, erected ever since Driftmark. Rosemary had a barrier that wasn’t of her own volition, but rather circumstances that she was dragged into. He placed her quilt onto his bed for the time being, eye roving around the room in thought.

His eye landed on a vase near the corner of the room. It was filled with wilting, ugly, yellow flowers. They had been bright and sprightly just days before, shoved into his hands by his wife-to-be. Not his Rosemary, of course– Floris.

Floris.

Brow furrowed, he walked to the flowers, plucking one of the petals and snapping it between his fingers. It left an ugly, powdery yellow-brown residue.

The barrier revealed itself.

–

Floris was sitting in her solar, feeling elated. The wedding was coming up soon and everything seemed to be perfectly aligned– not more bumps, hitches or maid-shaped indiscretions.

She leaned back in her chair relaxing for a mere moment before the door flew open, causing her to jump. Her eye caught a flash of white before he was in front of her, kneeled down, clenched fists on either side of her chair.

Aemond, her betrothed. His hair was a mess, his one violet eye wild.

“Hello, my betrothed,” he hummed. Heat broiled off of him like a roaring fire, the veins in his neck popping, his vessels running through his calloused hands thrumming. “I’d love to have a chat with you.”

Floris backed up on her chair, her throat going dry. “A-Aemond– this is highly irregular,” she stammered, her tongue feeling heavy and thick in her mouth. “What… would you like to chat about?”

He shoved back off of the chair, sending it and Floris skidding backwards. “I’ve heard that my poor sister’s handmaiden, she was so beloved by Helaena, has passed,” he began to pace, his arms behind his back, fists clenching and unclenching with barely contained rage, “That is quite sad, isn’t it?”

“Y-yes, quite.” Floris whispered, her gaze going to her hands.

“Look at me.” he stopped his pacing, his one eye trained on Floris as she avoided his sight.

“... Aemond– you must… understand,” she continued, “... please.”

“Look. At. Me.” he was upon her again, standing this time, like a foreboding cloud. He just needed to look into her eyes and he would know– no need for a trial, no need for a jury or judge. Merely an executioner.

Her head raised, blue eyes meeting his one violet. They were rimmed with tears, her pupils looking like maddened slits. “I-I had to!”

It was all the confirmation he needed. His hand slammed forward, a dagger sinking into the velvet of the chair backing, just an inch from Floris’ head. “Tell me what you’ve done.”

“It… it wasn’t me– not… not all of it, truthfully,” she admitted, her voice marred with choked sobs.

“You’re pathetic,” he spat, “Tell me, who was the intelligence in your little scheme, since it obviously wasn’t you– you don’t have the gall.”

Floris’ throat bobbed as she cried, “T-That horrible man– L-Larys Strong. B-but, I didn’t… I didn’t kill Rosemary– I just… wished to scare her away. If she’s dead– it was his doing!”

Aemond stared at her for a long moment, unblinking. “You will leave, Floris. You will leave the keep and go back to your father, tail tucked between your legs. Remember this, I am merciful in this only, consider yourself more lucky than Larys,” he backed up, dislodging the blade from the chair, lifting up Floris’ sobbing face by the chin with the point of it, “You will leave and speak nothing of this– if I ever even hear a whiff of her name coming from your mouth, I will kill you. I won’t grant you such a kindness of life again,” he nicked the soft skin of her chin, small drops of blood beading. He stowed his dagger and walked towards the door, “Consider this betrothal dissolved.”

–

The Keep was bustling with activity for the week after Floris’ sudden departure – rumors swirled of her getting cold feet, her integrity as an intact maiden coming into question, and that she was fraternizing with Larys Strong.

Larys, having caught wind of this, had some foresight that his nefarious doings had been uncovered. He returned to Harrenhal, effectively escaping Aemond’s retribution. Aemond was a bit agitated at the rat slipping through his fingers– but there was always time. Harrenhal was only a dragon’s ride away, he would get his soon enough.

It all felt like a blur to Aemond, the tumultuous months after Rosemary’s death. Rhaenyra’s arrival, the trial, the execution of Vaemond by Daemon, the dinner, the toast– his father’s death, his brother’s crowning. Helaena woke up screaming many nights, demanding that the tunnels be guarded more sufficiently and she didn’t go anywhere without an escort– it was obvious to Aemond that she’d seen something that frightened her deeply.

Aemond was to be an envoy for his brother’s cause– or moreso, his grandsire’s. Anyone with eyes could see that Aegon didn’t wish to be King, nor was fit for it. Flying to Storm’s End– he wished that his grandsire would’ve sent someone else instead. He had already disgraced himself to Borros Baratheon, and had no desire to see Floris again.

It was raining, as was typical of the Stormlands. Vhagar growled uneasily underneath Aemond. “Umbagon gīda, uēpa riña,” he murmured, reaching up to pat her scales. Keep calm, old girl. “Nyke ȳdra daor jaelagon naejot sagon kesīr, tolī.” I don’t want to be here, either.

He landed outside of the ramparts, quickly seeing why Vhagar had been agitated. A small, adolescent dragon was fidgeting anxiously in the courtyard leading up to the castle. He didn’t recognize it, but guessed it was likely one of Rhaenyra’s brood.

Stepping into the building, he saw him. Little Lucerys Strong– or Velaryon, if he was to be proper.

“Prince Aemond,” Borros, the damnable oaf he was, shouted, “I assume you have come to ask for my banners for your brother, have you? Seems that Prince Lucerys has beat you to the punch, I’m afraid.”

“Ah, did he now?” Aemond hummed, his arms behind his back as he glared at Lucerys– who was no older than sixteen, “May I remind you that it ‘twas my brother, Aegon, who was crowned before the masses in the Dragonpit? My brother, the King Aegon, who wears the conqueror’s crown, bears his name and wields our ancestral blade Blackfyre?”

Borros grunted. “That is all well and fine– but what is House Baratheon to do with Valyrian names and titles and swords? I can’t very well pick my teeth with Blackfyre, now can I? What do you have to offer to me? I suggest you speak quickly, as you’ve already disgraced my house once by sullying my daughter’s reputation.”

Anger seethed within Aemond, his fist clenching and unclenching. “We have my brother, Daeron, to offer as an option for betrothal to one of your daughters.”

Lucerys shifted uneasily next to Borros, his hands fiddling with a piece of parchment.

“Lucerys has already offered himself and his brother, Jacaerys, to marry two of my daughters. Your brother, Daeron, is no older than fourteen. One of my daughters could marry Jacaerys within a fortnight– even if Daeron was older, how am I supposed to know that your side of the family won’t spurn us once again?”

Fucking hell.

He felt shamed by the boar Borros– all the while, Lucerys couldn’t help but to stifle a chuckle. Just as he did at that damnable dinner. He felt his blood boiling and he had to stifle the urge to mount Vhagar and burn this castle to the ground.

The next hour was a blur. He remembers mounting Vhagar after Lucerys mounted his little whelpling– he remembers… the storm, the droplets feeling like shards of ice against his skin. His heart was beating in his ears, his taunts in High Valyrian to the boy prince sounding like echoes from someone else’s mouth. He felt like a puppet to his own savagery, the entire chase pulling from something animalistic and cruel within him, like the song of a swinging blade.

It was a sickening sound, truly. The sound of Vhagar’s jaw snapping that poor hatchling to pieces, little Lord Strong scattered over the bay. It was a sound Aemond wouldn’t forget.

