#of course i did

[drarw]

mouthwashing has really gotten aholda me

[an-internet-introvert]

Countdown to October 19th (10/19)

So Long London Apartment

[tamquira]

Another Disco elysium fanart I did! Of The heartbreaking scene. It was meant to be day 1 of a month long daily artwork challenge I wanted to do, to try and practice not to over-render everything. I gave up on day 2.

[multifunctionalnitroglycerin]

The Radiant Dawn, Leona of the Solari – an analysis

Leona, Leona, what to do with you, oh Radiant Dawn, daughter of the Sun-forgers? You who scorn love so, in the face of duty?

What with the latest season of Arcane having fully come out, and many of us still grasping to comprehend the ending of that wonderful series (I will maintain that it’s probably one of the best pieces of media I have ever had the joy of consuming), I got to thinking about another military dictator that leads a scourge against her lover’s people. So, strap in and grab your drinks, cause this is going to be a long one.

I have seen some funny posts juxtapositioning Violyn/ Caitvi and Leodia, and while one cannot deny the first glance similarities in the stories, especially with the new route Piltover’s finest took, the premise of their stories is at its core different.  BUT today we will not explore the similarities and differences in the premise of the broader systems that both stories take place in, but rather take a deeper look into our beloved obstacle of a Targonian “cult leader”, Leona.

            Now Leona’s character in league is rather…unremarkable at first glance. More of an obstacle than a worthy adversary, a mindless cultist that perpetuates the oppression against her peoples’ sister tribe, too blind to see past that, even when her lover begs her to. Personally, I prefer to think of Leona as an unremarkable character with remarkable potential, should Riot decide to ever do anything with it. The roots of a good story have already been planted. Because yes, in Arcane we also talked about oppression, class stratification, abuse of power, and a twisted corrupt judicial system, but now, in Targon, we’ll talk about cults.

I am no expert, but cultism and totalitarian regimes do have a few common points in the way they function, thus the perceived similarities between the two storylines. However, I feel in the hands of capable writers the Targonian storyline can become a beautiful story about religious fanatism, and cultism, the struggle of individuality, and how challenging it is to escape from them, if at all… (I do like some tragic lesbians, sue me. A happy ending that does justice to the inherent tragedy of those two will have to be earned, and if a tragic ending is what does them justice, I will accept it.)

It’s high time we got this party started though, isn’t it?

Leona is born in the Solari tribe of Targon, a tribe that venerated the Sun more than any other upon the mountain. Which at first glance seems innocent enough, right?

Cults in principle, and to my limited understanding, are authoritarian systems that revolve around a particular belief, that have rules and dogma and encourage their members to isolate themselves from would-be questioners of their faith. By taking a look at what we know about the Solari, most of these terms seem to be fulfilled. An authoritarian system based around the worship of the Sun, with strict rules, rigid principles, and rituals, led not by one charismatic leader, as many cults are, but by a council of elders, that determine what is acceptable and what not in Her worship. While they also take care to mindfully curate the available information in the temple and discourage or silence those that oppose their teachings.

Leona is a child born to the Sun-forgers Melia and Iasur, and takes to her parents’ faith with a stride, comfortable in its rigidity and its unrelenting structures. She is reportedly as seen both through her bio and the letter to her parents in “Rise with me”, a near perfect acolyte, her devotion, and excellence in seemingly everything but that one oration class, inspiring envy in her peers, and admiration in her elders, all of them certain that she would one day become a Ra’Horak, a holy warrior of the Solari.

The thing is, that children growing up in cults are a tricky thing to write despite its supposed straightforwardness. Especially if you want to create a character as complicated as I hope Leona will turn out to be. The basics of it are things we already know; children are extremely vulnerable to adult influence; their minds are sponges and their parents’ world is their world. They listen, observe and absorb the behavior, the views and opinions of the people around them, and accept them as reality, because they are children and do not know any better. As one might imagine, the extent of fanatism that Leona grew up with is variable, depending on how her own parents acted and how deep in they were themselves. Now I am a bit rusty on Rakori and Targonian lore, but if we take the short story “Rise with me” into account, I think it is safe to say that Melia and Iasur were in pretty deep.

