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valsdelulucorner · 25 days

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Imagine the brothers were mermaids

Ok but like, imagine instead of you going down to the devildom and meeting the brothers as demons, they were mermaids in the human world.

You were in a horrendous storm that completely destroyed your ship and killed all of your crewmates. You washed up on a deserted island and soon realized there were a few heads watching you from the water. After you calm down, Lucifer introduces himself and his 5 brothers, explaining that they saw you floating in the water face up and decided to save you. He then introduced you to his younger brothers, putting mammon in charge of taking care of you when your near the beach

There was a cove on the other side of the island that you were prohibited to go into, besides the only visible access to it was underwater, even then its blocked off by a large boulder. After hearing cries and begs from the cove, you looked around the top of the cove and found a small hole in the side of the rock, seeing another mermaid inside, Belphie.

After meeting him and making the pacts with the brothers, you manage to let him out by moving the large boulder infront of the enternece by using the powers of the pacts, and you know what happened when you let belphie out💀

Things happen after that, there was alot of tears and words but everything turned out well after the incident. Lucifer gave you a spell so you could breath after that though, hes not willing to have you suffocate and die after what happened with belphie

They all started to warm up to you after a while like in the actual story, growing a attachment to the pretty/handsome human they saved on the island. They may not be able to go onto land with you but after setting belphie free, you guys were able to set up a proper home that you all can share in the cove.

The cove is quite large with shallow pools littered around the area so the brothers can comfortably lay down without drying out but still allow them to be close to you. The dry parts of the cove is where they helped you make shelter by carrying in different resources for you to make a bed and stay warm at night. they are fascinated when you manage to find another way into the cove from land, fascinated by fire once your able to bring in dry wood

Once they start to grow more fond of you, you start to find more dead fish and shiny shells near your bed, not realising they are trying to court you more obviously. You still don't know why the others give each other the evil eyes for the day after you find a really shiny shell on your make shift pillow

. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Lucifer had deep red scales and a tail with a mix of red and black scales. His nails are sharp and his hands were covered in scales, running up his arms and ending at his elbow. He had red gills on his neck and in between his ribs. His fins were sharp-ish and the end of his tail was a nice pattern of red and black scales. The whites of his eyes were black while his pupils were red, slit irises. His tounge was a deep red aswell, teeth razor sharp like sharks. He took a shirt from a shipwreck and wraps it around his waist, tailoring it abit to make it actually a waist wrap and not just a shirt. Lucifer calls you his love

Mammon had vibrant yellow scales with his tail being a beautiful mix of yellow and white. His nails are less sharper then lucifer but still sharp, beautiful yellow scales littering his hands and ending at his forearm. He had dirty white gills around his neck while his gills on his chest were directly over each of his ribs. His fins are more flowy along the sides of his tail, his larger fin at the bottom of his tail being a beautiful mix of yellow, cream and white. The whites of his eyes were a bright yellow while his pupils were blue, thicker irises but still slits. His tounge is a nice shade of cream and his teeth are more like vampire teeth but with his bottom teeth having fangs aswell. He is covered in bangles and treasure, he pierced his own ears and tounge so he could use some of the jewelry. Mammon calls you his treasure

Leviathan has deep blue scales with his tail being a fade of purple blue at his hips to dark blue at the end of his tail. His nails aren't the sharpest out of the brothers but are can still be used as weapons, deep blue scales covering his hands and ending at just below his elbow. He has some scales littering his neck that complement his blue coloured gills, uneven gills along the underside of his ribs. He has a sea snake type tail, his fins being a nice, deep, translucent blue colour. The whites of his eyes are a nice light blue colour while his pupils are a orangey colour, the slits of his eyes being diamond shaped. His tounge is a purply blue colour, his tounge and teeth snake like. He found a ruri-chan bracelet after it fell off the side of a cruise ship and that bracelet has been on his wrist since, he's been on the hunt for anything else ruri-chan after that. Levi calls you his charm {ruri-chan ref}

Satan has some vibrant green scales with his tail being a mix of green and sea green scales. His nails are the sharpest of all the brothers while his hands are covered in green scales, running up his arm and ending at his bicep. He has deep green gills resting near the back of his neck, his gills being more near his back but still on his ribs. His fins are the sharpest out of his brothers and are a beatiful green colour, the fins at the bottom of his tail a mix of sea green and green. The whites of his eyes are a dark green while his pupil is a nice green, the irises of his eyes are spikey but still vaguely resemble slits. His tounge is spikey and deep green, his teeth alot sharper then Lucifer's, his teeth are made for shredding. He wears some silver jewelry on the tip of his fins to be able to lure fish in for dinner, he wears it more as a hunting tactic then a fashion statement. Satan calls you his darling

Asmo has the most gorgeous pink scales with his tail being a mix of cherry pink and raspberry pink. His nails are the dullest of the brothers but they are still lethal, his hands are littered with pretty pink scales that end at his wrists. His gills are a bright pink colour that are closer to the front of his jaw, the gills on his chest resting right under his ribs. His fins are very flowy and are such a beautiful shade of pink, the fins at the end of his tale is a beautiful cherry pink fading into a deep raspberry pink. The whites of his eyes are a shade of apricot pink while his pupils are a nice orangy pink colour, his irises in the shape of hearts. His tounge is a raspberry pink and his teeth are really dull. He is like mammon with the fact that he loves to wear beautiful jewelry he finds on shipwrecks, they make his beauty stand out. Asmo calls you precious

Beel has some vibrant orange scales with his tail being a mix of sunset orange and mandarin orange. His nails are quite sharp but are quite short, beautiful mandarin scales covering his hands and end at his shoulders. His gills are a nice orange that are right above his collar bone, his other gills resting right under his pectorals, on his ribs. His fins are abit rough but are a nice sunset orange colour, his fins at the end of his tail a mix of mandarin and sunset orange. The whites of his eyes are a deep orange colour and his pupils are a beautiful purple, his irises in the shape of little suns. His tounge is a deep orange colour while his teeth are lion like, his teeth are MADE for eating meat. He got a piece of rope he found off of a shipwreck and made a necklace for himself, having made a tail bangle for belphie so they match. Beel calls you his guppy

Belphie has some beautiful purple scales with his tail being a mix of Lavander purple and deep purple. His nails are second to asmos in being dull but can still cause alot of damage, soft purple scales littering his hands which end at his shoulders. His lavender gills are also placed right above his collar bone, his gills placed right under his pectorals aswell, matching beel. His fins are nice and flowy, the fins at the end of his tail a lovely mix of lavender and deep purple. The whites of his eyes are a deep purple which match well with his purple pupils, his irises shaped like little moons. His tounge is a mix of deep purple with the tip being lavander, his teeth being quite sharp but quite unnoticeable at first glance. He loves the little thing beel made for his tail, he never takes it off. Belphie calls you squishy

. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

woo, its mermay! Im sorry if their designs aren't described well or fit your own head cannon but i will try and make some visual designs for them! I will probably come back and edit this so it can make more scene

The top part is so ass but im planning on doing actuall head cannons for mermay, so please dont loose hope on me just yet

What should I do next?

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heartfullofleeches · 1 year

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Clownfish reader can be paired up with a few yans:

-Yandere Fisherperson who is a somewhat collector of rare finds of fish and has taken a liking to you so they keep you in a huge aquarium and keeps you there.

-Yandere Predator who was supposed to prey on you until they realized you were their perfect soulmate and decided to keep you for themselves whilst they hunt for you and keep you safe.

-Yandere Sailor who managed to stumble upon one of your performances that has them in a trance, They sail all over the seas just to find you and watch your performances until they were to capture you so you only perform for them and sail away with them.

-Yandere Kraken who has watched all of your performances and yet is somewhat jealous of the fact you still weren't theirs, They make sure to be at an appropriate distance that they can keep an eye on you and make sure you weren't frightened by them.

These are cheesy but meh, I still like the idea of Clownfish reader tho as long as they wear the orange black and white pattern as clown makeup.

(I combined the Predator + Kraken one because I felt they could work together)

Another shipwreck.

So many of those recently. You feared for, and even attempted to entertain stranded humans until better help arrived. This wreckage was completely devoid of life, and its content spilled along the sea floor - making it grounds for you to savage parts for future acts. It wasn't stealing if no one was around.

You swim through the wreckage collecting whatever catches your eye. Shiny jewelry, things you could use to paint your face with on the surface- What's that? You drop nearly your entire horde to pick up one object. A long strip of metal with holes and held together by straps of leather. You've seen humans play with something similar before, blowing air through the top to make such lovely sounds. You try it yourself, but all that comes out is jets of water through the otherside. Obviously not what you wanted, but it still amuses you. You sit on a nearby rock and trying again with a deeper breath, blissful unaware of your surroundings.

Such a cute little fool you were.

Well fed and lethargic, the creature watches its destined mate amuse themselves from the shelter of the dismantled ship. Dinner and a show were such a beautiful mix. That obvious angel was next on the menu at one point in time, but the creature's stomach just wouldn't settle right if it ate something so sweet. Instead, it chose follow them and their humorous act - falling mad with love by the day. How comforting it was to see them smile when pleased a crowd, and how righteous it felt to devour those who turned away their loves generosity though both groups met the same ill fate as soon as their bethroned looked away. With all this talk of food, it was about time it shared its bounty with its lover.

You pause to sniff the air as a faint scent wafts through the ocean sky. It's fish, and not the kind you're used to. It's that stuff in cans you've discovered in other shipwrecks that was somehow even better than that. You swim over without even putting danger into question. At the source you find that cans with their lids popped, and fillets of fish the humans must've cooked. The skin is a little mushy thanks to the water, but you're too hungry to care. You look around as something grazes your back, just missing the tendril that retreats into the ship as you dive back in for another bite.

