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1ore · 2 years

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this might or might not be a helpful realization for other people, but i have learned through much self-flagellation and general despair that it is 1000% better for me to learn about current events IRL, through other likeminded people, than online. I have the privilege of interacting with others mostly in an academic setting, which is what makes this feasible, but I really think this is one reason why my mental health is better than what it used to be. And also why I am doing more meaningful work / feeling like im doing more meaningful work.

#existing in a more and more algorithmic world #i really really really am trying to rethink how i talk about issues i care about #because we're all being ground into dust and generating engagement on despair and righteous anger just feeds right back into that #and it has been difficult to unlearn as an online person that not engaging with an issue online doesnt mean i dont care about it #and that creating a space that is kind of insular and isolated from the 'outside world' is not like. cowardly #anyway i think we need to consciously learn how to challenge these kinds of mechanical/algorithmical structures #so that we can do right by each other in spite of the digital hellscapes desire for money

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srndpt2024 · 4 months

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" We must be willing to encounter darkness and despair when they come up and face them, over and over again if need be, without running away or numbing ourselves in the thousands of ways we conjure up to avoid the unavoidable". Jon Kabat-Zinn

#Jon Kabat-Zinn #gabor mate #dr gabor matè #compassion #gateway #courage #pain #darkness #despair #truth #unlearning

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luulapants · 1 year

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Existential despair is so common in a person's twenties, I think, because up until that point, we've had a pretty clear road map for what's expected of us and we haven't had much reason to question that map. There are still a few milestones outlined for us (start a career, get married, make babies) but more and more young people are entering the post-school world and realizing:

A) that career thing just isn't happening like they said it would

B) I'm not ready to get married/I don't want to get married/marriage isn't the sort of life-altering event that it used to be

C) I'm not ready to make babies/I don't want a baby/I can't afford to raise children right now (see point A)

And in the absence of these milestones to shoot for (which one could argue weren't the promise of fulfillment they claimed to be in the first place), what we're left with is this aimless abyss of "the rest of our lives" sprawling out ahead of us with no indication of how it will go or what we should be doing to shape it. Young people start their first jobs, find they hate them, and think to themselves, "Is this it? Am I just supposed to do this job until I'm too old to do it or die first?"

Which is, yeah, really fucking depressing!! So here's my best attempt at an alternate roadmap for young people that don't vibe with the old model. Please feel free to add in your own suggestions!

Learn how you work and what you want out of a job. Unless you've been in a job-specific training program that gives you hands-on experience, your first jobs should be experiments. Learn how a full-time job feels for you, what elements are more or less difficult. Different workplaces have different cultures and expectations - what do you need out of a job environment? Do you need to find fulfillment in your job or is it enough for it to pay the bills and leave you time to find outside fulfillment? Do you want to climb a corporate ladder or are you content to hunker down as long as your bills get paid? This period of experimentation is exhausting and may feel like it's consuming your whole life.

Learn how to make time for things outside of work. Adapting to a full-time work environment often leaves you feeling so drained that you can't do anything but go home and collapse on the couch every day. That's fine - for a little while. But it can also become a habit. You need to learn how to do things after work or you'll go crazy. Go to a trivia night. Start an exercise schedule. Take a class in your community. Find volunteer work. Join a band. You will find that putting more things into your day makes you feel like you have more time, not less.

Find a community. Making friends as an adult can feel impossible. Where do you find these mysterious friends everyone seems to have?? This goes along with #2, though. As you start regularly attending the same activities, you will find that repeat interactions with the same people turn into friendships or at least friendly acquaintances. Say yes to invitations. Get involved in your local community. Strive to be connected enough to bump into people at the grocery store.

Unlearn bad lessons. We all internalize some messed up things when we're growing up. As you start off your adult life, that's the time to actively work at unpacking the things you've brought with you from childhood and deciding which things are helping you and which things are harming you. This might mean therapy or joining a spiritual group or reading new things or just making special time to be in your own head.

Learn the lessons you missed. In this, I mostly mean practical things. "Adulting." Areas of your day-to-day practical life that are causing you extreme stress are probably related to a knowledge or experience gap. Do you hate cooking and cleaning or were you not taught how to do it properly? Are you afraid of making medical appointments or is it just something new you're not used to? Does money make you queasy or do you need to learn how to make a budget?

Find something fulfilling. This can be your job. It can be volunteer work. It can be faith. It can be a hobby. It can be creating things. It can be challenging yourself physically. It can be activism. It can be going for walks in nature. Everyone finds fulfillment in different places. If you're not finding it where you are, look somewhere else.

#adulting #advice

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alicenpai · 11 months

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"Lament! Terror! Despair! I shall kindly teach them all to you! And in your final moment, I... shall kill you by my own hand!!"

pandora hearts print for anime north this weekend 🥀🖤🤍

I also put this up on my inprnt! there's a sitewide sale for 40% off right now 🌟

For this drawing, I really wanted to emphasize the gothic and chaotic, convoluted nature of the series. Pandora Hearts has become a lot of things to me, as someone who's read it since I was like, 14 years old. but I eventually found the perfect words to sum up the series - a cross between a Shakespearean tragedy and a Grimm fairy tale.

The ink brush + watercolour brushes I used turned out so well together!! I wanted the style to be kind of a nod to like the manga cover art you'd see from the late 90s to 2000s, kind of like Mochizuki's early approach to traditional art.

A lighter approach to both the lineart + coloring also helped me not strain my arm too much - besides work, I stopped doing full illustrations due to the amount of work being heavy on my arm/shoulder T__T. my last full illustrations were the TGAA/DGS zine + WHA zine pieces back in Dec-Jan, but my heart really lies in illustrations more than anything and I definitely want to get back into it!! (as long as my physical health allows it!!)

anyways, above is the thumbnail/inspiration board for this drawing! I also did some quick chickenscratch studies of others' drawings to help me get a sense of their composition. I started on the top left and then made a sort of meandering curve through... definitely went through a lot of ideas for this one. If I explained the intended symbolism.. I would be here.. all day..............

the candles were definitely first inspired by an animation of a lighter I did during art skool... and then I did this AA Dahlia animated illust... and then this OC charm (below) I did in 2022...? maybe I should draw fire more often. it's like, the way that fire looks in animated keyframes that I really like drawing out, and I guess I kinda really enjoyed translating that into a non moving visual medium??