Another thing to note about children that grow up in cults is that the cult leader and the cult’s needs come first. Which means that the child rarely enjoys their parents’ attention, much less love and affection. Something that in my humble opinion would drive some of them to strive for perfection and trying to satisfy their parents’ every wish and every whim, in hope of getting even a hint of affection. That is something we can see rather clearly in the story if we want to examine a bit Leona’s relationship with her Dayblessed parents.

Before we dive into that, however, what we can summarize from all of the above is that Leona is, in principle, a person that likes rules. Someone that grew up heeding them. That thrives in hierarchical systems, and well-structured environments, with clear denominations for right and wrong, for what one should and should not do. According to the bio this rigidity brings her comfort, and solace. Because it is familiar and comfortable. It’s what in all probability she grew up with. Moreover, Leona is a perfectionist. Something we are told, through her bio, and her own letters and diary, but we can also see when looking at her through the lens of Diana’s eyes.

To continue with my previous point, though, when looking at her relationship with her parents…well, I’ll let you figure this out on your own. We only have her diary entries and letters sent and unsent to garner information from, but that is enough to paint a detailed enough picture of what her relationship with her parents entails. Even without looking at it from the “child that grew up in a cult” angle, we can see there is little affection between them. Even from her first letter, we can feel the clean-cut, prim and proper courteousness of their communication, accompanied by the hints of affection every child holds for their parents. It is, however, far from warm, or heartfelt. It seems more like kind interest, than any real investment, in her parents’ or siblings’ wellbeing and then proceeds to become a report on her achievements and perceived weaknesses. Even the title of the section, the opening of the letter, “Letter from a devoted daughter” holds no personality, as if Leona’s entire being can be compressed and described by those two words.

We do get a similar impression from the letter Polymnius sent to Melia and Iasur. The letter itself contains the priest’s thanks for the new lanternglass crafted by the sun-forger, and also devolves to a report of Leona’s progress after his communication with all of her instructors, and his observation of her skills in battle. Now on the one hand, Polymnius could be just a family friend or the priest responsible for communicating with the acolytes’ families. On the other hand however, one might start questioning just how much control Leona’s parents can exert over her life, even in their absence. Do they hold sway with the priesthood? Are their immense expectations passed on through priests and teachers, adding more and more to the pressure Leona faces every day? To be strong, devout, worthy and good? And again, the letter ends with  “I know you would be proud.” I am sure they would Polymnius, I am sure they would.

            At this point I’d like to point out that he is probably the only person that worries that Leona is taking her duties far too seriously and needs to take a few steps back to relax and delight in the Sun’s gifts. (And honestly, same.)

Moving forward we have the Letter from Sunsworn Priestess Nemyah to a shining pupil, that once more applauds Leona for her achievements, with little to no fanfare. And again we note that sense of depersonalization, of Leona being defined by those characterizations, by her achievements, her rights and wrongs. 

            And then of course we get into the fight between Leona and Diana and the disciplinary letter sent to her by her parents. Which honestly goes about as well as you would expect,

We know that you are capable of better and expect you to rise to the occasion. Leaders in Her Light do not run into impediments that they cannot overcome, nor do they get hindered by such earthly mischief as “a shouting match at school.”

And of course

…will speak with you about how better to secure your future then.

So much for parental love… If anything, it’s a declaration of disappointment, with clear expectations and measures to be met, We know you are better than this, we expect you to be better than this, leaders do not fumble. Sounds particularly loving, doesn’t it? Definitely not like they worry about their reputation, and their image in the community more than their daughter’s wellbeing and most certainly not like they have her future already decided for her. A future they can benefit from, of course.

I will try to keep this at a reasonable length and will not overly analyze Leona’s own unsent replies, for they are pretty straightforward. They are characterized by Leona’s anxiety, fear and guilt for disappointing her parents and failing to reach the tremendous expectations they have set for her.

            So to sum this part up, Leona was raised by overly strict parents, in an environment in which she received little to no affection and positive reinforcement, even for her achievements that far exceeded those of her peers. She has also been burdened with a set of rather impossible expectations, that she strives to reach no matter what. We saw that Iasur and Melia are quick to discipline her and voice their disappointment, rather rancidly might I say, and yet made little to no mention of Leona’s multiple achievements that have been noted by multiple instructors as well as Polymnius. As for Leona herself, one might say she is afraid to be herself and express her own thoughts. Even when she writes a letter that truly encompasses her thoughts and feelings, in that same letter she resolutely states that she will not send it.