Adorable as always.

#Clownfish reader #yandere oc #yandere #yandere x you #yandere scenarios #yandere imagines #yandere headcanons #yandere x reader #yandere blurb #yandere insert #Sea creature reader #Clown reader #yandere teratophilia #yandere monster

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officialclangen · 1 year

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CLANGEN: POTATO UPDATE

Clangen has updated! Cat and Sprite Changes: - New sprites for paralyzed, sick/injured, and newborn cats. - Separated vitiligo and points from white patches. It's now possible for a cat to have all three! - New vitiligo patterns: PHANTOM, MOON, and POWDER - New white patch pattern: PETAL - New eye colors: SILVER and BRONZE - New accessories: Nylon Collars (in all colors), and INDIGO and WHITE collars of all types! - New mask-based tortie system! Tortie patches can now be any color/pattern. - New tortie patch patterns: REDTAIL, DELILAH, MINIMALONE, MINIMALTWO, MINIMALTHREE, MINIMALFOUR, OREO, SWOOP, MOTTLED, SIDEMASK, EYEDOT, BANDANA, PACMAN, STREAMSTRIKE, ROBIN, ORIOLE, BRINDLE, and PAIGE. - Rare "Wildcard Torties", which bypass the normal rules for tortie patch color/pattern to allow for wacky combinations. - Smoke pelt colors have been slightly tweaked for consistency. GHOST smoke has been given lighter points. - New separate tint that is applied only to the white patch and point markings. - You can now favorite cats! You can toggle favorite cat indicators on the list and patrol screen. - Pregnancy is now a condition that may prevent cats from patrolling. - EXP limit has been increased, and the EXP levels have been renamed. - Apprentices now graduate based on EXP, rather than age. This can be turned off in settings, if desired. - Cats can now retire any time between 110 - 140 moons. - New prefixes, suffixes, and loner names! - Some prefixes and suffixes are now specific to your biome. - You can now override special rank suffixes for particular cats. - New randomize buttons on the change name screen. - Moved list of possible names to a .json for easier customization in compiled versions. - The code handling relationship events have been rewritten, and new types of relationship events are now possible. Relationship and Moon Events Changes: - New system for accessory moon events, alongside many new accessory events and possible "congratulatory" accessories after a cat gives birth. - There is now more variation in relationship initialization, which allows cats to have more varied relationships with their family. - Lots of new relationship events! - Group relationship events have been added. - Affairs have generally been made more common. - Lots of fun new moon events, including special events for medicine cats and elders with certain skills. Thoughts Overhaul: - Thought code has been reworked to be way more specific. - Cats can now have thoughts based on their status, age, backstory, and even permanent conditions! - This should also have fixed those pesky bugs where cats would think about dead or lost cats as if they were still around. - In light of this update, A TON of new thoughts were added. Other Significant Changes: - New auto-updater! The game will now alert you when a new version is available, and will update without the need to re-download. - New re-designed family page! More family relationships are now shown, and it's easier than ever to browse through a cat's lineage. - Save files are now stored in an OS-specific data directory. You will no longer need to move save files when updating. - Added a button in the settings menu to open the save data location in your file-explorer. - New backgrounds: Shipwreck and Crystal River - Revamped background: Gully - Overlapping cat sprites on the clan page has been reduced. Once two cats are on a single spot, that position is considered "full." - You can now choose the starting season when creating a new clan. - Most backgrounds have unique cat placements. - The appearance of the allegiances page has been changed, and descriptions have been updated to flow better. - On the allegiances page, kits will now be listed with their parent, if they have one. - Lots of new patrol artwork! - New error screen when saves fail to load, which gives more in-depth failure messages. - New custom cursor (it's a little paw!) - Lots of bugfixes and QOL tweaks!

#clan generator #clangen #clan gen #warrior cats #warriors #warrior cats generator #clangen announcement

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andr0nap · 11 months

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cowboy au worldbuilding with the thoma

as you can see im taking some creative liberties with the giant emu by making them more diverse bc canon isnt enough for me and i have the brainworms

extra notes below the cut

standard thoma:

the original thoma and most common type available

perfect for travel, can pull wagons or carry light cargo

fast with good stamina, fastest over short distances

friendly, intelligent, energetic and quick to learn

the most diverse in terms of colors, patterns and extra traits

well rounded in all departments (theyre like the AQ horses of trigun)

draft thoma:

uncommon outside of major cities (kept by specialized breeders)

used for construction work and long haul heavy cargo transport

gentle, patient and eager to work

not built for speed but can walk for days at a steady pace without rest

dense feather coat protects them from the heat and sand

expensive to maintain and keep due to their size

theyre a relatively new type that came from selective breeding

"wild" thoma:

actually feral (aka. previously domesticated), not wild

originating from lost/runaways that have not been in contact with humans for generations

rare and elusive with a small population, sometimes spotted living near shipwrecks

people will pay top $$ for their capture

begin to exhibit adaptive mutations that help them survive the wastelands

smaller and less fluffy than their standard counterparts

dont come in many colors, mostly bays, chestnuts and blacks

hardy with incredible endurance

very stubborn, temperamental and intelligent, cant be forced to do something they dont want (like donkeys)

rarely ridden, mostly kept for crossbreeding

cattle-type thoma:

related to the standard thoma but NOT the same species

common pack animal in caravans, sometimes ridden as a cheaper alternative to the standard thoma

mainly bred for meat, hide and eggs

kept in huge open range herds that travel along worm swarms for feeding

sometimes kept as a form for anti-worm pest control

keratin crests are lightweight and used for protection and display

ranchers will paint patterns on their crests as a form of identification

not the sharpest tools in the shed, tend to bite and trample people

#trigun #trigun stampede #cowboy au #worldbuilding #andr0art #i like speculative biology idk what to tell you #its the brainworms #sorry for the horrible handwriting btw #also ik that significant adaptive mutations take longer to appear than a 100 years #but lets say they adapt fast due to genetic modification #the implications of what seeds did after the fall to adapt to the wastelands fascinates me #since thoma arent native to no mans land iirc #did they just have them on board?#what ab other animals?#what kind of non-native wildlife is there #i know there are birds and like... a cat #<- still hasnt read trimax #everything i know has been obtained via tristamp and osmosis #also yes im bringing in the og thoma #diversity win!#i needed a substitute for cows so vash and wolfwood have something to herd for cash #living the cowboy dream baby!

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uwmspeccoll · 10 months

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Typography Tuesday

Richard J. Hoffman (1912-1989) was a long-standing letterpress printer and collector of type in the Los Angeles area from 1925 until his death in 1989. One of his final projects was this publication, When a Printer Plays, printed in 1987 at his shop in Van Nuys, California in an edition of 200 copies. The book is an historical presentation of fleurons and printers' ornaments with over 200 designs of his own invention made from individual pieces of foundry and monotype units that he collected over more than 50 years. California rare book dealer John Howell called When a Printer Plays Hoffman's magnum opus, noting that "Hoffman lavished the utmost care upon every detail of typesetting, arrangement, margins, proportions, multi-colored patterns, and illustrations."

Hoffman begins with Garamond and Granjon ornaments first designed in the 16th century and moves toward more contemporary ornaments by designers such as Bruce Rogers, Will Bradley, Thomas Maitland Cleland, David Bethel (Glint Ornaments), and Rudolph Ruzicka (Fairfield Ornaments). All the letterpress printers we know delight in creating borders and designs from typographic ornaments, and Hoffman quotes Bruce Rogers:

When my own time comes to be marooned on a desert island . . . instead of taking along the favorite volumes that most amateur castaways vote for, I think I shall arrange to be shipwrecked in company with a Monotype caster and a select assortment of ornamental matrices. The fascination and amusement . . . that can be got out of the almost numberless combinations of a few simple units would enable me to cast away for an indefinite period with great contentment.

Linotype Electra was used for the text in this book, with Deepdene for display. Our copy of When a Printer Plays is yet another donation from the estate of Dennis Bayuzick.

View more posts of type ornaments.

View other books from the collection of Dennis Bayuzick.

View more Typography Tuesday posts.

#Typography Tuesday #typetuesday #decorative type #type ornaments #Richard J. Hoffman #When a Printer Play #type display books #type specimens #type specimen books #ornamental type #fleurons #Bruce Rogers #Linotype Electra #Deepdene type #Dennis Bayuzick

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blueiskewl · 1 year

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500-Year-Old Shipwrecks With Porcelain and Wood Discovered in South China Sea

Hundreds of years ago, the Ming dynasty relied on maritime trade to import key goods from foreign countries.

Now, the discovery of two Ming-era shipwrecks in the South China Sea is giving experts a better idea at what that trade looked like.

The shipwrecks were discovered about 1 mile below sea level on the northwest slope of the South China Sea, according to a May 22 news release from the State Administration of Cultural Heritage via the Institute of Archaeology at the Chinese Academy of Social Sciences.

Here’s what archaeologists have found in the shipwrecks so far.

A TROVE OF PORCELAIN

Experts determined that the first shipwreck dates to the Zhengde period of the Ming dynasty — which lasted from 1506 until 1521.

The wreck was overflowing with porcelain goods, including bowls, cups, plates and jars in various glaze colors, officials said.

More than 100,000 relics, mostly made of porcelain, have been uncovered so far, and experts said they are spread across hundreds of thousands of square feet.