This drawing simultaneously took SO long but I also sped through it?? I had to like... not dwell too long on certain parts... like for example I think some individual character compositions really could be a lot stronger... because I knew this would be a beast of a drawing, I didn't want to spend an unnecessary amount of time focusing on details when I should be looking at the big picture. and I know that's a bad habit of mine!! I'm trying to unlearn my perfectionism!!

thanks for reading if you got this far, hope ya enjoy it!! and I hope I'll keep drawing Pandora Hearts in the future (clearly I haven't stopped since high school omg) and I hope to draw some more Vanitas someday beyond just chibis!

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sporesgalaxy · 5 months

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Good morning Syd! I hope ur having a good day :^) Can you tell me your favourite part of One Piece or some fun facts abt your funny bug?

HIHI VAL I hope youre having a good day too!!!!! ^_^

My FAVORITE part of One Piece is its optimism!!!!

The world of One Piece is full of atrocity and treachery and inequality, we witness abuses of power again and again, but...again and again we are shown that those things can change. Those things can be fought against, and goodness and happiness still find their way into the world through people that love each other. However horrific an act of abuse is, however entrenched the power structure facilitating the abuse, the situation was forged by the deeds of People, and the deeds of People can therefore undo it.

Despair is seldom earnestly indulged in, not because awful truths of the world ever go ignored, but because One Piece strongly emphasizes that daring to hope and fight and LOVE, terrifying and perilous as it may be in a harsh world, is always worth it. Always has a meaningful impact. And it is the only way to change the world for the better.

It means a whole heck of a lot to me, because that kind of optimism doesn't come naturally to me. I fight it now, but I spent way too many years being proud of my ability to grin and bear it, to keep my mouth shut when things bothered me, etc. And I spent way too many of my younger years genuinely feeling like I was more trouble to love than the love I could give was worth. Those are both shitty ways to live that take a long time to unlearn.

I've made a lot of progress, especially in the last few years, but it's still deeply refreshing to see the optimism I'm fighting to achieve laid out with such clarity and purpose. It really feels like a breath of fresh air.

I fucking love yuo Monkey D. Luffy...........

#asks #1pc #I WAS THINKING MAYBE ID THINK OF A FACT FOR THE BUG TOO BUT. THIS GOT LONG TEEHEE #1pc discussion

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meowzfordayz · 1 year

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play pretend? (i’d rather love you as you are)

Iguro Obanai x Reader

Word Count: ~600

CW: traumatic references

Emergency Request Fulfilled: Can you do obanai with a reader who is usually happy and jelly Nelly and all that and they’ve never talked to obanai about any of their problems and something stressful happens or they get overwhelmed and they get pushed a little too far and they break down. One minute they’re calm and composed and the next they’re a sobbing emotional mess- they express how much they loathe themselves and how much they wanna claw their skin off and just silly stuff like that. I just want yk, obanai being there for them and letting them know it’s okay to cry and it’s okay to not always put up a front.

Training with Obanai usually provides wonderful respite from the arduous, painful cycle of missions, recuperation, and death, but today-

“Again,” he demands, eyes glinting mischievously as he smacks your abdomen with his staff, “Focus.”

Today, he’s being particularly thorough, sparring as though you’re a metal doll rather than a being of flesh and bones.

“If you don’t want another bruise,” he grins, bandages crinkling with the expression, “Then you should at least attempt to dodge or block me.”

You nod shortly, hoping your quietness comes off as deepening your focus — not losing your threadbare calm.

Five seconds later, and he’s sweeping your legs out from under you, unimpressed eyebrow raised as you tumble to the ground.

“Again,” clicking his tongue, “I know I’m good,” smirking teasingly, “But I didn’t think you sucked.”

Ten seconds later, and you’re crumpling once more, palms smarting as you barely catch yourself, his staff resting lightly on your collarbone.

“Again,” still playful, still unaware, “You don’t have to go easy on me.”

He moves to attack, and you simply close your eyes, awaiting his strike.

Finally, he senses the heaviness in your mood, agility allowing him to stepside your body mid thrust, eyes narrowing at your hunched shoulders.

“Are you hungry?” he asks, maintaining a light tone, “You could’ve just told me,” remarking wryly, “I wouldn’t have beaten you up so badly.”

Obanai you wish you could say I’m sorry.

Instead, a choked cry forces itself from your lungs, your staff tight in your grip as you hug it to your chest, cheeks hot and wet as you turn away from him.

“Where are you hurt?”

He’s beside you immediately, his staff tossed aside, hands frantic and delicate as he checks your head, torso, and limbs, internally berating himself for sparring too enthusiastically. Of course they wouldn’t tell me as he cups your face They’re so strong, silently pleading for you to open your eyes — for you to forgive him.

“I think I hate myself,” you whisper, barely audible as you shudder through erratic sobs, “This skin, these eyes, the audacity I have to walk every day,” eyes opening to fix a blank, exhausted stare on Obanai’s concerned, adoring gaze, “I’m so tired of being okay,” laughing loudly, tears dripping steadily now, “I’m so not okay.”

He takes a moment to compose himself, restraining the urge to vehemently counter all of your despair. I love you he thinks desperately, unsure of how exactly to convey his devotion to you, nor his bewilderment at your confession. How can you hate something so beautiful? He does know, however, that such a truth for him may not yet be understood by you. Firsthand experience taught him that, his own self loathing an endless process of unlearning, gentleness, setbacks, and patience — spurred on and nurtured by you.

“I’m here,” he promises, arms wrapping around you, “Sometimes everything sucks, and I’ll always be here.”

“Why?” you hiccup, “I’m weak. I can’t even handle pretending to be strong.”