So insofar we have an affection-starved, rule-loving perfectionist, that probably hasn’t had any positive reinforcement since she was like 5 and has her parents and everyone around her connect and define her worth as a person though her personal achievements and services in Her light. It would be safe to assume that from a point on, Leona herself starts putting herself in those boxes, limiting her sense of self and worth to the glass ceiling of their expectations, adding more and more expectations on herself, back bending further and further back, until inevitably reaching her breaking point. And of course, this is all she has ever known. The rules, the hierarchy, the expectations, the dogma, is what she grew up with, is what feels familiar, and in a twisted sense, “right”.  We could thus somewhat explain why Leona holds her duty in such high regard. She has come to define herself and her worth as a person, through it. It’s all she has ever really known.

            Not to say that things are as bleak as they seem at first glance. For there is one shining light in Leona’s life, one guiding beacon that tries to break her out of the glass cage, at least at the point in time when Rise With Me takes place, and it is none other than Diana.

            Now, according to Leona’s bio, she saw in Diana an ever-curious spirit devoted to the search for meaning, and the truth, and that’s sth that holds up in the short story as well. Diana’s ingenuity and unique perspective of things, her being the one dissonant voice in the harmonious chorus of the elders’ teachings, intrigue young Leona.

When looking into the respective missives that Leona sends to Diana in respects of their shared oration class, starting from the first one even, we can see that despite all the greatness she has achieved, all her triumphs, and graces, she remains shy, and humble. Even knowing that she is amongst the best of her peers, and the priests’ favorites, she does not brag, does not demand, does not exert any power or control. Instead, she approaches her faults humbly and asks for Diana’s – the outcast’s - help in a respectful manner. She does not let her shortcomings define her or hinder her. She recognizes them as something to improve, and humbly asks for help from someone she believes she can benefit from, someone that will help, and not just shower her with mindless praise.  She recognizes Diana’s ingenuity and applauds her argument construction; while pledging to help her in return should Diana need assistance herself.

Leona is humble and kind. Though to a certain degree we might even consider her having a bit of a people pleasing attitude accompanied by a slight lack of confidence. Perfectionists as a rule hate making mistakes or seeming inadequate. It’s a big blow in their confidence and the sense of self they have constructed around the concept of said perfection. After living for so long in an environment of such heavy expectations, it’s no wonder one might start second-guessing themselves, no matter how good they are, even for the smallest of mistakes.

            Back to Leona though, she is humble, kind and considerate, perhaps even to a fault. There is this sense of her not wanting to impose on Diana’s schedule, on which she rather insists. She doesn’t want to be trouble, she does not want to be a burden, and of course she then offers her own help in return should it be needed, which is the decent and honorable thing to do.

            Leona’s diary entry where she considers asking Diana to the festival is what also gives us a glimpse of the person behind the armor, behind the rule abiding student, behind the mask of achievements and perfection. To no surprise, we get a more in depth perspective of Leona’s own thoughts and feelings, as long as her take on “how to ask the girl I like out without coming across like a total fool, or indoctrinating asshole?” She is anxious, thoughtful and tender, considerate and sweet in her approach, and a little bit hopeless, but I think we can forgive her. She is downright smitten and hasn’t realized how much just yet. She even goes through with one of her plans to ask Diana to practice with the shields, and well, forgive me if I say it is adorable.

            Diana’s presence in Leona’s life and story, however, is not important because the will-be Aspect of the Sun is absolutely smitten with her, or even because she encompasses the total opposite of what Leona is (which let’s be honest, she doesn’t. They are complimentary to one another, not opposites), but because Diana makes Leona think.

            That’s the reason Leona approached her in the first place, her ability to think and construct cohesive and compelling arguments. Something that Leona herself is lacking in, because alongside most of the other Solari acolytes, she lacks critical thinking. An essential component of trying to construct an argument of any sort - if you do not want to parrot something you learned in a book once.

