#nr1

[lover-of-midnight]

Childhood Trauma

Arthur took a small step back; Uther was still screaming. All he wanted was the truth, why was that so much to ask for?

He could see Merlin shaking his head, warning him not to continue. Arthur clenched his hands into his pants as he looked at the floor. Jumping slightly when Uther suddenly placed a hand on his shoulder.

“Your mother loved you, Arthur. She loved you more than life itself.” Uther gave a single and the people rushed from the room. Giving them some space.

Arthur forced himself to look Uther in the eyes. His voice was soft. “I need to know, please father. Did you use magic to have me?” There was a pleading in his voice. His hands were white with force, and he was trying to hold onto the last part of his sanity.

Uther took a deep breath. “Yes, we did. And we knew the price. We were ready to pay it as well. We just didn’t know it would have been your mother.” Uther forced the words out, hoping it would give Arthur some peace.

Instead, Arthur took another step back, tears burning his eyes. “It is my fault she is dead.” It felt even more real than normal. He always heard the whispers in the hallways when he was younger, taking it slightly to heart.

It was his fault. Every bad thing that happened in the past, was his punishment for causing his mother to die.

Uther wanted to say something, but Arthur just turned around, leaving the council room, ignoring his father as he called him back. He knew that he would be punished for this at a later stage.

But he needed to get away. Arthur froze when a hand wrapped around his wrist. Stopping him. Being suddenly pulled against Uther’s chest, Arthur couldn’t help but tense up.

“It is not your fault. No matter who said what. It was never your fault. She loved you and wanted you more than anything. Never think it was your fault. You were innocent there Arthur.” Uther wasn’t sure what came over him.

Just a feeling that he would lose his son.

He held Arthur against his chest, holding him close. Giving him comfort. Arthur closed his eyes. Wondering if it would have been better to just ignore what he saw. Still, there was something about hearing Uther say it wasn’t his fault when for so long it always felt like he was the one who killed his mom.

AO3 Link

[eleganteonline]

NR-1: Solução ou Inimiga da Empresa?

A atualização da Norma Regulamentadora nº 1 (NR-1) tem gerado muitas dúvidas e inquietações em diversos setores empresariais. Afinal, ela representa uma nova exigência ou uma oportunidade estratégica? A resposta pode estar mais relacionada à forma como a empresa gere seu capital humano do que à norma em si. A NR-1 agora traz a obrigatoriedade da gestão dos riscos psicossociais, o que implica em…

[robsonescobar]

Adequação à Nova NR-01: Transforme Desafios Regulatórios em Oportunidades com a VIKON

Adequação à Nova NR-01: Transforme Desafios Regulatórios em Oportunidades com a VIKON A atualização da Norma Regulamentadora nº 1 (NR-01) representa uma mudança paradigmática no gerenciamento dos riscos ocupacionais. A partir de 26 de maio de 2025, todas as organizações – independentemente de seu porte – serão obrigadas a rever e adaptar suas práticas de segurança e saúde no trabalho. Essa nova…

[ubibotinc]

スマート リモート ネットワーク リレー NR1 は、電気機器の信頼性の高いリモート コントロールを提供することで、シームレスな自動化を実現します。直感的なインターフェイスと高度な接続機能により、スムーズな操作を実現します。スマート ホームのセットアップや産業オートメーションの強化に最適な NR1 は、接続されたシステムの効率的で柔軟な管理を実現します。

[berlinverkehr]

#pferdebahnwagen #nr1 im #technikmuseum #dtmb in #berlin

#pferdebahnwagen #nr1 im #technikmuseum #dtmb in #berlin

[pien-art]

constance hardbroom. her autism has bewitched me.

[sernik-krakowski]

Kazemaru every ten episodes or so

[plaguewormart]

Tw self harm

Vincent growing more and more anxious as the weeks pass. In the beginning of his pontificate, the stress of becoming pope Innocent XIV clouds his mind enough that he somehow manages to get through the days, but as the days start becoming normal and as Vincent starts settling into a routine, he starts thinking.