Photos from the discovery show stacks of porcelain pottery. Although most of the pieces are covered with sand and dirt, ornate, colorful patterns are still visible beneath the grime.

STACKS OF LOGS AND POTTERY

The second, older shipwreck dated to the Hongzhi period of the Ming dynasty — which lasted from 1488 until 1505.

At this site, experts found stacks of logs and some pottery, according to officials. The persimmon logs were all a similar size and were neatly stacked.

Further research revealed that the logs could have been intended for shipbuilding, experts said. Chinese literature indicates that most products used to build ships were imported from foreign countries, according to the release.

A UNIQUE DISCOVERY

Archaeologists said their discovery marks the first time ancient ships sailing and returning have been found in the same area, indicating that they were likely on an important trade route.

Experts will continue researching and monitoring the wrecks, and they hope to learn more about ancient maritime trade routes and cultural exchanges, they said.

By Moira Ritter.

#500-Year-Old Shipwrecks With Porcelain and Wood Discovered in South China Sea #ming dynasty #Ming-era shipwrecks #ancient artifacts #archeology #archeolgst #history #history news #ancient history #ancient culture #ancient civilizations #ancient china #chinese history #chinese art

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ausetkmt · 1 year

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Video shows migrants waiting before ill-fated migrant boat voyage

03:41 - Source: CNN

CNN —

The hull of the fishing trawler lifted out of the water as it sank, catapulting people from the top deck into the black sea below. In the darkness, they grabbed onto whatever they could to stay afloat, pushing each other underwater in a frantic fight for survival. Some were screaming, many began to recite their final prayers.

“I can still hear the voice of a woman calling out for help,” one survivor of the migrant boat disaster off the coast of Greece told CNN. “You’d swim and move floating bodies out of your way.”

With hundreds of people still missing after the overloaded vessel capsized in the Mediterranean on June 14, the testimonies of those who were onboard paint a picture of chaos and desperation. They also call into question the Greek coast guard’s version of events, suggesting more lives could have been saved, and may even point to fault on the part of Greek authorities.

Rights groups allege the tragedy is both further evidence and a result of a new pattern in illegal pushbacks of migrant boats to other nations’ waters, with deadly consequences.

This boat was carrying up to 750 Pakistani, Syrian, Egyptian and Palestinian refugees and migrants. Only 104 people have been rescued alive.

CNN has interviewed multiple survivors of the shipwreck and their relatives, all of whom have wished to remain anonymous for security reasons and the fear of retribution from authorities in both Greece and at home.

One survivor from Syria, whom CNN is identifying as Rami, described how a Greek coast guard vessel approached the trawler multiple times to try to attach a rope to tow the ship, with disastrous results.

“The third time they towed us, the boat swayed to the right and everyone was screaming, people began falling into the sea, and the boat capsized and no one saw anyone anymore,” he said. “Brothers were separated, cousins were separated.”

Another Syrian man, identified as Mostafa, also believes it was the maneuver by the coast guard that caused the disaster. “The Greek captain pulled us too fast, it was extremely fast, this caused our boat to sink,” he said.

The Hellenic Coast Guard has repeatedly denied attempting to tow the vessel. An official investigation into the cause of the tragedy is still ongoing.

Coast guard spokesman Nikos Alexiou told CNN over the phone last week: “When the boat capsized, we were not even next to (the) boat. How could we be towing it?” Instead, he insisted they had only been “observing at a close distance” and that “a shift in weight probably caused by panic” had caused the boat to tip.

The Hellenic Coast Guard has declined to answer CNN’s specific requests for response to the survivor testimonies.

Direct accounts from those who survived the wreck have been limited, due to their concerns about speaking out and the media having little access to the survivors. CNN interviewed Rami and Mostafa outside the Malakasa migrant camp near Athens, where journalists are not permitted entry.

The Syrian men said the conditions on board the migrant boat deteriorated fast in the more than five days after it set off from Tobruk, Libya, in route to Italy. They had run out of water and had resorted to drinking from storage bottles that people had urinated in.

“People were dying. People were fainting. We used a rope to dip clothes into the sea and use that to squeeze water on people who had lost consciousness,” Rami said.

CNN’s analysis of marine traffic data, combined with information from NGOs, merchant vessels and the European Union border patrol agency, Frontex, suggests that Greek authorities were aware of the distressed vessel for at least 13 hours before it eventually sank early on June 14.

The Greek coast guard has maintained that people onboard the trawler had refused rescue and insisted they wanted to continue their journey to Italy. But survivors, relatives and activists say they had asked for help multiple times.

Earlier in the day, other ships tried to help the trawler. Directed by the Greek coast guard, two merchant vessels – Lucky Sailor and Faithful Warrior – approached the boat between 6 and 9 p.m. on June 13 to offer supplies, according to marine traffic data and the logs of those ships. But according to survivors this only caused more havoc onboard.

“Fights broke out over food and water, people were screaming and shouting,” Mostafa said. “If it wasn’t for people trying to calm the situation down, the boat was on the verge of sinking several times.”

By early evening, six people had already died onboard, according to an audio recording reviewed by CNN from Italian activist Nawal Soufi, who took a distress call from the migrant boat at around 7 p.m. Soufi’s communication with the vessel also corroborated Mostafa’s account that people moved from one side of the boat to the other after water bottles were passed from the cargo ships, causing it to sway dangerously.

The haunting final words sent from the migrant boat came just minutes before it capsized. According to a timeline published by NGO Alarm Phone they received a call, at around 1:45 a.m., with the words “Hello my friend… The ship you send is…” Then the call cuts out.

The coast guard says the vessel began to sink at around 2 a.m.

The next known activity in the area, according to marine traffic data, was the arrival of a cluster of vessels starting around 3 a.m. The Mayan Queen superyacht was the first on the scene for what soon became a mass rescue operation.

Human rights groups say the authorities had a duty to act to save lives, regardless of what people on board were saying to the coast guard before the migrant boat capsized.

“The boat was overcrowded, was unseaworthy and should have been rescued and people taken to safety, that’s quite clear,” UNHCR Special Envoy for the Central Mediterranean Vincent Cochetel told CNN in an interview. “There was a responsibility for the Greek authorities to coordinate a rescue to bring those people safely to land.”

Cochetel also pointed to a growing trend by countries, including Greece, to assist migrant boats in leaving their waters. “That’s a practice we’ve seen in recent months. Some coastal states provide food, provide water, sometimes life jackets, sometimes even fuel to allow such boats to continue to only one destination: Italy. And that’s not fair, Italy cannot cope with that responsibility alone.”

Survivors who say the coast guard tried to tow their boat say they don’t know what the aim was.

There have been multiple documented examples in recent years of Greek patrol boats engaging in so-called “pushbacks” of migrant vessels from Greek waters in recent years, including in a CNN investigation in 2020.

“It looks like what the Greeks have been doing since March 2020 as a matter of policy, which is pushbacks and trying to tow a boat to another country’s water in order to avoid the legal responsibility to rescue,” Omer Shatz, legal director of NGO Front-LEX, told CNN. “Because rescue means disembarkation and disembarkation means processing of asylum requests.”

Pushbacks are state measures aimed at forcing refugees and migrants out of their territory, while impeding access to legal and procedural frameworks, according to the Berlin-based European Center for Constitutional and Human Rights (ECCHR). They are a violation of international law, as well as European regulations.

And such measures do not appear to have deterred human traffickers whose businesses prey on vulnerable and desperate migrants.

In an interview with CNN last month, then Greek Prime Minister Kyriakos Mitsotakis denied that his country engaged in intentional pushbacks and described them as a “completely unacceptable practice.” Mitsotakis is widely expected to win a second term in office in Sunday’s election, after failing to get an outright majority in a vote last month.

A series of Greek governments have been criticized for their handling of migration policy, including conditions in migrant camps, particularly following the 2015-16 refugee crisis, when more than 1 million people entered Europe through the country.

For those who lived through last week’s sinking, the harrowing experience will never be forgotten.

Mostafa and Rami both say they wish they had never made the journey, despite the fact they are now in Europe and are able to claim asylum.

Most of all, Mostafa says, he wishes the Greek coast guard had never approached their boat: “If they had left us be, we wouldn’t have drowned.”

#‘If they had left us be #we wouldn’t have drowned:’ CNN investigation raises questions about Greek coast guard’s account of shipwreck tragedy #greek coast guard #greece #brown skin #white privilege #racism in immigration #africans #european racism

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lullabyes22-blog · 1 year

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I know you've given us headcanons on Silco's peen, but can we have more details on them rest of him 😳😳😳

Pretty please?

My apologies for leaving this in the askbox for months. There's a big pile to sift through and never enough time.

Peen post is here.

Sundry Silco headcanons: Here, here and here.

Let us continue our proud tradition of objectifying the old man.

So: you've crossed the stage of maiden intimacies and been granted the privilege of disrobing the monster.

Lucky you (?)

First off, it's his habit to undress by himself. He's got blades and a garotte concealed somewhere on his person at all times. Also an incendiary or two. He'd rather not give away the hiding places - or give you a nasty shock.

Best to unveil our secrets piecemeal, hm?

Speaking of unveiling - he's a playful bastard. He also likes to talk while getting carnally acquainted. Expect idle banter during the striptease.

Let's start by taking the boots off, shall we? Nothing more ridiculous than a naked man in footwear. He wears ankle garters - typically with a two-inch blade hidden on the right. The socks might startle you - there are colorful acid green patterns of fishies on them.