“And you don’t have to,” he chuckles, heart aching for you, “You are strong,” whispering softly, “But you don’t have to pretend to be okay.”

“Until I stop pretending, and everyone freaks because I do have to pretend.”

“I’m not freaking.”

You pause, cracking a faint smile, eyes rolling, “You don’t count.”

“I don’t?” he hums, kissing your cheek.

“You love me.”

“I’m not the only one. You are more loved than you could ever know.”

“Aaand how do you know that?” you quip.

“You told me so,” he murmurs, “And I like believing in you.”

#iguro obanai #obanai iguro #obanai x reader #iguro x reader #snake hashira #drabble #kimetsu no yaiba #demon slayer

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whitedarkmoonflower · 7 months

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Prisoner

Part 4

Part 1,* Part 2, Part 3, Part 4*

Authors note: I wrote the first part of this when I was feeling really down and the rest when I finally got the good news that my health issues have resolved and I don't have to fear anything. I wanted to rewrite everything, but then I thought it's a part of me, a part of my inner turmoil and I left it as it was.

Summary: Sihtric promised to find the cunning thief that saved his life in Bebbanburg, and kept that promise. What he didn't expect was to find her broken. Will his overwhelming love for her, allow him to heal all the wounds?

Pairing: Sihtric x reader (female)

Warnings: imprisonment, implied rape in the past, SMUT 18+

Word Count: 5,2 K

Tags: @sihtricfedaraaahvicius @hb8301 @zillahvathek

If you want to be added to the tag list - write to me.

The thick and heavy air made your lungs burn in slow agony with each shallow breath you took. The disgusting smell of filth and rot that hit your nose with the force of a hurricane and made you almost choke on your own breath when you first entered the dungeon didn’t bother you anymore. You had long got used to it, as well as you had got used to the putrid broth and murky water brought to you and the other prisoners by the nuns. The very first time you had refused it, smashing the dirty bowls on the floor with an impudent laugh on your face.

You had been so sure not to stay here for long, so confident in the imminent rescue and so appalled, when the time passed and it didn’t come. You had long lost count of the time, as there was nothing in the dungeon that would hint the movement of the sun, the dim torch light being the only illumination.

You had spun back the last events before your capture hundreds and thousands of times, remembering the tiniest details of your last encounter with Constantin – your lord and protector, whom you had served all those years. There were no more doubts as to the reasons why you had landed in this filthy place. You were betrayed and used as a conciliation gift.

The constant moans and cries, echoing through the walls and corridors, the rustle of rats, hopelessly searching for some remnants of food, and the chirp of the burning torches would have probably driven you mad if not for the burning anger, flaring-up in your chest and filling your veins with fiery determination to take revenge.

But as the time passed even this apocryphal source of energy started to lose its power, leaving room first to despair and then to indifference. Indifference to everything.

The last sensation you remembered was the overwhelming, maddening hunger, your stomach clenching in spasms as you wiggled on the floor, arms wrapped around your waist; your mind was blurred and head spun as rough, bruising hands tore you from your dark oblivion and pulled you up to your feet. Your legs refused to obey and you were literally dragged out of the cell and through the empty, echoing corridors to the stairway and further up into the light, hitting you like a thunderbolt, your eyes unlearned to deal with it.

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

Sihtric turned to face the approaching guards dragging a dirty, gaunt, barefooted figure with bound hands, clad in filthy rags that carried a far resemblance to something that must have been a tunic some long time ago.

Even if Sihtric’s memories held a completely different picture of the beautiful widow, turned out to be a cunning spy and thief, but more importantly the unexpected saviour of his life in the fortress of Bebbanburg, he instantly recognised you.

“Is it her? Are you sure?” Uhtred’s voice, like a distant echo, intruded in Sihtric’s bewildered consciousness.

“Yes, it’s her,” Sihtric nodded, trying to preserve a nonchalant expression, only his eyes betraying the real emotions brewing inside him, filling with anxiousness and darkening with growing anger, his gaze fixed on the bony creature, that yelped in pain as it was thrown to the ground before him.

“We have the direct order from the king to bring her before the Bishop’s court in Lundene,” Uhtred addressed the stern-faced man, sitting on a draped chair not far away from a table loaded with paper rolls, almost hiding the young scribe placed behind.

“You can have her,” the man shrugged with shoulders, his face emotionless. “One mouth less to feed, although I don’t think she would have lasted long anyway,” he nodded to the scribe, who hastily scribbled something on the paper roll, and rose from the chair. “Some guards might miss her company though,” he added with a dirty smirk on his lips.

Uhtred’s brows furrowed, repulse evident on his face, as he casted a worried glance to Sihtric, whose face had turned ashen, his eyes clouded with confusion and a burgeoning fury, abruptly turning into cold, hard stones as he watched the guards by your side, muscles in his jaw tightening, lips pressing into a thin line. Sensing the tightening of his friend’s muscles, preparing for a leap, as his hand slid down to the shaft of his axe, Uhtred placed a deterring hand on Sihtric’s shoulders, squeezing it warningly and turned back to the man. “Are you ready? We want to leave as soon as possible to reach Lundene within the next few days.”

Your eyes, slowly adjusting to the daylight, hidden behind loose strands of your dirty, tousled hair, cautiously scanned the hall and the men around you. What was happening here? Who were they? There was something undeniably familiar in the voice of one of them, something that stirred memories you had tried to entomb in the deepest corner of your mind. You carefully raised your gaze, instantly lovering it again, unable to believe what you had seen.

“I will find you regardless,” the familiar voice echoed in your mind, bringing back the bittersweet memories of the last time you saw Sihtric, as he turned and passed through the small sea gate of Bebbanburg castle, disappearing into the shadows behind it.

You had never expected this to happen, for him to really look for you and even less to find you, but there he was, his gaze locked on you, full of worry and compassion, the look you remembered so well, being the first and only man ever to look at you in such a way. Men looked at you with lust and longing, with fury and anger, pleading and threatening, sometimes demanding, but only Sihtric’s gaze had held this fleeting, indescribable hint of affection, sympathy and … yes, love.