He had to imagine that Rosemary was ashamed of him, wherever she was in the afterlife, if there at all.

–

Aemond had become a shell of himself, two years of the war passing by like granules of sand filling an hourglass. The humanity of him recused back behind those walls once more, his body working through the autonomy of the primal fire that coursed through him.

He didn’t feel alive.

He wasn’t, really.

Quite a few assassination attempts on the Red Keep were thwarted from Helaena’s plea for increased security. Guilt swirled in Aemond’s gut– it was repercussion. Punishment for what he’d done, what Vhagar had done.

He went into a self-imposed exile to Harrenhal, citing it as a military strategy to hold the fortress– but in reality, he felt he was a dead man walking. He may as well add the ghosts and curses of the ancient stronghold to his list of crimes.

The only moment of clarity he’d had was when he executed Larys. Aemond dragged the crippled man from his hiding hole in Harrenhal, and let Vhagar’s flame bathe him. It wasn’t a sizable meal for Vhagar, but satisfying nonetheless, for a moment– before he felt nothing once more.

The witch– Alys. She flitted around Aemond, whispering in his ear like a buzzing fly. He did lay with her, but would never spend inside of her. It felt like he was just going through the motions, trying to stoke a fire within himself that was long snuffed out. She didn’t feel anything like Rosemary– she was bony in all of the places where his Rosemary had been soft. After they would couple, he would send her away before she even had a chance to wipe herself off.

At night, he dreamed of her. Rosemary. Her warm hands cupping his face, murmuring sweetness to him, like a siren’s song, like the call of the void.

Then Daemon came upon his ugly bloodwyrm.

A duel, then.

“We’ve both lived too long, uncle.” he shouted, mounting Vhagar.

“On that, we agree. You’ve lived too long since you killed Lucerys in cold blood.”

“Mayhaps I will arrange a meeting for you two, then, uncle?”

It was a battle of gnashing teeth and flames, the glint of Dark Sister seen–

His death, he was staring it in the face. His death had a face, too– Rosemary. She whispered in his ear every night that they would soon be together. This must’ve been it, her ghost telling him of their reunion soon to come.

He opened his arms, welcoming his uncle’s thrust of his blade–

Darkness.

It was cold, cold… waves washing over him like he was bobbing across the surface of the lake.

Rosemary– where was she? Was he dead? Please, let him be dead. Let the nightmare be over.

The washing of waves came over him more, the tide ebbing and flowing over his body, pushing him. His head throbbed and he couldn’t move his arm– his extremities were cold, but his head… felt lighter.

Opening his one eye, it was clouded in red. Red. Oh, good. He’s gone to the Hells.

“Ser?” a voice called, sounding so far away. “Oi, Mare, come help me. He’s bleedin’ out.”

“Gods, he ain’t look too good, Jon. Think he’s gonna kick the bucket before we even get ‘em off the stones.”

“Leave… me…” Aemond somehow croaked out, his voice sounding like he had gargled rocks. “I’m meant… to be… dead…”

“Seems fate got more in store for you, lad,” one of the men said, “I’d be damned by the Seven themself if I leave you here to die on the shore. I ain’t going to Hell without trying, eh?”

Aemond felt two pairs of arms lift him up, their murmurs coming in and out of focus.

“We’re gonna get ya to the town tailor, lad. Ain’t no maester from the citadel, but she can right a stitch better than any– and ya needin’ a stitch or two. Miss Marigold will fix you right up.” the other said, still not totally convinced.

The jingling of a bell was heard– all Aemond could see still was red. “Marigold! We’ve got a live one for you– he’s hurtin’ real bad.”

The scent of lavender wafted over him like a balm as the seamstress stood over him. She made a choked sound, a sob– and a finger wiped the blood from out of his eye. His vision came into focus and the ever familiar visage of his love– she was there. She was real. She was… alive? Alive.

“Rosemary?”

“Aemond?”

A small, quiet voice was heard. “Mama, who’s there?”

#aemond fic #aemond x oc #aemond fanfiction #aemond targaryen #hotd aemond #house of the dragon aemond #aemond x fem!reader #prince aemond #aemond one eye #hotd x reader #hotd fanfic #aemond fanfic #aemond fandom #my writing #the maid's folly #aemond x servant

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vasilissadragomir · 2 months

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idk i don’t think it takes katniss 15 years to want kids or even to feel that the new world is safe enough to raise them. i think it takes 15 years for her to feel she’s ready to be the mother her kids will need in the instance she has to raise the children alone.

we all know from how she treats prim and rue that katniss is very maternal, even when she’s explicitly opposed to having kids. we also know that the only reason katniss ever says she doesn’t want kids is because she wouldn’t want them to face the world she lived in growing up. when the world is safer, i think there’s still a huge barrier to her having children: they way her mother reacted to her father’s loss. katniss never demonizes her mother for her illness and always acknowledges that her neglect was not a choice, and yet, she also recognizes how devastating it was to her, especially in her formative years. and not just because she had to step up as the caretaker—katniss resents her mother’s emotional neglect just as much if not more than the physical toll her disappearance took on her and prim.

katniss also knows that she, like her mother, will shut down at her breaking point, because she did when she lost peeta to the capitol. so i think it takes 15 years for katniss to feel stable enough, comfortable enough with the treatment options now available to her, to know she’ll always be there physically and emotionally to protect her children on her own. she still has ptsd, still has nightmares and fears, but they no longer control her life, because she knows that she’ll be able to handle them on her own if something were to happen to peeta.

even in a world with no games and no starvation, katniss would still need to wait to have children, even if she actively wanted them before. because katniss’ father might still have died when she was young and her mother still might have shut down. the severe emotional neglect katniss faces as a child is a trauma she acknowledges even more than her father’s death throughout the first book. katniss knows she can’t protect her future children from the accidents, the unfortunate events, the unavoidable evils of the world, like losing a parent at a young age. but she will do everything she can to ensure that, in the event of such loss, her kids have the emotional support system she never had. and i think that, more than a politically stable future or food security, is what takes her 15 years to build for her family.

#the hunger games #thg #katniss everdeen #peeta mellark #toast babies #mockingjay #thg analysis

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deathbxnny · 7 months

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yanqing and jing yuan angst time :D

yanqing’s younger!twin getting kidnapped by sanctus medicus,but they dont realize this much later,they realize this when they get sent a voicemail with the reader crying and begging it to stop as they experiment on them

by the time they arrive to rescue the reader, they are strapped to an operating table,injuries and syringe marks all over their body,completely unconsicous because the experiments took a huge toll on them, thankfully they are alive and not mara-struck either, but in a comatose state, sadly no one can predict when (or if they are ever gonna) wake up

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A/N: First of all, who hurt you, Anon? And second of all, I apologize for this taking 5 years to finally be written. My HSR burn out is no joke. But anyways, thank you for the request and I hope you'll like it!<33 Content: Some descriptions of medical abuse/experimentation!, heavy angst, Hurt/no real comfort, Reader is Yanqing's twin (no physical description added), injuries, blood, mentions of death, just more suffering for Yanqing and Jing Yuan really Reader has no set pronouns! ((Not proofread!))

It wasn't uncommon for you to be out later than you should be.

Often times you'd come home late into the night with a wide grin, slightly beat up from your long training hours, uttering a new, outlandish excuse everytime. Jing Yuan had gotten used to it over the years he had raised you and Yanqing, but when you didn't return home one night... he felt restless. He paced back and forth in his lavish home, still dressed in his uniform, whilst his ears drowned out the voices of his servants asking him to just rest for the night. You were a troublesome child, who often forgot the rules he had set for you. What difference did it make today?