            Diana’s arguments, thoughts and criticisms on their given materials have Leona thinking, examining what she is taught, and what she says in oration class herself. Diana teaches Leona how to think, she teaches her how to construct arguments, how to reinforce them, to find fallacies in arguments and counteract them. In her quest to learn how to defend her point, Leona starts learning how to look deeper into things, to examine their essence, and construct counterpoints. And we can see that she starts thinking about it, if only superficially. She doesn’t go full out critical thinking, or questioning everything she has ever known, it doesn’t work like that, but the seed has been planted.  “Why do you think I need to go deeper than that when it’s widely known already?” It’s not much but it is a start to the path of critical thinking.

And then after an undetermined amount of time, comes their shared ascension. And that’s where the discrepancies in the story start. Mind you the bio was written a few years before the short story came out, so the characterization obviously is not entirely in line with what we know.

            This Leona is one that debates with Diana still, but wants to persuade her not to look further into their faith, and just accept it as it is. At Diana’s sharing the secret of the alcove, Leona is a stone wall of resistance urging her friend away from the climb, afraid for her wellbeing should she inspire further ire from the Solari. When Diana inevitably climbs the mountain, and while her first instinct is to alert the elders, Leona resolves to help and protect her friend instead and follows after her into the night. Against all odds they manage to reach the peak, and she is wreathed in golden light, fighting tooth and nail to keep her sense of self intact. And she wins.

            At this point, I think we can all see the difference between bio-Leona and the Leona that the short story sets the foundations of. Obviously for the sake of storytelling and with some tweaking these two could co-exist as canon versions of Leona in different times of her life. We could potentially be talking about a tragic story about how religion and blind adherence to duty and tradition drive a wedge between two people that very much love each other. Or the bio could be a bit of a “historical account” of what happened, and Leona having had to care for Diana after her punishments one too many times puts up a wall of resistance, an ultimatum of the “I don’t want to lose you” kind.

            No matter the case, and despite of what Riot might decide to do to expand on their story, and either give us a critical thinking Leona, or a very good reason for not having a critical thinking Leona, the point is that Leona is incredibly loyal to those she cares about.

            And now comes the point of the ascension. The critical point in their story, where instead of going with Diana, and living their happily ever after away from the system that tortured them both, albeit in completely different manners, Leona chooses to stay.

            And I think sometimes when thinking about Leona, we do not always recognize that this is the point where everything is going down. This is the point where everything we have so far discussed comes into play. Because their ascension is a traumatic experience. One that upends everything Leona has ever known. The process of their ascension is traumatic, the very essence of it, bloody terrifying. Because it is a jump into the unknown. It challenges the truths that she has constructed her whole sense of self around, demolishes the very principles that she grew up enforcing.

            There is this interaction in Legends of Runeterra, where Diana urges Leona to understand that Day needs Night, referencing the visions they both saw upon Targon’s peak. And what does Leona reply? “Visions from memories not my own.”

            Full-blown denial. Not that I particularly blame her initial reaction. Because what is it that we have here? We have that affection-starved perfectionist that grew up in a cult, that wounded inner child that has come to tie her worth as a person to the degree of her personal achievements. We have that honorable, rule abiding, and duty loving person, a person that finds solace in strict structures and hierarchies, that thrives in them, thrown into absolute CHAOS.

You have Leona, that rule abiding idiot, that transcends her own limits that takes that one calculated risk to follow Diana and save her from the mountain’s clutches and ends up with watching a blast of divine light slamming into Diana. She goes to help, and before she can help a blast of divine light slams into her, filling her head with a second divine conscience, with visions and memories of other Sun Aspects, of times when truly the people of the mountain were united. And then the onslaught ends, and she faces a Diana different from the one she knows, a Diana dressed in the colors of the enemy.

            So Leona, bearing all of the characteristics we mentioned above, is bloody terrified out of her wits. She is faced with such terrifyingly foreign notions, with such stress, that what is she going to do? She regresses back to what she already knows. And what she knows are the elders and the Solari, and the priests, the rules, the scriptures, the dogma. In face of that terrifying truth she regresses back to the perceived safety of that toxic and unhealthy system -that on top of everything is a cult- that she grew up in.

            Now this brings forth this thought about ignorance. Because Leona is ignorant of the truth. She is, however, intimately familiar with the narrative she has grown up with. People are familiar with their ignorance, and oftentimes they choose to bear the ills of what they know than to fly to others that they know not of. And thus, they are cowards. (Hamlet anyone?)