You pulled your bare feet beneath you, while your hands instinctively tugged at your rags, trying to cover your thighs. Boring a hole in the floor beneath you with your gaze, cheeks blushing in embarrassment, unnoticeably under the layer of dirt, covering your face, you silently wished death had finally claimed you last night, when the spasms were shaking your body. You didn’t want him to see you like this.

Next moment you felt two strong, rough hands pulling you to your feet by the ropes binding your hands, grabbing you at your waist, pushing you up and throwing over one's shoulder. You gasped from the pain of your stomach hitting against the bones of the broad shoulder, breath hitching as you were carried out of the hall and in the same unceremonious way thrown over the saddle, the man mounting behind you.

“Sihtric, we are leaving,” a commanding voice shouted above your head, spurring the horse to movement, as you saw Sihtric rushing out of the hall, mounting the other horse and pressing his heels into its sides.

The ride was not long, as soon as the silhouette of the city faded in the background, the rider turned off the road into the woods and halted. Carefully and gently as if you were about to break he lifted you from the horse and lowered onto the smooth moss on the ground. You heard the other rider approaching and jumping to the ground. You let your eyes closed, you thought it a dream and opening your eyes could mean it’ll be gone. The ropes binding your hands were cut and you let them freely fall down on both sides of your body.

“How is she? Did you really have to be so rough with her?” you could hear a hint of rebuke in Sihtric’s voice.

“We had to play it to the end. Did anybody follow us?” the other man spoke.

“No, no scouts, no pursuers. I checked thoroughly,” you heard Sihtric approaching

“Good, then we have successfully stolen your thief. But we shouldn't waste time. The road back to Coccham is still far enough,” the man rose, making space for Sihtric to kneel beside you.

“Hey, pretty widow. I told you I’ll find you, didn’t I? You are safe now. I’m taking you to Lord Uhtred’s estate,” rough fingers stroked your cheeks, pushing aside the strains of your disheveled hair and you finally braved to open your eyes to look at the man kneeling beside you. It was really him, it was Sihtric; his worried glance lightening with a shy smile.

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

The smell of something mouthwatering delicious tickled your nose as you slowly opened your eyelids and scanned the surroundings, letting your body register the softness of the mattress you were lying onto, the long forgotten, almost unnatural feeling of your head resting on a pillow, and the gentle touch of the blanket covering your body.

“Good morning!” a soft whisper greeted you, sending a shiver down your spine, prompting you to sit up and turn to meet the familiar gaze of two mismatched eyes.

Sihtric watched you, settled in the chair by the window, his face bathed in the warm, golden rays of a rising sun, casting strange shadows over his handsome features. Your gazes locked and a long-drawn moment of silence spread between you, not an odd or eerie one – a warm and soothing silence not requiring any words, letting your eyes speak for themselves.

You felt words forming in your mind, but they didn’t reach the lips, stiffened by the strange sensation of warm liquid dampening your cheeks and blurring your vision. In surprise you touched your face and marvelled at your wet fingers, the mattress caving in from additional weight settling beside you, two strong arms wrapping around your shoulders and pulling you close in a tight embrace, intended to offer you solace and comfort.

Instead, feeling two big rough palms on your bare skin, you jolted as if bitten by a poisonous snake and instinctively crawled back, crouching in the head of the bed, your eyes flaring with repulse, disgust and anger.

Sihtric instantly froze, lifting his hands as if in surrender and hastily removing himself from the bed.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t …” he mumbled, unsure of what to say or what to do, but not letting his gaze off you, as you continued to look back at him. It was the same beautiful eyes he remembered, just dim and empty, surrounded by black circles, the mischievous spark stolen from them and replaced with the dark abyss of despair.

Sihtric continued to stare at you, taking in your sunken cheeks, bulging collarbones and thin arms, wrapped around your legs until a realisation struck him and he stormed out of the room, returning a few moments later with a steaming bowl in his hands, spreading the familiar scent that had risen you from your sleep just minutes before. You almost tore the bowl from his hands, the hot liquid burning your mouth and tongue as you gulped it down greedily, almost without chewing on the pieces of meat and vegetables in it.

“I have asked to prepare a bath for you, if you wish” Sihtric offered, watching you devour your meal.

You looked down at your dirty arms and legs, your hands nervously tugging at the dirty laces that somehow still held the rags around your shoulders, and a blush covered your cheeks as you hastily nodded your agreement to Sihtric.

—----------------------------------

Back in the room again, you grappled with the dress that was left there for you. You'd always loathed dresses, with their confining laces and superfluous layers that hindered movement. But this particular dress seemed designed to vex you. Its laces were at the back, making it impossible to secure without assistance.

The door behind you creaked, causing you to startle. Sihtric entered just as you were in the midst of your predicament. As you turned, you caught him averting his eyes, and he made to exit swiftly.

"Wait, please, could you help me?" It was actually the first time you'd spoken since he had rescued you and hearing your voice Sihtric's face lightened up with a sincere smile.

“I can help you, if you'd allow," Sihtric responded gently, his voice betraying a hint of nervousness.

You turned your back to Sihtric and collected up your damp hair, a simple invitation for Sihtric to help you with the laces. He approached with caution, the recent memory of your startled reaction just before to his well intended touch still fresh in his mind. He was gentle, taking utmost care not to let his fingers brush against your skin more than necessary, his uneven breath tickling your neck.

The air around you seemed to pulsate with tension. You craved his touch, his firm embrace, telling you that everything will be alright, that you are safe, and you dreaded it simultaneously. Once he was done, you felt him retreat and only then did you turn to face him.

“Can you… can you just hold me?” you pleaded, placing your palms on his broad chest, making a step closer to him. Sihtric’s eyes filled with a silent question searched yours.

