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#never in my life have i had a project that required the use of a bottle
queers-gambit · 2 months
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Now and at the Hour of His Death
prompt: any who say, "it's better to have loved and lost than never to have loved at all," were never loved by him.
pairing: Osferth x female!pregnant!wife!reader
fandom: The Last Kingdom
word count: 6.1k+
note: fuck you, Netflix.
warnings: you already know - author needs therapy, projects hard, pregnant wife, Lord’s name in vain, Christianity (obviously), and a fuck ton of fucking ANGST because fuck your feelings. hurt NO comfort, drama, oneshot, cursing, canon-typical violence, injury, and blood. character death and spoilers - yeah, i'm giving you THAT scene. requires maturity and caution. good luck.
also please note: NO, i do not age Osferth to be 16 - that's just a reference age for when he eventually runs away from the monastery.
again, you are missing nothing if this upsets or triggers you and you choose to skip. value your wellbeing, my angels. author is not responsible for the media YOU choose consume, but still, as usual, MDNI
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"You should not be doing this sort of work," Ingrith's voice scolded you, and when you turned, you saw the blonde woman standing with her hip cocked and a stern expression. "It's bad for your health to be in such filth, we've stable boys for this sort of chore."
"I do not mind," you sniffled in the brisk air, shoveling the horse shit of the stable into a muck bucket to be dumped into the fields later. "It keeps me busy," you grunted lightly, sure to bend your knees when lifting the pitchfork, "keeps me humble," you listed, dumping the waste to grin at your friend, "and keeps me young."
"In what way?"
"Reminds me of my childhood," you eased, continuing your work. "I slept in a stable from the ages of 4 to... Oh, shit, I guess I was about 16 before I left The Loft."
"What?" She breathed in confusion. "Never knew that."
"Yeah, yeah, true story," you beamed at her, still shoveling shit. "I slept in the stalls with the horses, sometimes in the grain rooms - basically anywhere I could since my work didn't include official room and board, so, I had to make do with what was available. Then, one day when I was about ten, Old Man Rivers said I could use the hay loft if I cleared it out, fixed the rotten planks. Stayed up there till I was about 16, and after that, I kinda ran away."
"Old Man Rivers?"
You nodded, "My mother lived on his homestead, but she was real sick, you see. So, he kinda took me in without assuming responsibility for me," you cleared your throat, shrugging, "let me stay in his barn if I worked with the horses and livestock for him."
"Why would you want to be reminded of that?"
"Seems simpler when I look back."
Ingrith sighed, "C'mon, put the pitchfork down. Come help me prepare the rabbits. The scouts say the men aren't too far off, they'll want a hot meal."
You chuckled with ease and set your pitchfork aside, giving a hearty pat to one of the horse's necks as you passed by to exit the stable. Ingrith made sure you washed up before you were both mounting rabbits on the rack to start skinning them.
"Could I ask something?" She wondered after a time.
"Anything you'd like."
"Why'd you run away? From Old Man Rivers?"
You laughed, "I was in love."
"Oh, you and Baby Monk go that far back, huh?"
"Try even farther," you teased. "Our mothers were friends, and when I worked in the stable, he was in the monastery, but when he came to me, saying he couldn't do it any longer, I couldn't let him go alone. Life was supposed to offer more than what we were given, so, we set out to find the legendary barbarian, The Dane Slayer," you teased, both giggling, "our Lord, the legendary, Uhtred of Bebbanburg."
"And all this time...?" She smiled, watching you shuck hide like you've done it your whole life. Ingrith inferred you probably did.
"Yeah," you eased, "all this time, he's been by my side. Kept me close, never left me behind. The others weren't too sure about me on account of being a woman, they told us to piss off a few times - but they came around after Osferth refused to send me away."
"He's a good lad, Osferth," she nodded.
"Arguably one of the best ones," you agreed, nudging her arm gently, "but look who I'm telling, right?"
"Oh!" She giggled, swatting at you loosely before going back to your work for a moment. Suddenly, the townspeople of Rumcofa stirred to life, and over the voices, you heard them announcing their Lord's return - which meant all of your men were home. You both grinned and breathlessly left your post, Ingrith pausing a young lad to ask, "How many return to us?"
"Does it matter? Come, c'mon, let us see ourselves!" You all but squealed, overwhelmed with excitment; eager for your own reunion with the man you've loved since you were a young lass.
"Warn the alehouse!" Finan was heard shouting. "Osferth's thirsty!"
"Jesus," you laughed, dodging around the procession of people waiting to greet their warriors on their return home so you could approach the white gelding your husband rode.
His face was absolutely priceless when he caught sight of you. As Osferth eagerly dismounted, your hands smoothed over the small swell of your belly - purposefully wearing a dress that accentuated your ever-changing figure. "Am I dreaming?" He laughed, a stablehand taking hold of his horse so his hands were free to caress your belly. "Oh, my God, I'm not, 's real, oh, God," he beamed, laughing with you. "You're pregnant? Truly? Yes? I-I am not - I am not being deceived?"
"No, my love, I guess our prayers were finally heard."
"OH-HOOOO!" You heard Finan holler as Osferth finally pulled you in for a sweet kiss; both ignoring the Irishman. "Lord! LORD! Uhtred! Hey! Did you hear!? Baby Monk's got some spunk in 'im afta all!"
"Oh, God," you laughed against Osferth's lips, but he was quick to shush you with another breath-stealing kiss.
"A baby Baby Monk! AHA!" Finan was still laughing, your husband's hands caressing both your cheeks when he pulled back just in time for Finan to descend. You grunted lightly when his heavy arms dropped over both yours and Osferth's shoulders, his laugh still booming as he gave a squeeze and cooed, "Oh, congratulations, yah two love birds! Wasn't sure you had it innyah, boy!"
"Don't be so rough with her, Finan, for God's sake," Osferth scolded, nudging his friend to get out from under his arm.
"What?" Finan looked at you gobsmacked. "Sayin' I gotta treat yah different now or somethin'?"
"I didn't say that," you told him prettily with fluttering lashes, fist quickly balling up to jab him in the weak spot of his armor - making him grunt and wheeze. "Aht-aht!" You warned with a pointed finger when he flinched as if to retaliate, "Can't hit a pregnant woman."
"Oh, yeh li'l shite," Finan laughed, Osferth pushing him towards his wife so he could stand in front of you and command all attention.
Osferth took a moment to simply look at you; thumbs gently tracing over your cheeks in sweeping motions, a slow grin breaking across his lips. "This almost doesn't feel real... But how I have to praise God for this blessing. A baby," he breathed.
"A little you and me," you agreed softly. "Sound okay to you?"
"More than okay," he chuckled, pecking your lips, "sounds like a lifetime together."
"Good by me." His nose nuzzled up yours, the sweet moment broken when he sighed sadly; eyes shut and smile dropping. "What is it? What's wrong, love?" You asked, stepping into his embrace so you were nuzzled into his neck and his arms were wrapped around your form in a vice.
"Uhtred means to move us again," he whispered in your ear. "Brida, she... She's got Father Pyrlig, and - "
"What!?" You snapped, rearing back slightly to pin him under your hardened glare. Pregnancy hormones would surely give Osferth whiplash.
"My love, I did not - "
"Brida's got Pyrlig? Fuck are we standin' here for, let's go!" You reached for his hand, ready to march off.
"Uh, no, no, no, no," he pulled you back to him; anchoring his hands on your hips so you could not escape. "You are not going anywhere. Not now - especially now," he glanced at your still-growing bump. "The men will go, you know we will return, but you have this new responsibility, and that's keeping this little one safe. For us," he smiled at you.
You huffed, "I'm not unfit to do what needs done, Osferth."
"I did not say you were unfit, but look at the timing of it," he frowned. "I should've been here when you learned, but I was not, and I am truly so sorry for it. Look, I do not know how long this venture will be, but you know I will return. We've waited for our family for far too long, I will not jeopardize this - so I will return. If you go with us, and something were to happen," he shook his head, "my angel, I would never forgive myself. So I need you to stay here, stay safe, if for nothing else but for me."
"But Pyrlig - "
"Will be saved," he assured.
"And Brida - "
"Will be dealt with," he eased, chuckling lightly. "My angel, you worry too much about everyone and yet never about yourself."
You pouted, "Well, why is it just me meant to stay back? This is your child, too, Osferth, and should have the right to meet them! You can't always control what happens, accidents are real, what if you don't return - "
"Don't think like that - "
"But it's a real threat to us - "
He agreed, "Of course, but - "
"Yeah, I know," you nodded, cutting him off, "we serve Lord Uhtred. This comes first, and I'm not - "
"I've made a vow to him."
"You made one to me, too, you know."
"Angel, please, don't do this. Do not ask me to choose," he begged with a frown, and you caved.
So, with a sigh, you nuzzled into his embrace and relented, "All right, yes, fine, go after Brida and Pyrlig. And when you find them, tell him I am waiting for his safe return, he is dearly missed. Ideally, I'd have him birth our child."
"Of course," he breathed, finding a small reprieve of relief that you did not fight him further about leaving - about choosing which vow to fulfill: the one to his Lord Uhtred or the one to his wife.
Both made to God.
Luckily, Osferth married his best friend and you were never one to pick fights with him. You liked the harmony you had; the peaceful environment you had both cultivated to preserve the trust and love you built through the years. He was genuinely one of a kind; a man who walked many lines between faith, humanity, right, wrong. He was the voice of reason, constantly striving to do better than he did before, learning all he could as if a rag soaking in water. For all he was, Osferth has always been enough for you, and for that reason alone, you never felt the need to argue.
To fight. To voice contempt.
"Question," you perked up, smirking at him as your pregnancy symptoms ran a little wild, "think we've time to, you know, really give our thanks?"
"Angel - "
"What?" You grinned. "You fucked me on the alter all those weeks ago and look - your seed stuck. We might as well go give thanks in the same manner, just to really show God how thankful we are for this blessing he's given us."
"Think the Devil's gotten into you," he laughed.
"Or your child is ruining my hormones," you countered, his lips meeting yours in another passionate display of his excitement.
"C'mon," he whispered, taking your hand, and leading you to the chapel - thinking you were being sneaky, but your matching giggles made Ingrith and Finan beam at each other.
"He does know she can't get more pregnant, right?" Finan teased, flinching when Ingrith smacked his upper arm.
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"WHY!?"
"My angel, please - "
"What the fuck is going on, Osferth!?"
"I'm trying to explain - "
"The Queen? The fucking Queen is dead in our village! How can that possibly be explained!?" When Osferth didn't answer, just sat in the wooden chair before the shared hearth of your humble home, you snapped, "Well!?"
"Are you finished? May I speak now?"
With a huff, you nodded and gestured for him to speak; arms crossing around your swollen tits. He explained to you the reason for Haesten's arrival, the wagon his men toted, and why he brought the Queen's dead body to the settlement of Rumcofa. He told you Haesten wanted to keep the peace when King Edward found out, claiming Uhtred's son-in-law, Stiorra's husband, Sigtryggr, had ordered this death - thinking war would surely roll over his lands.
You never knew Haesten to be a generous man, nor much of an honest one, but it seemed the severity of the situation made everyone eerily on-edge. Uhtred dispatched his men; leaving Finan and Osferth in the village with you, developing a plan that would save both Saxon and Danish life. And yet, it was all futile when evil forces worked against good.
You didn't feel safe in Rumcofa anymore, there was a stench in the air; tension that mounted to embrace all residents with discomfort. Something was about to happen, but nobody knew what. You didn't claim or pretend to know what was happening, but Haesten's abrupt appearance spelled danger for everyone involved. So, as a security measure, you kept a long sword buckled around your swelling waist and a dagger strapped under your skirts. With Lord Uhtred gone, there was no invisible fence protecting Rumcofa - leaving it up to you, Osferth, Finan, and Cynleaf to pose as guard.
Yet you'd never be enough.
Like the surf over sand, a group of angered men descended on Rumcofa. "Who's men are yah?" Finan asked, you lingering at Osferth's side to watch the interaction from a short distance.
"We come from the King," a burly Saxon replied, your head cocking in interest - swearing you've seen him before. "Dane murderers are hiding here and you must hand them over."
"You're mistaken, sir," you kindly offered, the man's eyes shifting over you, "because we live in peace. Any murderers have surely moved on from here. We do not host them."
The man growled, "Don't think that's true, love."
Finan held a hand back at you, meeting your eyes and nodding simply. He turned back for the man in fur, diverting, "Of course, my men will attend to it."
Finan turned from the group, his eyes connecting with yours as he passed by. There was urgency, a quickened pace he adopted; having no intention to hand anyone over, wanting to remove these men without bloodshed. However, that was a distant thought because Father Benedict tried to assure the Saxon leader that nobody in Rumcofa would murder Queen Aelflaed.
You wanted to step in when the Saxon evidently didn't know about the Queen's demise - getting in Benedict's face and demanding to see what he spoke of.
"No, no, no," you muttered nervously, "he can't see the body, love, no, no, no, this is bad. Very bad."
"We can't stop Father Benedict without altercation," Osferth whispered back, keeping a tight hold of your hand, just watching the group. "If something happens, you need to get yourself safe."
"How do we truly know they're from Edward? What credentials do they have?" When Osferth shook his head, you worried, "Got a bad feeling 'bout this, angel."
Then the violence began.
The strange men took charge when their leader walked away, starting to physically harass the citizens; making both you and Osferth step in to try and diffuse the tension. You pushed men off unarmed women, got in between them and the children, did what you could without drawing a weapon.
When a man shoved you away from him, Finan wrangled him away, sneering, "Get yer hands off of her!" He kept the violent men at bay for a moment, telling you, "You need to go, darling - "
"Not now, Fin, look around us! We need to contain the situation, you'll need all hands you can get," You snapped, the two of you forced to part way.
Osferth panted nervously and looked left and right, turning to meet the Saxon and demand, "Tell your men to stand down!" But then, his eyes squinted when you joined his side to pull him back a step or two, recognizing him just as you did.
"I don't think they're here for the Queen, love," you heaved for breath in warning, still backing him up. "They've planned this."
"Finan!" Osferth barked, "These men have been here before!"
The Saxon roared over the fray, "Danes of Rumcofa have murdered our Queen!" His men jeered in anger, making Finan brandish both swords and for Osferth to push you back further from the attention. "Do your duty and rid the cockles from the wheat!"
You were left no choice. Osferth and you both armed yourselves, starting to fight off the Saxons as their leader demanded Danes and Christians be separated. You were unable to help, engaged in battle, but Young Uhtred gathered the Danes and begged Father Benedict to declare the church a sanctuary - thinking it would save lives.
It was only leading the Danes to slaughter.
The Saxon, Bresal, punched Father Benedict when he tried to stand in the way; his men holding Young Uhtred in the doorway to let their men enter the church the Danes were gathered in. They forced Young Uhtred to watch the massacre - men, women, and Danish children all slaughtered with no escape. No hope. No answer to a single prayer. Nobody to stop this bloody situation.