Leona is a prime example of that. Instead of sitting down and considering the new information, the truth revealed, the unknown future ahead, she clings to her ignorance, to her half-knowledge of the story, because it is familiar, and safe. And she is bloody terrified of the new unknown that Diana proposes they follow.

Now that is not to say that everything we have discussed boils down to Leona is a coward. Though that is partly true. But she is also a kid that grew up in a system that fostered that kind of cowardice. She is someone that grew up in an environment of cultism and religious fanatism, and she grew up ingrained to it. Contrary to Diana as one might point out. And these are all things we need to take into account when handling a character like Leona, and care that we do not flatten such immense complexity of conditions and circumstances, such depth of thought and emotion to “brainless genocidal cultist”. 

(Now if you ask, why does Diana have critical thinking, why did she not get ingrained and lost in that system despite growing up in it for as long if not longer than Leona, what is it that makes her different from the other cult kids, I have absolutely no idea, but that’s not the point of this particular post.)

To finish this off, the point of this post is not to excuse Leona of all the horrible things she has done, or even to argue that she is not a genocidal cultist- she very much is, and the point is definitely not to say that it is not her fault and she was just a product of her circumstances. We all are products of the circumstances that surround us, but we are not passive participants in those conditions. No, the point is to try and understand where Leona might be coming from, and to demonstrate that even the simplest and most obtuse of character concepts can have an intricate and complicated story behind them.

If you did manage to reach the end of this, congratulations! Have a cookie and don’t forget to hydrate!

[sadiegirl2021]

[blue-lollipops-and-ice-clouds]

IV.

(Source - the ever amazing, brilliant, beloved, and talented Adamrosssi)

[yandereunsolved]

Hello!

So I had this idea for a yandare oneshot about Kit Walker from AHS Asylum and I was wondering if I could maybe request it to you... It goes like this:

A yandere female nun who is secretly obsessed with Kit while he's an inmate in Briarcliff, so one day she goes to the extreme and assaults him while he is in bed or something

I would really appreciate it if you could shape this idea into a oneshot xxx

God's Design - ,, yandere fem. reader nun × kit walker

tw(s): yandere themes, physical assault, suggestive themes, toxic religious ideals, dubcon kissing, semi-graphic gore word count: 2.5k a/n: thank you, anon! Hope I fulfilled your request correctly. :)

The halls of Briarcliff almost near cease their cacophonous noises: patients screaming at the top of their lungs, the pipes straining from being overused, the sound of the orderlies correcting someone, and the loudest of them all was the noise of God. That nagging feeling in the back of your head whenever a sinful thought came to mind. How tempting the devil had made those thoughts to your malleable mind. One moment you were praying with your rosary, and the next your hand was slipping down towards your frilly-laced underwear. 

It was an unspoken rule to never adorn anything provocative, nothing possibly pleasing to the eye. It was a rule that every nun held sacred. Not allowing men's eyes to stray was the woman's job. Those were the rules set within the pages of the holy book.

Despite that, all you wanted to do was make his eyes stray. From the first time you saw him, you could feel your determination crumble. That holiness within you began to shrivel up like a prune. You began wearing lingerie under your uniform, teasing yourself at night. You began fantasizing about what a night with him would look like. You had never been with a man before. You had promised that you would wait until marriage.

They call him Bloody Face, but he didn't have the eyes of a killer. No, his hazel irises encapsulated much more of a lamb to the slaughter, a spooked doe in the field of life. Those eyes have called to you since you first glanced at them. They were drawing you in like a sailor at sea. Only the sea you have yet to sail is one of the most forbidden ones—the seven sinful seas. All you yearn to do is explore lust, dip your toes into its waters, and relinquish control of your sails to allow the winds of sensuality to guide you. 

You sneaked peeks at him in-between your normal shift. You tried your hardest to suppress these bubbling desires. Every time you popped one another, a few would float to the surface. It was like a never-ending cycle of torture. Each peek and small exchange left you wanting more of him. You wanted to devour him entirely, to wholeheartedly feel him in ecstasy. You wanted to see those tears and puppy-like expressions directed at you. You didn't. You still don't want any of the other nuns near him. 