But there was something different about it. Something that made Jing Yuan want to go out and look for you himself. Yanqing had already tried his luck, yet had found you nowhere. You weren't in the Estate. You weren't on your usual training grounds, not even on those only you two knew about. And you weren't in the sword market you often frequented either. You were just... gone. And that alone began to raise some warning bells for your brother too, who felt just as uneasy as his master.

He tried to reason however, that you might've just forgotten the time again. That maybe you've been held up by a friend or saw something in a nearby shop you liked. But the sun had disappeared a long time ago and there was no trace of you anywhere. Worse things were yet to come however, when a near out of breath Fu Xuan called in an emergency meeting with Jing Yuan and the young swordsmaster.

The air was tense, when they all gathered around the table, an unplayed voice recording shown on screen. Yanqing pulled on the collar of his shirt, his breathing a little laboured in fear of what he might just hear. He knew it was about you. It was unspoken, no one had even mentioned your name yet. But he knew it was true. No one moved to press the play button, until Jing Yuan moved his hand and did so. There was a small tremor in his hand, one that made even the blonde boy shiver.

Your voice made everyone flinch. Horrified pleas and cries filled everyone's ears and Yanqing swore he could've vomited from the sounds of it alone. It was mind breaking to hear you like that. He never thought you could scream like that, cry like that. It sounded distorted, like the cries of an injured animal more than that of a humans. Perhaps you were simply screaming out of instinct at that point, mind too far gone to process a thing beyond the pain.

And yet, you still cried out for Yanqing, then for Jing Yuan. You apologised for ever staying out late, swore you'd never do it again, swore you'd be good and obedient, never a minute off from curfew. You promised it to any god that would hear you, just for it all too end. Yanqing felt blood drip from his palm, where his nails digged into his skin. There was a low, evil laugh, a teasing hum following it. They recognised the voice as one of the leaders of Sanctus Medicus. Ofcourse they were behind such cruelty and yet Yanqing couldn't comprehend it.

The voice message ended abruptly and the silence after was deafening. Jing Yuan had not reacted once to any of it, his face calm and unreadable, when he glanced down at Yanqing. The boy gagged, his bloodied hand slapping over his mouth as he stumbled back and was stopped by a couple cloud knights that steadied them. Fu Xuan just stood there in silence, her eyes meeting his in a knowing way.

It was time to bring you back home.

Finding you was easy.

Mainly due to the fact, that your captors just simply gave them the address of the hell they've created for you. They were provoking them for their failures and their victory of swiping their most praised child from right under their noses. And it truly only set in, when they arrived and opened the door to the basement you were kept in. Yanqing had rushed in first, ignoring all warnings and only stopping when he heard the blood dripping off the table where your near unrecognisable form laid.

His hand swiped away the blood over your closed eyes, his over hand resting on your bruised chest, over your heart. He could feel it faintly rising and falling, a small moment of relief, even when he knew that the damage was most likely irreversible. His eyes shouldn't have continued to wander over your body and yet they did as a form of self punishment. He took in every bruise, every gash, every mark a syringe left behind. He gulped weakly, his throat so painfully dry. He felt ashamed, at how he couldn't mentally recognise you as his twin anymore.

Medics soon arrived on scene afterwards, quick to determine that you hadn't thankfully been Mara-struck, before they brought you to the hospital for emergency treatment. It took long, gruelling hours to stabilise you, that felt like eons for Yanqing and Jing Yuan, who had yet to give much of an reaction to the entire situation. He had to stay strong for the both of you at least. But it was hard to do that, when he saw you lay there in many bandages and countless devices hooked to you. Your heart was beating and yet he didn't allow himself to feel any relief. It was selfish, when there was no gurantee you would ever even wake up again.

The days blurred into weeks and then months.

But Yanqing never left your bedside, secretly hoping that if you did die, that he'd die in his sleep next to you as well.

-----

A/N: Alrightt... this was alot darker than I anticipated it to be, but I also have some rare couple hours of freetime, so there is that. I hope you guys liked it and thank you again for the request!

#honkai star rail #bxnny-talks #honkai star rail fanfic #honkai star rail x reader #honkai star rail x you #hsr x reader #hsr yanqing #hsr Yanqing x reader #hsr

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uravity-the-infinity-girl · 2 years

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ways that hero society hurts pro heroes headcanons

does anyone wanna hear the shit i think that heroes go through and why i feel they’re victims? no? ok

firstly i headcanon hero society as having extremely fucked up beauty standards where heroes face the same sort of scrutiny for their bodies as celebrities do in our world, like if a female hero is too muscular there will be men complaining that she looks like a guy and if a male hero isn’t muscular enough he’s lazy etc

i bet you anything that it was not only the fact that media interferes with hero work that Aizawa chose to stay out of the spotlight i bet in some subconscious way he was afraid of the intense scrutiny that comes with being a hero

not only that but heteromorphic people are always chastised and rarely do well in hero ranking if they don’t appear attractive or fit within the public’s view of heroes, i’m thinking of gang orca for example who is ranked number 1 in looks the most like a villain like for someone who fights villains for a living and has probably been harmed by them first hand that’s bound to take some psychological toll. that moment always bothered me and i think it’s really unfair for heroes to be categorised like that when they’re dedicating their lives to try to be useful. you just know that people with quirks like shoji will find it harder to succeed no matter how great or compassionate a hero he is.

i know it’s common in fan fiction for Hawks to have to hide aspects of his quirk that are unappealing but let’s think about that with other heroes as well like Mirko, i imagine she’s grown up with agents and superiors telling her it’s annoying when her foot won’t stop thumping or weird how she eats carrots or Mic being told to keep it down constantly-i’m sure there are loads of heroes who are made to be ashamed of aspects of who they are and have to hide them in order to sell an image and be more profitable and likeable.

i also imagine that they’re all terrified of aging and that perpetual fear of losing their spotlight is probably a huge part of their psyche as from a young age they feel they have limited time to be successful like when hawks is talking about his prime calm tf down your life has barely started.

heroes are objectified so much by the commission being treated like weapons makes them feel like their bodies are what make them useful-just look at hawks’ reaction to losing his wings calling himself crippled and pathetic because he can’t be as efficiently used despite still being able to achieve so much with his intelligence, determination and physical skill alone. Mirko may not have the same self deprecating attitude towards her injuries however her dedication to continue fighting by whatever means she can is a testament to how heroes are taught to act with no thought for their own safety if they want to be useful. this is what makes AFO scary to the heroes, the fact they can lose their quirk and therefore their usefulness is terrifying. i like to imagine that many heroes felt or still feel about AFO as korra did about amon in s1 of lok.

furthermore heroes are expected to give their lives at the drop of a hat, mirko lives every day like it’s her last because for heroes their is no safety net or garuntee that they will survive they can’t just give up or protect themselves in the face of certain death or they literally wouldn’t be doing their job. you saw how disposable Lady nagant was to the president of the HPSC clearly they don’t have any care for the lives of even the heroes they work closest with. Mirko and Aizawa cut off their own limbs without blinking because they have to and they’ve been trained this way and it’s horrific how ready to die all of the heroes are without a second thought despite how young they are. arguably it’s admirable but if i learnt anything from she-ra it’s that they need to find a bit of self worth and need to be treated as people who’s lives and well being should be a priority rather than disposable weapons to be used with no regard to their safety.