“Are you sure?” he asked and, encouraged by your nod, carefully wrapped his arms around your shoulders, pulling you in a gentle embrace. You shivered from the sensation of his body pressed against yours, from the gentleness of the touch of his hands, rubbing your back, letting the warmth of Sihtric’s embrace seep into your very bones. Sihtric’s fingers gently brushed your hair, his touch as light as a feather. Enchanted by the serenity of the moment you finally braved to lean into his embrace, allowing your tears flow freely, releasing your pain, letting it find an outlet with the force a damned river seeks its way to the sea.

"Husch," he murmured into your hair, rocking you gently, "I’ve finally found you. I’m here with you, and I’m never letting you go again."

You buried your nose into the crook of Sihtric’s neck, breathing in his scent. After all this time you still remembered it, although it seemed like memories from another life. You remembered his strong arms wrapped around your waist, his infectious laugh, the genuine care in his eyes, his sweet kisses alternating between sweet and gentle, rough and passionate, leaving you yearning for more, his confident touch on your skin and … you shrugged … disgust and shame washing over you as you remembered other rugged hands pinning your wrists with rough force to the cold stone floor of the dungeon …

The movement with which you pushed Sihtric back was instinctive, but so fierce that he staggered and almost fell, bewilderment and pain plainly written on his face.

“I’m sorry…” you stammered, “Gods, Sihtric! I’m so sorry. I can’t…,” you hid your eyes with your palms and stormed out of the doors.

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

The fresh evening wind seemed to mock Sihtric, carrying sounds of people chattering, silent footsteps and other noises from the houses surrounding the inn they had been staying in, but not a sound from you. Every corner he turned, every small pathway he glanced down, he hoped he'd find you. But as the minutes turned into hours, despair began to grip him. You had seemingly vanished.

As the completely clear summer sky turned dawn blue, Sihtric was finally ascending the steps to his room. There seemed to be no point to continue looking for you, he had profoundly searched all the possible places within this small town they had chosen for a halt. Just found, he had lost you again and the feeling of complete failure gnawed at him. He pushed the door and entered the dark, unlit room, just to discover your silhouette shrunken in the chair by the window, your knees up, held by your thin, bony arms, your head resting on them.

You didn’t move as he entered the room, your eyes wandering somewhere out of the window, but it was not possible that you hadn't heard him. Sihtric approached carefully as if closing in to a shy prey, afraid to startle it and to prompt another swift escape. With a gentle grace, Sihtric knelt beside the chair, the desire to touch you, to wrap his arm around your waist and pull you closer pulsing through every cell of his body, but he managed to restrain himself, remembering the reaction his touch had caused.

“I love you, my pretty thief,” he whispered, his eyes scanning your features, waiting for a reaction. “I don’t expect or want anything from you. I just want to be near you, to care for you and to protect you,” he continued as there was no response from your side.

“I’ll not pretend that I could ever understand or feel what you have gone through these past months. It would be a shameless lie. I can’t. But that doesn’t make me less willing to share your pain,” Sihtric shifted, slowly sinking completely to the ground in front of you and seating himself with his back leaned against the wall.

“I’m not the same person you met on your way to Bebbanburg anymore,” your words came slowly, your eyes wandering down to find him, “I was a fool, an arrogant, presumptuous fool, thinking my loyalty to Constantin was worth more than your love. I’m broken beyond repair, Sihtric. Broken and tarnished. I don’t deserve your love.”

Sihtric pulled his knees to his chest and wrapped his arms around them. “Believe me one thing - I know what pain and humiliation means. In a different way perhaps, but it haunts me my whole life. I don’t think any less of you now than I thought of you then. Just the opposite. I admire your strength and resilience even more than before. And if only you’d let me, I’ll do everything to make sure you never have to endure the pain again.”

You both remained like that for a long while - you crouched in the chair by the window and Sihtric on the floor by your feet. The rising sun filled the room with a golden light, shimmering and playing on your skin; none of you moved immersed in your own thoughts and fears until the firm knock on the door and Uhtred’s voice brought you back to reality. You had to travel further, as Uhtred feared that his deception being on king's orders might be discovered, leading to a pursuit he wanted to evade.

After a full day of exhaustive riding, sitting in front of Sihtric on his horse, you finally reached another small town and settled in for the night. You were not sure what had exhausted you more - the ride or the closeness of Sihtric’s body pressed against yours, his hands wrapped around your waist, holding you tightly on the horseback.

Luckily the room you got had two beds, so you didn’t have to worry about Sihtric sleeping in the armchair or on the floor as he wouldn’t agree to you sleeping alone. You both settled in and Sihtric, exhausted by the sleepless night before, slipped quickly under the blanket and closed his eyes, without even taking off his leather armour.

“Hey, don’t be stupid. You can’t sleep in your armour. I’ll go fetch some water, so you can take it off, while I’m gone,” you casted a thankful look at Sihtric before closing the door behind you, understanding he had done it out of his concern for you, not willing you to feel pressed or uncomfortable.

When you returned, you noticed his armour neatly folded on the chair by the table and Sihtric hidden underneath the blanket, eyes closed, although his uneven breath betrayed he was not sleeping.

You turned your back to him, took off your dress and slid under the blanket. You were so tired, that sleep overtook you before your head hit the pillow.

It was still early in the night, judging by the moon, when you shot up in your bed, breath coming in ragged gasps and forehead covered with sweat, taunted by a nightmare. The room was shrouded in darkness, the only illumination coming from the silver beams of the moon filtering through the gap in the curtains.

You quickly cast a hidden glance over at Sihtric, peacefully breathing in his sleep, his chest rhythmically heaving under the blanket.

The moonlight played upon his face, accentuating the sharp lines of his cheekbones and jaw. The light caught in the soft curls of his hair, lending him an ethereal glow. His eyelashes cast long shadows on his cheeks, fluttering slightly in his sleep, his lips slightly parted.

There was an undeniable serenity to his expression. The worries and lines that marred his face during the day were absent, replaced by a calmness and in this moonlit moment, he looked younger and more innocent.