A gift from Jinx. They're thermal too<3

His bare feet are curiously elegant: long and pale, nearly flipperlike, with interesting bumps in places from calluses and scars. You can tell this is someone who used to run around barefoot in muck as a kid, and spent the rest of his adulthood taking scrupulous care never to repeat the stupidity.

Next: off with the vest. And let's dispatch the bracers. He never tosses anything willy-nilly. It's all carefully folded and put away. In a rare mood - if he trusts you - he might let you fold the clothes.

And if you're a klutz, you'll get patient instruction.

"Not that way, dove. Hold it vertically and then tuck it in half lengthwise. Else the fabric will be wrinkled."

This is already proving an educational experience.

You can thank him later.

Next, off with the cravat. It's like watching a man twist out of a snow-white noose. How he breathes with the knot so tight is beyond you. Or maybe it's a reminder to never take each breath for granted?

If you're eagle-eyed, you'll notice that the edges of the cravat are a little stiff. That's where the garotte is concealed. It also doubles as a jimmy for picking locks or slipping past window latches.

Live and learn, eh?

Shirt next - and he'll make a show of it on request. A quick snap-snap to undo suspenders. A skittering dance of long fingers down the buttons. A lazy shrug so the material drops off one shoulder, than the other.

Waist-up, it's a shipwrecked swimmer's physique more than a sedentary ascetic's. Narrow boned and lanky, with a meshwork of distinct sinews under a thin stretch of scarred skin. The shoulderblades are sharply pronounced, the collarbones nearly sculpture-esque. They are also asymmetrical - the right one chipped after getting clubbed by an Enforcer's baton.

His arms are cordlike, and neatly muscled along the forearm and bicep. Trickledown veins on the wrists and the backs of the hands. Like his feet, they call to mind flippers on a deepsea creature.

No abs, but if he stretches the muscle groups will present themselves: a cobra's hood of latissimus muscle, a tummy that's still drumlike under a layer of softness, a jutting V of hipbones, and a snatched little waist.

What's your secret Silco?

"Not eating like a Council pig at trough."

Fair enough.

He doesn't have a lot of body hair: a sparse dusting on his arms, a fine thatch on the chest, and a happy trail that meanders south.

He's also got the tiniest outie belly-button. It's almost endearing.

"No. You may not poke it."

Spoilsport.

Well, time's a-wasting - and our man's pants are saluting. Let's doff those and show him the proper respect, shall we?

It's quite a feat of efficiency. One would think, between all the clasps and tight-fitting fabric, it would take decades to unshuck him. In fact, the broadfall - the buttoned front flap of his trousers - comes off with a few flicks of the wrist. No belt, just suspender loops, and a coordinated twist of movement gets his pants down, before he peels them off the rest of the way.

Were you expecting fishie underpants to match his socks?

Sadly, no.

It's not generic Fruit of the Loom boxer-briefs, either. He likes well-stitched fabrics, and undergarments are no exception. His favorite material is a type of cotton called ice silk: light, soft, breathable and easy to wash.

Also—

Whoosh.

Mind your head. A throwing blade just whizzed past your ear to embed itself with a thwock on the wall behind you.

He's got false pockets stitched inside his trousers. Just in case.

Once you've caught your breath, take a moment to admire The View.

The snake has shed his skin. Or at least peeled away the superficial layer.

All for you.

In clothes, he'd be easy to mistake for a bundle of sticks jointed together. Out of clothes, your only mistake would be underestimating how much damage he can do - and how fast.

His entire torso is crosshatched with scars. There are silvery razor wounds on his arms, and chemical burn scars mottling one shoulder blade, and a starburst-shaped cicatrix on his left shank.

His legs are probably his best feature - and his best kept secret. They're where he packs a majority of his muscle: the thighs all smooth sinew and the calves tight-packed from a lifetime of climbing unstable vertical spaces. He doesn't pack a lot of bulk in the upper-body. But his kicks are absolutely vicious.

Can - and has - stomped men's skulls in.

Like the rest of his body, his legs are riven with scars. Most distinctive is a divot gouged into the right shinbone from a mining accident. If you run your finger over it, you'll actually feel the hardness of shinbone beneath the scar-tissue.

Creepy.

Do our man got a booty? He do...ish. It's no cake, but it's not a pancake either. Maybe a bran muffin? He's the type who has sacral dimples - that smooth dip thing on the sides of the buttocks. Another set of dimples above them.

Vander used to call them Thumb Grips.

As with his legs, his arse has a few scars too. Most notable is a jagged slash from the lower back down to the left cheek. His own fault for turning his back on a man during a knife fight.

Altogether, the scars are nowhere near as bad as the devastation on his face - for which small mercy, much thanks to Janna. He wears none of them a Croix de Guerre.

Simply a byproduct of survival.

"War stories? Perhaps later. Else we'll be here all night." A lazy crook of the finger. "And I've better uses for our time."

Well?

What're you waiting for?

#asks #arcane #arcane league of legends #arcane silco #silco #silco headcanon #silco headcanons #arcane meta #arcane headcanons #arcane headcanon #fanfic #forward (never forget)/xoxo

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mariacallous · 2 months

Text

The ballistic missile hit the Rubymar on the evening of February 18. For months, the cargo ship had been shuttling around the Arabian Sea, uneventfully calling at local ports. But now, taking on water in the bottleneck of the Bab-el-Mandeb Strait, its two dozen crew issued an urgent call for help and prepared to abandon ship.

Over the next two weeks—while the crew were ashore—the “ghost ship” took on a life of its own. Carried by currents and pushed along by the wind, the 171-meter-long, 27-meter-wide Rubymar drifted approximately 30 nautical miles north, where it finally sank—becoming the most high-profile wreckage during a months-long barrage of missiles and drones launched by Iranian-backed Houthi rebels in Yemen. The attacks have upended global shipping.

But the Rubymar wasn’t the only casualty. During its final journey, three internet cables laid on the seafloor in the Bab-el-Mandeb Strait were damaged. The drop in connectivity impacted millions of people, from nearby East Africa to thousands of miles away in Vietnam. It’s believed the ship’s trailing anchor may have broken the cables while it drifted. The Rubymar also took 21,000 metric tons of fertilizer to its watery grave—a potential environmental disaster in waiting.

An analysis from WIRED—based on satellite imagery, interviews with maritime experts, and new internet connectivity data showing the cables went offline within minutes of each other—tracks the last movements of the doomed ship. While our analysis cannot definitively show that the anchor caused the damage to the crucial internet cables—that can only be determined by an upcoming repair mission—multiple experts conclude it is the most likely scenario.

The damage to the internet cables comes when the security of subsea infrastructure—including internet cables and energy pipelines—has catapulted up countries’ priorities. Politicians have become increasingly concerned about the critical infrastructure since the start of the Russia-Ukraine war in February 2022 and a subsequent string of potential sabotage, including the Nord Stream pipeline explosions. As Houthi weapons keep hitting ships in the Red Sea region, there are worries the Rubymar may not be the last shipwreck.

The Rubymar’s official trail goes cold on February 18. At 8 pm local time, reports emerged that a ship in the Bab-el-Mandeb Strait, which is also known as the Gate of Tears or the Gate of Grief, had been attacked. Two anti-ship ballistic missiles were fired from “Iranian-backed Houthi terrorist-controlled areas of Yemen,” US Central Command said. Ninety minutes after the warnings arrived, at around 9:30 pm, the Rubymar broadcast its final location using the automatic identification system (AIS), a GPS-like positioning system used to track ships.

As water started pouring into the hull, engine room, and machinery room, the crew’s distress call was answered by the Lobivia—a nearby container ship—and a US-led coalition warship. By 1:57 am on February 19, the crew was reported safe. That afternoon, the 11 Syrians, six Egyptians, three Indians, and four Filipinos who were on board arrived at the Port of Djibouti. “We do not know the coordinates of Rubymar,” Djibouti’s port authority posted on X.

Satellite images picked up the Rubymar, its path illuminated by an oil slick, two days later, on February 20. Although the crew dropped the ship’s anchor during the rescue, the ship drifted north, further up the strait in the direction of the Red Sea.

For three days, satellite photos show, the vessel largely stayed in place thanks to low winds and weak currents. Then, on February 22, satellite images show peculiar circular wave patterns hitting the ship, as seen in the image below. One former naval intelligence analyst familiar with the images, who asked not to be named for safety reasons, says this could be a sign the anchor may have come loose. One image, they say, appears to show an unidentified object, which could be a small boat, nearby.

Both the wind and currents picked up on February 23, when the ship began drifting for a second time, says Robert Parkington, an intelligence analyst with geospatial analysis firm Geollect. “As wind increases, as current increases, that chance for movement gets so much higher,” says Parkington, who monitored the Rubymar’s movements with data from satellite technology firm Spire Global. “Even a small breeze can have an impact on where the vessel’s moving.”

More than 550 internet cables run along the ocean floors and connect the world. They link continents and economies, beaming everything from Zoom calls to financial transactions every millisecond. Twelve of the cables run through the Bab-el-Mandeb Strait, says Alan Mauldin, research director at telecom research firm TeleGeography. “These cables vary massively in their age, also in their capacities,” Mauldin explains. The region is a crucial, but vulnerable, choke point.

While the Rubymar was drifting, three cables were damaged: the Seacom/Tata cable, a 15,000-kilometer-long wire running the length of East Africa and also connecting it to India; the Asia Africa Europe-1 (AAE-1), which snakes 25,000 kilometers and links Europe to East Asia; and the Europe India Gateway (EIG), made of 15,000 kilometers of cable and joining India with the United Kingdom.