and it’s fucking beautiful that All might chose to live, the man who has been through the most and given pretty much all there is to give. He’s given up his whole life, his bodily health, his self esteem, his friends, his image as a natural born hero and so much more just to protect people. All might was able to break the cycle of death be choosing to live rather than give his life up and Deku will break the cycle by choosing to save rather than defeat or kill.

i just think that being a hero is so exhausting and must take so much out of you, it’s important to remember how much they are victims of the system

#bnha #mha #keigo takami #hawks #mirko #miruko #rumi usagiyama #yagi toshinori #all might #shouta aizawa #eraserhead #gang orca #btw i’m not claiming these r canon #this is headcanons not a meta post😭

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the-s1lly-corner · 9 months

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I want to request like. A cuddling session with Slenderman, who is having a bad day and we comfort him

(つ≧▽≦)つ

I'm addicted to the idea of him pretending to be okay with people calling him monster, but deep down he has this longing for it to stop, since he wanted to get along with the proxies and others he deemed second family.

So he like, rant about his day while reader comfort him.

Maybe get him a little fluster aswell （〜^∇^ )〜

(Take your time and have a good day/night)

All Entwined in One Web

obligatory im stuck in the 2015 era of the creepypasta fandom and ive been mulling over this sort of approach in my head for the past month because i revisited an old slenderman x oc fanfic that had a death grip on me and shaped the way i will interact with + and consume creepypasta stuff for the sake of saving grace and not revealing HOW cringe i was im not going to drop the fanfic name (unless yall dm me because!! i still wanna support the author even if it seems theyre inactive now!) i blame this author for making me a demon sympathizer/j/lh written kinda different than my basic bullet list of hcs! got silly with this one, sorry if its jarring compared to my usual stuff </3 this post is mostly just my hc on like. slender (and by extension all demon characters) being neutral and a simple part of nature that stems from zalgo (yay im finally dropping zalgo lore for my au since he functions differently in my au/hc!!) so take this with a HUGE grain of salt since i feel this deters from the main take people use (that ive seen, at least) this one ended up being more.. sad than i first intended and imma be honest i kinda got into my feelings when i was writing this anywaus i hope this isnt too cringe since i dont talk much about my HUGEhcs/au stuff/rewritten stuff so!! plus i dont usually write BIG detailed stuff like this sobsob tldr; slenderman isnt good or evil hes just a neutral piece of nature in the world and hes trying to cope with it. the demon gods really fucked up by making him sentient and able to process human like emotions

death is a force of nature and people curse it for simply being a part of life; people curse wild animals for being, and people will curse the weather

in this universe, or timeline, demons exist in a similar manner. slenderman exists simply because hes a part of that huge web of nature. of course, that includes every single ugly instinct that humans hate so so much. and he can understand why, even if its his nature.

the one responsible for that web, is zalgo. the beginning and end of everything. neither alive nor dead, all demons stem from zalgo in one way or another.

a solitary creature that prefers to stay alone in the comfort of its home, it doesnt tend to reach out to harm others unless theres harm. only really attacking people that threaten to expose it or get too close...

except, you... you were the one exception. regardless of how you managed to worm yourself into his heart, and become his lifelong companion, hes grateful for your presence when things begin to build up.

he knows that in the eyes of others, he ugly and vile, but he knows that ultimately thats what protects him. he insists that its better this way, sticking to the forest away from the prying eyes.

SURE, he could follow in his brothers footsteps and make a false human body and try to blend in with the people. but is that really efficient? is that really something he wants? hes a powerful being but that would eventually take its toll on him..

ultimately he resigns himself into your arms; once oozing powerful and command, now crumpled and curled.

he never had a childhood, when zalgo created him, he simply.

was

no adolescence, no developing, no growing. he was always what he was meant to be, but he likes to think that when youre holding him, that this is what it feels like to be so small and vulnerable.

humans had it so easy, hed think. theyre born and they die and the process repeats itself for everyone. they dont have to be feared or hated, or kill to survive.

yes, to him, being mortal was far more preferable to being condemned to being a lonely hermit who corrupts and breaks everything it touches.

even with your comfort, theres only so much that you can do; youll eventually pass on as well and hell be stuck in his cycle once more

but for now, as you hum softly and whisper nothings to him as you let him crumble; hell let himself weep just this once.

because as much as he envies your life, and what humans have, he cant deny that he cant bring himself to truly hate them, because like him, theyre simply a piece of natures web.

#creepypasta au #creepypasta slenderman #creepypasta headcanon #slenderman x reader #slenderman headcanons #slenderman imagine #drabbles #angst #really im just being silly #creepypasta #creepypasta x reader #creepypasta x you

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manuchyy · 2 years

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cheong-san with a gf who always stays calms and acts like a pillar of support for everyone during the apocalypse but ends up breaking down when it gets too much but luckily she has cheong-san to help her! (ahh i saw requests were open and i’ve never requested before so i hope i did this right LOL)

a CHEONG-SAN X FEMALE READER fanfic

Genre: soft romance, horror with fluff and comfort.

Warnings: mentions of death, gore and dark, suicidal thoughts. A few cuss words too.

Synopsis: you were always thoughtful and caring, never thinking twice before putting others above yourself. This didn't change after the outbreak, it only pushed your actions over the limit. It's only a matter of time before the consequences arrive.

Author’s Note: I AM SO SORRY! I deeply apologize for the HUGE delay this story and many others had. I had lost motivation and my mental health went down the drain after I got covid, The stress I felt whenever I tried writing was terrible and I needed more time away from stuff. I’m slowly coming back and noting many ideas for future stories. And I am so sorry if the ending of this story seems lazy or just cheesy...I am so sorry :( It’s been months without writing. I hope this story was what you had in mind though, again a huge apology for the delay. I hope you are doing okay dear anon! Much love <3

You could no longer recall for how long you've been trapped in the school, and neither could your classmates remember when it all began. At first, it had been all about survival and playing the waiting game for rescue, counting the days for it's arrival. The sounds of helicopters who flew by had brought hope, a glimpse of that small chattered hope was all they had. But they never came. The sound of planes and sightings of soldiers had brought strength to keep going, to wait. But they never came. Slowly, that loop of false hope took it's toll on your former classmates upon realizing you all had been forgotten, left behind. Left to die.

While at some point most gave up, you stood your ground and worked hard to adapt to everything that happened around you. The outbreak, the infected, survival. Your efforts not only gave the group emotional support, but provided them with security, supplies and a warmth that was lost since day one.

Although you were never an athlete, never fit in the category of an athlete and never had what it took to be one, you still had focused short workout sessions that lasted from 5-10 minutes, working on your strength and stamina in hopes of being more of a support when facing against the infected. You had also come up with ways to fight back using furniture and materials around the school to the group's advantage, hoping it would make it easier to deal with the infected when the time came. You had done practically everything in your power to help.

But with every passing day, it became clear the road ahead all of you wouldn't be easy to cope with. Upon loosing friends and family, you had watched the same happen to your fellow companions and your feelings were thrown into a deep pit of helplessness. You could feel fear and doubt clawing at you. Loss wasn't something you could fix, wasn't something you could reverse and bring it back. No, you watched it and took it in. You had accepted, accepted that this perhaps was what would happen to all of you one day. You had watched your friends cry upon seeing their loved ones turned into homicidal infected, with only rage driven instincts lingering in their now empty minds. You couldn't help them.

