#i also don't look good without that filter tbh

[lovelytsunoda]

holding out for a hero ( iii ) // platonic! mercedes amg

summary: a holiday party at marcus armstrong's house brings changes to y/n's life, in the form of both a british f2 driver she'd rather not show her face around ever again, and a very awkward milestone.

pairing: platonic!mercedes amg f1 x reader, brief olli caldwell x reader

warnings: first kisses, a slew of emotions i don't want to unpack, it's going to be cute and angsty all at the same time, self-deprecation, basically the same warnings as the rest of the series tbh, mentions of an alcohol allergy, paul being a little shit

author's note: this is lowkey based on the story of my first kiss from last december . . . i actually hated it all and we're back to the drawing board on that whole dating thing. i fear my standards may be too high.

this series would make such a good sitcom tbh

"marcus, for the last time, i don't do parties." y/n insisted, frowning at the face on her phone as she stride out of the mercedes building in brackley. "i don't care that i already know most of the people who are going to be there, or that the guys are bringing their girlfriends. the answer is no."

"come on!" marcus armstrong begged on the other end of the facetime call, laughing as the young intern clumsily zipped up her tommy hilfiger jacket, hiding the bottom half of her face under the collar as the wind whipped her face, flakes of snow beginning to fall from the winter sky. "it's not as bad as you're thinking it's going to be. it's literally just at my house, my younger sister is going to be there."

y/n snorted. "come on, armstrong. if you think telling me that your teenaged sister is going to be at the party is a drawing factor, you need to reevaluate things in your life. besides, liam is going to be there and it's going to be ultra painful to see him and his girlfriend being all loved up."

silverstone had been a huge knock to y/n y/l/n's self-confidence. it had taken a lot for her to allow herself to be that vulnerable. to dance in front of the rowdy group of boys, to let her guard down long enough to meet new people, to have a good time.

to tell liam lawson that she thought he was cute, just for liam to shatter her heart into a million peices without even meaning or trying to.

god, she wished she could stop being so sensitive sometimes.

she hadn't been to another race since. she also hadn't spoken directly to liam, occasionally being looped into things on the group chat. as far as she was aware, red bull were shipping him off to japan with cem bolukbasi to run a superformula test.

she was heading back to her car now, the cold air turning her fingers numb as she clutched her phone, digging in her pocket for her car keys.

"i'm not doing it, armstrong."

"and why the bloody hell not? you had a great time in sliverstone, and i'll have james keep liam away from you if that would make you feel better."

y/n had opened her mouth to say something when she felt a pair of hands clapping her on the shoulders.

"she's going." susie wolff insisted. "come on, y/n. you need to get out more. you deserve to let yourself have fun."

"but this party isn't going to be fun, susie."

susie grinned, hands in the deep front pockets of her trench coat. "you won't know unless you try it, kiddo." she turned to the phone. "marcus, she'll be there!"

____

y/n stood in front of her mirrored closet door, smoothing her fingers over her hair, drawn back into a tight half-up ponytail kind of style.

"you look great, kiddo!" angela cullen's voice faintly filtered through the phone speakers, a kelsy karter song playing softly from the turntable in the corner.

"ang, i'm going to make a fool out of myself out there." y/n groaned. "i hate parties!"

"but you know these guys, y/n. you know marcus, you know clem and you know fred. you'll be fine. with that being said, if you want to leave early, call one of us."

"oh, you'll definitley be getting some kind of call." she rolled her eyes, stopping the turntable and sliding the shiny black vinyl back into it's sleeve, fairy lights twinkling above her. "what if they don't like me, angela?"

"and what if they love you?"

after bidding the physiotherapist her goodbyes, y/n pocketed her phone and padded across the dusty apartment floor to her kitchen. the apartment felt too big for her to live in on her own, and technically she didn't, but it's not like her roommate was ever home. she sighed to herself, opening the fridge to stare at the almost empty shelf, making a mental note to order her groceries.

if there was anything that gave her anxiety, it was grocery shopping. there was a voice in her head that always seemed to tell her that the cashier ringing her groceries through was judging her, or that that mother with two kids in a stroller was frowning at the nutritional index of meals she hadn't even made yet.

she grabbed the plastic container with the kirkland signature logo, groaning to herself as she realized that the lettuce in her pre-made ceaser salad had gone off.