You fought on, Osferth, Finan, and Cynleaf doing their best to protect you by keeping you in the middle of their wee group. But you still got plenty of action.
"This is madness!" You cried out, slicing a man's throat open. "We need aid! We need more men!"
"This way!" Finan encouraged, "We must cut a path for Ingrith! Check the docks! Check the docks!"
You and Osferth ran towards the water, Cynleaf not far away. You searched for Ingrith, but you had no time to linger; engaged one-on-one again, forced to protect yourself and unborn baby. Not a minute later, you saw Ingrith on horseback, being stalled by a Saxon and for your husband to rush to her aid. He punched the man away from the horse, you hacking at another enemy, in time to see Osferth engaging with two Saxons - one being the leader, Bresal.
It all happened so fast.
You were already racing towards them when the unexpected. Osferth was battling on two fronts, holding Bresal at bay, fending off the other Saxon, screaming for Ingrith, who only managed a few paces before the Saxon's dogs spooked her horse. The noise was deafening; people screaming, crying, dogs barking, horses whinnying, swords singing as they clashed.
You watched it happen in slow motion.
You sprinted faster than ever before.
"INGRITH!" Osferth bellowed in worry when her horse reared back and dropped her to the dirt. It left an opening for Bresal to stab his dagger into Osferth's lung - freezing time and wrecking your world.
"NO!" You screamed, Bresal smirking at you and yanking his dagger free. Osferth wobbled, eyes wide as he met yours, the Saxon walking away as Osferth dropped to his knees. "No, no, no, no, no, no, no! Oh, God, no, no, you can't take him - not yet! Please, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no," You repeated, sliding on your knees in the dirt to catch him. "No, no, oh, my God, no, Osferth, no, please! Not now, not now, please, no, God, no! Don't do this! Please, please, please," you rambled, readjusting to better hold him, hearing Cynleaf and Finan yell for Baby Monk, too. You raged at God, "You can't take him yet! You can't have him! He's mine!"
But you heard nothing except your husband's labored breathing.
"An-Angel, angel, my angel," Osferth choked, wheezing and crying as he couldn't hold himself up and completely slumped back into your body. He pawed at your arms in an attempt to get closer.
"No, no, no, you're all right, you're okay, you're okay, my sweet love, you're all right," you insisted, hands stained in his blood as it poured from his wound. You knew it was essential to add pressure to a wound, but also, that this was all futile. Yet you needed to try. "Hey, hey, hey, look at me, just look at me, sweetheart, please, only look at me, nothing else matters," you pleaded with him in a rush, the lads sprinting to where you held your husband to your lap.
Nobody interrupted you.
"Where's the wound?" Osferth sobbed, trembling, blood spurting from his mouth; going paler by the minute. "Angel, please, the wound? Where's the wound?"
"No, no, no, don't worry 'bout that, hey? Don't you worry, you just keep looking at me," you sobbed, holding his neck and cradling him to your swollen belly. "Just at me, my love, okay? Just look at me - don't look anywhere else, okay? Nothing else matters."
"H-How bad? How ba-ba-bad-bad is i-it?"
"You're going to be all right," you lied to Osferth for the first time.
"Oh, my God, oh, my God," Osferth repeated through his tears and fears, "I'm gonna die, I'm gonna die."
He held onto you desperately, sobbing, you slowly rocking. "No, you're all right, Osferth, it's okay, just look at me." You caressed his cheek, smearing blood, but locking eyes. "My love," you whispered, "listen to me - "
"I don't wanna die, please, please, angel, my love, please," he coughed, holding your arm tightly as if it would give him life. "Don't let me die," he wheezed, "don't let me die, my love, please, please. Don't let me die, I don't wanna die. I-I wanna meet our baby, please, I want to meet our baby, I want to be a father. Don't let me die, love, please, I-I wanna be your husband longer - "
"You'll never not be my husband and you'll never not be a father, hear me?" You sniffled, trying to smile at him. "Don't you worry, you're gonna be okay, you're okay, Osferth. You'll always be my husband, nothing will change that - I swear."
Blood pumped with each beat of his frantic heart, making it gush over your fingers. You didn't even feel it.
"Please," he choked, more blood bubbling from his lips, "don't let me die, I don't wanna die. Don't let me die, please, not now, not when our baby isn't here yet, please, I just wanna meet 'em, be a family, I wanna stay with you, don't let me go. Please, don't let me go, I don't want t'go! Don't let me - "
"Shh, it's okay, you're okay. I'm here with you. I'm right here, Osferth, you're not alone, you're never alone. I'm here. I've got you. I'll always have you, I won't ever let you go. Never."
He sobbed harder. "I don't wanna leave you. Please, I don't wanna go, I don't wanna be without you - " But the words choked him, a splatter spraying across your face when he coughed; you didn't even flinch.
"Listen to me," you begged, "I commend you, my dear, sweet husband, to Almighty God, and entrust you to your Creator."
Finan was heard behind you, retching jarring sobs as you read Osferth his death rite prayer. "Don't let me die," Osferth begged still, as if you held that power.
He had always looked at you as if you hung the sun and stars, and now, as if you were his very reason for living. You hated God in that moment for forcing you two through this.
"May you return to Him who formed you from the dust of the earth. May Holy Mary, the angels," now, you choked on your words, emotion clawing your throat, but still continued, "and all the saints come to meet you as you go forth from this life. May Christ who was crucified for you bring you freedom and peace." You sobbed, "May Christ who died for you admit you into His garden of paradise. May Christ, the true Shepherd, acknowledge you as one of His flock. May He forgive all your sins, and set you among those He has chosen. Amen. Please, please, say amen, Osferth, say it, please!"
"A-Amen - Amen!" He coughed, trying to get closer to you, nestling into your warmth as he felt impossibly cold. "Don't leave me, don't leave me, please, please, I don't wanna go, I don't wanna be alone. I can't go without you, please, don't let me go - don't let me die, angel, please, I can't go without you. I-I’ve never been without you my whole life, I don’t wish to start now. I love you. I-I love you, please, don't let me go, I love you. I need you."
"You'll never be without me," you promised, face coated in blood, grime, dirt, and ash; all streaked with your tear tracks. "You will always be my husband, hey? Hear me? You're always gonna be with me, I will never be apart from you. I'll love you forever, Osferth, I won't ever stop." You felt your chest cave in as you sobbed, "Please, don't you leave me - "
But Osferth was wheezing and panting, only staring up at you. "I only need you," he whimpered, "I've only ever needed you, I can't do this without you. Please, I can't - I can't go without you. I don't want to leave you, I can't leave you, please!'
"So don't leave me," you sobbed, him still clawing at you in desperation. "I love you more than life, Osferth, please, don't leave me, okay? Don't go. I love you so much. Being loved by you was my greatest pleasure in this life, I want our child to know your love, too, Osferth, please, don't go."
"I-I wanna meet our baby, I wanna hold 'em, love 'em," he repeated. "Please, this can't be the end, don't let this be the end. W-We have so much more - we were supposed to have eternity together, my love, my angel, please! This isn't the end, I can't - I can't go without you!"
"You're okay," you soothed uselessly, rocking more prominently. "Just stay with me, my love, okay? Stay with me. Don't go. Only look at me, all right? You hear me?" You sniffled, caressing his cheek. "You're the best thing in my life, Osferth, yeah? Understand me? Where you're going, y-you'll be welcomed a hero, with open arms. You'll be my own angel. My real angel. The reason I keep going for our child. An-And you'll stay there just for a little while until I join you, okay? You'll watch over us, me and the baby, right? Our own angel? Hey? 'Cause you'll never be part from us - you'll never be apart from me. You and I are a forever sorta thing, we'll never be apart, we'll always be part of each other no matter what."
Osferth lost his words, eyes widening and pulling you closer.
You just soothed, "I'm here with you, my love. I'm here, I've got you. You're not alone, I'm right here, I have you. I've got you. I love you. I love you so fucking much, Osferth, okay? I love you more than anything, you're my everything. I love you," you sniffled, breaking down in worse sobs, repeating, "I love you, I love you, I love you so much, I'm so sorry, I'm so sorry I wasn't faster, I love you, this shouldn't be happening. I'm so sorry, I should've come faster! I love you, I'm so sorry."
With his last breath, Osferth choked, "L-Love y-y-you."
"I love you," you hushed, bending at the waist to rest your forehead on his, "I love you so much. You're gonna be okay, you're gonna be all right, you'll be safe - where you're going, you'll be safe. I'm so sorry, my love... I'm so sorry."
You felt him go still. You felt the last of his breath exhale, his body deflate. You felt his soul detach from his body.
You froze.
"Oh, my God," you breathed, pulling back to look down at his petrified features. "Oh, my God, no, no, no. God, please, please, give him back," you sobbed, "give him back to me! Do not take him! It's not his time, you selfish cunt! Give him back! It wasn't supposed to end like this! Give him back to me, please! Please! This isn't how this was supposed to happen! We promised eternity together, please! Let us have that! Let us be together, give him back to me! I need him!"
Your shrill hysterics were heard all over Rumcofa.
Finan sobbed into his wife's arms behind you, Cynleaf knelt to slowly extend his hand onto your shoulder. "I'm so sorry," he offered, but you pushed him away harshly; knocking him into the dirt.
"No! I don't want your fucking condolences!" You snapped, holding Osferth tighter, "I want my husband! I want my husband back! Can you give him to me? Can you, Cynleaf? Can you give him back to me!?"
"No - "
"Then you have nothing to offer me! I want nothing else, nothing from you! I only want him!" You looked away from the young lad, finding Osferth's wide open eyes staring up at you. You whimpered, "I only need him, so, please. Please, give him back to me. Please. I need him, I need him, I can't do this without him, please, God, don't do this. You take so many lives, why add him to the mix!? Give him back! C'mon," you begged the cooling body, "c'mon, love, get up. Get up for me, please, just wake up. Come back to me, get up... Get up, Osferth, get up! Please! WAKE UP!"
But Osferth never moved. Never blinked. Never drew breath. And God never answered your pleas. Your dress was saturated in your husband's blood; a pooling puddle seeping into your knees, bodice drenched, his baby moving in your belly. You wailed into the still air, holding your husband tight to your chest; mouth agape to release the terrible screams of anguish, tears never ending, rocking on your knees. You didn't know what to feel... But devastation was prominent.
You wept until your throat went raw, jaw tender from your open mouth. "I'm so sorry!" You repeated, "I should've been quicker! I should've been at your side! You shouldn't have been alone! This is my fault! This is all my fault, I shouldn't have been away from you. I should've been with you, you did not deserve this end. Please! Forgive me, wherever you are, forgive me, I did not intend for this, I shouldn't have left you, I should've been at your side, I'm so sorry. This is all my fault, I'm so sorry."
"No," Ingrith whispered, "no, do not say this is your fault, you did nothing - "
"Exactly!" You snapped at her, eyes ablaze, her husband silent. "I did nothing, I wasn't with him! I wasn't where I was supposed to be! And he was stabbed because of you!"
Finan whispered your name in reprimand.
"No! How many times have you rode a fucking horse, Ingrith!? And now, today, the time it truly matters, you fall; you posed distraction," you sobbed, crumpling in on yourself. "He was distracted by your fall... This shouldn't've happened, this is all wrong!"
The trio just watched you, knowing your emotions were raw and unwavering, that your words did not have meaning because your husband had just died in your arms. Hours passed, you did not move. Hours passed, your husband did not return. Hours passed, and your heart shattered with each passing breath you selfishly drew.
Because living felt selfish now without Osferth.
"Sweet one," Finan whispered, the sun setting, "we should move him. Bring him to the church so Benedict can pray."
Your head shook, "No."
"Darlin', we have to - "
"No," you whimpered, "because if you take him to Benedict, it's real. If we move, he's truly gone... He can't be gone, Finan," you sobbed, meeting your friend's eyes. "If you move him, he's gone, I'm not ready to say goodbye, please. Please, don't take him from me."
"I'm so sorry," he whispered, "but he should be laid to rest."
"Don't take him from me," you begged, a new wave of tears starting. "I just - we were supposed to be a family. We were supposed to have this baby, and now, it's just me? This cannot be, so please, don't take him from me, I only need him back. Give him back to me, Finan, please, I can't be without him."
"I know," he nodded, gently encouraging you into his embrace. It meant you had to let go of Osferth, something you did slowly and gradually, leaning into the Irishman's chest. "All right, I got yah," he whispered, looking to his wife. "C'mon, stand with Ingrith. I'll carry him."
"Be gentle," you sobbed, feeling Ingrith grip your arms to help heave you to your feet; watching Finan scoop Osferth over his shoulder. The change of position made more blood splatter to the dirt, your heart stalling in your chest when you heard the mess.
You felt your soul shriveled and hidden somewhere deep in your chest, following as if in a trance. You watched Finan and Cynleaf slowly lower Osferth to the ground with the other dead Danes, feeling yourself drop to the ground in shock.
Seeing Osferth amongst the dead made it so much more real.
"It's all my fault," you sobbed, Finan moving to your side, "it's all my fault, I got him killed. I should've been quicker. This is my fault, my fault, I did this, 's my fault."
Finan knelt beside you, bringing your foreheads together to hold you tightly and let you sob into his embrace. "You didn't do this," he promised, "you did nothing wrong. You are not at fault. Do not carry this guilt."
You sobbed without reprieve.
Young Uhtred halted Father Benedict from praying over the Danes, telling the older man they had different customs, but looked back at you. He asked your name softly, wondering, "Do you wish for a prayer for... Him?"
Even Young Uhtred couldn't stomach the truth, avoiding using Osferth's name out of sheer disbelief.
"That'd be nice," Finan agreed, turning to sit beside you and hold you under his arm. You leaned into his embrace, head to his shoulder. "She read him his death rites when... It happened."
Young Uhtred nodded, bowing his head, leading, "Our Father, Who art in heaven, Hallowed be Thy Name. Thy Kingdom come, Thy Will be done, On earth as it is in Heaven. Give us this day, our daily bread, And forgive us our trespasses, as we forgive those who trespass against us. And lead us not into temptation, but deliver us from evil."
Then, you joined from under Finan's heavy arm, sobbing through your words, "Hail Mary, Full of Grace, The Lord is with thee. Blessed art thou among women, and blessed is the fruit of thy womb, Jesus. Holy Mary, Mother of God, pray for us sinners, now, and at the hour of our death."
Benedict finished, "Glory Be to the Father, and to the Son, and to the Holy Spirit. As it was in the beginning, is now, and ever shall be, world without end."
Together, you, Ingrith, Young Uhtred, Benedict, Finan, and even Cynleaf ended, "Amen."
Feeling the most level-headed, Ingrith stepped in and directed the men; informing that Young Uhtred should lead the remaining Danes to Daneland, Finan and Cynleaf would meet Uhtred on the road, and she would accompany you to Wessex - where Osferth could be laid to rest at the place of his birth. Then, the people mourned together for their fallen.