You knew that giving into frustration and letting that pit of dark, insane driven thoughts take over you would only worsen the already sensitive situation. That small spark of hope you brought to all of them was all they had to hold on to, and that couldn't be destroyed. You couldn't worsen things between you and the others, especially Cheong-San.

Cheong-San had shown a lot of support towards your ideas and workout sessions, being of great help with some of them even. He stood constantly by your side, assisted and protected you while on high alert for anything that could bring you harm. Even though you had his company, he liked to silently watch and listen. Almost as if he were a ghost, observing you from the shadows. Cheong-San loved how willing you were to survive and to implement that same energy into your fellow companions, supporting them even when you were brought down. However, he was well aware that was one of your facades to strengthen others and not you. You were risking your life so others could survive.

Despite seeing right through your actions, Cheong-San stood quiet and didn't protest against what you've done. He couldn't. You had given your best to get where you were now, as well as the group. They all needed that support, that positivity only you had. Cheong-San acknowledged that destroying it would most likely get everyone killed. You included. He had asked you multiple times if you were okay and keeping yourself just as healthy, but you had dismissed him time after time.

You weren't dumb, you could understand and appreciate he was worried and you knew he wanted to help but you would never in a million years let him risk himself like you were doing. You'd put him above the others and yourself if need be, you'd make sure he survived even if you had to be left behind. Cheong-San was everything to you, your only source of happiness and you would be lying if you said you weren't grateful for the things he'd done for you. He'd done a lot, more than necessary even. Now it was your time to fill in that spot, to repay him somehow.

...

The day had gone by rather quickly, forcing you and the group of survivors to take some refuge and rest in the comfort provided by what used to be a classroom, tiding it up and making sure it was secure enough for the night. It had been a rough day, rougher than any other and that was being generous.

While your classmates drifted off to sleep, you had stayed awake to work on one of your many plans on how to get out of there as soon as the sun rised, and as you hadn't slept properly in a long time you thought it wasn't a big deal to stay awake again. Every classroom was temporary, it had to be, otherwise you'd have infected coming in from every side. You learnt the hard way that they will follow their rabid instincts to go after uninfected people, searching and ravaging every corner to find them after a long period of time. And they bring in friends, they are never alone.

With a small piece of paper and a pencil, you worked smoothly in your plan, drawing and writing every idea you had into the blank spaces. You were standing, your left hand serving as support on the table while the other held the pencil loosely. The classroom was dark and the only source of light came from outside, the night's natural light shinning right through the small gap in the window and right into your paper. The table was placed next to the window and you could have a better view of what your school had become, of what it's former students had become. You shot them glances while you worked, the silent snores of your classmates and the usual moans and grunts from the infected outside serving as the only source of sound to keep you sane enough. The sight didn't bother you anymore, nor did the sounds. Or so you thought.

You were so concentrated in your plan you failed to notice the tall figure approaching from behind you, hand were felt on your hips and it was enough to startle you for a brief moment, until the touch was recognized and you relaxed. The touch was gentle and smooth, a touch you so learned to appreciate and love. As you turn around, you are met with Cheong-San's tired expression, already telling you that he hadn't slept ever since you all had arrived to the classroom.

''Cheong-San, why aren't you sleeping?'' You questioned, keeping your voice low as to not disturb your sleeping classmates and quickly shifting your attention back to the paper in front of you.

''I could ask you the same thing...'' Cheong-San mumbled, making you pause your writing momentarily to look up at him again. He sighed, knowing exactly where this was going.

''Cheong-San-''

''No, stop-''

You finally raise your voice, shooting him a glare. ''Cheong-San, please.''

You hated raising your voice at him, especially when there are others around. But you couldn't and wouldn't have this conversation, it was complicated and you had something else to focus on, the arguments you both had usually lasted for an hour or two. This wasn't the time.

''I don't want to talk about this now, not again. I-I know you worry about me but please just let me work on this and I promise I'll go to sleep, okay? We need this right now, they need this. Please.'' You implored, a frown making itself present on your face and all those pent up emotions catching up to the recent events.

''And what about you? You've been working on...these plans and-and preparations for far too long. You don't even take care of yourself do you? You barely talk to me now too...'' He sighed, removing his hands from your hips and crossing his arms ''Do you have any idea how I feel?''

You paused. He just pulled that card, and you were furious.

‘‘Excuse me?’‘ You began, blinking in shock at his question. ‘’I- I don’t have any idea how you feel?! Why do you think I’m doing all of this? For myself? I’m doing this so you can all fucking survive, so I can protect you! I don’t want you or the others to end up like my damn parents, can you understand that? Especially YOU! I fucking love you and- and- I care about you so damn much and I want to protect you, you’ve done that to me so many times I want to repay you!’’

At this point you were crying, the sniffles could be heard all across the classroom and your classmates stared in shock at the scene taking place in the corner. They woke up with your yells, you hadn’t noticed how loud you’ve gotten as you ranted. Cheong-San stood still in front of you, his eyes were wide and they had a hint of sadness in them. Had you been hiding all of these feelings from him?

‘‘I-I’m sorry, I can’t- I can’t-’‘ You broke down crying and Cheong-San was quick to catch you in his arms, holding you tightly. ‘‘I’m sorry, I’m sorry.’‘

The warm embrace Cheong-San held made you feel at home, made you feel safe. It was a hold you never wanted to loose, a hold you wanted to cherish forever. Cheong-San understood that and never wasted any time on giving you that, he wanted you to smile and tell him your problems. He knew that this time would come and hoped he would be able to make you change your mind, but the outcome clearly didn’t turn out as expected. He had been hesitant at first, silently watching you from his resting spot in one of the corners, but seeing you awake to work on the plans again made his heart clench in guilt. Your classmates had gone back to sleep after a while seeing as Cheong-San had it under control, not that them interfering would make things any better. It was something between the both of you only.

Cheong-San’s emotions were all over the place, his thoughts scrambled to get proper words out of his mouth without hurting you any further but it seemed so hard. Your mind was way too overwhelmed, he was worried that whatever he tried to say would make it worse, he was insecure. Cheong-San then opted to whisper sweet nothings into your ear, telling you he understood. And he did, he really did. He made sure his hold was tight so you could focus on that only, focus on the embrace.

The hug and sweet words seemed to work as your body relaxed under his touch after a few minutes, your sniffles could still be heard but you weren’t crying anymore. That dark pit of emotions you felt was no longer there, the uncertainty that had clawed at you was gone, the feeling of helplessness was gone. All you could think about was the hold that reminded you of old times, when things were more simple. At some point, Cheong-San pulled away from the hug and looked into your watery eyes. He smiled at you, and that smile was enough to let you know you weren’t alone.

No words had to be said, that smile was the source of your strength, the source of your happiness that you seemed to have lost long ago. The source of your hope.

The source of your survival.

#lee cheongsan x reader #cheong san #cheong-san x reader #all of us are dead x reader #all of us are dead #all of us are dead fanfic #lee cheong san #all of us are dead request #cheongsan x reader #aouad x reader #x reader #aouad fanfic #fanfic request #female reader #aouad fluff #aouad request

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brights-place · 4 months

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Hiya! Hope you are doing well today!

Would like to request like a d*ad!reader x tim/masky from before or during marble hornets-- (you can pick if they were involved during mh or no)

Pleases and thank yous!!