"fuck me." she muttered, throwing the entire thing in the trash before grabbing a ziploc container filled with sliced peppers, that way she had at least eaten something before she went to the party.

just in case her anxiety stamped out her appetite

her nimble fingers sailed across the keyboard as she texted clement, asking for a ride to marcus'. she had no idea where she was going, and she didn't want to be lost in london this close to the new year.

i'll be at the apartment in twenty, and i've got my girlfriend with me. she can't wait to meet you! you're going to have a great time at marcus'

she took a deep breath, reminding herself to calm down a little. it was just marcus armstrong's house. what could possibly go wrong? they're the same people she had such a great time with at silverstone, right?

_____

she regretted going to marcus' almost as soon as she walked through the doors to his massive penthouse. at the track, they could pretend that they were all the same. but not here, not out in the real world when y/n walked through the front doors of his doorman building with glass elevators, his penthouse that was bigger than even the townhouse she grew up in with her parents.

in the kitchen, marcus had stacked a sturdy tower of martini glasses. behind them, felipe drugovich was standing on a kitchen chair with a bottle of ferrari trento champagne in his arms.

"i've always wanted to do this!" the f2 champion shouted. "come on, guys. someone get this on tape!"

"dear lord, what are the twenty stooges doing now?" she groaned, leaning against the wall next to jehan daruvala.

jehan laughed. "making a champagne fountain because liam said he saw it in a movie once. felipe wanted to do the honors of puring it, and nobody wants to argue with the f2 champ, especially when he just found out he's not getting a race seat next year, but logan is."

"shit. i guess the feeder series system just isn't working like it used to."

a chorus of cheers from the kitchen island disrupted further conversation, the warm lights shining down on the last person that y/n wanted to see. god, motorsport was a small world, wasn't it?

liam lawson locked eyes with her from across the apartment, giving her a sad and sympathetic smile. she bit her lip to stop from grimacing, meekly waving back.

nobody else knew what had happened between her and liam, and she preferred to keep it that way.

"y/n!" marcus shouted, throwing his arms in the air and waving her over. "come join us!"

"have a drink." clement encouraged, trying to pass her a glass of champagne.

she shook her head. "give it to your girlfriend, novalak. i'm actually allergic to alcohol."

calan williams narrowed his eyes, skeptically sipping from his own glass. "that sounds fake."

y/n laughed, moving closer to the kitchen island. "its a genetic thing. i can't handle anything more than a cooler or a mixed drink. anything stronger will have me throwing up for hours."

"i think there's some smirnoff ice in the fridge." marcus suggested, pointing towards a large cabinet front. ayumu iwasa opened the cabinet, revealing the fridge behind it.

fucking rich people.

"what the hell, pass me one of the peach smirnoff coolers in the door."

"to felipe!" dennis hauger shouted, hefting his beer into the air, arm full of tattoos on display. "our 2022 champion!"

"and to logan, my old teammate!" liam lawson added, throwing his arm around logan sargeant's neck. liam looked drunkest of all, though it seemed like all of the drivers were a wreck. "williams racing's last hope."

she spent most of the night wandering around marcus' massive house, ducking in and out of conversations. she appreciated that the drivers were trying to help her feel at home, but there was still a small part of her that wanted to flee, to run away and sit at home with her emily henry book or watch a korean psychological thriller.

"so who's actually sticking around next year?" jack doohan asked, slumped across marcus' living room sofa. "aren't they cleaning house in f2?" his buzzcut was growing back in, his shaggy blonde hair fitting his face much better, although the look still seemed odd since the length was at that awkward stage.

"it's dennis, you, ayumu, jehan, enzo, theo, me, amaury, roy, ralph." fred vesti started counting off on his fingers, a drunken slur underneath his words if one listened carefully.

"and i'm not going anywhere any time soon!" ralph boomed. "i'm like fernando fucking alonso, motherfuckers! 2023 is going to be my year, just you wait and see!"

"yeah right! the championship is as much yours as it is clem's!" marcus shouted back with a laugh, an aperol spritz in hand as he messed with the stereo.

"oh, fuck you lot." clement laughed, curled up in an armchair with his girlfriend. "you didn't need to do me like that in front of ines, come on, have some class."

"am i forgetting about anyone?" fred hummed. "i skipped clem, but am i missing anyone else?"

"what about zane? he's coming back, yeah?" amaury suggested.

"dude, it's a miracle that you're coming back." dennis snorted. "i thought you were gone for sure after that speeding ticket fiasco. how long did you lose your license for?"

sitting on the couch in between jack and olli caldwell, she felt suffocated. she drew her arms in on herself, trying to create a bubble of space from the aussie on one side and the briton on the other. her palms felt sweaty, her chest heavy.