The Seacom cable went down at 9:46 am on February 24, according to new analysis shared exclusively with WIRED by Doug Madory, director of internet analysis at the web monitoring firm Kentik. Five minutes later, at around 9:51 am, the AAE-1 cable dropped offline. Madory says the third damaged cable, EIG, was already mostly offline following a separate fault elsewhere. A telecom industry notice seen by WIRED confirms the three faults and says this was the EIG’s second. The notice says the damage is located around 30 kilometers away from where the cables land in Djibouti and are at depths of around 150 meters.

To determine when the cables lost connectivity, Madory examined internet traffic and routing data from multiple networks. For instance, a network linked to Equity Bank Tanzania, the analysis shows, lost connectivity from the Seacom cable; moments later, it was impacted by the AAE-1 damage. The two clusters of outages impacted countries in East Africa, including Tanzania, Kenya, Uganda, and Mozambique, Madory says. But they also had an impact thousands of miles away in Vietnam, Thailand, and Singapore. “The loss of these submarine cables disrupted internet service for millions of people,” he says. “While service providers in the affected countries have shifted to using the remaining cables, there exists a loss of overall capacity.” The analysis matches when the Seacom cable went offline, says Prenesh Padayachee, the company’s chief digital officer. Both AAE and EIG cables are owned by consortiums of companies, which did not respond to requests for comment.

The telecom industry builds backups into its systems to account for disruptions—and the approach mostly works. When one cable goes offline, traffic is sent via other routes. “Connectivity just went away,” says Thomas King, the chief technology officer of German-based internet exchange DE-CIX, which used the AAE-1 cables. “The issue was detected automatically. Rerouting happens also automatically,” King says. Other firms sent data on different paths around the world.

In the days after damage to the cables first emerged, one unconfirmed press report claimed Houthi rebels could have sabotaged the cables. There has been no public evidence to support this. Farzin Nadimi, a senior fellow at the Washington Institute think tank who has been monitoring the region, says it is most likely that the Rubymar damaged the cables, but Houthi sabotage should not be entirely ruled out, as “highly trained” divers could reach the cables’ depths. Telecom firms have reported fears about Houthi damage to cables, while Houthi spokespeople have repeatedly denied responsibility for the disruptions.

“We don’t even know if the cable is fully broken yet,” Padayachee says. “All we know is that the cable is damaged to a level where we’ve lost comms.” It could have been cut, or even dragged along the seabed and bent so light signals cannot pass through the cable, he says.

Many in the marine and cable industry have turned toward the Rubymar’s drift as the likely cause for the outage. Padayachee says it is the most “plausible” scenario given the ship’s predicted drifting speed. “If you work out the distance between the two cables that roughly relates to the same sort of timeframe as to when one cable will be affected to when the other cable will be affected,” the timing makes sense, he says, adding that the cables are 700 to 1,000 meters apart.

Anchor damage, alongside earthquakes and landslides, is one of the most common ways subsea internet cables are disrupted. For instance, multiple cables in the Red Sea region were damaged by a ship dragging its anchor in 2012. There are also several types of anchor, explain William Coombs and Michael Brown, professors at Durham University and the University of Dundee, respectively, who are researching the dynamics of anchors and how they can damage underwater cables. Some anchors sit on the seabed while others dig into the ground, they say. “If the soil type is not right, and the cable has quite shallow burial or it is on the seabed, you are going to catch it if your anchor starts to drag,” Brown says.

“Considering the timings of when outages were reported, considering the rough location of where those cables are known to be, and considering where we believe to be the location of the Rubymar, I would say that there is a likely possibility that the anchor did cause the damage,” says Parkington of Geollect.

The Rubymar finally sank on March 2. Videos reportedly taken inside the ship, gathered by Saudi state-owned news organization Al Arabiya English, show water gushing into the ship after the missile strike. As the Rubymar took on more water and partially submerged, experts say, its drifting likely slowed and eventually brought it to a complete stop.

While the ship has finished its journey, the three internet cables will remain offline for some time. Padayachee, from Seacom, says that the Yemeni government is likely to approve permits for the company’s repair plans in the next couple of weeks, with repairs to all three damaged cables possibly starting later in April.

Padayachee says that additional security measures are being put in place for the operation, but the repair work itself should be relatively straightforward. The repairs are taking place in water only a couple of hundred meters deep—shallow compared to other cases where cables are more than a mile deep. When the cables are pulled out of the water by the repair crew, it should be possible to say whether the cuts were caused by the anchor or deliberately.

The Rubymar presents one potential final challenge: Padayachee says the location of the cable damage is believed to be around one or two miles away from where the ship sank. “It doesn’t look like it will affect anything in the repair operation,” he says. “It could change by the time they get there: The vessel may have moved or, in fact, the vessel may have broken up and parts of it moved around.” The US Central Command has said the Rubymar also presents a “subsurface impact risk to other ships.”

The Houthi’s missile launches, meanwhile, don’t look like they will stop any time soon. Other ships have been damaged; lives have been lost, and those factors will impact repairs. “It's not something you usually see: trying to have a cable ship into those waters, recover the cable, make a repair, and then be able to return to port. It's a long process. It’s risky,” says Mauldin, from TeleGeography. The risk, for other internet cables, is a repeat of the Rubymar. “It is not out of the question,” Madory concludes in his analysis, “that we could have another vessel, struck by a missile, inadvertently cut another submarine cable.”

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rippleclan · 4 months

Text

RippleClan: Moon 22

Rustshade tried to confess his feelings to Fennelspot, but got rejected.

[Image ID: Fennelspot leaves Rustshade in the upper right corner. Graythroat stands behind Rustshade and says, “Too bad, Rusty.” Under her, it says LEVEL UP! VALUABLE INSIGHT -> TRUSTED ADVISOR.]

Rustshade was not the nervous sort. He could only remember three times where he was truly, distinctly nervous. First, when he admitted to WheatClan that he was one of the Ripple followers. Second, when Twinekit got sick. Third, when Locustseeker went on their mission and never came back. In each of those moments, Rustshade’s future hung in the balance. Was this one of those moments? Hard to say. But if things went well, the future he imagined looked pretty good.

There weren’t many cats in camp that late afternoon. Shadowdrop was out of camp with a few others, investigating a new monster-path the humans started following on the edges of the territory, beyond any of the Clans. Carnationspeckle was with Rattlekit, trying to convince the furless molly that she needed to keep her leather pelts draped over her if she wanted to stay warm and safe from the sun. Puddlespeckle was thankfully out on a begrudging walk with his daughter (he was the last cat Rustshade wanted around when he put his plan into action). The only other cats in camp were Fennelspot and Graythroat, huddled around the cleric’s grillstone.

The cleric’s grillstone was built in an offshoot of the camp where the heat wouldn’t endanger the shipwreck. It was a tamed fire built underneath a long, flat stone. When Rustshade approached, Fennelspot and Graythroat sat staring into a pot placed on the hot stone.. There was another pot sitting in the bigger pot that contained a dark bubbling mixture. Water filled the bigger pot and steam drifted overhead.

“What’s this?” Rustshade asked.

“We’re making wax,” Graythroat hummed with a playful twitch of her whiskers. “I found a big hive and all us caretakers agreed we could harvest it. I only got stung twice!” Sure enough, there were a couple spots on her flank covered in one of Fennelspot’s ointments.

“You’re lucky you aren’t one of those poor souls who die when they’re stung,” Fennelspot sighed. “Do you need anything, Rustshade?”

“I can wait until this is done,” Rustshade promised, taking a seat a couple tail-lengths away. A minute later, the pair seemed satisfied with their work. Graythroat kicked sand over the fire until nothing remained but smothered smoke.

“Once that cools,” Fennelspot explained, “we need to strain the beeswax through a filter Rabbitjoy weaved for me. That will collect the thick elements we don’t want. Then we will let the wax cool and I can melt it as needed.” He paused, thinking for a few moments, before adding, “In SlugClan, one of our artisans invented a way to craft leather so we could shield our mouths from heat and take pots off the grillstone immediately. Remind me when Rabbitjoy comes back that I want to speak to SlugClan about that.”

“Anything else?” Graythroat asked, stretching.

“I plan to cook some infusions later, so if you’ll help me prepare for that, I would be grateful,” Fennelspot said. He turned his focus to Rustshade, and once more the younger tom seemed caught by how Fennelspot’s eyes blended with the color of his fur to form a gorgeous pattern of ginger and white. “What was it you wanted to talk to me about?” Graythroat had been about to leave, but her ears stayed pointed toward the two, even as she pretended she was minding her own business. Oh well. It wasn’t like Rustshade wanted to hide his emotions.

“It’s not a medical issue, if you’re concerned,” Rustshade said with an awkward flick of his tail. “It’s a personal question. It’s about something us founders agreed on when we started RippleClan.” Fennelspot nodded, eyes serious and focused as he sat in front of Rustshade. “One of the big issues we wanted to change in this Clan was how clerics, like yourself, were forced to abstain from romance and parenthood due to a misguided belief about your connection to StarClan. RippleClan won’t follow that part of the Code of Clerics. As such, I was hoping you and I could give a relationship a chance.” Graythroat suffocated a poorly hidden gasp, masking it as a cough. Rustshade glared at her with enough fire in his eyes that Graythroat stepped away.

“A…” Fennelspot gulped, ears twitching rapidly.

“I haven’t won someone’s heart in a while,” Rustshade chuckled, whiskers twitching, “but we could take it slow. Perhaps a walk or two?” Fennelspot tensed. His eyes looked everywhere but at Rustshade. As the moments stretched on, Rustshade slowly realized that this wouldn’t end the way he hoped.