You placed your legs down over the edge of the bed and stood up. You knew there was no way you could fall asleep again, not after the taunting pictures that visited you in your dreams. All your ride, pressed against Sihtric’s chest, his arms steadying you to prevent you from slipping down from the horse, you had been thinking over what he had said to you last night. You had been stupid enough to reject his love once, but he hadn’t given up. He had searched for you, found you and liberated you.

You approached Sihtric’s bed and leaned over, tracing your fingers lightly over his brow, pushing back a stray lock of hair. The touch grounded you, pulling you away from the remnants of your nightmare and bringing you back to the present. His warmth, the gentle rise and fall of his chest, the soft sounds of his sleep, so peaceful and comforting, strangely conveyed a feeling of safety.

You remained for a moment seated on the edge of the bed, just marvelling at the sight of the sleeping man before you, before lifting the blanket and slipping beneath it, wrapping your arm around his waist and laying your head on his chest. You closed your eyes and froze listening to Sihtric’s steady, lullabying heartbeat, the comforting rhythm anchoring you, letting your fingers slowly walk in gentle small steps over his stomach.

Sihtric opened his eyes, turning to you, and stared in bewilderment. You saw the unspoken question in his gaze and smiled in return, nestling yourself closer to him.

“I want to forget,” a whisper departed your lips, “Will you help me?”

Sihtric’s arms instinctively wrapped around your naked body and embraced you with such a force that you almost forgot how to breathe for a moment.

You liberated your hand and let your fingers tangle in his long curly hair for a moment, sliding your index finger over his forehead to his nose and down to his lips, your faces just centimeters apart.

“Please, make me forget!” you pleaded, leaning in and pressing your lips to Sihtrics. The kiss was soft, tentative at first, a mere brush of lips. Sihtric responded to it, hesitantly, barely touching yours, as if afraid of scaring you off again, but as seconds stretched on and you hadn’t pushed him away yet, he braved to allow it to deepen, becoming more passionate and filled with yearning, his large, warm hand cupping your face.

When you finally broke apart, Sihtric looked utterly taken aback, surprise evident in his wide eyes. But that surprise was quickly overshadowed by a different emotion, one that set his gaze aflame. He pulled you closer, his fingers tangling in your hair, and captured your lips once again. This time, there was an urgency, a desperation in his kiss, as if making up for lost time. Your tongues danced against each other, twisting and whirling around one another, lips brushed swollen and red from the intensity of the passionate touch.

You knew they were going to come, the flashing memories of pain mixed with flares of anger, helplessness and shame, the burst of torn pictures your mind couldn’t stop conjuring, piercing through your consciousness like a glowing metal rod, but this time you were ready for them. You melted into Sihtric’s kiss, letting yourself fly, immersing in the soft touch of his hands, caressing your back and your hair, absorbing the tenderness of his movements and storing all this in your mind, wrapping it around you as a protective layer. And when the dark memories came, instead of pushing Sihtric away you clung even harder to him, digging your nails in his bare flesh and pulling him closer.

You pulled apart, gasping for breath, hearts pounding. Sihtric’s fingers gently trailed the contours of your face, his thumb lightly pecking your lips, as he lifted up your chin.

“Are you …” Sihtric wanted to speak, but you interrupted him by placing your finger on his lips.

“Sssch, yes, I’m sure,” you whispered, revelling in the soft and caring look in his eyes.

“You don’t…” Sihtric tried to object, but you silenced him with your lips.

Sihtric’s big, rough hand stroked your back, trailing down to your bottom and up again. Carefully and smoothly he rolled you on your back with the tender pressure of his whole body, supporting him on his elbow. His eyes drunk in the sight of you, your hair strayed over his pillow, eyes half closed, lips parted and smiling.

“You are so beautiful, so breathtakingly beautiful,” Sihtric’s words came with a heavy sight as he leaned in touching your jaw with his lips, fingers trailing over your skin down to your breasts.

“I don’t want to rush you. I can wait for you as long as it takes,” his lips brushed against your ear, breathing in his words.

In response your hand went down to his hips, teasingly trailing over his already fully hard cock, wrapping your fingers around it and stroking it slowly. A heavy moan escaped Sihtric’s parted lips as he buried his nose in the crook of your neck.

“I know,” you finally answered, your hand still wrapped around his length, stroking him, your fingers teasingly caressing the tip, enjoying Sihtric’s breath on your neck getting more ragged with each movement, his hushed moans echoing in your ears. “That’s exactly why I want this… No, I need it… I need to feel that it is my decision and my choice. I want you, Sihtric.”

“I’m all yours, use me,” he breathed in your mouth, capturing your lips with his. You moaned into his kiss, feeling his hand carefully touching your breast, massaging it and slightly squeezing your nipple between his thumb and index finger. His lips found their way down to your other nipple, closing carefully around it, suckling and teasing it with his tongue and teeth.

Sihtric was so gentle, as if you were made of glass. His hands and lips were everywhere, stroking, caressing, fondling, no – worshiping every inch of your body, kissing his way down to your inner thigh. You let yourself dissipate in his hesitant touch, as he pushed your legs apart to grant him better access to your core, his eyes searching yours in a silent plea for a permission, before his tongue swiped through your folds, making you gasp loudly. It was not you surrendering to him, but him begging you to allow to devour you. And you melted under his touch, eager to submit, to please, to beg for him in return.

Your moans were getting louder as you felt yourself falling apart with each lap of Sihtric’s tongue against your perl, moving ever firmer and faster, your hands gripping the bed sheets with full force and aching your back against the mattress. And as you felt yourself falling into oblivion, ecstasy washing over you, your hips frantically bucking against his tongue, the muffled groan of satisfaction rolling over Sihtric’s lips, made you scream his name in pleasure, forgetting everything.

The satisfied grin on Sihtric’s face as he kissed his way back to your lips made you giggle. You couldn’t remember the last time you had laughed, but now you did. Sihtric looked at you amazed, a hint of bewilderment even resentment in his gaze. Were you making fun of him?