Thinking of those he left behind, mumbling their names in his prayers as he wonders if they’re still alive. He thinks of the children who treated him like a grandfather, and of how he will never see them grow up. He thinks of the parishioners who would welcome him into their homes and pray with him even on the darkest days.

Some nights, Vincent lays awake - often on the cold floor instead of the large bed - and he tries to recall the faces of his flock, and he cries as he realizes the memories are fading.

When he does sleep, Vincent often awakes in a cold sweat, his heart racing. Sometimes he can remember the dreams, other times they are nothing but a heavy darkness filling his soul.

Sometimes Vincent finds himself tracing the scars on his body. There are many, some remnants of a childhood spent playing outside, while others come from far darker memories.

He was young when he first learned how pain can be used to stay focused.

He misses the pain sometimes.

On particularly bad days red marks will join the scars on Vincent’s hands and arms. He makes sure no one notices. In meetings where the fates of human beings are discussed as if they were nothing but numbers, Vincent will keep his expression as neutral as ever as his right hand makes its way into the left sleeve of his cassock. He doesn’t flinch as fingernails dig into the skin on his forearms.

A few times - on days where he wakes with a scream in his throat and reads letters from all around the world, letters begging for help that he will never be able to give - he has to clean drops of blood from the inside of his cassock’s sleeves.

Vincent regularly prays for forgiveness, yet he keeps thanking God for the modesty of the vestments he wears. His arms are a mess of bruising and scratch marks more often than not, and he has taken to wearing undershirts to minimize the risk of anyone seeing the results of his sinful habit.

He convinces himself that it isn’t as big of a sin as other types of harming oneself. He knows of those who take blades to their skin or who burn themself with matches and lighters. Vincent isn’t actually hurting himself, he thinks, he is simply coping.

-

Thomas is the one to find out about it. Of course he is. He notices how the Pope keeps tucking his hands into his sleeves, and dismisses it as a nervous habit - until he looks closer and sees the blood that coats the Holy Father’s fingernails.

Thomas begs the Holy Father to stop. “You are the vicar of Christ on Earth!” He cries. “You cannot believe that this is the best way to handle your stress?” Thomas understands the Pope all too well, but in his eyes Innocent could never deserve the pain that Thomas inflicts on himself.

Thomas cannot stop himself from crying as he confronts the Holy Father. Tears are running down his cheeks as he asks Innocent to quit the habit. He cries into the Pope’s shoulder as Innocent envelopes him in a warm hug.

-

Vincent makes sure that Thomas doesn’t notice the way he slides a hand into his sleeve behind Thomas’ back as they embrace.

[chaosinstigator]

oscar now has the same amount of wins as lando🤭

[stolenbuckets]

"But they barely talked" fuck YOUUUU Logan Sargeant did not say "stand there and look pretty" for yall to dismiss the Situationship LiLo had in 2022 like that. They did not go through multiple downs and ups through the 2022, their Teammateship being your average "based on Wattpad Story xyz" Movie Adaptation for yall to say that shit. A little more love for LiLo. Also their Duo Name is extremely adorable (let's ignore Sarson for a Moment, in this Household we only know LiLo)

[lover-of-midnight]

Left for Dead

Morgana smiled as she stared at her brother. Already the blood was slowly spreading. She could see the betrayal in his eyes.

“This is for the best Arthur. You don’t want to see the changes I will bring. Camelot will be the best she was in centuries.” Her voice was cold. A pang went through her when he couched up blood.

She signed slightly. It is best that she just leaves. From the corner of her eye, she saw the way Arthur reached out for her. Blood dripping from his mouth before he slumps down again.

Arthur could only feel horror coursing through him. It was a normal evening, Morgana occasionally, came and visited him. He saw that something was wrong, her eyes were red and puffy from crying.

When he tried to give some comfort, he found a dagger in his stomach. Before he even had a chance to react, she forced it upwards, making the wound even worse. Before twisting and pulling it out.