-🙀 anon

Rise from the grave

Pairings: Tim(othy)/Masky X S/O Reader

Warnings: Mentions of Death, Abnormal Activity, Cursing, Blood, Horror shit, an small amount of gore, D.I.D, and Mental Issues

A/N: OMG OMG YES FINALLY AN REQUEST! Anyways thanks for the request Anon I’m going to serve you some Headcannons and some random bits and pieces that I think would Suite this! <33

- Masky and Tim are two different people and Tim’s not aware of Masky but Masky is Aware of Tim.

- So There reactions would be different to seeing you

- He’d be horrified seeing you again since you were gone…

- The pain in your eyes and how your body was an mess and was ruined.

- Your death left an huge toll on him which affected and made his mental health worse along with his black outs when he wouldn’t eat or take his meds for an couple of days.

- He would start having an panic attack

- The rotting smell of flesh, the smell of dirt and the lingering scent of moss made him want to hurl when staring at you.

- Your appearance was different and scary and that’s what made him scared.

- Your once vibrant figure was more different. It was now a gruesome sight. Torn clothes hang off your mutilated body, drenched in dried blood, while deep gashes and lacerations mar on your skin.

- your dead and lifeless eyes staring at his made him take an step back in fear as you reach your hands out to him whispering “Tim” under your croaky and hoarse voice.

- he broke down on the spot as you approached him

- When you knelt down and your slender fingers touched him he froze instantly your scent lingering in his nose that made him vomit to the side of his body.

- The fact that even though your body was never found he saw you infront of him torn to shreds making his tears burn due to how he failed to protect you… how he failed to keep you safe.

- you were making an film then it led up to this shit show of an life

- as he was busy losing it and breaking down your voice snapped him out of it… even though your appearance was more… different he still knew it was you

- even though he left you to explore the woods chasing after the yellow hooded male and something that you said that scared you he didn’t listen to busy focusing on what the Operator was doing.

- he cried as he stared at you

- as soon as you even try to hug him he will still be in fear and scoot backwards checking to find his pills so you would go away.

- you didn’t…

- you still followed and lingered behind him trying to get his attention

- you even tried to stand infront of him showing your sweet smile but your once sweet smile had blood coated on your lips and an obvious dirt stain on your cheek.

- If he pass outs and turns into Masky then it’s an whole other thing

- Masky would be more hostile but then think you would be useful

- Masky would still be afraid of you but more confident abit in the same way yk???

- he would manipulate you to his own venue fr your already dead so he doesn’t care

- would use Tim against you since well Masky and Tim shared an body of course

- Masky would also ask you things about h th e operator since YOU have seen him more clearly then anybody else…

- when Masky and Tim Switch you keep tabs on it.

- your dead so like you don’t have anything else to do but follow your partner/ or friend who still thinks you aren’t real or just doesn’t pay attention to you until they need something.

- when Tim was having an panic attack even though you were dead and more… diffrent looking it didn’t mean your heart didn’t change or feelings change.

- you went or comfort him but it made it worse for abit before he started to speak.

- “If I told you about the darkness and things I kept hidden would you still even love me? even if you were alive or dead?”

- you’d listen to him even offer an hand (You pulled off your hand and offered it to him to lighten up the mood which he chuckled at before getting freaked out worriedly looking at you)

- He’d blame himself on and on about how he ended up making you die but you blamed how you curiosity got the best of you and that’s how you ended up dying (I think know the term curiosity kills the cat? YUP! That’s it)

- You two would talk and cry and vent together and talk about your memories together when you were alive…

- but it was known that Masky/Tim had to move on soon he can’t date/befriend the dead… no matter how many memories you talk about you are stuck in the body of an ruined corpse

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k-s-morgan · 1 year

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Katrin, how's the situation there? Have you ever considered leaving your country for a while? I really want you to be in a safe place where you don't have to witness all this horror that Russia is causing. I want to see the end of this war with Ukraine coming out victorious, but I want you to see it even more. But for that you need to be alive. Russia has already shown that it has no qualms about killing civilians, I don't want you to be another death toll in this war.

Hi! Thank you for caring, it means so much. I considered leaving during the first most terrifying month of this war, when Ruzzians were trying to take Kyiv. They were very close, nearly at the city, with the artillery and short-range missiles reaching us in addition to long-range ones. It was loud all the time; their missiles and artillery suck, so they often hit buildings and random targets, and there was no telling what they would do if they started invading street after street.

After Ruzzians were repelled and forced to retreat from Kyiv, the biggest danger passed. Now, we only face the threat of bombings, which is a huge step up from what we faced before. It's still dangerous, it's still terrifying, but I no longer think about leaving. There are three major reasons for it.

The majority of my family are males. My younger brother, my Dad and my step-father aren't allowed to leave, they are locked in Ukraine. My Mom refuses to leave them; she also has a job she needs. She won't find anything like it because of her age and Ukraine-specific qualifications; she's scared of losing her retirement money, too, and this will happen if she leaves prematurely. My family is my soul, my everything, I see no point in leaving without them. For a month or two, sure, but who knows how long this nightmare will last? Then there are my pets. I cannot bring three cats and three pigeons with me. At least here, we are together, all of us.

The second reason is that I have some commitments here. I feed homeless kitties and wild pigeons. I know them all by name, I love them, I watch out for them and their health. No one from my family can provide them with the care I ensure.

Finally, my long-term love for my home and my city is bigger than my short-term fear. I'm helping our military in the way I can; I'm proud of remaining a part of my country, and I refuse to be kicked out from the place where I grew up, that has so many memories, including those made with people and pets I lost. I cherish my home, everything about it, and I want to stay here.

Realistically, the chances of me dying because of the war are very low. My city has a great air-defense system now; the missiles that we fail to intercept usually hit pretty far away. For one of them to hit my house, my window - it's highly, highly unlikely. Unfortunately, it's still possible, and it doesn't diminish my sheer, raw terror when the attacks happen. I'm afraid it won't change until the end of the war…

#personal #ukraine #kyiv #russia is a terrorist state

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grislyintentions · 1 month

Text

|| HC- Diviner's Fate ||

In reference to the Glimpses into the Beyond manuscript penned by Fuxuan herself, she spares little effort in reminding/warning other diviners that any actions that imply attempts to predict Yaoshi's fate will be treated as an unforgivable felony.

Despite the considerable leniency that is offered to those who attempt to predict the fates of other Aeons (still illegal), the Ten-Lords Commission equates acts of trying to predict Yaoshi's as a crime equal to the Ten Unpardonable Sins. Diviners found guilty of said transgression will be punished strictly- provided they are still alive after committing said crime as those who have tried have all met tragic fates of their own.

Given these factors, there are two possible outcomes that befall Diviners who attempt to predict Yaoshi's fate:

Mental Collapse (Subsequent development of Acute Megalophobia)

Divination is by no means true omniscience. It is a practise of making calculations based on recorded instances of data and the Diviner's ability to map out multiple possibilities based on the movements, logic as well as thought processes from it.

As witnessed in March's story quest, the Matrix of Prescience is used by diviners to draw information from the past to predict the future by literally placing the observing person in said variable scenarios to derive accurate outcomes, albeit heightened by Fuxuan's third eye.

The Matrix actively draws the future it observes from Chaos.

So how does one even begin to calculate and predict the fate of Aeons who fill the skies like celestial bodies? A being that is incomparably huge, move according to their own Path with a transcendent mind? How does one even define chaos of such magnitude?