“I love you!” you tittered, but then your face grew serious. “I’ve always loved you! Even when I told you to leave without me in Bebbanburg, I did love you. I hope you know that.”

“I hoped you did,” Sihtric smiled at you, sitting back between your legs, “Why else would you risk your life saving me?”

His eyes scanned your body, as if enchanted by the tantalising sight before him. “Will you have me?” he asked, leaning closer to whisper in your ear. You shrugged, sensing fear building up somewhere in the back of your mind. But you knew you could say no, and this knowledge, settling slowly in your mind, along with the genuine care, even worry mixed with sweet longing in Sihtric’s eyes allowed you to overcome all your doubts. You reached out for him, your hands trailing down his muscular chest and stomach, taking hold of his hard cock, dragging the tip of him through your folds and placing it at your entrance.

“It’s my choice and I choose you,” you breathed in anticipation.

Sihtric pushed forward, slowly, hesitantly, his eyes not leaving yours, watching carefully. You gasped, feeling his length stretching and filling you, expecting for more, but instead Sihtric stopped, his gaze scanning you.

“Don’t,” you moaned, your walls clenching. “Don’t stop!” you whined, wrapping your legs around his waist, digging your nails in his hips and pulling him closer.

Sihtric moaned heavily as he finally sheathed fully inside of you, remaining still for a long moment, savouring the feeling of your walls taking him in and clenching around him. Too long. You wanted more.

“Sihtric, I need you! All of you!” you whispered, trying to take the control away from him as you bucked your hips against his.

Sihtric pulled out slowly, before pushing forward again and then again, his movements so slow and gentle, driven by the only desire - to please you, to satisfy you and make you forget everything apart from his unending love for you. He kept watching your face carefully, but seeing your delightful expression, your eyes half lid, your head snapped back and hearing the mewls of pleasure departing your lips, it was harder and harder for him to control himself.

“Gods, you can’t even imagine what you are doing to me,” Sihtric groaned, “I’ve been dreaming of this every night since the very moment I left through that damned Sea gate. I love you, pretty widow… I love you, my cunning thief… I still don’t know your name, but I love you, like I’ve never loved anyone before,” Sihtric breathed heavily in your ear. His lips found your neck, kissing, sucking and bruising your soft skin with his teeth, his breath panting and his moans growing stronger and heavier with each thrust.

You moaned and whined, digging your nails in his back with the full force of your thin arms, savouring each and every snap of his hips, pushing deeper and deeper into you, drawing you closer to the edge. His movements got faster, his breath itchy, driving you mad with each thrust, as you ached for more.

“Don’t … don’t hold back,” you hissed, rocking your hips against his and gasping in pleasure as Sihtric finally let go of his self imposed control and started to fuck you frantically, rutting his hips against yours faster and faster.

And then you were falling, falling into complete oblivion with your heart racing and your eyes darkening, tears rolling down your cheeks. There was nothing else, just you and him, and the overwhelming sensation of happiness, running through your veins. No dark memories, no fear, nothing. Just pure bliss. Your walls were clenching around Sihtric’s cock, your body shaking in the waves of pleasure, his name on your lips like a prayer.

Sihtric continued to fuck you through your orgasm, savouring your pleasure and each and every spasm of your walls around him. And only feeling your body relaxing, the last shivers fading away slowly, he finally allowed himself to follow you, spilling deep inside you with a loud groan.

You were both panting, sweaty and out of breath, as you wrapped your arms around his neck and pulled him close, burying your face into the crook of his neck, the weight of his body making it hard to breathe. But you didn’t want to let go, you wanted to stay like this forever, feeling him inside you and all over you, breathing him in, dizzy from the overpowering feeling of being alive and loved.

Sihtric carefully shifted to the side, pulling out of you with a heavy sigh.

“Are you OK? Wasn’t it too much for you… I didn’t want to be rough…” his arms wrapped around you, pulling you into his embrace, “I love you so much, that it almost hurts. I don’t want to ever let go of you,” he whispered. “Please, tell me that you will never leave me again. Tell me that you are finally mine.“

“I’m yours and I’m staying in this life and beyond. You have no escape from me now,” you smiled and hugged him tightly, nestling against his strong chest and hearing his heartbeat just under your ear.

Part 1,* Part 2, Part 3, Part 4*

#sihtric #sihtric kjartansson #the last kingdom #tlk #sihtric x reader #sihtric x you #sihtric fanfic #sihtric fic #sihtric smut

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iersei · 6 months

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there's a certain sense of tragedy in how the close family only got worse.

at the end of season one, they left with hope. they were so hopeful that maybe, even with the tangled web of emotions and identity that the timeline shift left in its wake, that they could find a way to make this mess of a family work.

glenn explicitly said that he wanted to be in nick's life. he didn't want to be like his dad.

but that's not enough.

because you have to try. and you have to keep trying.

it's so easy to say that you want to try. you can want it all you want. but it requires change. it requires an active effort that you have to stick with.

there's a tragedy to how the outcome of the trial only made them worse.

isn't it funny? isn't it cruel? that the universe pretended that this was supposed to make him better? give him a better life? all it really ended up doing was replacing both of your traumas with different, worse trauma.

what are you even supposed to do? when the universe itself tells you that the only way you can ever do Justice to your son is to send yourself away? lock yourself up to suffer alone and let someone else, someone better, raise him?

what is it like to spend years locked up inside your own head? to have it all reinforced?

the only way that you can help him is if you leave.

what do you do when you leave this prison? what do you do when you never really left?

these patterns don't go away. not when they're baked into your subconscious. and obviously you can try. you can try. you can try. and if you try and if you have a good support system and if you learn and unlearn what you need to, then you can change.

it doesn't change all the hurt that you've caused. you can know that. you've been an awful person. you can know that too. but how do you fix that?

if the only way you know how to fix things is to remove yourself from the equation. to sink deeper into the hell of your own making. fall back into all that you have ever known. even if all that you want is to be better. what do you do when you don't know how you're supposed to change? when no one is there to tell you how to do it differently? to drag you out of the deep depths of despair you have lived in all your life?

what does it mean to change?

you have to try. but you have to know how to. you have to work against the patterns ingrained into your subconscious. you have to know what efforts to make. you have to figure out how to fix this.

there is no fixing this.

it only ever got worse, but they loved each other. they really did love each other.

the love was there. it didn't change anything. but it still matters that the love was there.

i am your judge, jury, and executioner.