You sat at the foot of your bed for many hours that fateful night. You re-read many biblical passages to set yourself right. Losing yourself in your bodily flesh would be a great sin, wouldn't it? Your mind brimming with these detestable daydreams only led you to seek further counsel. You prayed to the highest angels and saints and to the great God himself for guidance on what was to become of you.

'1st Corinthians 6:18— Flee immorality. Every other sin that a man commits is outside the body, but the immoral man sins against his own body.'

You repeated it quietly, with your hands ardently colliding together. The other night, there had just been a slip in your judgment. You hadn't meant to walk past his cell and feel your body grow hotter. You hadn't meant to skip your nightly devotional in favor of more covetous inclinations. You hadn't meant to slip on that white, satiny baby doll and admire yourself in it. You hadn't meant to almost break into his room and show yourself to him like a needy whore.

How vile! You recoil from your bedside at your own enervated nature and decrepit mind. The devil is tempting you and your womanly nature. You took a vow—an oath. You have to wait until your marriage. You have to wait for your man. 

He killed women after all. He is not a man of God. He is a man of pure sin. He is a man of cruelty and evil. He could be the devil himself, trying to tempt you into impurity. Yet you wanted to allow him in.

'1st Thessolonians 4:3— For this is the will of God, your sanctification; that is, that you abstain from sexual immorality.'

You read again. Your eyes are blurred as heavy droplets of your own suppressed sexuality bleed onto the pages filled with divinity. You were slipping. Are you losing your devotion to God? Are you losing your devotion to the cause of saving these twisted souls?

No, you assure yourself. This must be God's calling for you. He's telling you that Kit is innocent. He's compelling you to marry this man. He's urging you to find sanctity within his arms. God knows he is your future husband. That's why you feel this way! It has to be. 

In the next few weeks, you will begin to add Kit to your normal schedule. You assure the other sisters that you want to take on the challenge of caring for such a dangerous man. Sister Mary Eunice keeps giving you weird side glances and avoiding you, but you don't quite care. Her overall attitude has changed towards Briarcliff, but so has yours. You've found your purpose now. 

Every interaction with him fuels your desire to be his wife. You flirt with him subtly. When he gives you that curious expression you brush it off with a certain amount of charm and naive innocence. Your attempts at courting him are clumsy at best. Yet, it seems to be working well enough.  

You keep him away from Grace forever. They had been growing too close. They had been through too much. You planted fake evidence in her room so that she would get punished. You whispered rumors around her and sowed distrust in their once-inseparable bond. You make her life a hell of your own making. One even worse than the walls inside Briarcliff had given her. 

You saw the wedge growing in their relationship because of you. You planted yourself in her place, like a sprout replacing an invasive weed. You always slipped him extra food when it came time. You always read the Bible with him; he gave his life to Christ because of you. You both shared your most intimate secrets in the dead of night. Your relationship had grown to be something even God would envy.

That bitch just had to go and sow discord into your plentiful relationship.

You walked into the kitchen with a batch of dough that needed to set for a few hours. Your eyes widened in horror at what you saw, your pupils dilating to adjust to the lack of light in the kitchen. The large bowl slipped from your hands and crashed onto the floor. You turned around and bolted away like a frightened rabbit. You couldn't even stand to look at the scene for more than a moment. It was like seeing an angel get its wings torn off while falling from paradise.

That succubus was defiling your man. His head was thrown back in pure ecstasy—a dream in your head that you wanted to be between the both of you. Instead, that leech had him in between her legs. They were both in sync, their souls and hearts intertwined. It tore what little self-restraint you had to pieces. You could no longer wait for him to realize God's plan for the both of you.

In the dead of night, after both earned their punishment, you sneak into her room. A kitchen knife lies in your left hand, right behind your back. You'll stab her and make her feel the excruciating agony you felt. Every last drop of it. You enter her room swiftly with a slightly unhinged grin gracing your shadowed features.

She turns and gives you a surprised expression. Her stomach rumbles as she is expecting a bland dinner with as much nutrition as a wet rock. She blinks wearily as you move towards her. She seems apprehensive, but her body language is mostly relaxed. You were the one person who always seemed to be there for her. You were there for every patient. That's what made you everyone's favorite nun.