"are you okay?" olli asked her softly. "do you want to get out of here? we can go for a walk, take a breather?"

she nodded quickly, her voice soft. "please? i love you all, i really do, but this is a bit much."

"yeah, come on. let's grab your jacket." olli encouraged, taking her by the hand as they both slipped out of marcus' living room.

not that anybody noticed they were gone. or that they had left together.

once they were both outside, y/n felt better. the cool breeze on her face, the twinkling christmas lights that had been lit up glowing in the haze as snow began to fall gently.

"so where are you off to next year if it's not f2?" she asked, fingers still laced with olli's as they walked down the sidewalk.

"endurance, i think. alpine are still sponsoring me as a driver, so laurent has been a hige help in trying to find me something else. it's something different, and i'm looking forward to it. what about you?"

"i have no idea." she answered truthfully, dropping olli's hand. "my internship runs out before the season starts in bahrain. then it will be back to the real world, the world where i'm on my own with my five friends and my roommate. i'm hoping that toto will keep me on next year, but i also realize that he might not have that control. it would be a shame to leave, though. i feel like i've finally found my place in this world."

they stopped walking, y/n leaning against the brickwork exterior of marcus' condo complex. olli stood in front of her, hands in his jeans pockets, his breath turning into mist in the air.

"i'm sure it will all work out. and even if mercedes don't take you on, there are so many other motorsports in europe that you can try. and you'll always have us, y/n. any time you want them, i've got wec tickets for you."

"thanks, olli. really."

they drifted into a silence, somewhat easy, somewhat not. olli's hands came up to press against the wall, his face just milimeters from hers. her heart started pounding, anticipation building in her bones.

is this it? is it really happening? is olli caldwell going to kiss me?

and then he leaned in, his lips pressed against hers.

y/n y/l/n had just had her first kiss.

_____

"so let me get this straight, you finally got your first kiss, a boy actually wanted to go out with you, and you're turning him down?"

"well, when you put it like that!" y/n groaned, face in her hands as she slumped back in her desk chair.

it was the week after marcus armstrong's party, the group sitting in the legal department at the mercedes f1 factory in brackley. she had already told the full story, and her face was pinker than a crush cream soda.

"i just don't understand what your train of thought is here, if i'm being honest." george chuckled. "so caldwell kissed you. what's the big deal?"

"because it was my first kiss, george! i've been thinking it over all weekend, and i felt sick to my stomach when olli texted me the morning after." she groaned, running her hands over her face. "you're going to laugh at me when i tell you why."

"i promise you, we aren't going to laugh, y/n." lewis said gently, placing a hand on her shoulder. "all of what you're feeling is normal."

she sighed. "it didn't feel the way that the books said it was supposed to feel."

"that's your big reasoning? really?" nyck's tinny voice rang through the speaker on mick shumacher's phone. in abu dhabi, the reserve driver had officially been traded to scuderia alphatauri, and by extension, not allowed into brackley to be privy to this conversation. so, naturally, he was facetimed and looped in anyways.

"mick, can you please mute the traitor." y/n groaned, reaching for the german boy's phone before mick laughed and pulled it out of her reach to mute the call himself.

on screen, nyck was still talking.

"i know it sounds stupid, but i've felt sick about it all weekend. what am i supposed to do, guys?"

"i think that your feeling are vaild, first of all." mick began, "and that maybe olli came on too strong."

mick's finger slipped, unmuting the call enough for nyck to shout. "did i not just say that? were you not listening?"

"you have so much time, y/n." lewis said with a small smile. "but i hope you've learned something about yourself from this, yeah? maybe this was the boost of self confidence that you needed?"

she had thought about the kiss all weekend, hoping that she could make it make sense, and that she wasn't overreacting. and it's not like olli had done anything wrong, although french kissing was a little much for the first date, even when it wasn't even a date, and she was trying to convince herself that telling olli she just wanted to be friends was the best call.

and then, digging deeper, she had to ask herself if she was even ready for a relationship. because when the idea was finally breathing down her neck, the idea of olli, and going on a date, and sharing so much of herself with someone else, it scared the shit out of her.

"he put his tongue in my mouth, lewis!" she whined. "god, i sound like a child."

"he what?" a muffled voice called from the other side of her desk, followed up by a thump and frantic whispering.

"what the fuck?" y/n mumbled, getting out of her desk chair and leaning over the glass cubicle wall. "paul?"

with a shit eating grin on his face, paul aron slipped out from underneath the table, kimi antonelli just behind him. while paul didn't look the least bit apologetic, kimi looked like he wanted the floor to swallow him whole.