Betrayal stings at his heart as he sees the smile, a coldness over her as she says something that he barely hears.

When she turned to leave, a sense of dread filled him. He slumps back onto the floor. He could feel the blood in his mouth he tried to cough out, but it only got worse. Dark spots danced in front of his eyes.

Is this really how it is going to go? To die like this? He did nothing to change the fate of his people. His people were still struggling. He needed to change this. He couldn’t die here. Arthur wasn’t sure how he managed to get to his knees.

Forcing himself upright. Feet dragging, blood dripping down his torso. It felt like miles between him and the door while it was just a few steps. Still, he forced himself to move.

Dark spots danced in front of his eyes as he finally managed to open the door, falling to the floor. At least there were guards.

He could hear people rushing around. Screaming sounded in the hallway as darkness dragged him under.

“Arthur.” Merlin’s voice was warm as the prince groaned. He crouched down gently whipping the sweat from his brow. “It is alright, you just need to rest.” Merlin could do a happy dance at the fact that he was finally waking up.

Arthur tried to open his eyes, but everything felt heavy. A whimper slipped through his lips as pain shot through his body. He tried to remember what happened. But his mind felt blank. Still, something urged him to sit upright. Fighting against the hands pushing him back down.

He needed to speak with Morgana. He needed… The thought ended as something was pressed against his mouth, on in stink he drank the concoction. Couching slightly at the vile taste. A hand was pressed against his shoulder.

He easily followed the silent command lying back down. Sleep dragged him back under.

When he woke up again, he woke to the sight of Merlin fast asleep next to the bed. A groan slipped through his lips as he tried to sit upright. Immediately Merlin woke up. Giving him a beaming smile.

“I’m so glad that you are okay.” The words came out in a rush as Merlin forced himself to sit upright. “How are you feeling?” There was a worried note in his voice.

Arthur was silent for a few seconds, trying to take stock of his body. Everything was in pain and his limbs felt they were made of lead.

“Sore.” The words came out in a whisper, as he looked down at the floor. “Merls…” Arthur trailed off, unsure of what he wanted to say. “It was Morgana, why?” His voice broke slightly. His hand reached out to Merlin’s.

Merlin gave him a soft look. There was a look of understanding in his eyes. “I know. The guards immediately reported it to the king. She is currently being held in the dungeons. Arthur, there is something that you need to know.” He took a deep breath. A part of him still feels frightened to speak freely of magic.

“Morgana has magic.” He forced the words out before he could think better of it. “From what I could gather. She did it to become the queen once Uther died.” Merlin winched slightly. The anger that had radiated from Uther when he found out, it was bad.

Arthur was silent as he tried to gather his thoughts.

“I have to let the King know you are awake,” Merlin whispered the words as he forced Arthur to lay back down. The prince groaned slightly as the movements agitated the wound.

All Arthur could do was look at the door waiting for something or someone to walk through the door. His heart felt like it was shattered. They weren’t always close, but in the last few months, they have grown closer as siblings.

Was it all a chance to get to kill him?

He forced himself upright again, trying to ignore the sharp pain that shot through his body. He could hear people in the hallway and then the king was in his room. Uther was pale, but his eyes bright with gratitude when he saw his son awake.

“Arthur.” The king breathed the word before he walked closer, settling down next to him. His hands were warm against Arthur’s as the prince tried to understand the emotions in the king's eyes.

With careful movements Uther pulled his son into a hug, making sure that he didn’t agitate the wound. It took Arthur a second to relax against his father before the tears started. Everything just came crashing down.

“I don’t understand. Why did she do it?” He whispered the words against his father’s chest. Breathing hitched slightly as Uther moved a hand. Just for a moment, he needed some stability. Just to be told everything will be alright.

“She saw you as a hurdle to her dreams. She wants to make magic free for all.” Uther easily answered. Still, he knew that the answer wouldn’t be enough for Arthur, the boy would never think of killing someone for his gain.