Finan disagreed initially, telling his wife you were his responsibility now that Osferth was passed. But there was no way you could continue with the company, not in your pregnant state. Finan didn't like the idea of you being without him, considering you close to a sister; something of a best mate, someone he couldn't turn his back on - no matter the situation. However, he understood the predicament and finally agreed to part ways, but not before he untied Osferth's crucifix and latched it around your neck. At the gates of Rumcofa, before separating, Finan gifted you his rosary; thinking it might bring comfort in his physical absence.
Years from then, you would bring up a single son named Gabriel (a name your husband favored, a name benefitting an Angel) under Lord Uhtred in his birthplace of Bebbanburg. You never remarried. You never even so much as looked after another man with lust. Gabriel would grow into a handsome warrior and a devoted man of God, satisfied on tales about his father; being painted as a man of honor, integrity, and bravery. Osferth, too, was a man of God, a man of the sword, and a man of his word... Until the very end. And when your time came, you were brought back to Wessex to be laid to rest with your husband; your son having a son, naming him Osferth, and knowing, both his parents shined down on him in pride.
It was a comfort for everyone to know, somewhere in the afterlife, in God's warmth, you and Osferth were reunited; looking just as you did the day you parted from one another.
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requesting rules and masterlist
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arseniy-arsenicum33 · 3 months
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All Hermits in Hero Forge!
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Season 10 is coming! And I've finished modeling every Hermit (Thus far) in their TCG-cards poses!
Special thanks to Hoffen for their original minecraft models...
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You've already saw these eight models in my Life-series minis showcase, slight tweaks and costume changes... I really need to buy Hero Forge subscription, so i can manipulate fingers individually... Now, for the new guys... Guess what?! I've figured out how to make links! Now you can see my references directly! Technology!
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Ren got his cool casual look...
Docm77 inspired primarily by Belmarzi's design, such as this... It was very funny to suddenly stop in the middle of this project to model him hugging Snoop Dogg...
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JoeHills, unsurprisingly, based on real-life Joe Hills... But I did have this comic by my side while modeling him, for moral support, because modeling someone's likeness is always stressful...
Cleo's pose pose a challenge, It uses a transparent one-legged skeleton inside the main body... Like a real armour-stand magic! I like how it turned out...
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I've started watching Zedaph very recently, so both Noxolotl's and Applestruda's portrayals of him were very helpful in forming mine...
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Blaise's Hermit line up was used for Cub and Hypno, which you will see down the line... Bee's art was helpful, once again, and these Cub-arts by Sylvan...
My main goal with Jevin was to somehow convincingly make a slime look slimy... I was so ready to make him as rotund as this art, but alas, program restrictions...
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This art was used for False at the very beginning, but it drifted so much with the addition of cheekbones, that it doesn't look like it at all anymore...
Hypno had a surprise for me, because before making this model, I've never saw this brown line on his chest as a boob-window... But now, I am convinced... This is the art, that guided me to that conclusion... Ghostea's and Locus's portraits were useful for figuring out his face...
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Iskall lifted from this art... Hero Forge doesn't have any cool one-eyed visors, so I've settled on monocle for him and Doc...
Hero Forge also for some reason doesn't have a hand-held flower, so pretend, that Stress doesn't hold a pen, okay? And has a cardigan... Based mainly on this and this art, which was also used for XB...
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My best guess with Keralis was that he is doing Edvard Munch's "The Scream" ommage... Thanks to Myra and Cole , without them, Keralis would've looked more like a bug with them big ol' eyes...
Oh, boy, XB... A true enigma for me... Pictured here, lightly jogging... Only you could tell me, if I did a good job with him, I sincerely have no idea... Since this is in part a TCG-inspired project, it would've been wise to use references from the actual TCG-cards... To bad, I've came up with this idea near the end of a project...
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I have made so many Xisuma-costumes, and only now I am showing you the main friendly-neighbourhood DoomGuy cosplayer himself... Do I need to credit id Software for this?
WelsKnight is my champion in regards to how many references I needed for him... 1 2 3 4 5 6 7! Despite how many armour options Hero Forge has, making something coherent out of them was difficult... Especially, keeping in mind, that one day I'm going to model HelsKnight as well...
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And finally, TinFoilChef, based heavily on this stunning artwork... And somewhat on this skin by Ink-Ghoul... It all comes around...
And the Creator Himself! Beef! And his wonderful portraits: 1 2 3 4...
I actually going to use him as an example, to address something...
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Here is how my screen looks, then I am working on a model... My method of creation is derivative by nature, it requires the art and creativity of other people... And I have SO MUCH anxiety about this... Not being an artist, but still trying to make something with my limited capabilities... And post it on the internet, oh horror...
With recent talks about plagiarism and AI-art, it has come to my attention, that I myself not so different from AI, just not so efficient... So, this is why I so obsessively document my influences, it is the least I can do... Credit the artists, that I stole from... Please, check out everyone mentioned, subscribe to them, commission new pieces of art...
And if you've liked my dorky "minecraft youtubers made in DND character creator" models... Thank you...
Sometime later there will be a google doc on my blog with links to every model I've ever made, go nuts with them... Try Hero Forge for yourself, it's fun...
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zhongliologist · 1 year
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Research Hazards | 30 Nights Series
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Pairing: Alhaitham x afab!reader x Kaveh
Genre: SMUT
Content Warning: threesome, double penetration, blowjob, cunnilingus, anal, creampie, trapped
Words: 5.7k
A/N: Happy Holidays! This is my present to y'all who're still here lmao Anyways, this is part of a series that I barely started, so I won't promise I'll post regularly. Consider this an advance ksksksks Also please ignore genshin lore stuff in this fic, i took all the liberties i had so it's not accurate lmaooo
Tagging: @yostresswritinggirl i know you've been waiting for this lmaooo
Warning: THIS IS AN 18+ FIC, SO MINORS OUT THERE, YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED. PLEASE READ AT YOUR OWN DISCRETION.
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There are three types of people in the world when faced with a life or death situation.
The first one tends to be a little too overdramatic.
“This can’t be the end! I have so many projects to do, so many masterpieces to make! Al-haitham, you take responsibility for this! If you didn’t insist that we take this route, we could have been out by now!”
The second prefers to be more logical; the problem solver.
“Don’t be so pathetic, Kaveh. How about you use that brain of yours to find a way out instead? Out of us three here, you’re the most knowledgeable with machinery. You should know at least one loophole.”
And the last one is what people would call an “opportunist”.
“Take your flirting somewhere else, you two. I’m in the cusp of an academic breakthrough. This room is like no other! Completely unique from all the ruins attributed to the god of time! So exciting!”
“We are not flirting!” “Your imagination knows no boundaries, YN.”
You shrugged, crouching near an impression on the wall. “Hm. Whatever you say.”
This unique arrangement, or whatever it was, simply formed out of necessity.
As students of the Akademiya, it was required to submit a final research paper before graduating—a cumulative opus of all the learnings and skills one has acquired through their time as a student. You never had any trouble in writing your own paper, but the subject you chose was a behemoth, a wide gap in the tree of knowledge that has yet to be studied thoroughly. Despite your brilliance however, you only had one brain and that was hardly enough to tackle the mystery of the god of time. Besides, you needed the expertise from the other Darshans to make full sense of any discovery, and they probably need your expertise as well—a win-win situation, in your honest opinion.
And that was how you ended up with Al-haitham and Kaveh—geniuses, yes, but probably the most insufferable pair in the entire Akademiya.
“Al-haitham, Kaveh,” you called out as you stood up from your position and walked towards the two with notebook in hand. Al-haitham was standing front of a wall, trying to decipher what was written, while Kaveh was busy studying the walls of the room.
“Have you figured it out?” Al-haitham asked, looking up. He was always the sensible one between the two, but only when it comes to intellectual pursuits.
“No, not yet, but I do need a sounding board,” you replied, standing beside him. “An alternative assessment, if you will.”
“Fine by me. We’ll listen to your ideas first before we share our own thoughts,” Kaveh said as he stood before the both of you.
“So our current predicament is that we’re trapped in this room, which was triggered when we stepped on that platform, causing the walls to cave in on us. If we want to get out, we have to at least understand what had trapped us and why.”
Both men nodded at you. Al-haitham glanced at you, his stare a little too long than normal.
“Makes sense. Go on.”
You cleared your throat to divert your attention to the subject at hand. “Well, here’s the thing. Previous research claim that these ruins are dedicated to the god of time, yet now that I’m here seeing it with my own two eyes, touching it with my two hands, I have to disagree. And I believe the both of you think the same way.”
Kaveh and Al-haitham exchanged glances, yet it was Kaveh who first spoke. “While it is important not to jump into conclusions right away, I do agree with YN. The architectural style, the motifs…they do look similar to Istaroth-attributed ruins yet not quite. The flower motifs on the wall could easily be mistaken as triquetras. If we reexamine previous papers and note our recent findings, a trove of new discoveries is possible.”
Nodding in agreement, you listened to what Kaveh had to say, until you were distracted by how his lips moved. Soft, pink and plump…would it feel as delectable as it appeared to be, you wondered. Wait. This is not what you should be thinking in this situation YN!
“We should be careful here,” Al-haitham interrupted your thoughts. “Refuting previously recognized research is already an endeavor in and of itself. While it is disappointing that these ruins are not related to the ruins of Dahri, we can get enough data here to write an additional paper, alongside our main research subject. With that said, figuring out who this place is for should be the first and foremost priority, for the paper and for our safety as well.”
“I’ve seen you look through the writings on the wall earlier. Did it leave any clues?” you asked, gazing up at him. For some reason you felt hot and uncomfortable all of the sudden. Perhaps it was just the jungle humidity finally getting to you.
“Ah yes. It was also the reason why I had to agree with your assessment. The writings sing of praises for the goddess of flowers, as well as of hopes and wishes for ‘new seed’ to sprout and ‘new buds’ to bloom. It was also in a language which emerged at the same time as scripts from King Deshret’s empire and from ancient Sumeru. If these were ruins attributed to the god of time, Khaenri'ahn script should have been used and there should be no mention of the goddess of flowers.”
“How interesting,” you exclaimed, trying to rid of unnecessary thoughts forming in your head. “What you both have noted all points to the goddess of flowers. I assumed the same case as well. Yet there are no records of buildings dedicated to the goddess, so what makes this one different? What does the writings on the wall allude to? What is this place for? Why are we trapped here?”
“Alright!” Kaveh exclaimed, making you yelp when he suddenly placed his hands on your shoulders. They were heavy and big. “Let’s take a break for a while. I, for one, would like to rest on a comfortable place.”
The ‘comfortable place’ Kaveh was referring to was of course, another invention of his. Both you and Al-haitham watched the blond unfurl his portable chaise lounge with jaded eyes, all too familiar with Kaveh’s tactic of showing off. If he wasn’t a master craftsman and architect, you would’ve deemed him a simple man.
“Of course, the both of you are free to take a seat. Don’t be shy now,” he smirked, and at that point you understood why Al-haitham was ceaselessly cruel to him.
“Al-haitham if you’re not going to punch him sooner or later, I will do it.”
The Haravatat scholar simply shrugged at you; indicating that you should get used to it. “If I were you, just humor him to keep the peace and quiet. The archons know we need some silence to think in this situation.”
“Fine,” you retorted back and marched towards Kaveh. In a huff, you ungracefully plopped yourself on the chaise, surprising even Kaveh himself.
“You’re…” sitting so close to me, was what he wanted to say yet it was suddenly so difficult to get the words out of his throat.
“What is it?” you asked, wondering why Kaveh covered half of his face with his hand all of a sudden.  
“No, I just…” he couldn’t say it. There was no way he could tell you that you smelled so sweet and delectable, enough to remind him of baklavas drizzled with honey. Drizzled with honey…he could lick it off of you—
“What’s gotten into you, Kaveh? You wouldn’t be thinking of anything inappropriate, would you?” you asked in the midst of a laughing fit. You just couldn’t help but giggle at the way his face morphed into an expression of horror.
“O-of course not! I…” he stammered but eventually composed himself. “Don’t you think it’s a bit warm in this room?”
“Well, there are no windows. It could also be the combined body heat of us three,” you shrugged. “I’m more concerned if we’re gonna run out of air before we can get out of here.”
“Oh, about that. There is a draft coming from the gaps on the walls, so there’s no chance of suffocation.”
“Well, at least we have that. But I do agree, it’s been warm for a while now, it’s making my skin stick to my clothes. I should at least remove one layer.”
“What…?”
Kaveh stared at you in panic, wide-eyed and flushed. He was already having inappropriate thoughts of you; your bare skin would do massive damage to his self-control.
“Wait…!” he reached out to you, hand on your arm. You gazed at him curiously, mulling over at the weird mood the both of you were in. If you were a little more honest, you could feel a haze creeping around you and Kaveh. You were just too scared to acknowledge it.
“Oh, come on! I’m just removing a jacket, no big deal!” You shrugged him off, finally getting rid of the stuffy outerwear required of students while on field, and went back to your place beside the blond man.
Kaveh had to train his eyes somewhere else to avoid looking at your shoulders and neck. Yet even if his eyes found purchase on a nearby rock, his imagination was betraying him with images of you flushed and ready underneath him, calling out his name in sweet and illicit whispers. There is no way he wouldn’t get hard right now. Get a hold of yourself, Kaveh!
Unbeknownst to the blond beside you, you weren’t in the best of shape either. It took all your mental prowess not to get overwhelmed by lewd thoughts—thoughts which involved the blond and the ash-haired scholar. All the intellectual talk from earlier had you weak and bothered, weirdly turned on from how Al-haitham discussed his thoughts while Kaveh shared his. For some reason, the desire to be pressed between both men was clawing at you. You wanted to feel their bodies against yours, touching and caressing all your sensitive spots until the three of you were one incoherent mess.
“What are you two even doing?”
The sound of Al-haitham’s stern voice brought you back down to Teyvat. You were thankful he was still sane, otherwise you might’ve not been able to come back. Kaveh, on the other hand, was still stubbornly looking at the distant wall.
“YN, scoot over,” Al-haitham ordered. He didn’t wait for you to move however, instead, you were forced to make room for him on the now crowded chaise, making you bump against Kaveh, who was definitely not pleased.
“You could at least wait, you know?” you remarked irately. “It’s already so hot and humid as it is…”
Removing his beret, Al-haitham kept his gaze on the wall in front of him much like Kaveh. “It’s not my fault this chaise lounge could barely fit three people.”
“Do you have a problem with it Al-haitham?” Kaveh interrupted, a lilt of frustration present in his voice which wasn’t there before. “You should be thankful you’re not sitting on the stone floor.”
In your position, the two of them looked rather silly bickering at the walls they were facing, as they avoided getting a glimpse of you and of each other. It wasn’t hard to guess that Al-haitham was feeling the same way both you and Kaveh did, and he was trying his best not to succumb to it.
“Did this room smelled particularly sweet when we went in?” you asked, interrupting the both of them.
“Hm? Oh no, I don’t think so. It was just like any other ruins we previously visited,” Kaveh replied, instinctively looking at you. That proved to be quite a mistake however, as his eyes began to ogle at your bare shoulders, neck and arms. The temptation to touch you was all too real and difficult to resist. Any time now, the tightly-wound thread holding his self-control would eventually snap.