"Sister?" She calls out anxiously as she wraps an arm around her midsection. "Is dinner late? Or is this concerning my sterilization?"

"Oh, Grace." You murmur in a frenzied manner.

She backs away against the wall as her eyes dart quickly towards the door and back at you. You had locked the door, and your key was somewhere under your garments. She really didn't want to have to grope you to escape. Still, if you did have ill intentions towards her, she'd do whatever she needed to survive. 

"God gave me a Revelation. I found it in my Bible."

You move towards her and swing the knife clumsily. You were a nun, not a murderer. You weren't a murderer until your one true love came along. He just makes you a little unhinged sometimes. It's all in God's plan.

She stumbles back as her palms rest against the stone walls. Her breaths become frantic as her heart speedily beats. She goes into survival mode. A punch is thrown at you as her eyebrows furrow in concentration.

"What the hell! Doesn't your little book tell you not to murder or something?" She screams in a high-pitched tone, doing her best to possibly get someone's attention in this damned hellhole. 

She begins to shriek like a banshee as she fruitlessly struggles against you. Your free hand wraps around her wrist as you sink the knife into her throat. It makes a satisfying squelch as it slices through her skin like a knife through hot butter. She bucks against you like a wild bull as the sanguine fluid spurts out of her gaping wound. 

Another strangled scream escapes from her cracked lips. Her cries and wails fuel your murderous rage as your knife continuously sinks into her supple flesh. You stab, and stab, and stab for what feels like hours on end. You make sure she knows how much she betrayed you. How much she betrayed her Lord and Savior, Jesus Christ.

Eventually, her body and mind fail her. She slumps against your figure as the light escapes her eyes swiftly. Her soul is forced out of her body as she becomes a permanent part of Briarcliff. You giggle and smile as the knife digs into her heart. You carve it out of her chest and stab it for the umpteenth time. It squirts out more of her sinful, gooey fluid.

You stare at her limp, lifeless body. Your rage cools a few moments after that. You have no regrets. In the eyes of God you were doing something holy.

"I gave her time to repent, and she did not want to repent of her immorality." You state passively as you grimace at her corpse.

You'll clean yourself and then tell everyone tomorrow that a crazed patient broke into her cell and killed her. You are the asylum's perfect little golden nun, after all. No one will suspect a thing, just as they shouldn't. Visting her was only your first stop tonight. Your second and final, Kit's holding cell.

You slip through the darkened halls with a spring in your elated step. You stopped at your room to wash off and get rid of the kitchen knife. You slip into that precious baby doll as you put your coveted uniform over top of it. You smile in the mirror gently, your spirits as high as the heavens. 

Entire months now come down to these few moments. Your figure slips into his room. The poor thing is still strapped to his bed. Bruises line his toned figure. The paper-thin blanket barely covers his body. His thick, white hospital shirt ridding up, exposing his v-line and abs. His chest is gently moving up and down, calling to you.

You don't want to interrupt your man's slumber, but you need him to know the truth. You climb on top of his sleeping body. Each of your thighs straddling his side. One of your hands reaches down to his exposed stomach as you trail feather light touches over it. An overly excited giggle escapes your lips. 

It has all led up to this moment. Your meeting, your small talk, and your private moments. Those torturous minutes that turned into hours transformed into days in which you were barely able to see a glimpse of him. You spent all those nights praying for a man, and now you have the one that God meant for you. You'll make him forget all about that whore who besmirched him. 

"I wore something just for you, Kit." You whisper those honeyed words into the soft flesh of his pale ear.

You press a hungry kiss onto his lips as your nails dig into him. He bolts awake and panicks as his mind tries to sluggishly process what is happening. He struggles against you for a moment as his pupils dilate to adjust to the surrounding darkness. He recognizes you as his hands grip onto the sides of your thighs. A strangled groan escapes his lips as your assault on them doesn't stop.

"Sugah, slow down now." He murmurs gently with a purr escaping his velvety throat.

His lips don't resist you but return your fervent devotion to his. Everything stops in those moments as the world fades to black. There's nothing more to the both of you than two touch-starved bodies that crave an intimate connection. It was as if, in that moment, both of your hearts became one; your souls had found each other after so long.