"i am so sorry, miss. we shouldn't have been listening." the italian boy bowed his head. "but blame paul, it was his idea."

"what, i wanted the office gossip." the estonian boy shrugged. "he french kissed you, and you friendzoned him? that's a little sad."

"paul get out!" y/n snapped. "or i'll call toto and bono!"

the threat of toto wolff was enough to get kimi and paul to dart out of the room faster than the freca cars that they drove. toto didn't know about the kiss, mainly because she knew that he had otmar and laurent on speed dial and would find a way to put the fear of god into oliver caldwell for hurting his intern.

the bond that she had formed with the wolff family wasn't something she would have traded for the world. she found herself calling or texting toto's daughter rosa more often, with the two being of a similar age.

she just hoped that toto liked her enough to keep her around for another season.

"there are plenty of fish in the sea, kiddo." susie wolff added, striding into the office. "and don't worry, i'm not going to tell toto. although, paul and kimi might. take this as a learning experience. and don't take any advice from this lot." she added, whacking george in the back of the head with a file folder.

"why did i feel like that was directed at me?" the man from king's lynn groaned.

"the right boy will come when the time is right. god knows i met toto later in life. and look at us now." susie continued, pulling y/n in for a hug. "come on, we have an investor meeting with monster, and toto wants you there."

"me? he wants me in a meeting with our biggest sponsor?"

lewis laughed. "you need to start giving yourself more credit. you are so loved here, y/n. you have a future in motorsport law, a future here."

mick, lewis and george all exchanged a look, bright smiles on their faces.

"what are you not telling me? is toto keeping me on for next year?"

"we aren't allowed to say anything just yet." george started. "but, i think toto has a soft spot for you."

"put it this way: you'll know before bahrain, and you might want to pack some summer clothes." susie smiled.

Tags:

@magnummagnussen @diorleclerc @daydreamingleclerc @scuderiamh @sidcrosbyspuck @libraryofloveletters

#mercedes amg petronas #lewis hamilton x reader #george russell x reader #mick schumacher x reader #toto wolff #formula 1 x reader #formula one x reader #family are the friends we meet along the way series #olli caldwell x reader #Spotify

[ianthoni]

Ok, Idk if it's just me but I can't stop thinking about the part in Anthony's letter where he asks if Ian even knows the real Ian... like, I think I'm crazy and tinhatty for seeing Ian as visibly repressed, but Anthony literally sees the exact same thing.

My very detailed thoughts are under the gifs and videos. Buckle up that's a long ass post. I put some of the parts i find interesting in the video.

First of I wanna start with comments like "oh i think Ian is emotionless he doesn't show emotions" he literally did. Watch the video. Don't just listen to his words look at his eyes.

No no no you're not alone. The more i watch him the more I'm like damn this man has a lot to unpack. Like you can see he has so many emotions but also is hiding them. At first people were like Ian is so chill, Ian doesn't care and I'm like HE CARES?? You can clearly see he cares, you can see he's affected by everything happening around, happening TO him. He's just so closed up so withdrawn even he himself doesn't know how to react to things. Just like he said he's the most chill-unchill person. He probably has a hurricane in his mind but he doesn't show it outside. I think it's because he was alone for a long time. He was definitely more open when he's with Anthony but after watching the video I think their friendship stopped being close when Anthony started dating his girlfriend at the time. Ofc there was probably some stuff between them they're friends since 6th grade, but the strings broke and they stopped being best friends probably at that time. And probably after this Ian started to press his feelings. Cause I think he tried to talk to Anthony about that person but it backfired so he stopped it all together. At the time he probably didn't have enough close friends and after Anthony left he was just alone in his thoughts. Ofc he had partners he had co workers, friends, employees but at that point he was already in a state where "it's better if i just shut up about my own feelings/emotions/thoughts cause they're wrong they're the reason my best friend leave me" and everything else, the company, the break-ups whatever it was all his problems, he's the boss, he had to take care of everything and he had to protect his friends/company and everything. He should be the one doing it without bothering others. And that's why he's now "chill" he put on an unbothered person mask to stay strong in the game. He built strong walls around his emotions. He hide them so much that he lost his ability to show his emotions in the meantime. He's an amazing listener, problem solver, perfect boss and friend and best friend probably but he's not good to himself. His feelings are pressed, he has a lot to unpack probably. Idk if Anthony and him talk about everything (i don't think tho i don't think ian could just trauma dump) and i feel like he has to. Not just talking about shit happened before like they say in the video, no he has to talk about his feelings, how he feels about what happened, how he feels now, is he hurt, is he heartbroken. Without a filter. Like he had to leave the labels behind and idk have an open conversation with someone(probably a therapist tbh) and realize that showing emotions is not weak or wrong. And he's not alone. Maybe he felt that way before but he has friends, he has a whole family actually. I really don't believe he's an emotionless person he's just so so introverted in his emotions. And he's lost in his insecurities.