“I’ve noticed it as well…the room does smell faintly of sweet flowers and padisarahs.” Al-haitham added as he glanced down at you, imagining all the things your mouth can do for him. Like slow-moving poison, illicit thoughts were invading his mind, pillaging all that is logical and reasonable until all he could think about is you. You being violated by him and Kaveh; you crying out their names as they fill both your holes; you laying on the chaise stuffed to the brim with their seed.
You watched Al-haitham as his mind wandered. You could tell he was losing his own battles, overcome by intrusive thoughts. If Al-haitham himself had succumbed to these thoughts, then forget about finding a way out. Your minds were too preoccupied to do any analysis at that point. The question now became clear to you—for how long are you three able to maintain self-control? If that wasn’t possible, what will happen to the three of you?
“A conclusion seemed to have crossed your mind, YN.”
It was Al-haitham, who had met your eyes directly. Peridot orbs on yours, you noticed the ferocity of his gaze, as if a fire was smoldering deep within him which he could barely contain. He was at his limit, and you were nearing yours too. You could only withstand so much mental battles, especially not against old leyline energy.
“This was a miscalculation in our part. Who would have thought we’d encounter something like this deep in the forest?” you replied, voice becoming low, body becoming pliant. “The flower motifs, the inscription on the wall, all the scattered decorations. It makes sense for this place to have that kind of purpose.”
“So what now?” Kaveh asked, leaning against the back rest of the chaise. “I don’t think I have the energy to resist whatever is happening.”
“Let’s just see where it goes,” you shrugged, allowing Al-haitham’s hands to cup your cheeks and Kaveh’s arms to wrap around your waist. “We are already too far gone.”
The next few moments were difficult for you to follow. After allowing your carnal urges to took hold of your actions, all you could remember was how everything felt so good.
The two men slowly ravished your body. You remember Al-haitham pressing his lips against yours, nibbling your lower lip until you allowed him to explore your mouth and play with your tongue. Kaveh, on the other hand, had monopoly over your body, lazily embracing your waist with one arm as he fondled your chest with his hand. He liked to bury his nose on the crook of your neck, inhaling your scent and leaving his marks all over your skin. Suffice to say, their ministrations left you bare and naked.
There were no words exchanged at that moment, just pure and unbridled lust.
You delighted at the sensation of having both men caressing you, making you feel good. In the haste of it all, the blond had you sitting on his lap, his hands cupping your breasts and rubbing your nipples, while Al-haitham’s lips travelled down from collarbones to your stomach; leaving nips and splotches of color in his wake. Your hands could only do so much; wrapped around Al-haitham’s shoulders as you accepted it all.
Kaveh couldn’t believe he finally had a taste of you—his deepest desires finally coming into fruition after years of longing. Although he had to share with Al-haitham, there was no other opportunity like this. He could finally touch you, caress you, tease you as he pleased. There were no eyes to stop him, no boorish ego to tell him he was being unprofessional for liking you as your senior. Maybe this was what he needed after all.
“…Kaveh…” you moaned, looking up to him for a kiss which he easily obliged. He went immediately for a French kiss, sliding his tongue against yours in a soft and needy kiss. Kaveh groaned into your lips as you pressed your butt against the tent in his pants, reminding him to remove his clothes as soon as possible.
Al-haitham watched the exchange with half-lidded eyes and lips ajar. It was turning him on in all the right ways. As a man of rationality, he had never thought he’d enjoy a voyeuristic view of you making out with another man, much less Kaveh. But the sight only made his dick harder, prompting him to bite hard on your inner thigh.
 “—!!”
“Come on now, YN. Don’t tell me you forgot about me,” he growled as he lapped on the bite mark he had just left on your skin. “Let’s hear you moan.”
With those words, the man completely ravished your thighs—leaving nips and bites but altogether avoiding the place where you needed him the most. You were trembling, keening in pleasure, mind numbed by the sensations both men had put you through. With hands tightly digging into Al-haitham’s hair, you collapsed against Kaveh’s chest as you begged the other for more.
Annoyed at the attention you gave to Al-haitham, Kaveh had his hand under your chin and turned your head to face him. Meeting his scarlet eyes, you melted under his gaze—once again joining lips in one sloppy kiss. He easily drowned out your moans with his tongue, delving deeper into your mouth until all you could feel were his soft plump lips.
Aware of how quiet you had been, Al-haitham pushed your legs up and dove right at your center; sucking your sensitive nub without any warning. Your body shook immediately, pulling away from Kaveh’s lips as you reveled at the way Al-haitham was lapping your juices which had been spilling out since earlier.
“…Al-haitham…! Wait—!”
All your pleading went to deaf ears as he continued eating you out, even to the point of inserting his tongue into your hole. It didn’t help when Kaveh suddenly pinched your nipples, flicking them until they were raw and sensitive. He was back on marking your shoulders and neck; his bites now more intense and feral. You could only grasp on thin air as both men drove you to your climax. Tears welled up on the sides of your eyes as the pleasure became so unbearable, with no choice but to take it all in.
“Fuck, fuck, fuck….! I’m…!”
As Al-haitham sucked hard on your clit; as Kaveh bit hard on your shoulder, you instantly fell to your climax—body shaking and trembling as the pain and pleasure mixed into something indescribably intense and rendering your mind completely blank. You screamed at the overwhelming stimulation, squirting juices into Al-haitham’s mouth which he gladly licked.
The two men gently laid you down on the chaise as they stood in front of you, breathless and horny with cocks painfully hard. Silently, they undressed as you watched—your eyes tracing the contours of their muscles and biceps, their beautiful skin riddled with beads of sweat and bodily fluids. Desire bubbles up from the pits of your stomach once again.
Finally, you saw a glimpse of their erect members, both glistening with pre-cum. Head overridden with lust, you almost salivate at the sight—Kaveh’s was pretty, pink and rather long and slightly girthy, while Al-haitham was thick and veiny; almost as muscular as his toned body. Both men smirked at how you were ogling at them.
“Seems like you want more, YN,” Kaveh remarked as he sat at the end of the chaise, spreading your legs apart. “Surely, we can give you more. Isn’t that right, Al-haitham?”
Normally, this would prompt more bickering from the two, yet they have different priorities right now, and they can set aside their differences for later.
Al-haitham scoffed, hands giving his cock a few pumps before placing it near your lips.
“How about we start with a blowjob? I’m sure you know how to do it, don’t you YN?” There was a mocking lilt to his tone that normally irritated you, yet at that situation, it turned you on for some fucking reason.
At first, you gave the head tentative licks, lapping at the beads of pre-cum spilling from the tip. You then began swirling your tongue around the head and sucking it. Eventually, you licked the underside of his cock, thoroughly covering his member with saliva and pre-cum which earned a deep growl from the man. Locking gazes with Al-haitham, you finally took him in, mouth stretching at his girth. If you weren’t drowning in lust, you would’ve complained at the pain, but at that point, all you could think about was how you were sucking his large cock while Kaveh was rubbing his on your drenched slit.
And speaking of Kaveh, he was busy pleasuring himself—pressing your thighs together around his dick which was brushing against your sensitive clit. If you hadn’t had Al-haitham’s cock in your mouth, you would’ve moaned every time Kaveh would rub on your sensitive bud; yet you could only roll your eyes to the back of your head; seeing stars on the process. It was a delightful distraction, and both men seemed to have made it somewhat of a contest of who could maintain your attention.
All of the sudden, Al-haitham shoved his dick into your throat, making you gag. Holding your head, he was effectively fucking your mouth, as you took it all in. It was painful, but fortunately Kaveh was there to distract you, pressing his thumb on your clit as he continued sliding his cock on your wet cunt. You could no longer tell which was which, allowing your body to feel everything.
“Fuck, YN….I’m going to come in your mouth…” Al-haitham muttered through gritted teeth.
“Wouldn’t you like that, YN?” Kaveh cooed, face flushed as he continued to fuck your thighs. “We’re gonna cover you with our cum…”
With a few strokes, Al-haitham stilled in your mouth and pumped his cum into your throat, while Kaveh spilled his seed on your stomach, almost reaching your breasts. Not able to swallow of Al-haitham’s essence, you allowed the mess to drip from your lips and down to your body. The image of you covered with their seed was enough to keep both men hard even outside the influence of the room. Even after coming once, it wasn’t enough. They had to have you.
Lifting your chin up, Kaveh captured your lips for the nth time, tasting Al-haitham on your tongue. The thought seemed to drive him crazy, as he probed deeper into your mouth, groaning, sucking your tongue and biting your lips. Lifting you up, Kaveh met eye to eye with Al-haitham, both seemingly agreeing on something.
Smirking as he devoured your lips, Kaveh had you on his lap again, his cock now lined up on your cunt. Without saying anything, the blond lowered you to his dick, grunting at the novel sensation of your walls wrapped around him. His lips kept any of your moans from escaping, as he allowed you to feel the shape of his cock in your pussy.
All you could think of at that moment was how good Kaveh filled you up. He was prodding you at the right places, his size making you stop to adjust to him before he can plow into your cunt. The way he was kissing you didn’t help either. The constant stimulation had made your body so sensitive that even a brush of Al-haitham’s hand on your neck or Kaveh’s low growls was enough to make your body spasm.
“…Kaveh…more…”
You begged for him to move, but the blond could only smirk at you as he laid the both of you flat on the chaise with you above him.
“Oh no, we’re not done here, YN. Al-haitham has to prepare you.”
With those words, you suddenly felt cold wet fingers prodding your other hole, prompting you to turn around. You were greeted by a grinning Al-haitham who pressed a few kisses on your back.
“We don’t have any lube right now, but I’ll make sure you’re ready for the both of us.”
As Al-haitham kneeled down, you could feel his tongue rimming your hole, licking and prodding until you were crying out at the strange sensations.
“Wait…no…! That’s…!”
“Relax, YN,” Kaveh assured you as he nipped on your ear. “It’ll feel good later on. Just let Al-haitham pleasure you.”
You could no longer tell how long Al-haitham took to make you feel good, but you could tell that your rigid body was gradually becoming pliant to his touch. Perhaps you already came several times, you weren’t sure as the pleasure seemed to have overlapped each other with no end in sight. By the time you noticed, he already had four digits pumping in and out of you as he lapped on your juices, while you moaned against Kaveh’s shoulders.
“Look how well you can take my fingers, YN,” Al-haitham whispered to your ear as he continued to pound his fingers into your ass. “You think you can take my cock now?”
“A-Al-haitham…please…I—!”
As the ash-haired man flicked a particular spot inside, you could only cling to Kaveh for support, yet the blond himself was also struggling, trying his best not to come even after your walls keep tightening around him.
“Al-haitham…” Kaveh grunted, beads of sweat falling from his temples. “Hurry up…I don’t think I can last much longer…”
Al-haitham clicked his tongue as he shoved his fingers deep into you, making both you and Kaveh groan. “So impatient…perhaps you both need a lesson or two.”
“Well, how about we switch places instead?” the older man asked, his irritation evident.
Yet the other man only smirked, “Maybe later then.”
Finally pulling out his fingers, Al-haitham coated his member with your essence, rubbing it against your hole until he lined it up. Noticing what he was about to do, Kaveh pulled your now swollen lips once more for a kiss, effectively distracting you.
Gradually, Al-haitham pushed his fat cock into your ass, stretching you out in proportions you had never considered before. Having both Al-haitham and Kaveh inside of you had your eyes rolling to the bank of your head, the intensity enough to make you faint. But you were intoxicated with whatever energy was in the room, so instead of actually fainting, you were flooded with pain that was so good that it had your body shaking uncontrollably.
“Breathe slowly, love. Take it easy,” Kaveh whispered sweetly to you, noticing your heavy breaths. He made carefully placed kisses on your jaw and down to the crook of your neck to soothe you. He knew Al-haitham would definitely abuse your hole, and he had to at least make sure that you’d come out sane after this. His ministrations seemed to have worked though, as you collapsed into his embrace, whimpering while taking in both cocks in you.
It didn’t take a while for both men to begin moving. The contrast of Al-haitham’s sharp and harsh thrusts to Kaveh’s slow but long-drawn pace left you an incoherent mess, no longer able to perceive everything that was happening to you. You felt as if you were one big bundle of nerves, drooling and screaming every time their cocks pushed against a particularly sweet spot in you.
Yet you were not the only one on the brink of losing their sanity. Both Al-haitham and Kaveh were acting on complete impulse and desire—with their hands on your waist, plunging into you as deep as they could, relentlessly chasing after their high. They wanted to fuck you over and over again and spill into you, marking you as theirs inside and out. Then rinse and repeat.
“Hey, can you feel it?” Al-haitham asked Kaveh in a breathy voice, grinning as he continued to pound into you.
“Feel what?”
“My dick—“
In one huff, Al-haitham shoved deep and hard into you, which made your walls contract around Kaveh’s.
“Oh fuck…!” The other groaned out, gripping your waist tight as he threw his head up. That was incredible, if he was being honest.
“You liked that, didn’t you?” the younger man smirked as he bent over your back and took a handful of your hair. “YN seemed to have liked it as well.”
“Shut up,” the other simply glared even though his face was completely flushed.
“You should learn from YN, Kaveh. At least, they’re being honest.”
Al-haitham only chuckled as he continued to drive into you, completely mesmerized at how you were clamping around him, how your hips would bounce every time he would thrust sharply, how you were moaning his name on Kaveh’s lips. In normal circumstances, he wouldn’t have imagined himself desiring you so intensely like this. Unlike Kaveh who obviously had a crush on you, you were more like a like-minded individual to Al-haitham; someone who he could match wavelengths with. He could spend the whole day everyday with you without worrying about anything, and he would feel rather lonely if you weren’t there. Was it different from what Kaveh was feeling about you? He thought it was, but now he wasn’t sure anymore.
Al-haitham felt you tighten around him once more, probably prompted by Kaveh playing with your chest. He could feel himself slowly climbing into his climax, his dick twitching inside of you.
“I can’t…no more…I’m…” you managed to croak out, voice hoarse and dry from all the screaming.
“It’s okay...” Kaveh cooed as he pressed a kiss on your forehead, “we’re cutting it close too…”
“Cum with us, YN,” Al-haitham encouraged.
This was the moment you waited for, feeling both their dicks plunging in and out of you. You reveled at how full you felt, at how you were drowning in so much pleasure that your mind just turned off on its own. This moment where you were all in the brink of your climax was something you chased after—it was the height of all anticipation, of all the build-up. Soon, it will spill over into waves of ecstasy; devouring the three of you whole.
With their erratic paces and their ragged breaths, both men ravished both your holes as they try to reach their peak. You yourself was feeling the brunt of their thrusts, with knuckles white from gripping tightly on Kaveh’s shoulders and eyes rolling to the back of your head. A single hard thrust from both men had you collapsing on your orgasm, walls tightening as your body shook intensely. Following after you, Kaveh painted your walls white, spilling his seed deep into you with a loud growl. Al-haitham finished last, pumping his cum into your ass until it spilt over your hole.