Kit hadn't realized how starving he had been. Not just of mind but also of body. This pure sense of need wasn't something he got from Grace or Alma. Somehow, theirs was something corruptly desperate. Yours was nothing more than a divine and guttural urgency for his presence. Your movements were like those of a follower pleasing their divine being.

Everything that happened so far was for this moment. It was worth every single moment. It was worth getting caught with Grace. To see that absolute expression of anguish in those saintly irises of yours. He knew it would drive you right over the edge. He knew you wouldn't be able to resist him after that. He just wanted needed to have a pretty little nun save him from his sins.

"No, no, I can't. We were meant to be. I—"

Kit cuts you off as his hands curl around the edges of your uniform. He presses his forehead against yours intimately as he looks up at you with those doey hazel eyes. A short pant escapes his mouth as he tries to form words. It proves difficult because his entire being is yearning for the proximity of yours.

"I love you." He croaks out in pure bliss. His mouth moves from sacred lips down to the inviting nape of your neck.

God's design? No, it was his.

-ˋˏ✄┈┈┈┈

✎...ღ taglist: @coentinim @cxndiedvi0lets @nahoyasboyfriend @bluerthanvelvet444

[parentheses-posts]

wait the {} are actually called curly brackets? is that like their government name or whatever it’s called

I'm pretty sure that's what they're supposed to be called, though braces is an equally correct title for them. I use curly brackets because it is more immediately obvious what I am referring to.

I definitely would not have assigned the color orange to them, in my mind, they're more like a lavender color, or maybe light blue. Just like how math is red.

[walnutmistjamie]

@giftober 2023 Day 2: Coffee/Tea

[sweetchildofrocknroll]

[threeofeight]

[dreamy-dread]

Why did I draw him like this?

[invinciblerodent]

oh these are evil notes to put on the Hawke armor

[nym-wibbly]

Down to Agincourt - here we go

So, after several nudges (and someone finally sending me the author and link as well as the title!), I started reading/listening to my text-to-voice software [badly] reading @seperis ' epic Down to Agincourt series.

"You don't have to work this hard," Dean assures him uneasily; every instinct is telling him there is something profoundly wrong here. "I really don't like you already." "And my work here is done." Castiel lifts one shoulder in the impression of a shrug, like he can't bother himself to even make the effort to do it right. Dean didn't realize he started toward him until he's close enough to see Castiel's face, a blur-edged oval with skin bleached of all color in brutal contrast to smudges like bruises beneath shadowed eyes.

It's gonna be one of those semi-lethal brainworms that wiggles in and never leaves again, so I'm still getting flashbacks and random belated insights about it in 30 years time, isn't it?

[tommyboweinabowtie]

i had to

new profile pic

[yersifanel]

Chapters: 1/? Fandom: Spider-Man: Spider-Verse (Sony Animated Movies) Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings Relationships: Hobie Brown/Miles Morales/Gwen Stacy | Spider-Gwen, Hobie Brown/Gwen Stacy | Spider-Gwen, Miles Morales/Gwen Stacy | Spider-Gwen, Hobie Brown/Miles Morales Characters: Hobie Brown, Gwen Stacy | Spider-Gwen, Miles Morales, Pavitr Prabhakar, Peni Parker (Spider-Man: Into the Spider-Verse), Peter Benjamin Parker | Spider-Man Noir, Miguel O'Hara, Jessica Drew, Peter B. Parker (Spider-Man: Into the Spider-Verse), Spot | Bagel Guy (Spider-Man: Across the Spider-Verse) Additional Tags: Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Music, Slow Burn, Miscommunication, Hurt/Comfort, Fluff and Angst, Developing Relationship, canon is fake except for the parts that I like, Soul Bond, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Pining, Canon-Typical Violence, Other Additional Tags to Be Added Series: Part 1 of Composing a Major Triad Summary:

Gwen and Miles could use some help. Definitely support, perhaps some guidance, maybe even a friend. What they didn't need was some punk nagging them about soul connections and destiny. Whatever they needed, Hobie wanted to be that, if they let him.

Or: Miles, Gwen, and Hobie are a triad. But only one of them is aware of that.

The first part is up! I’m so happy it’s finally ready to be shared.