“It’s important to me that future clerics have the chance to be mates and parents,” Fennelspot said, “but I… swearing to that part of the Code of Clerics was important to me. It’s my choice to keep that oath. I wouldn’t be comfortable taking a mate, even with our Clan’s laws.” Rustshade nodded softly. His whiskers stilled and his face, as it so often did, betrayed nothing. Fennelspot shifted awkwardly, glancing for a way out. “I’m sorry, Rustshade. I’m going to prepare some herbs.” Fennelspot shuffled back toward the medicine den. Rustshade’s gaze stayed on him until he slipped into the shadows of the small boat.

“Too bad, Rusty,” Graythroat hummed. She had somehow slipped behind Rustshade during the conversation. “Don’t hold it against him. Knowing Fennelspot, he’ll probably try extra hard to not make you feel bad about it.”

“I don’t want your advice, Graythroat,” Rustshade muttered, walking past her. He headed for the empty warrior’s den. It was fine. It was a disappointment, but it was fine. He could live without Fennelspot. It was fine.

(Rustshade: 66, male, codekeeper, sneaky, learner of lore)

(Graythroat: 14, female, caretaker, fierce, trusted advisor)

(Fennelspot: 79, male, cleric, insecure, valuable insight, incredible runner)

Puddlespeckle scares Rattlekit with a story.

[Image ID: Carnationspeckle and Rattlekit stand together, facing Puddlespeckle. Carnationspeckle snaps, “Puddlespeckle!” To which Puddlespeckle says, “It’s good for her!”]

---

“It is said,” Puddlespeckle purred as Rattlekit sat in front of him, “that the Harvest Moon is the most dangerous day of the year. There is a reason the Clans gather for the whole day, Rattlekit. Without the protection of every star-fearing warrior, we would get pulled into the machinations of the Spirits of Shadow.”

“Is this a real story?” Rattlekit gulped, “or one of those stories Rabbitjoy makes up?”

“Maybe a little of both,” Puddlespeckle said. The pair lurked in the quiet elder’s den while the rest of RippleClan shared tongues outside. Rattlekit had discarded the leather pelt Carnationspeckle always made her wear to the side. Although Puddlespeckle’s joints creaked as he told the tale, there was a certain look of wonder in the furless kit’s eyes that kept him going.

“Carnationspeckle has told you about the Dark Forest, hasn’t she? That those cursed by StarClan spend their days there, chased by the memories of all they did wrong?” Rattlekit nodded. “Well, some of these cats grow to hate the living Clans and seek to meddle in the affairs of the living. They make up a number of what we call the Spirits of Shadow. They are forces beyond our living reality that seek to harm us and spread chaos. There are many, but when the Harvest Moon approaches, their powers grow with the coming of the autumn chill.”

“What can they do?” Rattlekit asked.

“Many things,” Puddlespeckle explained. His tail waved dramatically as he spoke. “The souls of the Dark Forest try to reach out to the living to further their own twisted plots. A skin ‘n bones will suck your stomach dry until you are so hungry, you eat your fellow cats. A wraith… well I don’t know if you can handle hearing about them.” With the mention of each dark spirit, Rattlekit’s copper eyes grew bigger and bigger.

“Rattlekit?” Carnationspeckle called from the clearing. “Where did you go?”

“I’m in here, Carnation!” Rattlekit yowled. Puddlespeckle grumbled and laid down. A few moments later, Carnationspeckle entered the den.

“Why are you making that face, Rattlekit?” Carnationspeckle asked, cocking her head as she spotted her adopted daughter’s huge eyes.

“Puddlespeckle says there’s a monster that makes you eat your friends,” Rattlekit gulped.

“Puddlespeckle!” Carnationspeckle snapped, drawing her tail around Rattlekit.

“It’s good for her!” Puddlespeckle insisted. “She’ll be an apprentice in less than a moon. She can handle some scary stories.”

“You never entertained me with stories as a kit,” Carnationspeckle muttered. She studied Puddlespeckle carefully, but the old tom couldn’t care less what she thought.

“Well I didn’t entertain anyone when you were a kit,” Puddlespeckle huffed. “Maybe a few moons in RippleClan have softened me up a bit.” Carnationspeckle draped Rattlekit’s leather back over her.

“It’s almost time to sleep,” Carnationspeckle sighed. “Hopefully you don’t have any nightmares tonight.” Carnationspeckle nudged Rattlekit out of the den. Rattlekit looked helplessly at Puddlespeckle, but a simple nod from the elder seemed to assuage her worries. The two mollies left Puddlespeckle alone in the elder’s den once more.

Oh well, he thought as he settled deeper into his nest. That was the life of the Clan elder, he supposed.

(Puddlespeckle: 148, male, elder, strict, good hunter, good kitsitter)

(Rattlekit: 5, female, kit, insecure, plays with prey)

(Carnationspeckle: 24, female, caretaker, compassionate, talented swimmer)

Applepelt ventures out on patrol soon before a massive flood.

[Image ID: Oilstripe faces Applepelt, who is now a StarClan cat. Applepelt says, “Oh… I didn’t get out, did I?”]

---

It had been a brutal storm. The waves crashed so high that they nearly reached the shipwreck. Downstar evacuated the dens closest to the water, which included the nursery. Oilstripe huddled beside Carnationspeckle and Rattlekit in the packed apprentice’s den as rain pummeled the sand outside. Fennelspot kept worrying that the rain would leak through the shipwreck and ruin his stores. Scrubmask practically had to hold him back to stop him from running to the medicine den.

When the storm finally passed, a tree not far from camp laid on its side, budding branches reaching toward camp. Weedfoot and Downstar split the Clan into teams; one to clean up the camp and the other to take care of the tree. After all, everyone in RippleClan had been in camp during the storm.

Everyone but Applepelt.

Oilstripe paced around the trees as the rest of her team harvested the fallen tree for resources; after all, why let a tree go to waste when it had bark and buds and other things to support RippleClan? Oilstripe couldn’t focus, though. Fennelspot stood nearby as she gazed out, searching for signs of brown fur.

“Fennelspot, what if she’s hurt?” Oilstripe groaned. “We should go out and look for her.”

“The storm hasn’t been over long,” Fennelspot reminded her, glancing at the dark clouds. “She could still be sheltered somewhere.”

“I hate waiting,” Oilstripe muttered, sitting on the soaked grass. Fennelspot sat next to her and groomed her ear.

“Oilstripe!” a familiar voice called. Oilstripe shot up. A moment later, a brown figure hurried through the trees.

“Applepelt!” Oilstripe gasped. “There you are! What were you thinking, staying out in a storm like that?” Oilstripe and Applepelt met halfway. Applepelt panted and shook out their fur.

“I didn’t think the storm would be that bad,” they laughed. “Oh, you should have been there, Oilstripe. I was at the Great Northern River when the storm hit. It was beautiful, in a frightening way. The waters surged up and rumbled toward the ocean. I was so caught up in watching it, I fell right in!” Applepelt must have noticed the look of horror on Oilstripe’s face, as they quickly stammered, “Oh, don’t worry! It was terrifying for a while, and I think I passed out, but I woke up on the shore! I feel great! I can’t believe I got out! Do you think Rattlekit will be impressed?”

“Let’s have Fennelspot look you over first,” Oilstripe sighed. “Fennelspot…” She looked back at Fennelspot and the words faded before they formed. He watched her with big, pitiful eyes. His wet fur sagged and his ears drifted to the side.

“Oilstripe, I don’t see her,” he gulped. A cold weight settled on Oilstripe’s chest. She turned back to Applepelt. Her fur was too dry to have just come out of the river. As she looked, she realized that she could see the grass through Applepelt’s body.

“Oh…” Applepelt said softly, “I didn’t get out, did I?” Stardust climbed up their legs. Their fur glittered in the dull light and their eyes shone like stars. In a few moments, they looked like every other StarClan spirit that wandered through RippleClan’s camp.

“Apple…” Oilstripe gasped. A gentle twinkle filled her ears. Twinekit slipped out from behind a tree beside Oilstripe and Applepelt.

“It’s alright, Applepelt,” Twinekit promised. “I’m here to take you to StarClan.”

“So you are real,” Applepelt muttered. Her voice had never been so dull before.

“We won’t hold it against you,” Twinekit chuckled.

“I…” Applepelt gulped. She cleared her throat and braced herself to meet Oilstripe’s eyes. “Looks like I’m off, then. Take care of Rattlekit for me, I… I was hoping to mentor that little freak of nature.” She had to clear her throat again before her grief overtook her voice. “I’m sorry we didn’t spend much time together. Uh, if it helps, I remember those stories you told me, about StarClan watching over us. I’ll be doing that.”

“It’ll be like you never left,” Oilstripe said quietly. Applepelt hesitated, glancing between Oilstripe and Twinekit.

“On to the next adventure,” they said, unable to hide a crack in their voice. Twinekit trotted deeper into the forest. Applepelt closed their eyes and raced after Oilstripe’s long-dead sister.

Oilstripe blinked, and they were gone.

(Oilstripe: 26, female, historian, charismatic, ghost sight)

(Fennelspot: 79, male, cleric, insecure, valuable insight, incredible runner)

(Applepelt: 31, she/they, historian, rebellious, lore keeper)

(Twinekit: 2, female, kit, noisy, quick to help)

#i want to apologize to the oil and apple shippers #warrior cats #clangen #rippleclan #warriors #rippleclan story #oilstripe #applepelt #fennelspot #rustshade #graythroat #puddlespeckle #carnationspeckle #rattlekit #twinekit

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apocalypticavolition · 3 months

Text

Let's (re)Read The Great Hunt! Chapter 48: First Claiming

Today has not been good so let me summarize:

This post contains lots of spoilers.