Uther pulled back slightly, he frowned slightly at the tears, but now wasn’t the time to reprimand him. Understandably, he was feeling overwhelmed and betrayed.

“Morgana is going to be beheaded tonight,” Uther muttered the words. Arthur froze, just staring at his father. How could they kill her? She was family.  Uther saw the look. “She tried to kill you, that is punishable by death. There is no other choice.” Uther’s voice was firm.

Arthur couldn’t bring himself to answer. His mind is racing.

Uther signed slightly. “Get some rest.” Uther helped him lay back down, pulling the blankets back up. Leaving Arthur to stew in his thoughts.

Merlin slipped back into the room. Seeing the look on Arthur’s face. He settled next to the prince. “Uther gave you the news?” His voice was soft as he gently ran his fingers through his hair, giving him some comfort.

Arthur could only nod.

“Go to sleep, my prince. Everything will look slightly better in the morning.” For a moment Arthur could see the gold in Merlin’s eyes before his mind fell quiet as sleep dragged him under. Merlin just sitting there, as he looked at the prince. Knowing they are going to have a long path forward.

Ao3 Link

[pussy-destroyer-1818]

How the FUCK does one have the thickest eyebrows on planet earth but is balding at the young age of 27?! His genetics are so ass bruh 💔

Serves that guy right tho.

Also admission: I was convinced he was Mexican till I got proved wrong from Evan Dorkin Himself #ImOnlyHuman

[andr33yy]

Drunk Cherik first kiss

Erik has been stealing glances of those cherry red lips the entire evening. The way they curved into a smile or how Charles quickly licked them while taking a breath.

Apparently, Charles was even more talkative with alchocol in his system. The man had been talking non-stop for the past 20 minutes, and Erik had dozed off from the conversation after the first 3. However, he had kept all of his attention to his friends face. He studied the freckles on the cheeks, the blue eyes and those red lips like he had a test to take. Erik felt weirdly drawn to Charles. Perhaps it was alchocol, but he wanted to brush those freckles and taste those red lips like there's no tomorrow.

After both friends came back to their hotel, Erik plopped Charles on one of the beds. He ended up being a cruch for Charles, because apparently two beers with additional six shots was a bit too much to handle for one person. As Erik crawled into his own bed, not a minute later he felt a weight crawl along with him.

"Not even gonna take what you want?" a low murmur said above Eriks ear.

"What?!" he flinched at the sudden presence.

"I saw the way you were looking at my lips," Charles whispered. "and your mind wasn't silent either." he continued as one hand dragged softly against Erik's side.

"Go to sleep, Charles! You're drunk." Lehnsherr said as he turned around and clumsily sat up against the bed board.

"I'm tipsy at best. College really ups the alc tolerance and all." he said, crawling closer on all fours. "But I'm surely bolder about my desires now..." Charles continued in a whisper just mere inches away from others face. "And I want you."

Erik's head was spinning and it sure wasn't from the beer. The last words pooled in his lower stomach like burning liquor as the lidded eyes fell to his friends lips anew.

"Can I kiss you, Erik?" Charles whispered into others lips.

"God, please..." a breathless pray came.

"Please, 'what'?" the question torn between tipsy concern and playfulness.

"Please kiss me, Charles..." Erik said barely above a whisper.

Immediately their lips calloused. It felt as if Charles had been hungry for years and Erik was his meal for the night. The kiss was passionate with teeth clanking and bruising lips. It tasted of earlier alchocol, intoxicating both men anew. As Charles sat on Erik's lap, he felt the strong arms pulling him closer, gripping on his clothes and sides. In reply, Charles grabbed onto Erik's nape, deepening the kiss.

'I hope he won't regret this in the morning.' Erik tought to himself.

"I deffinetly won't, if you won't." Charles whispered inbetween the breaths, as he looked into Erik's eyes.

"I sure as hell won't regret this." Erik replied as he devoured Charles' mouth anew.

[xxhauntedsoulxx]

"I want to watch adventure time with you"

[landoseswins]

let's drown ourselves in champagne with mama @landoposition