Losing strength, Al-haitham slumped beside you and Kaveh as he tried to catch his breath. You could’ve passed out at the moment, if only the both of them weren’t still hard and ready to go. You yourself weren’t as satisfied as you ought to be, now beginning to miss their deep and sharp thrusts.
“Seems like we’ll have to satisfy this place before it would let us stop,” Al-haitham remarked, pulling out from you with his cum spilling out.
Helping you sit up, Kaveh also pulled out from you, groaning in the process. He wouldn’t want to admit it but he was as eager as you started; evident from how hard he still was despite coming twice.
“You can still take more, can’t you YN?”
“We’ll help you, so don’t worry about anything.”
Climbing back on the chaise, Kaveh pulled you to his lap while Al-haitham captured your lips with a grunt escaping his mouth. That all led you to Kaveh pounding your ass this time while Al-haitham shoved his cock into your pussy—your juices mixing and staining your skin. Imprisoned in the room, the three of you had no perception of time, thus it felt like you were fucking for eternity with no chance of calming down.
The three of you tried every position possible in order to satiate the brewing desire ever-present in the pits of your stomachs. One time you were riding Kaveh while you had Al-haitham on your mouth. Another time you were held by Al-haitham, wrapping your legs around his waist as he fucked your sore cunt raw, while Kaveh was pressed behind you, cock plunging deep in your ass. Both your two holes were full of their cum, spilling out on your thighs and legs.
At that point, the three of you were unbothered where this was going. If this was where you meet your end, you could just imagine Al-haitham’s look of disappointment and disgust. That was hilarious in and of itself, but you couldn’t bring yourself to care anymore. You just wanted to have them both by your side, filling you with their seed over and over again.
By the time you came to notice, you had already awoken yourself from sleep. Both men were lying close, bodies splayed over you as if you three had passed out from fucking too much.
But there, on the periphery of your vision, you saw a door, which wasn’t there before. You rubbed your eyes to check if you weren’t imagining things, but fortunately enough, you weren’t. It was there.
“Kaveh! Al-haitham! Wake up!” you exclaimed, pinching their noses to wake them up.
“Wha…? What happened…?” Kaveh asked, groaning at how heavy both you and Al-haitham were.
“Could you tone it down please?” the younger man scolded, still planning to go back to resting.
But as you were about to move, all the activity you did came crashing on you.
“Oww my fucking back!”
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EPILOGUE
“And so, that is the conclusion of our research on Ruin No. 255b. While our paper is far from conclusive, we would like to take another look at it for more study.”
Al-haitham ended your presentation with a resounding applause from the panel of sages. They were more or less satisfied, saying how the three of you always produced great research which definitely warranted high honors upon graduation.
“But still, I’m curious,” the sage from the Amurta Darshan began. “This section here…on how leyline energy affects an individual’s libido. It’s so incredibly detailed that I have to ask how you were able to get this data.”
You smiled nervously, as you exchanged looks with the two men. “Well, we just had a few volunteers…”
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oldguydoesstuff · 11 months
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Bare CPU Printed Circuit Board for the Alpha NT XL366 workstation I designed back in 1995 or so. This was an obscure model of an obscure product line, made by a company (Digital Equipment Corp.) that is now itself obscure. To be honest I don't even remember much about this machine now.
What I do remember is the HUUUUGE fight I got into with our Signal Integrity team while I was designing this, over decoupling capacitors.
Decoupling caps are small components that hold a charge to help even out power when a circuit is active. This board featured hundreds of them, smaller than a grain of rice (see photo comparison of mounting pads vs rice grain below).
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Our Signal Integrity team was tasked with making sure everything was electrically stable, so they required many hundreds of these to be added to the board, based on power simulations they did. Trouble was, they wanted so many, we couldn't even build the board.
My job as the Systems Engineer here was to meet the requirements from the SI team, but also from manufacturing, and the requirement that my PCB layout techs don't go insane trying to place and route the board. SI really only cared about signal quality, so they would not relent, and I ended up getting shouted at at one point by a junior SI engineer who was also under a lot of stress, when I said "There are different schools of thought on this.." and he screamed THERE ARE NOT DIFFERENT SCHOOLS OF THOUGHT ON THIS!!
It got to the point where the product was not going to get built, because we just couldn't fit like a thousand of these tiny caps on the board, we needed to ditch at least 25% of them to have a hope. The models were the models though, and you couldn't argue against them.
But then my boss got a genius idea. What if we could prove the simulation models were too conservative? We came up with an experiment where we would remove caps from an older system and measure the power supply noise, to see how many caps could be taken off before the system became unstable.
Me and the junior SI engineer were tasked with doing this experiment (later deemed The Decapitation Project), so we grabbed a Tektronix scope and Metcal soldering station and headed over to this abandoned lab we had in our old Maynard headquarters, a now creepy attic space on the 6th floor of an old mill building. Here were a few older Alphastation 3000 workstations we built years earlier, working but waiting to be recycled.
We had this special program that would thrash the CPU within an inch of its life, to put a big demand on the power supply system. While this was running, the SI engineer measured the power quality, while I proceeded to (very carefully to avoid short-circuiting the system) actually desolder caps from the board while the workstation was running.
We managed to get about 1/3 of them off before there was any noticeable effect, and we found one specific type of cap was not doing much of anything at all. We took the data back to the head of the SI team, and he finally relented and let us remove several hundred capacitors. (He also buried the report and data I had, because he didn't want the bad publicity - I remember being mad about that)
The system got built after that, and worked just fine. We did try to enact a small bit of petty revenge on the SI team manager though - there was a recognition event for people involved on the project, and me and our PCB procurement guy decided to give the SI team manager a special "Faraday Award" for achievement in capacitance (Farads are a measure of capacitance - geeky eng joke). We took an old bowling trophy with a giant, beer-can sized electrolytic capacitor strapped to the top of it as the award. He was a no-show so we didn't get to present it. Those SI guys never did have much of a sense of humor.
Anyway, long story sorry. Just thinking of it recently because I was helping someone at work with an analog simulation and I remembered this..
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moonlit-positivity · 16 days
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Some of my best moments of healing came when I started to understand some of these snippets of wisdom from others:
People can only perceive what they know.
Comprehension is also a part of communication. If they can't comprehend what you're saying then there is no point in wearing yourself out.
There is a big difference in "listening to respond" vs "listening to be right" and most people do not understand this.
Most people on social media aren't looking to have healthy communication. They're looking to argue. Find other places for conversation outside of the comments section.
People cannot tell you how you're feeling. That is information only you have access to. They are projecting themselves onto you.
People often hide behind projection when theyre hurt. Don't take things personally.
Emotionally immature people cannot understand the difference between communicating vs reacting.
What's the difference?
Communicating = listening with intent to understand
Reacting = allowing the perceived threat to dominate the mood
Triggers can also show us parts of ourselves that are unhealed and in need of attention. Though it is never okay to force yourself to "work through them" if you do not relate.
"There is always more work to do" = this is a lifelong process. Don't try to rush it so hard.
Breaks are allowed and actually necessary in order to catch up.
"Trust in yourself & trust in the process" = you know what's best for you. Nobody else should be telling you how to live your life.
"Do something else" = your sanity is in danger if you don't learn how to step away from the stress. Don't ignore your mind & body asking for a break.
"Life is not a game" = take yourself and your health seriously.
It's normal to seek chaos while recovering. Sometimes we are hard wired for chaos due to the nature of our traumas. Healing can leave you feeling "boring" and that's normal.
Recovery can also be reflected in our outward appearances. "As I grew inward, my outward appearance changed too." The changes we make inside can have a very deep impact on the way we take care of ourselves and the way we project that outwardly through our appearance. Sometimes negatively, sometimes positively. It can fluctuate and change just like we do.
You're not alone. I guarantee you, whatever it is you're going through- there's a community out there for it.
Sometimes you will never know how to move forward. These are the moments that require the most kindness and compassion you can find.
There is such a huge awkward transitionary phase between "I'm stuck repeating old habits" vs "oh okay, I've learned enough to move on now, but I don't want to give up my old identity and now I'm even more panicked than I've ever been in my entire life what the fuck is happening please help me" and this is so fucking normal.
When that happens, just be as kind and patient as you can be. The old parts are in need of patience. They are clinging for a reason. Maybe the closure long forgotten? Maybe the underlying issues finally able to be spoken out loud and addressed? Give them the safety of knowing they are safe, well loved, and that you're still gonna be you in all that you are when they're ready to put those burdens down.
Change doesn't look good at first. At first it feels like ripping your skin off. There's a subtle power in allowing it to feel uncomfortable and doing it anyway. You can tap that power just by waking up and staying committed.
"You're stronger than you think, give yourself some kudos, you're worth the effort to heal." These are all words that others have said to me. Take the positive words that ppl give you and use them to your advantage. They're actually not bullshitting you. They actually really do want you to succeed. Draw on them to get you there.
In the same vein, ask trusted ppl what they think your strong points are. I've had ppl tell me "you're resourceful. You're strong in how you advocate for yourself." It can help to hear these types of things. It's okay to ask!
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noonblight · 1 year
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Nemona, Female Neurodivergence, and Good Representation
Spoilers for the plot of ScarVi ahead, but here’s my full analysis and breakdown of Nemona!
So, I know what you’re thinking, ‘Game Freak making an autistic female main character? You must be out of your mind. This is clearly projecting!’
I’d like to preface this gently by saying that this is obviously just my personal conclusion based on subtextual analysis, but also, I’d like to call attention to the fact that Japan isn’t like the west when it comes to neurodiverse representation, and there isn’t a lot of Japanese media that explicitly uses the word autism. It’s a little unrealistic to expect Game Freak to call it by name, especially considering they make games for children and topics such as neurodiversity are often viewed as a more ‘adult’ thing to discuss. You are free to disagree with me, but please be polite in the replies of this post, as I only wish to have a constructive conversation about a writing decision that has been made.
Anyway, on to the good stuff and I must apologise in advance for this post being long, but I wanted to be thorough!
I played through all of ScarVi and I’m actually very pleased with Nemona as a character. I feel like despite the game’s technical quality, there was a real effort made this time around to flesh out the named characters. Nemona is one of my favourite examples of this, because her arc isn’t solely about being autistic, but it’s clearly a large part of her character and affects her life in a lot of ways.
Nemona is a battle fanatic, and it’s very likely one of her special interests. It’s how she connects with other people such as the main character, and it’s something she devotes her entire being and effort to. She never says she does so in order to impress others, but rather because it’s something she heavily enjoys.
Right from the start, Nemona is a successful champion rank trainer and wants you to become a trainer who can rival her in skill, and feels like it would lead to a better friendship if you could do that. Nemona’s priorities always centre around battling, and doing as much of it as possible. She’s the one who asks Geeta for permission to bestow a Tera orb upon your player. She gives you tips about the battle courts at different gyms. She even raises a new team of Pokémon throughout the game just to have an excuse to battle you at your level and watch you improve.
Nemona even loves battling so much that she finds it a little strange when others aren’t as enthusiastic about battling as she is, below is a quote I found particularly interesting because it really does show that she can be socially oblivious at times when it comes to societal expectations about what is an appropriate place or time to have a Pokémon battle.
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Accompanying this, multiple times throughout the game she exhibits impulsive or oblivious behaviour and asks you to have another battle with her straight after another battle you’ve just had, usually due to being excited. Sometimes other characters will need to remind her that your Pokémon require healing first, or that there are other things that need doing. She doesn’t always understand how things should be handled in a conventional manner, despite being an expert on the topic of battling! (Or, she gets too excited and can’t help herself.)
In post-game, there’s even a scene where she doesn’t seem to understand that another student is reluctant to battle her and makes an excuse to leave early because she’s so far from being a casual trainer that it intimidates him. This is, in my opinion, actually quite a sad scene. She genuinely continues to think that he will challenge her to a battle at a different time, not realising that her ‘unusual’ enthusiasm and skill has scared him away, and that he has no intention of returning. A situation I’m sure a lot of neurodiverse children would connect with because it so accurately depicts what it’s like when others don’t share your interests to the degree that you hoped they would. This scene also hints at Nemona’s trouble with reading the emotions and intentions of others.
Nemona’s final post-game scene (which please, I BEG of you to go watch, it’s so good) confirms this outright, and also gives one of the most relatable lines in media about what it’s like to be neurodivergent in any way, especially as somebody who is younger:
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Something I like about Nemona is that despite being socially oblivious and pushy with her interests, she is still a very sympathetic and friendly character. Not only does she cheer you on throughout the game, but she doesn’t only do it for the sake of serving only her own interests! She’s genuinely caring about others around her too.
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(Nemona, congratulating the player when they beat her at the end of her storyline after she goes full-out. She is thrilled that you beat her! I love this moment.)
Throughout the last chapter in the game, there’s a lot of great moments with Nemona that show how caring she is. I think the best moments however, are where she tries to understand and support a scared Miraidon, and where she tries to help Arven.
Initially, she is misunderstanding and expects that the second Miraidon will be friendly and that it will be a family reunion, but once she realises this is not the case, she immediately switches to trying to support your Miraidon in any way she can. Despite not understanding why Miraidon is so afraid of returning to the Crater and facing the other Miraidon, she can be observed multiple times attempting to encourage it during the final battle, and can be seen in the final cutscene of the game with her arm around it as the group walks back to the academy.
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(Nemona, displaying an implied struggle with visually judging the emotions of others.)
Nemona is also the one who suggests after a very heavy story ending that everyone goes home, and that they take the scenic route back to town. She clearly doesn’t know what to say to Arven about what he’s just been through, but she attempts to make him feel a bit better regardless.
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I think this makes for particularly good representation, because not only is she less feminine than previous female rivals with her more sporty style and interests (something very common with autistic women) it also shows depth. I’ve seen autistic characters before that fall into the stereotype of coming across as emotionally detached or cold, or far too over-reactive. But I think Nemona strikes a lovely balance of caring, emotional, and socially lacking.
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Now, on to a smaller detail that I want to point out that I really like the inclusion of is that glove. I could talk about how Nemona displays memory issues at times or other smaller symptoms of autism, but I really want to talk about the glove. I made a post on this subject the moment Nemona’s design was revealed on the official website, but I like that the game content openly confirmed that Nemona has motor issues with her dominant hand.
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(Nemona, needing to support her arm when about to throw a Pokéball, or when she is about to terastalise her Pokémon. The burst of energy from the tera orb must make things a bit more difficult for her. A lovely small detail in her battles.)
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(Nemona, confirming that she has trouble with Pokéballs. Something her website entry also stated.)
Now I’ve saved this until last because this is, in my opinion, a smaller detail that they didn’t need to include to make Nemona read as neurodiverse, but I’m thrilled they did. Nemona is the only character who wears an arm brace, something I picked up on immediately in the trailers before the games released. No other trainers wear one for the terastalisation mechanic, unlike the Z-bands from Alola. And even though Pokémon battling is her bread and butter, she still struggles with certain aspects of it! Not only is this trouble with motor skills realistic, but it’s also a very accurate portrayal of motor dysfunction that a lot of neurodiverse people experience in their day to day lives.