Specifically the spoilers are for Wheel of Time.

ALL OF IT

Don't read if you don't want those.

We have the Dragon's Fang symbol because Rand has been marked as the Dragon in a variety of ways.

And there was something drawing her on, as surely as if she had a string tied to her.

Poor Min is already being strangled by the red strings of fate.

She did not blame Bayle Domon for not waiting longer, not after what she had seen; she thought it a wonder he had remained so long.

Makes me wonder why we looked in to see him still waiting resolutely when we could have looked in to see him finally decide to give up.

Silver glittered as the figure raised a bow; a streak of silver lanced to the boxy ship, a gleaming line connecting bow and ship. With a roar she could hear even at that distance, fire engulfed the foretower anew, and sailors rushed about the deck.

Birgitte is a badass. I really don't have anything else to say about it. She's just that cool.

She pried his hand open, and winced when the hilt stuck to his palm. She tossed it aside with a grimace. The heron on the hilt had branded itself into his hand.

It's funny that the prophecy mentions the Dragons and the Herons as twice markings but not the double unhealing wounds on his side. It can't be that Fain sidestepped fate there - otherwise Rand would not have been able to cleanse saidin on schedule - so one wonders what the deal is. Just the lack of a cool animal?

What shook her was the feel of his flesh. It had a touch of ice in it; he made the air seem warm.

Medically speaking that's pretty terrible.

With a put-upon sigh, she wriggled under the covers beside him.

This really is how you treat hypothermia, though technically speaking you're supposed to remove as much clothing as possible first to encourage thermal exchange. It's basically the only time you can remove an unconscious person's clothing and get into bed with them without being a bad person so I'm disappointed that Min's not taking full advantage of the situation.

Light, why did the Pattern have to catch me up with you? Why couldn’t I have something safe and simple, like being shipwrecked with no food and a dozen hungry Aielmen?

That's pretty racist, Min. And you probably would have been as safe as a starving person could be; I expect the Aiel would find it bad form to cannibalize someone.

“I—I felt him pulling at me. Needing me. Elayne felt it, too. I thought it must be something to do with—with what he is, but Nynaeve didn’t feel anything.”

Odd that Egwene is being tangled up in the red string of fate too. Funnier still that the Wheel doesn't point the healer at Rand, though perhaps she wouldn't have been able to stay angry at the sight of him.

Egwene looked at her for what seemed a long time. Not at Rand, not at all, only at her.

Egwene is clearly struggling between the understandable urge to scream "He'll go mad and kill you!" at Min to punish her petty comments and the desire to not think about Rand that way. Also she's fucking exhausted and just spent some time a slave, so Min's really not being cool here.

Light, I don’t even know if I am the one you’ll choose. I don’t know if I want you to choose me. Or will you try to dandle all three of us on your knee?

Not gonna lie but with how this particular polycule plays out I honestly wouldn't have minded if Rand had just tried to be a player with each gal in turn (maybe circling back to Elayne towards the end). Just for Min's sake, since she's the one who doesn't really fit in the rest at all and would probably prefer to be a FWB followed by being out the door.

Ishamael thinks he controls events, but I do.

Bold claim from somebody who...

*checks notes*

...fucked around with Rand on one occasion and had virtually no influence over him. Lanfear is incredibly high on her own supply.

“Lews Therin was and is mine, girl. Tend him well for me until I come for him.” And she was gone.

Least realistic part of this. Lanfear would have insta-gibbed Min for the sin of touching her man.

The legion was dead, Lord Captain Geofram Bornhald was dead, and there was only one explanation for that; Darkfriends had betrayed them, Darkfriends like that Perrin of the Two Rivers.

It's incredible how close to right Byar is while still being utterly wrong on all counts. Anyway, this is another odd aside in that we pretty much already knew that he was going to go tell the Whitecloaks that Perrin was responsible. Ah well.

Next time: Double feature! Chapters 49 and 50!

#let's read #wheel of time #wot #robert jordan #wheel of time spoilers #wot spoilers #min farshaw #birgitte #rand al'thor #egwene al'vere #lanfear #jaret byar

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bookishfeylin · 7 months

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I was looking through your recent reblogs, and I wanted to ask specifically about the issue of framing. You’ve written extensively on how Rhys and Tamlin fail as foils (and I agree), but I’ve repeatedly seen the argument that because the author *meant* only Tamlin to be an abuser, Rhys canonically *can’t* be abusive. As well as the fact that Feyre is happy/forgave Rhys. Therefore: Tamlin’s red flags form a pattern, while Rhys’ “bad acts” cannot by definition be abusive, and are unrelated incidents of a good person making mistakes. Is there any credence to this? What do you think of the idea of there being only one way to read a text? Of having to imagine the author on your shoulder telling you how to appropriately feel about what is written, and that any alternative interpretation is wrong because that wasn’t what was “meant,” that the reader has to therefore be dumb and/or simply wants the story to be different than it is, and so interprets it that way? Is there a “correct” way to enjoy a story?

I spent a while on this ask because I think it’s a complex question with no easy answer, so I’m sorry for the wait 😅

An author can have whatever intentions they want when they write a piece of media, but once it's no longer confined to their, uh, imagination, and is actually out in the world, they can’t necessarily dictate how other people to engage with the text. The context of their society's culture and time period and the individual experiences of the audience are always going to impact how a work is interpreted, understood, and the impact it has on the culture at large. An author may not mean to incorporate certain stereotypes or write harmful tropes, for example, but if they make all the Black people villains to an all white cast of heroes and they kill off all the gay people while all the straight couples get to live happily ever after, their intentions are kind of irrelevant—they objectively wrote and perpetuated harmful ideas. And furthermore, media doesn’t stop being engaged with or enjoyed when the creator dies, and not all media engagement is meant to agree with the intended message. Sometimes we read and analyze books to argue that the author's worldview was wrong or to argue that their messaging is flawed. (One example that comes to mind is an article I recently read about Lord of the Flies and how the author was wrong because humanity is NOT inherently violent based on discoveries of a real life shipwreck of some teenage boys who, left alone on an island, actually cared for each other and survived together until being rescued, unlike the insanity of Lord of the Flies. I wish I could remember the name of the article I read that discussed this, but I suggest looking into it!)

So no, there is no one correct way to engage with media, and an author's intentions, while certainly meaningful, and definitely eye opening into their thought process, are not necessarily the sole truth.

Now as for ACOTAR specifically: if the sole metric for abuse is not the actual behavior itself, but rather whether the author thinks the character is abusive, the story fails as a discussion of abuse and red flags. If something is abusive only because the author has decided, in their subjective opinion, that it is abusive, and something is not abusive because the author has decided it is not, then no analysis of abuse or red flags can be made because the author is not trying to actually comment on domestic violence but rather is using domestic violence as a convenient plot device to demonize the characters they don’t like. I’ve mentioned before many a time that the same standards that are used to render Tamlin and/or Nesta abusive also would render Rhysand and Co abusive as well were these standards applied uniformly to every character. But the author and stans alike refuse to. And if they want to do that, then fine! But don’t declare this work as a feminist one discussing domestic violence and abuse, and don’t proclaim that all people who like certain characters and ships support abusive behavior if there is no clear standard for abusive behavior outlined in the books. And that’s the problem a lot of fans fall into.

#Ask #acotar analysis #Anti acotar #anti acomaf #acotar critical #sjm critical #anti sjm #anti rhysand #anti feysand

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ltwilliammowett · 1 year

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Signal Flares

Even if this invention goes back to a man, we have a woman to thank for the fact that they are used at all. Pyrotchnic flares were invented by Benjamin Franklin Coston, but he died before he could give them to the US Navy. His wife Martha Jane Coston (born 1826) eloped with him at the age of 16 and married him early. Benjamin quickly became a naval scientist for the U.S. Navy's scientific laboratory in Washington, D.C. At the Washington Navy Yard, he developed a signaling rocket and a percussion primer for cannons. Due to a disagreement with the Navy, he left that post in 1847 and joined a gas company, but had long been battling health problems from the chemicals he had been working with. This led to his death in November 1848.

Martha Jane Coston (1826-1904) (x)

It was Martha who attended to his affairs and found a note on the subject of night signals. However, it was only a note and not elaborated and so she did for the next 10 years. With limited knowledge of chemistry and pyrotechnics, she relied on the advice of hired chemists and fireworks experts - with mixed results. Her breakthrough came in 1858 when she watched the fireworks in New York City to celebrate the completion of the transatlantic telegraph cable. She realised that her system needed a light blue flare in addition to the red and white signal flares she had already developed. She formed the Coston Manufacturing Company to produce the signal flares and entered into a business relationship with a pyrotechnic developer to procure the necessary blue colour.

(x)

On 5 April 1859, she was awarded US Patent No. 23,536 and sold this for $20000 for a pyrotechnic night signal and code system. Using different colour combinations, ships could communicate with each other and with the coast. But the patent was granted to her as executor of the estate of her late husband, who is named as the inventor. Captain C.S. McCauley of the U.S. Navy recommended the use of their beacons to Secretary of the Navy Isaac Toucey in 1859. After extensive tests that proved the effectiveness of the system, the U.S. Navy ordered an initial set of 300 flares and later placed an order for $6,000 worth of flares. However, she then secured the patent in Europe.