#alternate title: the avoidant behaviors do be hitting #hi i'm still thinking about them i'm not sorry #dndads #glenn close #glenn close dndads #nick close #nicky freeman #dndads spoilers

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apollos-olives · 3 months

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if I'm being completely honest i think the one thing I've learnt from Oct 7th is how little i knew about Palestine. Being Muslim, it was a hard pill to swallow because I grew up with constant reminders about Palestine and the struggle for freedom - but it never really occured to me how drastic the situation really was which i guess was the outcome of growing up unoppressed and with first world problems. Anyways, the point I'm trying to make is that I'm truly appreciative of blogs like yours and your mutuals because I have learnt and unlearnt so much. My faith has grown because of the faith shown by Palestinians and I have become so much more aware of life in general. My one wish rn is for all Palestinians to have the right of return and for peace to finally come to their land permanently. Palestinians are truly strong to remain hopeful and even jokey during times of despair.

It sucks to be fully conscious of how terrible and cruel the world actually is but I'm grateful that I'm not living in ignorance anymore. In Sha Allah Palestine will be free and the oppressors will be punished. and In Sha Allah all Palestinians will have their home back

aw thank you so much 🫶🫶 i'm so glad you have learned and unlearned things to become a better ally to palestinians, we appreciate it so much. it's sad how so many people grow up ignorant of what's going on, but that's still no excuse, so alhamdulillah i'm glad i could help you learn what you need to. inshallah palestine will be free within our lifetimes.

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aihoshiino · 7 months

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Was talking about this in passing to my friend Isa (@astrabysm) the other day but the more I engage with Oshi no Ko & the side stories, the more I come away feeling like centering lies and lying as the driving core of Ai's character really misses the forest for the trees.

Lying is, of course, extremely important to Ai as a character but I think it functions more as a thematic umbrella which can be used to unify a lot of the disparate elements that inform her characterization - idol culture, purity culture, commodification and infantalization, etc. The themes of deception/masking/falsehood are important to understanding Ai bit infinitely more important - and imo, more core to her character - is WHY she feels she has to lie and what motivates it; her self hate and fear, her history of abuse and abandonment by people she should otherwise have been able to unconditionally rely on, her despairing loneliness and her absolutely desperate desire to form real, genuine connections and companionship with other human beings.

To paraphrase Isa more directly, because I think they really hit the nail on the head with this: "Ai is someone who tells lies but she's not A Liar". Deception in of itself is not her end goal in any respect; it's a survival tactic that she internalised at a formative age and never had the opportunity to unlearn - and even then, Ai is honest and sincere just as often as she lies.

Really, the biggest "lie" Ai is telling is the one people have demanded she tell: the illusion of an eternally pure and cheerful idol. But being an idol has become so forcibly entangled in Ai's personhood at the expense of allowing her to just be a human that of course she thinks of herself as a liar for being unable to live up to that image.

She wants to, though! Ai herself says it in Viewpoint B that her "Ai of B-Komachi" persona is just an idealised self that she desperately wants to become: a kind, invincible girl who loves other people. And the horrible irony of it is that Ai IS that girl already; she's so kind and warm and desperate to connect with other people; even though she struggles to understand them she fights with all her might to close that gap. When she falls short, it's HERSELF she blames for not being good enough. She has never once expressed any bitterness or anger towards the people who've mistreated her, however much they might deserve it.

The real "lie" of Hoshino Ai are these twin, opposing perceptions of her as a pure and perfect idol and a scheming, manipulative liar. They're both wrong. The unvarnished truth is simply that Ai was a normal girl doing everything she could to achieve normal happiness in the midst of an abnormally cruel and lonely life - and in the very end, she was even punished for that.

#oshi no ko #oshi no posting #ai hoshino #hoshino ai

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capfalcon · 2 years

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dont mind me im just crying about how a fundamental part of superbat is saying "you're worthy of love intrinsically and I'll do it regardless of what you say" and also believing that love is earned and unlearning that

bruce, who fundamentally doesn't like himself, who doesn't trust himself, who assumes/assesses the worst in other people because he cannot see the best in even himself.

clark, who has to save everybody, who feels the weight of everyone on his shoulders, who is beloved because he is useful. clark, who has to be benevolent and good and kind. clark, who can't have a bad day.

and they're both superheroes, yes, but in such reflective ways. batman is a superhero, but he is also an enforcer, a watchman, a guard. his existence is predicated on the fact that gotham needs watching, that it is this land of despair and less than fortunate people. superman, on the other hand, is a savior. he's a protector, not a guard. it's semantics, sure, but i think it matters.

and superbat, as a whole, them loving one another, is based upon bruce understanding that clark, somehow, isn't like him. that clark doesn't see every potential outcome, that clark doesn't look for the worst in people, he looks for the best. and it's also about bruce saying i will love you for that alone. you can't save everyone, and you shouldn't have to. i will love you as clark kent, as superman, in your entirety. i will love you for who you are, in your darkness and at your most beloved. i will let you be whoever you are, and i will love whoever that is.

and clark, looking at bruce and seeing, not only the good, but the bad as well. understanding that, the pain and suffering and anger. clark, understanding that, and likewise, letting bruce be as he is. loving him not in spite of the world he inhabits and the roles he plays, but for the man who feels it necessary. for the one who wants justice, because he didn't get it. for the man who is, at heart, good. Clark, who thinks everyone is fundamentally capable of goodness, looking at bruce and seeing all the goodness he can carry.

both of them loving one another because they can't not.

#literally crying about it!#superbat #clark kent/bruce wayne #batman #superman #jordan talks

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