To bring this all to a close, I think that even though it isn’t stated outright, I believe Nemona isn’t just representation of neurodiversity in women, but I think that she is also GREAT representation. She knows that she has problems, and tries her best regardless! She is kind, and caring, even though she has difficulties with reading the emotions of others and understanding social expectations. Her entire story may be about making friends with you through the medium of battling, but it’s also a story about how she’s struggled in the past to connect with others because of her love of that medium.
I truely do feel like she’s a lovely depiction to be in a children’s game, because she is a very positive depiction of something that a lot of kids go through, and in the end, she gets to be herself and she gets to be happy by being true to that self. She is never forced to change to make friends, and instead befriends you and the other characters simply by remaining as she is.
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ascendanttarot · 8 months
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PAC: Messages From Your Spirit Guides
Hi everyone! This PAC will cover whether your spirit guides have any messages or guidance for you. This is a little shorter than the last PAC but only a little bit, promise! I'll list a few signs for every pile before your reading to ensure you have picked the right pile for yourself. If you resonate with one or more signs, that is meant to be your reading. And! You’ll get a channelled song! :)
Please remember your fate is not set in stone so your answers may change depending on the actions you take and will take if you please. Tarot is not a substitute for professional advice. The images I’ve used are not mine.
From left to right: Pile 1, Pile 2, Pile 3
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Pile 1
Signs:
You play guitar or favour the sound of acoustic guitar in your songs
You listen to the following bands/artists: Hozier, Florence + the Machine, Mitski, and other similar artists
This is a weird one, but when cleaning you like buying the sprays/wipes/detergent with a fruitier smell?
You like going on nature walks
You read poetry
Your cards: The Tower, Queen of Cups rx, (clarified by the Six of Swords rx) Page of Wands
Your message: Something unfolded in ways you could have never imagined. It’s like all your backup plans fell apart too, and your optimism has been taken away from you. I just heard ‘victim of circumstance’. This is a difficult message to give, but your guides are saying whatever happened, happened beyond anyone’s control. You tried to shield yourself from these difficult emotions by hardening your heart, creating distance between you and your feelings... but you’re spirit guides are asking you, “Is this really worth it all?”. It won’t be an easy feat to move on from this situation, and your guides understand that. However, they’re saying that when the time comes and the right opportunity is in front of you to take that first step of healing, please take it. The best part of your life requires a childlike sense of wonder. It’s going to require a lot more determination and ambition than what you’re feeling now. Your guides are saying to take your time to feel messy, and when it’s time to heal, don’t rush yourself to do that too. They’re here for you if you ask them. They believe in you even if you don’t believe in yourself, but they are waiting patiently and happily for a time when you’ll start standing by your back too.
Thank you for letting me be your reader, Pile 1!
Song: In Your Own Sweet Time by Zaska, Karen Cowley and Hozier
Pile 2
Signs:
You have an alternative sense of style
You love 80s music. I just heard Wham and The Cure to name a few of the bands that popped up in my intuition
Odd sign to give, but you may have had a vaporwave phase? If you know, you know
You like Fantasy and Sci-Fi books and shows
Another odd message to give here—you may be sensitive to touch, but it goes both ways? Like you can only wear certain fabrics, or you like soft things, but also people may say you give good hugs
Your Cards: 8 of Swords rx, 6 of Cups, The World
Your Message: I just saw the image of your spirit guides popping open a bottle of champagne with a knife before chucking (yes, that violently) streamers and confetti! You know why? Because. You. Did. That. You’ve just come out of a period in your life when you had to do some intense shadow work. You’ve worked on your biases, and have started to fix your flawed systems on your environment and yourself; your spirit guides could not be more proud of you. They’re celebrating 24 hours a day 7 days a week because that chapter of your life is over! This new phase of your life will be given gently to you with the love and compassion you deserve. I think this may be an opportunity to let yourself be seen by others again. At the very least you’ll be hanging out with old friends and making new ones, but at the most, I’m seeing possibly an opportunity for a project to start online. Either way, your spirit guides will have your back for that in the future. For now, though, they’re asking you to put your feet up and high-five yourself for how far you’ve come!
Thank you for letting me be your reader, Pile 2!
Your Song: Blame It on the Boogie by The Jacksons (I’m serious, they’re having a party right now haha!)
Pile 3
Signs:
You prefer the dusk over the dawn
You like RnB, so artists like Victoria Monét and Ashanti might be familiar artists to have in your playlists. I also heard Destiny’s Child and Ms. Lauryn Hill
I feel like you might like, collect, or work with crystals and metals. I just saw some people here may wear protective jewellery
You like sports, or were heavily involved in sports when you were younger, but you aren’t anymore
I just heard ‘helping hand’, so you may just be a really helpful and generous person. You’d be the friend people go to if they need advice on something
Your Cards: 2 of Wands, 2 of Swords, King of Cups
Your Message: Okay this feels pretty straightforward. Your spirit guides want you to know that you’re coming into a divine partnership (not necessarily romantic if that’s not you’re thing or if you’re aromantic, so this could be a friendship or a business partner even) very soon. With the emphasis on the number two in this reading, this may correlate with timings in your life. You may meet this person in 2 weeks, 2 months, or even within the span of 2 years, but there’s a strong message of divine timing working in your favour. I feel you may have issues trusting the people around you to have good intentions because of negative experiences in the past. This person won’t break that mental belief for you, you’ll do that yourself, but they will certainly be the catalyst for it. Maybe the reason why you’re so jaded is because you’ve hoped for this so long the hope soured to cynicism, but this is not the natural state of your soul. This person will offer you the emotionally mature partnership you’ve dreamed of, with a sensitivity for you and your feelings you aren’t used to. Your spirit guides can’t wait for you to meet them because I’m hearing this relationship will be healing for all the parties involved. They’re with you on this every step of the way.
Thank you for letting me be your reader, Pile 3!
Your Song: Love Is on My Side by Brandy
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sgiandubh · 5 months
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Machiavelli took a day off
... when the Telegraph article was written in great haste, by someone blatantly given a last minute task, who had no fucking idea to whom she was talking and what exactly meant the PR vetted or even prompted questions.
Instead of a line-by-line analysis, we'll take things differently, on this page, using the '5 W rule of journalism' (or even non-fiction writing, in general, if you ask me):
Who? SRH, EP of the OL series and one of the two male leads of the TCND series, which will be shortly broadcast by Channel 4, in the UK and IE only (and Movistar in ES). The rest of the world is not concerned.
What? A promotional article, focused on the actor's personality, CV and projects.
When? At a particular moment in time, just after the SAG-AFTRA strike and before shooting OL's eighth and last season.
Where? Crucial to place it in LHR (to imply he is 'just visiting') and God forbid it would be in GLA, which (for some curious reasons) seems to be off-limits.
Why? An actor with solid credentials hopes to keep agents and employers interested, after above OL project is done, which is rather sooner than later. Also addressing (as per the actor's PR agent specific requirements) three particular issues: the Palestine letter, the Bond project and his 'private life'.
Onwards to the three issues at stake, which probably prompted the article. In chronological order, this time. And no, I am not going to address the Scottish independence mention, because this is a sincere, well-known position of his and this page never bitches about people's convictions - also because I educated myself on it and I agree with S.
Palestine:
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It was important, for obvious reasons, to push damage control a tad further. Also, strictly from a hypothetical POV, I would be very curious to read your compare and discuss thoughts with regard to this particular post on this page:
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A sort of answer came in the Telegraph paper, too. Not only to me (I am less than nobody), but to all the people (of which we were many) who thought he should not get involved in this type of debate:
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This is not the first time he uses this specific talking point. Last time known to me was on the day the Queen died, on X (I looked for that post, but can't find it, because I am just a filthy lurker, like that: but it is there).
The really interesting question, therefore, is: does he/somebody monitor what is being said on Tumblr? The answer is, I think, yes, and it shows. Will it stop me talking in here? Nope, as I trust my discerning abilities, for the moment. Other than that, his damage control op does not bring anything new to the table.
Bond:
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What can I say, Sir? While there's life, there's apparently hope. But that doesn't translate well, given the context of your interview. That spells desperate and it's not a great picture. Also, let us keep a pious moment of silence in fond memory of a 25 year old who had a dream and the dream went to Daniel Craig (who I detested as Bond, because every girl has her Bond and mine is Pierce Brosnan, amen).
I know people still speculate about it. I have very high reservations and I cannot, for the life of me, seriously consider even thinking about the possibility. He could do it with flying colors, no doubt. Does he stand a chance? I prefer to have zero expectations on it and be floored if it happens. If he naively still yearns/pushes for it, this interview could very well be as abysmal as C's VF tantrum.
'Private life':
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Ugh. Slippery when wet. I have already touched the subject in a reactive re-blog of @samheughanswife's post about it and I will not get back to what I said even without reading the article.
Some more extraordinary wording, in here: 'there might even be space for a personal life' - begs the question 'when?' In general? (in general, all men are created equal, too - it's practice that kills the theory) Now? (it is my staunch belief the answer is yes). After OL? (then and now and after Hiroshima, too). Can you program these things? (nope, stars simply aligned) Heh. Enough said. Also, 'might' spells cheap insinuation to me. But that's just me, a blonde voice in the audience.
Now, onwards to the daughter thing. I believe this specifically addresses the cheap, abundant clickbait content on You Tube, hence the vague 'online' reference (not Tumblr, not fans, not blogs - he is not C, he kept it clean). Such as this very recent one (last 'clip' on the topic was five days ago):
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The two I chose to share here, which are very conspicuous FAKES, are originating from the same 'source', an account that seems obsessed with S&C and has no problem changing its narrative three times a week, if needed. My opinion? PR induced shite, to prod numbers/interest and see what sticks.
No newborn daughter? I hear no lies.
As for OL leaving 'no time for relationships', ahem. *urv will be thrilled to read that, I bet the farm. As will Flukenzie Floozy, at least her - damn, she was persistent! Also, hello, back to 2014-2016 playbook, aren't we?
No new relationships? Whatever for, when IYKYK? I hear no lies.
'I want a cat' ('because she's great', says my shipper brain on autopilot), 'but I am too scared even for that'. Humph. A very poor lie. But admitting you wanted and got a Ca(i)t scares the bejesus out of you, since 2016. I hear no lies. Yes, I am being tongue in cheek and damn the consequences.
Morality of it?
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The easiest solution is never to take personal questions in interviews or panels. Why These Two still do it completely mystifies me.
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accio-victuuri · 5 months
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Sugar Rush : November CPNs
What started out as a relatively quiet month after a chaotic October, turned into something else because of a few candies. Especially the whole 11/19 fiasco that surprised us all. LOL. As usual, this is for cpn-loving turtles only. Keep an open mind but still clown responsibly. I can’t believe we only have one month left for this year!
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If you wanna recap other years I have archived : 2021 ( one | two ) 2022 ( one | two ) 2023 ( one, july, august, september, october ) 2020 candies and some other sweets before I was doing round up posts may be found on my masterlist.
Let’s review the past month…
• Some side by side / parallel photos of GG ( Tod’s Milan ) and WYB ( Chanel Shenzhen ). They are both photographed with the very beautiful Liu ShiShi. Also the way they are the center of attention. KINGS! 👑
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• hoping they play tennis together 🎾 ; there is also a cpn out there about yibo being fully prepared for the game cause he had lacoste shoes and bag then a jacket that he used in wuzhen. people are speculating that XZ bought stuff for him to use cause he is the one who knows more and thought of this brand. this may seem like a stretch but you never know with this fandom when a seemingly insignificant observation becomes a big candy along the way.
• 2021 vs 2023 beach photos similarities + xiamen coincidence and it’s connection to ZZ’s ideal life painting
• LHK ( Liu Haikuan ) giving clues about BJYX? + Part 2 of comments
11/7, GG was announced as Boucheron’s global brand ambassador, then people remembered that one time WYB wore stuff from the brand. So now we have an unintentional couple jewelry incidence😂😂
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• the sound of an eagle 🦅
• some similarities in forwarding 119 message, yeah i know celebrities like them are sort of required to bring attention to stuff like this. however, WYB is known to support this cause and even made a VCR specifically for it. if you look at the actual post, theirs is the top 2 in terms of likes and the rest of the celebrities are not the usual ones similar to the boys’ caliber. Another clue that this is WYB’s advocacy of sorts, most, if not all top comments are from his fans. so ZZ joining in on spreading the message seems ( to me and some cpfs ) like influenced by WYB.
Next is they both filmed VCRs for "People in My Heart" - "Classic Characters" series. We just love seeing them support the same projects ^^
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• NARS live drawing
• Candies from WYB’s 11/12 douyin post. Mainly the parallel about the same walls and floor.
• XZ fell asleep on WYB during the golden core scene
• Interpreting YBO’s 11/16 weibo caption
• 11/19/23 double update candies
• similar necklace??? ( cough in vain )
• the full story ( so far ) behind 11/19 📝
• Talking about this a bit late considering when the whole CPN started about this GG mural for GG. There are side by side comparisons of the eyes on the mural and Yibo’s. The CPN being they used WYB’s eyes for that mural.
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I usually let people have free reign on clowning but this one isn’t for me personally. just because it’s obviously a mural commissioned by GUCCI which a big brand that couldn’t care less about the CP. Maybe it’s a coincidence how similar it is? Because there is a reference photo that should be followed. Also, this is GG’s time to shine. This mural is his & him. I think this is an example for cpfs to learn to separate the boys as individuals, especially for things that are work related and most especially their achievements. While I do believe they influence each other greatly, it’s important to not make every single thing a romantic relation.
• the mystery driver is seen again 👀
• 11/22 Yibo scenery post 🍬
• One night in Beijing Song + 11/23 XZS post
• I don’t really wanna clown with Redmi but the black and white theme from XZS and then the next day it’s Redmi. I was surprised with this cause all the promos were supposed to be related to the scifi themed ad blockbuster!
A coincidence 👀👀👀👀
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• small candies form IQIYI scream night 😱
• wyb acknowledging light signs and calls us wangba
• XZ’s 11/27 Airport and Selfie Clues
• there is some talk with BXGs regarding WYB’s redmi appearance, it looks like he was bitten by the mosquito again. lol. I usually just find cpn like this funny cause there is always deniability. also hello to the mosquito who loves to bite the center of his neck.
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I’m separating these next entries cause it’s not new. I just found myself revisiting bts content and clowning about it. old candy still tastes good! 💯
WYB signs 520 to GG
WYB’s small steps to GG but robe gets caught
Something is funny and XZ has to tell WYB
Flirting and Fighting? “WYB’s love you”
XZ got hurt and WYB said he is gonna kiss it better?
-END.
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cowardnthief · 2 years
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10 actual ADHD study tips
from a student with ADHD
(or if you just have trouble concentrating)
1. put your phone in different room.
no, really. there can be any number of excuses not to (i use it as an alarm/timer, what if there's an emergency, but i use it during breaks) but i guarantee that you will focus better without the ability to check your social media. if you're genuinely worried about missing a phone call, don't put it on silent, and leave it across the room so you can hear it, but make sure it's out of reach.