Both devices as well as the living mind has their limits. To withstand, hold and interpret something of this magnitude is realistically impossible to accomplish without breaking something in the process either by fragmenting of memory or mental collapse in efforts to preserve one's well being ie: amnesia, memory repressing etc.

In such a scenario, it is likely that diviners may experience a similar phenomenon. Their added ability to literally "visualise" observations may also cause the Matrix of Prescience to backfire and create a massive toll mentally. And they could thus develop an accute fear of vastness when bombarded with everything at once (fear of outer space, bodies of water, atmosphere so on so forth). TLDR: A living hellscape they cannot avoid. Resuming divination duties would be impossible with the emotional association, PTSD and trauma. ON TOP of having to be punished for committing what is essentially a crime.

Victim of Parasitism (Eventual Brain Death)

To essentially divine an Aeon's fate is to quite literally observe and visualise oneself walking down their path. While it might seem achievable at first, this places the human psyche in a very tenuous position.

They have to possess a certain level of emotional understanding in order to navigate the accurate steps. When tied with their own cultural complicated feelings towards Yaoshi, it can all form a level of cognitive dissonance and dissociation in order to process things.

With reference to how the "Aeons" in Herta's simulated universe could capture notice of the Trailblazer from his actions, why would this then be a stretch? Especially when the Luofu is a place already filled with Yaoshi's blessings, along with those who actively pay homage to their practises, it is all too easy for the Aeon to take notice of repeated engagement from a certain device.

Diviners who try to place themselves in the mindset of an all too generous Aeon will likely be further poisoning themselves with not only knowledge but also a stronger unfiltered emotional connection with Yaoshi.

With parasitic comparisons of my Yaoshi portrayal, I like to think that the diviners may suffer a similar fate to the ants who have the unfortunate displeasure of crossing the path of the Ophiocordyceps unilateralis.

Once infected by the fungi, ants would often alter their behavioural patterns by searching for areas best suited for fungal growth. They then attach themselves to leaves, remaining there to their deaths from which the fungi spores grow and release from the spores in their head. This is something that has devastated multiple ant colonies.

Similarly for diviners, they will remain unawares to the facts that mara symptoms have begun to develop at an erratic rate within them. In the ensuing days to come, they may experience a radical change in ideology, compelling them to follow down Yaoshi's path or join up with the Disciples of Sanctus Medicus.

Those who fight to retain their own lucidity may experience the soul crushing endeavor of losing their mental faculties periodically, feeling their bodies and mind revolt against them. It is a slow, terrifying and debilitating experience that may cause them to take the only means out rather than give in to Yaoshi. Thus, also succeeding temporarily in accomplishing the Aeon's goal of relieving them from 'suffering'. They cannot escape not even in the end.

#charac: yaoshi #[a lot of people bash divination practises #but this is the very same concept present with strategising as a whole. its not omniscience. its pattern prediction and can be applied #in a lot of things not just spiritually. but in defense tactics etc too.#thats why fuxuan is placed in such a prominent position together w jingyuan during militaristic approaches]#[please take w grain of salt! i just like to think thonks and fling spaghet gbgbg]#brain injury cw #parasitism cw #suicide tw

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littlegoodpups · 2 months

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Paw patrol movie spoilers!! //

It genuinely has me baffled how these tiny, adorable furballs have such low self-esteem.

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In the mighty pups episode, Chase had such little self-esteem and hesitated a lot on being a team leader. This happened similarly in the movie, too. Actually, in many episodes where he's put 'team-leader' he doubts his abilities to do so. And it's not just him, either!

Marshall. Oh my god where do I start? Poor boy is so insecure about his capabilities and place on the team. He literally ran away in an episode thinking his friends made fun of him for 'not doing anything right'. These thoughts also come from how clumsy he is, and he just thinks he's some no-good pup and it's so sad! Sure he would constantly wipeout but that's what makes him so loveable! Cracking one-liners and making puns, He's such a good pup.

And Skye, she felt unimportant compared to the rest of the pups because she was 'small and insignificant'. It's so heartbreaking! Skye was my favorite pup as a kid and I swear if she doesn't love herself I will love her. And, as small as it sounds, (pun unintended), Skye's issues have a huge psychological impact on her. And then, she almost froze to death if it wasn't for Ryder. Imagine the amount of trauma that may have caused.

Chase. Oh my god my heart melts for him. He's such a tiny furball WHY DOES HE HAVE TRAUMA. Not only he sees himself as a bad team leader, he was abandoned at such a young age. The movie was amazing. But his fear of adventure city just shatters my heart and I just want to squeeze him.

And let's not forget about the pups' beloved owner, Ryder. He fell from a tower. How did he survive? Movie logic. But still! That is incredibly traumatizing, and yet somehow he still doesn't even get hurt? He walks just fine after that. Ryder was caught in a literal life-or-death situation at the age of TEN. He's ten. I'm glad Chase was there; and props to Ryder for having backup plans and being resourceful, but seriously, getting almost killed by all that rubble probably took a huge mental toll on the poor kid.

These guys don't deserve their negative perceptions of themselves. They are so cool and pawsome. They're all so so young too !! I want to squeeze the pups and pet them and play with them oh my god.

#paw patrol #paw patrol chase #paw patrol marshall #paw patrol skye #paw patrol the movie #paw patrol the mighty movie #movie spoilers #cartoon dogs #nickelodeon #spin master entertainment #traumatized cartoon dogs #whoopsie long rant

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enneamage · 8 months

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Been rolling this idea around a bit lately. I think that there are some people who expect that if they 'get rid of'/get revenge on the right person, they’ll somehow create a sense of satisfaction that could offset the massive emotional toll that lockdown had on them. Something under the sunk cost fallacy, that if they ride things out for long enough the universe will have to reward them with whatever it is they’re waiting for.

Lockdown and this corner of mcyt fandom are incredibly linked, most of it came about from people having massive amounts of time, not much good in the world to invest in and no way to conduct an IRL social life. (Not a 'touch grass' snipe, just the genuine state of affairs, nobody had a choice here.) The entire planet became noisy roommates on twitter dot com, and the challenge of any huge group living together constantly is primarily making sure they don’t seriously hurt each other, because they often do. Everyone became hostage to everyone else, drinking from the fire hose of the fandom activity of thousands of people at a time. Add being trapped in a small space for months at a time and the world becomes a screen, a website, a fandom, and the people in it become larger than life.

Real hurt was happening all the time, and people took it out on each other every day. It had a lot of layers: the constant abstract fear of death and distrust of the entire world, the double-sided nature of attachment making people protective of some ccs while going after others, people seeing themselves in others and taking the problems that someone was put through personally, the ugly parts of society naturally coming out because no fandom is a vacuum. Everyone was ‘going through some stuff at home’ every day and channelling it into fandom discourse because there wasn’t much else people had. Subgroups started to hold grudges against ccs and each other, and the pressure built from there.

Honestly, I don’t think that cathartic ‘moment’ could ever fully exist, especially compared to the grief of the lockdowns. Scapegoats, even if they did wrong, often take more blame and symbolic value than naturally belongs to them, and getting rid of them solves less than people think it does even when it’s necessary. If the nail that stands out gets hammered down, there will always be another nail, and if the only way people have to cope with it is complete elimination this cycle will never really end. It’s important to be able to recognize that perfect closure isn’t going to happen, and waiting for it genuinely drives people crazy. People have to give themselves permission to move on instead of waiting for the internet to hand it to them, even if it's hard.