(x)

In 1871, however, she introduced her own system of different colours and patterns, which allowed ship-to-ship and ship-to-shore communication and sold the signals to navies, ship owners and yachts around the world.

Eventually, in the USA, every United States Life-Saving Service station was equipped with Coston flares, which were used to signal ships, warn of dangerous coastal conditions and call surfers and other rescuers to a wreck. Many accounts of shipwrecks and rescues describe the use of the Coston flare, which helped save thousands of lives. Although Martha Coston died in 1904, her company, later renamed the Coston Signal Company and Coston Supply Company, continued until at least 1985.

These flares are still used today:

White flares are used to warn other ships of a boat’s position in order to avoid collisions. They are also useful for illuminating the water by night if there is a man overboard.

Orange distress flares are designed to be used for distress calls in daylight as they are easier to see than red flares due to the substantial clouds of orange smoke that are produced.

Red distress flares are used only in an emergency that requires immediate assistance. Because of their meaning, it is illegal to fire or ignite a red flare either on the water or along the coast in order to prevent calling out emergency services for lesser reasons. Red distress flares are used mainly at night because they are easier to see in darkness.

#naval history #signal flares #martha jane coston #19th century #age of sail #age of steam

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hom3landr · 2 years

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Cuddle List Prompt #29

-Putting ear over their heart

Disclaimer: I meant this to be fluff but it’s mainly angst.

You hurt.

That’s all you can process right now. You can’t pinpoint the type of hurt. You don’t know whether it’s a sting or a throb. You just know that it hurts.

—————

You’re moving.

You can feel it now, that flip in your stomach you get whenever you fly. Is that what you are doing? If you’re flying then that means…

—————

Everything hurts again and you are still. You can focus on the pain now. You can unravel it. If you can find the source, you can figure out what happened. The world is dark, your eyes too heavy to open. Every breath feels like a marathon. You hear a woman’s voice and then a man’s and something tingles in the back of your brain. You try to focus on the noise until…

—————

OUCH

It’s not the pain this time. Your eyes open and the light feels like agony. You shut them, preferring to retreat to the black abyss that has cocooned you. In the split second, before the darkness wraps around you like a blanket, you see a figure draped in

stars

That’s your last thought before you are gone again. You miss the sight of stars.

—————-

Your hands are warm. At least…you think they are your hands. It’s hard to pinpoint anything anymore. It all seems to fade the moment you grasp onto something. No…you’re sure this time. Your hands are warm. You celebrate this simple thought. Your hands are warm.

—————-

The light is back, stinging and burning. You don’t run away this time. What is one more hurt in the wake of everything else? You stare at the white nothingness before you. Except it isn’t nothingness. You squint your eyes. It’s ceiling tile. This thought fills you with more pleasure than it should. The ceiling tile is real…which means you are real. You try to wiggle your fingers but there still seems to be a disconnect. Your hands aren’t warm anymore. They aren’t warm but there is ceiling tile. You think you’d prefer the warmth.

——————

You don’t remember closing your eyes again. Yet, in the second it took to blink, the world is dark again. You can still make out the ceiling tile. Your hands aren’t warm but you can feel the softness of the blanket under them. You try to turn your head. You want to see where you are. Your body cooperates but there is a price. Your old friend pain is back with a vengeance. Still, your tired muscles shift and creak, and you feel like you’ve made real progress.

Stars

The stars are back but they are real stars this time. You feel like you could reach out and touch them. You think your finger twitches and…there it is. There’s the warmth you’re craving. You relax into it. You relax into it so much that you don’t even notice the voice calling your name until you’ve drifted back out into the dark.

——————-

John

The name pops into your jumbled mind. You aren’t sure what it means. You can tell by the way that your chest aches that it’s important.

——————-

Your whole body is warm now. It’s warm, warm, warm. It’s warm and soft and…loud? That isn’t right. Your body isn’t loud. The noise is under you. It’s under your ear and it echoes in a steady thump thump thump. You don’t want to move but you have to try. The first step is to open your eyes.

So you do

The first thing you notice is that you aren’t facing the tile this time. You just see blue, endless blue. Except…it’s not just blue. Your brain is still slow and groggy. It takes you a moment to realize that you’re looking at fabric. The fabric is textured, and there’s a faint pattern running throughout. You want to touch it but you still can’t quite figure out how to make your arms work.

In the back of your mind, you can hear it.

JohnJohnJohnJohn

You don’t know what it means. You want to know what it means. You have to know what it means.

You can pinpoint the pain now. It’s in your chest, it aches and burns when you breathe. It throbs. You want it to stop but you also cling to it the same way you’d cling to a piece of shipwreck if you were drowning.

You realize the warmth is coming from the blue figure. Your brain attempts to fill in the blanks. It’s moving…no. It’s breathing. You’re in bed and there’s someone warm beside you.

That’s where the noise is coming from. You can hear it. You know what it is now. It’s a heartbeat.

You’re in a bed, there’s someone warm beside you, and you can feel their heartbeat. You like this. It’s like a game. You have to figure out all the clues before the darkness comes back again. So far, you’ve solved three.

The synapses in your brain fire and you convince your neck muscles to tilt up until you can see the face of your mystery companion. Your eyes skim over every feature, logging it so you can recognize them if you ever need to find your way back. They’re very handsome. That’s the first thing you notice. Your heart gives a little twitch in your chest. How did you end up with such a handsome man in your bed? You add to your tally.

You’re in a bed, there’s someone warm beside you, you can feel their heartbeat, and they are handsome.

You wonder who he is. You wonder how he ended up here. Is he hurt too? He doesn’t look hurt. He looks like the most beautiful thing you have ever seen.

“John” you whisper, your voice cracked and raw from disuse. You don’t know why you say it but it sounds right. The figure twitches and bleary eyes open.

There’s blue, always more blue, this time looking right through you. His face can’t show exhaustion, his indestructible body is impervious to the physical ravages of grief and little sleep. His eyes can. His eyes hold all of that pain and worry. He doesn’t feel fear often but he’s grown familiar with the feeling ever since he started carrying his heart outside of his chest. He wants to melt your bodies together and keep you safe so you could fill that empty neediness inside of him.

It only takes a second before he’s breaking through the haze of sleep and holding your face in his hands so gently that you might as well be made of glass. He whispers your name like a prayer. You’re still not sure where you are or how you got here. You are still piecing your own identity together in your mind. But you let him hold you so close, his hands shaking with restraint. If he held you as tight as he wanted to, he’d end up shattering you with his love.

You’re still…rattled, to say the least. You feel like you have one foot in reality and one that’s still slipping back into the dark. You know this man now. You know he’s yours. You don’t remember much else.

“Took you long enough,” John whispers, his lips twitching into a wry smile that contradicts the tears pricking at the corners of his eyes. He thought he’d lost you.

You wish you had a cheeky reply to give him. You don’t. You have no idea what to say.

“What happened?” You rasp. You faintly remember flying and then pain…and the darkness. For a split second, you regret asking because John’s face twists into such an expression of fury that you half expect to burst into flames by sheer proximity.

“We were flying and I stopped because you wanted to look at some ruckus happening down below. When I got closer, you were distracting me and when I heard the gunshot I didn’t…” Every word is a struggle. He can’t bear the responsibility. He can’t make himself admit that you had been shot while he was supposed to have been protecting you. He twists it and shifts the burden to you. If you hadn’t been distracting him then this wouldn’t have happened. Still…it eats and eats at him.

You remember now. There had been a fair in Central Park. John had been flying you back home and you begged him to stop. You wanted to watch from above so he flew you closer so you could see. He was complaining and you were teasing him…and then there was nothing but pain.

“I’m sorry,” you admit, not for distracting him but for leaving him alone for so long.

“The bullet managed to shatter some of your ribs and collapsed your lung. They took out the chest tube yesterday” He provides, still haunted by the sight of you. He could see all the damage done to your body but he was helpless to fix it. He’d felt so…weak watching the doctors work to save your life while he could only stand and watch.

You suddenly notice that you’re both lying in a hospital bed. John is tucked around you protectively in the small space. It can’t be comfortable for him but he doesn’t seem to mind. What does shock you is the location you’re in. You recognize it instantly. You’re home in John’s penthouse. Vought must have set you up here, no doubt because of John’s insistence. He needed you with him at all times. He didn’t want you waking up somewhere cold and impersonal. He never liked hospitals, they remind him too much of the lab.

“How long have I been out?” You ask tentatively, not sure if you want the answer.

“You’ve been in and out for about five days. Today is the first time you’ve been lucid.” He answers, his fingers stroking your face as though he can’t believe you’re real. You want to ask if he knows who shot you or why. Was it intentional or merely an unlucky misfire into the air? You can feel the question on your lips but the exhaustion in his eyes stops you.

Trying to move is agony but you fight through it so you can fit yourself even more snugly against his body. You lay your head on his chest and there it is again. The steady thump of his heartbeat warms you more than any blanket ever could. It reminds you that you are safe.

You’re in a bed, there’s someone warm beside you, you can feel their heartbeat, they are very handsome, and you are safe.

You chuckle softly to yourself. You’ve solved it. You’re home.

He doesn’t ask what you find amusing. He’s too busy getting drunk off the steady beating of your heart, the warmth of your skin, and your lovely eyes that he had feared might never look at him again. He inhales your scent like a drug.

“I love you,” you whisper.

He doesn’t answer. You don’t need him to. You can hear his answer in his heartbeat.

#homelander #x reader #homelander x reader #homelander fanfiction #tw injury #injured reader #this was a cuddle prompt #alas brain said make it sad

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