2. invest in some noise-cancelling or muffling headphones.
they're a life-saver. i use them to help with sensory overloads, but now i wear them pretty much every time i study. regular headphones with some kind of neutral backing noise also work pretty well.
3. don't listen to music.
maybe somewhere, somehow, there exists a person who can actually listen to music and focus, but i've never met one. my adhd means i get distracted by anything. i'm a good multitasker, but not when the task requires lots of thought, like my science or math homework, or that english essay i've been putting off. if science is distracting for you as well, put on a neutral background noise (no, not lo-fi hiphop beats - unless that works for you). i usually put rain sounds or white or brown noise (the latter is my favourite).
4. break big tasks into small chunks.
you've probably heard this one before, but adhd makes tackling big tasks seem really daunting. like, where do you even start? before beginning a massive project, make a list of every little thing you need to do. it might seem stupid or excessive, but i can't stress how much it helps. it also gives you a sense of accomplishment whenever you knock a task off the list.
5. if you know you're gonna procrastinate, try and do it productively.
this one is one i'm still getting used to. i realised, after hours of sitting at my desk, not wanting to start on my essay but not wanting to actively NOT write my essay, and just generally feeling like shit, that it would have been better to spend those hours doing that thing i wanted to do (learn that song on my guitar, finally finish the painting sitting on my desk, write the poem that i had scribbled in my notebook a week ago). if you know you're not going to get started on your work, you might as well do something else that isn't as pressing but you still need to get done. it's okay not to be 100% productive al the time.
6. have a clear workspace.
this is a big one. i found that having a lot of stuff on or around my desk just makes me feel fenced in. i like to have 1 lamp, 1 cup of pens/pencils/highlighters, a cup of tea, tissues, and whatever i'm working on. when you're done with a task, PUT IT AWAY ASAP. that way, it doesn't build up, and you can feel ready to start on the next thing.
6.5. eliminate distractions.
i feel like this relates to the point above, but don't have lots of visible posters/lights/tempting tasks. maybe close your blinds or your door, or study in a library instead of your room if it is too bright and colourful.
7. the pomodoro method (organising your breaks).
LOVE LOVE LOVE THIS. the pomodoro method involves working for a consistent slot of time (usually 25 minutes, but whatever works for you) and then having a short break (5-10 minutes), and then a long break every 2-5 "slots" (15-20 minutes). if you don't trust yourself to stick to a timer, get a cute app on your laptop - there are heaps of different themes, and it will help you organise your time and tasks. instead of thinking about a task like "it will take me 2 hours", think about it like "it will take me 4 slots of time", and it will be much less daunting.
(note: for your breaks, try not to reach for your phone/social media. this is a rabbit hole. maybe draw for a minute, or read a few pages of a book. do something you can easily and quickly put away.)
8. organise yourself, but try not to hyperfixate on it.
apps like notion can be really helpful when organising tasks/your workspace, but they can also suck hours of your time away if you're not careful. not everything has to be perfect/meticulously planned, and you're not working on your homework by planning your weekly schedule. speaking from experience, it's really easy to get caught up in something that may feel productive, but really isn't.
9. this is really niche, but... for my reading-glasses wearers:
WEAR THEM WHEN YOU STUDY. i'm very mildly farsighted, which means wearing glasses when i read for long periods of time helps me prevent headaches. technically, i can go without them, and for a few years i usually did, but i've noticed that wearing them when i study has the benefit of getting me in the right headspace, and also stops me from looking up or around my room too often, as the prescription makes me dizzy when looking at things far away.
10. just get started.
i know you hate hearing this, but usually, knocking one or two things off your list can help you get motivated. often, things that seem really difficult or time consuming aren't as bad once you've gotten started.
good luck!
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irondad-and-spiderson · 2 months
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Hi! Sorry to bother, idk if you take asks like this (if you don't feel free to ignore!) but do you know any good fics where SI employees bully/threaten/mistreat Peter and Tony comes to the rescue? Thank you so much for your time 💙💙
Hi! I absolutely do! I might just take forever to respond and take your prompt a little loosely 😃 The three under the cut are employees with (valid) security concerns. I know there are more that I can’t find, so anyone feel free to add some 😉
A Big Security Issue by FotiBrit
When Peter lost his Stark Industries Staff ID, Tony handed the kid his own. That was never an issue, until Peter had to check in at the front desk.
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The Cusp of a Breath by SpaceCowboysFromMars
“That was the most stressful thing I’ve ever experienced.” Peter says as he and Tony make their way into the crowd. He wipes his sweaty palms on his thighs, cringing when he remembers how much the suit costs.
“You got shot on patrol last month.”
“This was worse.”
Or; Peter is introduced as the official heir of Stark Industries, but not everyone is completely welcoming of his presence. Luckily, he has a pretty awesome mentor to keep him on track.
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the love (and other things) you inherit by ironfidus
“Which is why,” Catherine says, unblinking, as delicately as she can, “the board requires that you name a successor in the event of your untimely demise. The risk has simply become too great for us to ignore.”
Tony Stark’s spent a large portion of his life thinking about legacy: his legacy, his company’s, Iron Man’s. He’s spent a lot of time fighting to protect his legacy, too. But today, with a lawyer as his witness and FRIDAY as his one-AI cheerleading squad, he stops, takes a step back, and lets go instead—because for the first time, his legacy isn’t about him, not really.
And as FRIDAY would say: it’s about damn time.
Alternatively: Tony updates his will and gets himself an heir, Peter gets a promotion (for lack of a better word), and the rest of the world gets a wake-up call—in that order. Ft. an impatient board of directors, a Stark Industries charity gala, and a universe in which Tony Stark gets to be happy.
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Security Bias by Sara (ctrsara)
Happy Hogan asks Daren Anderson to help him out with a little project.
My take on idk-bruh-20's irondad fic ideas #128: Fic where, after a security incident in which some bozo accused Peter of trespassing at Stark Tower, Happy holds an emergency briefing for the entire SI security team.
The topic of the briefing? The absolutely untouchable, vital-to-know-if-you-want-to-keep-your-job level of importance of one Peter Parker.
:)
Five Times Tony Stark's Fabled Intern Just Showed Up + One Time He Was Invited by kingdomfaraway
While Leroy didn’t like gossip, he wasn’t immune to it and he’d heard about a young boy claiming to be Tony Stark’s intern showing up randomly throughout the building. He just figured it was some random mystery, a Stark Industries cryptid if you will.
Never did he think he’d have a sighting.
“Are you Peter Parker?” Leroy questioned, narrowing his eyes at the young boy, looking for any signs of deceit.
“Oh yeah, that’s me, hi!” Possibly Fabled Intern Peter Parker reached into his pocket and pulled out a badge and lanyard, this one with his face on it and INTERN written underneath it. “Mr. Stark got me a badge so I can get nachos whenever I want.”
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Chapter 1 of 200 Park Avenue (5+1) by Sara (ctrsara)
Peter hasn't seen Mr. Stark, or been able to go out as Spider-man since he turned down his invitation to join the Avengers a few weeks ago. He ends up at Stark Tower rather randomly, finding an unlikely hero in Mr. Stark's AI, then keeps returning for different purposes.
The first chapter is a short I did for Comfortember 2022 that I've just kept thinking about. I'm building on that story and creating a 5+1 to explore the new dynamic (post-Homecoming) in another way.
Or
5 Times Peter Visited Stark Tower and 1 Time He Stayed
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Home by patrochilles_trash ((it’s less angsty than it sounds))
Tony had been out of the country for weeks on SI business, and Peter was having a hard time. He missed him, plain and simple.
Okay. Maybe not so plain and simple.
Peter had a rough time in the weeks and months that followed the final defeat of Thanos in the ruins of the Compound. Thrust back into life, only to be forced to fight for the lives of the entire universe for the second time at only sixteen-years-old, and then to be told that his last living relative died in a crash during his five year absence did wonders for his psyche.
He developed a nasty form of separation anxiety toward his mentor-turned-adoptive-father -- not that Tony fared much better himself -- and his therapist had said it was a side effect of PTSD and that it would get better over time.
OR
A small field trip fic to SI where Tony has been out of the country for a few weeks, and Peter isn't handling it well.
Don't be fooled. This garbage fluff to avoid my other fics that I'm writing
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drawnfamiliarfaces · 3 months
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I was rewatching rc9gn and revisited “Dawn of the Driscoll” and I gotta say, Randy’s art of healing is crazily overpowered.
He revived someone who was reduced to nothing but bones and had been dead for who knows how long. Not only that but it was later shown that he revived various animals who had dissected and most were nothing but eyes. Not to mention he did all that from just skimming through the instructions.
Imagine the full potential that he could unlock if he studied the art of healing fully and practiced enough times!
Oh BOI YEs. It's ridiculous how overpowered Randy can come across, because the show wanted to make a funny episode (and we love that of course but still xD).
Like, how strong of a potential this boy has, if he managed to execute what must be one of the hardest techniques in the Ninja arsenal? Just imagine all the implications of that ability??? To literally save someone from a brink of death/resuscitate them? No wonder some ninjas go power crazy! I would too, if i had ability to bring back the dead!
Though I do like to think that there are more nuance to all of that, than it was shown in the series. (A bit of a me yapping on beneath, feel free to ignore it.)
One of the things that actually bothers me about this ability - is that technically, for something called the Art of Healing, we never saw actual healing performed (because its a kid's show duh but still) BUT it has been used in the show more to 'restore' inanimate objects (the bike) and bring someone "back to life" (skeleton & dissected animals) - which IMO is not 'healing' but more of a necromancy ability.
After all, Randy didn't restore Driscoll to full life (gave a fully functioning body back) and the animals/body parts are also in their post-mortem states. So, what he essentially did is reanimate remains, by (perhaps) returning their souls and binding them to what was left of mortal bodies (which probably reflected very badly on their mental state = reason why Driscoll&animals were full of anger/insanity) or sharing some of his own life energy to restore minimal physical 'aliveness' (I mean a bunch of eyeballs in a jar could hardly be called alive, but they do perform their basic function of looking/blinking). Seems like classic nercomancy to me!
Of course one could argue that the reason it happened is because Randy didn't execute the technique correctly, because he 'skimmed' through instructions, and that potentially he could have restored their bodies too....but I like to think that the ability have its limitations - and returning long-dead bodies to full life back (basically rebuilding a whole creature from a body part/single cell scenario) is one of them.
Otherwise, in my opinion, while it is impressive that Randy 'revived' someone long dead, what he has done is technically one of the easiest (and thus more dangerous) variation of Art of Healing/basically Art of of Necromancy - reanimation through spiritual energy, but not actually returning someone to full life. Another variation of Art of Healing - is Restoration of Physical Body without any sort of Spiritual Energy - aka the freaking bike. I mean, is it really healing if one just restored the original form of the object without any actual prior life in it??? Bike is not the same as a human after all, its not alive in any sense, it doesn't have a soul/life energy.
So you see, in these two occasions Randy used Art of Healing, none of them actually healed anything. Because actual healing of live things is much harder! And further proof of my headcanons is in the plants.
The original reason Randy learned Art of Healing is to restore their Botanical project - and despite hitting at first full blast before Randy lost control of 'beams' - it never actually worked on it. I mean, we basically see the plant still dead even as an already alive Driscoll pops out behind them!
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So obviously healing a recently dead plant requires a much more fine touch/precise control than just full-blasting healing energy at long dead remains. And further emphasize on it we have with The Skunk Pine. The pine cone is alive and in whole condition - but the application of healing energy gave it a boost that accelerated its growth to the point that Randy implied that in few days it would be a fully functioning tree.
It kind of aligns with my understanding of how magical healing works - the healer basically shares their energy with the target to kick start and accelerate their own healing rapidly and sort of suppliment their reserves with the healer's help. But again - the pine cone was not injured/dead/damaged so it would be much easier for Randy to 'heal' it in order for it to grow rapidly - but no actual healing took place.
So the point of all this rambling recollections - is that while Randy's raw potential made something like reanimating and restoring look too easy - the things he did were already the easiest parts of Art of Healing because either option essentially requires only one aspect of either soul/body to be restored. The true Art of Healing is much more complicated. Not only it requires concentration and precise control/application in restoration of both physical and spiritual aspects, it also most likely has power requirements and repercussions to the user if they tried to overcome those limitations.
All in all, thinking about application of fantasy healing is always fun when you look deeper into its simplified canon version. ;)
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🦐 to recognize my post
Am I the asshole for asking my grandmother if I can move in with her?
This’ll be one of your classic reddit-style family dramas, I think. Back in late 2019 just before COVID, I (freshly 18 at the time) had run away from home with my mom and moved in with my best friend (R, 17 in 2019) and her (60s, deeply depressed) dad. Her dad and I were on good terms for a long time, but respectfully, he has a tendency to repress any issues he has with someone until they build into a bigger issue. Near toward November of 2020, he kicked me out on account of ‘not keeping a job and not doing anything around the house’ (I washed stagnant dishes often, took care of their several animals, and took out trash whenever I could, R and I think he was projecting his shitty roommates from when he was 20 onto me), so I needed a new place to move.
My own beloved father lives ten hours away, and offered for me to live with him. For months, I was preparing to pick up my entire life from the hometown I had lived in since I was 2 years old to move to a new state, and in the last month, I got cold feet and said I couldn’t make such a large change like that. My dad completely understood, and I went to look for a new place to stay, still living with R and her dad at this time.
During this period, I was getting closer with my grandmother on my mom’s side again. She was one of the few family members I felt comfortable with, and we often went to Panera for lunch dates to catch up on things. I won’t go super deep into why I’m so anxious about the rest of the family, because that would require an entire several page google document to explain (especially now that we’re actively banned from holidays).
It was around this time I asked my grandmother if I could move into one of her five or six spare rooms upstairs. My grandfather had died in the last couple of months, and I was confident that if she needed any help (she’s in her mid eighties) moving things upstairs or cleaning the house, I would be beyond glad to do it for her. She then hesitated and said it may be a better idea for me to move in with my dad after all (which was odd, because she hates my dad’s guts, as does the rest of my family), and I let it go after that. I didn’t push, I would just need to find a new place. 
Well, word got around, and she told my aunts and older cousins in passing. I don’t remember if I got sent anything in specific, but one of my aunts (mother’s older sister who I'm genuinely terrified of) absolutely fucking exploded on my (54 at the time) mom, giving her a several paragraph long shitstorm of a message saying she was a terrible mother for letting me take advantage of my grandmother, calling her horrible things, slurs, and insulting her wife, and it got back to me somehow. I was fucking shredded apart emotionally.
Since then, I have moved back in with my mother out of necessity and we have totally reconciled our relationship in the three or so years I’ve been home, and my entire mother’s side of the family- aside from my grandmother- has completely cut contact and don’t invite us to holidays anymore, for significantly more ridiculous reasons than me asking my grandmother what I did.