#there probably isn't going to be a final battle #compared to the chances of more papercuts forever #the only ending is the one people give themselves by curating their space #mageessay

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panicinthestudio · 24 days

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In the first moments after the huge quake hit, Lanni Hsu grabbed her dog and her family, and fled. Running down five flights of stairs, she headed outdoors to seek safety from falling objects.

Hsu lives in Hualien, a busy tourist city on Taiwan’s east coast, where the 7.2-magnitude quake struck on Wednesday morning. The death toll then stood at seven, but has since risen to nine, with 800 injured and hundreds trapped under rubble.

Three people among a group of seven on an early-morning hike through the hills that surround the city were crushed to death by boulders loosened by the earthquake, officials said. Separately, a truck driver died when his vehicle was hit by a landslide as it approached a tunnel in the area.

Hualien’s people are no stranger to deadly earthquakes. Even so, this was the most frightened Hsu had felt, she said.

While her panic-stricken neighbours wondered what to do next, they learned that the basement of their building was starting to flood. Fearing the building could collapse, they decided to leave.

As Hsu and her family drove in search of an open space for refuge, the city’s streets became clogged with traffic and emergency vehicles. She could hear the earth rumble as the aftershocks hit.

Wednesday’s earthquake, which hit south-east of Hualien, is the strongest in Taiwan in almost 25 years, and for intensity almost matches the “921” earthquake, named after the date it took place on 21 September 1999, which left more than 2,400 people dead.

Hualien’s people have faced many serious earthquakes in recent years. In September 2022, a 6.9-magnitude quake with its epicentre near the city toppled buildings and derailed a train, killing one person and cutting off power for thousands of residents.

Yashwanth Kuthati said he had just dropped his children at school and was driving away on his moped through Hualien’s Wednesday morning rush-hour traffic when the quake hit. First, he felt as if the air had been let out of his moped’s tyres. Then, within seconds, there was chaos as drivers around him slammed the brakes, or fell off their bikes amid the tremors. Even after reaching safety, he still felt distressed.

“We can see people screaming and the tremors have kept coming every few minutes, for many hours,” he said, adding it was the biggest earthquake he had witnessed in 12 years living in Taiwan. “I don’t think I can sleep inside the house tonight,” he added. “I feel very scared.”

Lai Hung-shu, a hostel owner in Hualien county, said she was used to earthquakes, but this one was different.

“When the earthquake first started, we weren’t really exceptionally nervous, we get earthquakes all the time, but the thing that was different about this earthquake was the shaking felt much more violent and went on far longer than they typically do.”

Her hostel is in the mountains, and when the quake began she could hear the sound of rockfall coming down the mountain. Aftershocks continued all day, she said. She worried about the long-term effect on the tourist industry.

“The primary reason that we have visitors to our hostel is to see the beauty of Taroko national park, we won’t know how long it will take for repairs to be made or for guests to think about returning here.

“The road connecting Hualien with the north has been completely destroyed … this is the most serious damage to infrastructure we have ever seen.”

In central Taipei, light damage was visible on some buildings on Wednesday morning, including at Liberty Square, one of the city’s most prominent tourist landmarks.

Outside the Howard Plaza hotel, passersby gazed up at the damage to the hotel’s exterior, where the earthquake had cracked its brickwork and dislodged some lettering on the hotel’s sign.

“I’ve never felt this kind of earthquake in LA, even though we have earthquakes pretty often,” said Mike Hung Hsu, a hotel guest visiting from the US who was woken by the temblor. “I used to live in Taiwan; in my memory we never had an earthquake like this one.”

He said his family had cancelled a planned sightseeing trip to Yilan county, near Hualien on the island’s east coast, as there was no way to travel by public transport.

Aftershocks from the Hualien quake continued for hours after the initial temblor, and tremors were reportedly felt as far away as Hong Kong, Fujian and Shanghai.

Kuthati, who rents scooters to tourists in Hualien and operates a guest hostel with his wife, expects a big impact on his income from lost tourist business, with many of the main roads into the city blocked and rail lines out of service. Taiwan is about to observe a four-day weekend for the Tomb Sweeping festival, when families traditionally pay their respects to their ancestors or travel to the island’s many nature spots.

Hualien usually draws large numbers of backpackers, hikers and cyclists seeking the stunning natural beauty of the surrounding landscape, including the nearby Taroko national park. But with landslides in the vicinity, many will probably stay home for the next few days.

The Guardian

#Hualien #earthquake #Taiwan #The Guardian #news

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beardedmrbean · 8 months

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More than 3,000 people are believed to have died in devastating floods across eastern Libya, the country's health minister said Tuesday.

Another 10,000 people are believed to be missing, according to Tamer Ramadan, Libya envoy for the International Federation of Red Cross and Red Crescent Societies.

"The death toll is huge and might reach thousands," Ramadan said during a press briefing on Tuesday.

In just the city of Derna, the worst hit area, at least 700 people have been confirmed dead from the unprecedented flooding. A quarter of Derna was wiped out after dams burst and the city was declared a disaster zone, with electricity and communication having been cut off.

An additional 1,200 people were injured in the flooding in Derna, according to authorities.

The cities of Al Marj, Susah, Shahat and Al Bayda have also recorded several fatalities.

Rescue and relief efforts were underway on Tuesday to assist those affected by the flooding, according to Gen. Khalifa Haftar, head of the powerful Libyan military faction that controls the eastern part of the divided country.

"We issued immediate instructions to use all our capabilities, provide the needed support of all urgent medical equipment, operate medical convoys and to allocate shelters to those who lost their homes," Haftar said in a televised address on Tuesday. "We have directed the government to form a specialized committee to assess the damage, instantly begin the reconstruction of roads to facilitate transportation, restore the electricity and to take all immediate and needed measures in that regards."

Mediterranean storm Daniel is behind the widespread flooding in the North African nation as it swept away entire neighborhoods and destroyed homes in several coastal towns over the weekend.

Libya's National Center of Meteorology reported that more than 16 inches of rain fell in the city of Bayda within a 24-hour period to Sunday, according to the flood tracking website Floodlist.

Initial reports indicated that the storm damaged dozens of cities and villages in the area, according to Georgette Gagnon, the United Nations humanitarian coordinator for Libya.

"I am deeply saddened by the severe impact of [Storm] Daniel on the country and have tasked an emergency response team to prepare to support local authorities and partners in the region," Gagnon wrote in a post on social media on Monday. "I call on all local, national and international partners to provide urgent humanitarian assistance to those affected at this difficult time."

U.S. Special Envoy to Libya Ambassador Richard Norland announced Tuesday that the American embassy in Tripoli "has issued an official declaration of humanitarian need in response to the devastating floods in Libya."

"The declaration of humanitarian need will authorize initial funding that the United States will provide in support of relief efforts in Libya," Norland said in a statement. "We are coordinating with U.N. partners and Libyan authorities to assess how best to target official U.S. assistance. In addition, we have been contacted by many Libyan Americans anxious to make private contributions to relief efforts and we will work with Libyan authorities to direct those resources to where they are most needed."

Last week, the same storm system hammered the southeastern Mediterranean, killing at least 26 people in Greece, Turkey and Bulgaria, according to The Washington Post.

#nunyas news #say some prayers if that's your thing y'all

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