My mother’s side of the family ostracized her, myself, and my sister since my mother first married my dad 25ish years ago, and has just never treated her the same since, which explains some of the hostility (I want to specify, I’m confident that my mother did nothing outright wrong for this, my family is extremely far-right and EXTREMELY judgemental, and my mom bore unnecessary vitrol for everything she went through), but I need to know if I was actually the asshole for asking to move in with my grandmother, who even now still cares about me as family and lives alone. I could give less of a shit what my aunt thinks now (she lives an entire day’s drive away, in a different state as well), but I can’t help but shake the fear that I was actually taking advantage of her kindness or something of the sort. Was this a wrong thing to ask? Was this actually too much, and should I not have bothered?
What are these acronyms?
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yanderes-stuff · 7 months
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Yandere Johnathan Ohnn x reader 
3k words
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(credits to my friend Spooky aka ghosttown) 
At first… Things seemed so pleasant, and healthy.
You met Johnathan at college, it was a biology class you both required. He seemed rather charming in an awkward way. Always rather jumpy and hunched over in his own world. You couldn't help but admire him from afar at first; sometimes he'd notice and avoid eye contact as soon as his eyes met yours. 
Then your professor decided to put you in a group for a project. You exchanged numbers and ended up doing the projects together instead of as a group… They didn't want to bother with it, which was something Johnathan said he's used to by now. But he had to admit, he felt a lot more at ease working with you.
Over time you got to know more about each other, which was pleasant when you were both starting to feel burnt out from classes.
When break rolled around you ended up unwinding at his dorm, his room was covered in those science posters only dorks decorated with. It was a bit cute how passionate he was about science, he'd ramble to you while you sat and nodded. Barely understand anything he's saying. 
You didn't even realize you were starting to lean on each other for support. However, with college stress, it was clear he wanted somebody he could spend time with outside of classes. You gladly obliged, wanting the same.
There were places like the theater, the aquarium, and libraries where you two just enjoyed each other's presence. At this point, you started to suspect maybe you loved Johnathan as more than a friend.
You kept those feelings to yourself until there was a note slipped under your dorm room.
 My dearest Y/N,
I hope this letter finds you well. As a college student, I often feel awkward and uncertain in social situations, but you make me feel a sense of calm and comfort that is unlike anything else. From the moment I first saw you, I knew that you were special, and I have been drawn to you ever since.
I remember the time we spent together in Biology, and I felt like I was in a dream. Your laughter and smile light up the entire room, and I can't help but feel mesmerized by your presence. Your voice is like music to my ears, and your personality is so unique and special.
I know that I may come across as awkward and shy at times, but you bring out the best in me. I feel like I can be myself around you without fear of judgment or rejection. You make me feel accepted and loved in ways that nobody else ever has, and I am grateful for every moment that we spend together.
As a college student, life can often feel overwhelming and confusing, but you make it all seem worth it. You give me the strength and motivation to keep pushing forward, even on the toughest days. You are my source of inspiration and my reason for living.
I know that our time together may be short-lived, as college tends to be a transitional period in our lives. But I want you to know that you have made a lasting impact on me, and I will never forget the way you made me feel.
I hope that we can continue to spend time together, and maybe even build something more meaningful out of our friendship. No matter what the future holds, I want you to know that I will always cherish the memories and experiences we shared, and I will always have a special place in my heart for you.
So will you date me?
With love and affection,
~ Johnathan Ohnn
You were surprised reading it, using notes to ask seemed a little… unique but oddly fitting for him. You grabbed your phone, your heartbeat quickening. You told him about the letter and that you accepted his offer.
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Ohnn, sat at his desk, messy papers laid about as he smiled at his phone, laying it on his chest as he stared at the wall. He never felt love until now, of course, he had little crushes here and there but never an actual chance at something genuine.
He started daydreaming about you, sweet little thoughts. Giving you flowers, eating lunch in the cafeteria together. Maybe you'd like it if he made you lunch? The gears in his mind began to turn, he was never good with romance. But he knew that people usually appreciated small acts of kindness; he wanted to show you his sweeter side. Something he's been longing to show somebody for years. 
His mind decided and he made your favorite and packed it in a brown paper bag. Nothing too fancy but he hoped you'd appreciate it, He stored it somewhere safe before he decided to get some rest.
He stretched while standing, yawning as he slowly crawled into bed, he took his medication. His bed was a mess of sheets and blankets, but he tried to wrap himself comfortably while his mind wandered to his potential lover. 
Tossing and turning. His eyes were heavy, his mind would soon let him sleep. Thus began a long night of his imagination,  His romantic fantasies only brought him comfort from his otherwise paranoid mind. 
The morning came and sunlight peeked through his windows, For once he felt energized. It was Saturday thankfully, he messaged you asking if you'd like to go to a science museum. And of course, you said yes.
After getting dressed you met at the location he provided you, to him you looked so beautiful. Your eyes were soft and your lips looked just as delicate, you admired the museum in front of you. 
Your eyes followed his hand as he stretched his lanky hand out for you to hold. His hand enclosed yours entirely, and he stood tall over you; Smiling as he walked into the building.
Johnathan spoke up first "I've been here before, I-I think you'll like it. All the fossils here are so fascinating."
You looked at his gaze, his expression was that of joy. A man exploring his passion. "You seem very knowledgeable on these things, it's cute y'know"
He blushed a deep crimson, twirling his hair with his other hand nervously. "T-thank you! Nobody's ever called me that before…" 
It was the truth, all his colleagues found him to be strange. His awkward mannerisms were more unsettling to them, but you found them endearing. 
You began to walk towards a large fossil, it was a brontosaurus.
You stared in awe, it was about twenty-eight feet tall, and it took up the entire room. He shoved his hands in his pockets and looked up at the fossil. There was a plaque that read.
One of the most famous and complete skeletons of a brontosaurus was uncovered in the late 19th century and is now on display at the American Museum of Natural History in New York. The brontosaurus is an important and iconic species that has been represented in popular culture, including the classic children's book "The Land Before Time" and the Jurassic Park films.
You took his arm and held it against your body gently. Eyeing other fossils in the room, you guided him towards whatever caught your attention; there was a variety of fossils. Sea creatures, land creatures, impression fossils, trace fossils, and replacement fossils.
The museum was very large as you both explored the building, it was a very clean place with bright white lighting on the high ceilings. Jonathan held your hand tightly as you weaved through people, it was almost like he was afraid to lose you. 
He led you to the museum café, pulling a wooden chair for you at a lonesome round table. He took off his gray backpack, zipped it open, and took out two brown bags. He smiled warmly at you. “I thought that maybe you’d like to have something homemade… I-I made your favorite food, the café menu looked quite expensive… I hope you don’t mind.” He stammered as he blushed, he knew that you both were on a college budget. But he recognized his cooking skills, which his mom taught him since he was a kid; and he used it to his advantage– in truth, it was a passion, a nice coping for the stress of college, he enjoyed his dishes greatly and this was the first time he got to share.
You looked surprised “Oh! You didn’t have to do that Johnathan… Thank Your cheeks turned red as you looked in the bag, gently grabbing the food from within.
His eyes watched you take the first bite and your eyes widened. It tasted amazing, like a comforting meal made with delight. You could feel a rush of serotonin through your mind. 
You swallowed and smiled, “I haven’t had a homemade meal in a long time, this tastes much better than what I’m used to.” You smiled and enjoyed the lingering flavor on your tastebuds. Then you realized he was staring at you, he had a look of fondness on his face. But… there was something off about it, you just brushed it off and paid no mind to it. 
The two of you ate your food together while speaking of your passions and memories, you learned a bit about him in that time. You learned that he had a very small friend group due to his social awkwardness, he barely even spent time with his friends so he didn’t mind. 
You finished your lunches, you disposed of his trash for him. The both of you chatted as you exited the building, he radiated with elation as he spoke about his scientific passions on your way back to campus- It was simply adorable.
Now you wished you didn't fall for his intelligence.
Stepping foot into his familiar dorm, you sat on his bed and relaxed. He followed and placed himself next to you, turning on the TV in front of the bed. He grabbed your waist gently and kissed your hair.
He avoided eye contact "wou-would you like to cuddle with me?" the hand on your side rubbed you soothingly.
"I wouldn't mind~" you said back, kissing his cheek to reassure him you wanted his affection. He laid down and held your body against his, he rubbed your hair before returning his attention to the television. 
It quickly became late. You could barely move from his body intertwining with yours; he was very clingy. But maybe that's because he's still new to relationships. 
He kissed your neck as both his hands were on your stomach, he took off his glasses and for the first time, you saw how sunken his eyes were. They had dark purple circles underneath as well, like he hadn't slept in days.
He dipped his head lower so his head was snuggled against your nape. He sighed and smiled. "Pleeeeease stay the night, I'd love to cuddle with you longer…" 
You paused, leaving him tense before nodding. You felt his legs wrap around yours even more as he pulled you closer in. Peppering your neck and shoulders with kisses as a reward for your compliance.
His body felt so… warm, it was hard not to fall into a cozy sleep. And his rhythmic breathing felt so soothing, you quickly fell into his trance.
He didn't even need his medication that night, for once he was okay with being awake. Feeling you unconsciously nuzzle into him; for once he felt loved.
He wasn't going to let that feeling go.
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Johnathan tilted his head, looming over you almost threateningly. "What's so special about him that makes you love him more than me…?" 
You felt so small under his gaze. He looked hurt but angry at the same time. "I told you before, he's just a friend, please let me have friends…" 
You felt pathetic begging him, but this was becoming a problem. He wouldn't let you live in peace, anytime you talked to anybody be it a boy or girl he felt threatened. And he made that known to you.
Your circle was slowly becoming smaller and smaller thanks to Johnathan constantly guilt-tripping you (and some other measures he took.)
Johnathan gripped your arm, it was tight, pleading but not tight enough to hurt.
"I'm sorry honey, I-I just want you to be safe. What if they take you from me? I don't know what I would do if I couldn't have you." 
He wiped away the tears you didn't realize fell, stroking your cheek as his gaze softened. "I feel more comfortable when you're with me, this is for your safety. You'll see." 
He kissed your temple, his grip unwavering. 
"I know you feel lonely, but you have me, you'll always have me. Isn't th- that enough? I don't need friends, but I need you."
You didn't know what to say, your mind was still spinning a cohesive response. It was hard not to panic, Johnathan was bigger than you, he may not be strong but he was definitely smarter than you. He made it clear that if you tried to leave, he'd find a way to bring you back.
He rubbed your cheek again. "Even if you're not used to having nobody, I'll make it okay, I'm doing this for us." 
It seemed like he was trying to soothe his paranoia as equally as he tried to soothe your suffering. He pulled you in a hug as you choked back sobs, remembering the distant memories of your friends. His hands crept through your hair as his breathing became more labored like he was trying to keep an anxiety attack from happening.
"You're all mine now, can you tell me you're mine?"
He spoke so gently, like he was trying to comfort you still by asking you to give into his insanity.
You looked at him, you saw through his glass lenses a look of genuine love and obsession, he genuinely thought this was what was best for you…
He was shoved away, his look twisting into one of surprise and confusion. "Johnathan, I can't do this, you can't just take my social life away from me! You need mental help…"
His posture faltered for a moment before shifting. He gave you a melancholy look, a tear dropping from his eye. He took a deep breath and sighed.
"I don't need mental help, I just need you. Please, you're the only one who ever cared for me. Don't you love me? There are horrible people out there. I'd know, I've experienced it. Is it so bad I don't want you to risk that?" 
You felt a pang of guilt, his intentions were good but he was showing it in all the wrong ways.
"I love you Johnathan but maybe we should have a break…" 
Maybe this would help him collect himself, and have him have enough time to reflect on why this was all wrong.
His face went pale and his calming smile twitched into a look of nervousness, his chest heaved even greater.
"No, no no NO! Breaks lead to breakups. I can make you happy, I can keep you safe! I'd do anything you ask-"
"Then let's have a break." 
You tried to stand straight and look stern even if your nerves showed through, he seemed to be heaving now. Like he couldn't breathe. 
He grabbed something you couldn't see off the kitchen table and stepped towards you and kicked the back of your legs, your body making an impact with the floorboards. Your head hurt, but he instantly saw his chance and straddled you. 
"I-I've been keeping you safe, what else could you want? I spent so much time protecting you, providing for you, loving you. And I'm not letting you go, I'm not letting you leave because you're too irrational to realize this is my way of love."
You couldn't move your arms, you struggled to try to free yourself. This only seemed to make him more upset as he shifted to keep you in place.
"I don't want to do this, but I'm not afraid to." 
He spoke in a tone you never heard before, he was calmly threatening you now. Taking a knife and showing you it's glint. It had… blood on it?
"I had to hurt people to make you mine, I admit it. And if you don't want anybody else getting hurt then you'll stay, right?" 
His chest was still heaving but he returned back to his calm, almost smug expression.
You nodded, you didn't know what he could mean by 'hurt' but you didn't want to risk him killing somebody out of lovesick insanity.
"I'll stay, I'll stay, I'll stay just… stop it stop it… stop" you repeat yourself, squirming absentmindedly. His smile returned again. 
"That's more like it, I wish I didn't have to show you this side of me. But if it keeps you with me I reckon it's only necessary for us. The sooner you accept my kind of love, the better."
He smiled a sickeningly sweet smile, watching your face look at him with fear. As he let your wrist go.
"Don't be afraid my love, everything will be okay." 
His grin only widened at your vulnerable position.
"You're all mine now~" 
He put the knife on the ground and chuckled with a layer of insanity present. He rubbed your arms affectionately.
At least nobody would be harmed now...
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olderthannetfic · 3 months
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I think the biggest benefit of fancy art school courses is the required critique element where you and your peers basically sit together and rip each others works to shreds (within reason, a good art school will teach you how to give proper critique as much as to receive it) because Holy shit. I used to be terrified of anyone seeing my work because what if they didn’t like it? What if I poured my soul into something and everyone thought it was trash? But going through that on a weekly basis, including for collaborative projects where I was being roasted over whether or not I had accurately and properly understood my peers requests of me was… life-changing, in a good way. I got thicker skin. I learned how to filter criticism to the stuff I could actually work on from it. I learned how to approach telling someone else their work might suck in a way where they could actually listen.
Art school isn’t the be all end all if you want to be an artist, but there’s something to be said for an environment where you and a bunch of other hobbyist 20 somethings who want to go pro someday and are all forced to be sorta mean to each other for ten minutes a week and forced to learn how to Deal With That in a way that just makes you wanna create even MORE artwork afterwards. Met some lovely professors there too who were very encouraging after the first critique “I’m never drawing again” breakdown responses half the students had.
--
If only they were all run well!
I think one thing brutal critique can also teach you is that good critique is an art form, and your classmates are often petty idiots expressing their personal feelings about you or the bad day they're having more than anything useful about your actual work. (A good professor will nip this nonsense in the bud, of course, but they don't always.)
The more important part is getting you out of the "But if I could just explaaaaain" mindset and into the "The audience doesn't care about my excuses" one, but recognizing that a lot of critique is just junk is valuable too.
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