First of all you can see he's emotionally unstable already when he said let's keep going because he's either afraid he's gonna show emotions(god forbid he shed a tear) or so emotional to talk about the subject.

"I don't think I would even recognize if I was being put through emotional turmoil. This is just so sad.

"That doesn't mean you weren't being put through it, that just might mean that you're shutting things off" Anthony explained so well in this sentence.

And this part i definitely agree with Anthony. "How do you know if I'm keeping it to myself?" Cause eyes never lie chico! We can see the sadness showing from them. The fake smile thing is like. Ok yeah I don't think he's fake smiling in every smile but i think when he's actually hurt he just smiles at the person hurting him. Even in this video there are so many moments that you can see he's upset he just smiles and moves on. Not wanting to make things worse or trying to keep everything going. Don't wanna mess up again. But you can't live a life like that. You can't just accept everything anyone is giving and not have a breaking point. Idk him so idk if he had that point already or he'd have that in the future but i know if he keeps ignoring everything and trying to push them aside it's burst. (It's not about Anthony leaving this is not about anyone else I'm talking about Ian's feelings)

And the last part yeah I think we know the real Ian. Cause even if he pushes his feelings aside he's who he is. Him hiding his hurt moments is not gonna affect anyone but himself.

Also wanna add I was so so upset when he said he thought Smosh was his and Ian was just a sidekick to him and even then Ian just smiled and kept going. It's so obvious he knows Anthony felt that way at the time. He's not shocked about this. He probably had his moments about that. I'm so glad Anthony realized that Smosh is not this and that Smosh is them together. And praise him every chance he has for that.

Lastly. I was really sad when Ian said "I forgive you" and Anthony laughed with "for what?" I think this was the only moment we actually see Ian trying to show his emotions and Anthony's joke makes it go away immediately and Ian smiled and hid his emotions again with "just kidding". Again this is all me just putting my thoughts out there but I think Ian deserved an apology or at least a thank you(which Anthony probably did them in private i think) cause he fought to keep Smosh together for years alone. So there was something Anthony could ask forgiveness for. Yes it was the best decision for Anthony and his mental health and it definitely helped him. And Ian could have left with him but didn't. But if he didn't try to stay and fight there wouldn't be a Smosh to turn back to. Wow that was dark.

Anyways this is me overthinking for something I shouldn't at fuckin 2am and I swear I have a life outside this. I just love analysing shit and talking about it ok?

#smosh #ian hecox #asks and answers #this is by no means me going thats exactly what happened its the truth or anything this is just me analysing shit i saw #take this with grain of salt #☀️🔍 #in a way #cause thats the longest slow burn to history ever probably lmao #allegedly #i literally just write words im not their friends idk them #this is not me being parasocial #overanalyzing #very over LMAO #i should stop overthinking

[artemistalkstoomuch]

All of My Opinions on the Mean Girls Musical Movie

Firstly, loved all the original film references. Of course the obvious ones like having the same lines, the thing about fetch being slang from an old movie, but also!!

. Janis' suit being purple for spring fling!! and omg let's not even talk about how pretty Aul'il Cravalho was throughout the entire film. Her eye make-up was so impressive

. that part in Sexy where they're cycling through potential outfits and one of them is the white shirt with the purple bra holes cut out !!

Slightly upset about the fact they cut out Meet the Plastics and it ended up being more like, Meet Regina, but I get that. On the topic of songs, I understand a lot of them were cut out because they were "too theatrical" but I can still miss em!! Truthfully when I heard the new Stupid With Love I was devastated because it's one of my favourite songs and they fucking tiktokified it, but I actually think it works really well in the film- it gets the "cringy first proper love" aspect across, which is its purpose, so I'm happy.

THEY GOT RID OF "WHO HERE HAS EVER FELT PERSONALLY VICTIMISED BY REGINA GEORGE" which was absolutely criminal

AND THE PRINCIPAL AND MS NORBURY ARE TOGETHER which was actually adorable, and I didn't think about the fact that could be something that happened, but I'm very happy it did.

The bus at the end of Rather Be Me was such a jumpscare but also so funny. THEY MISSED OUT THE DIALOGUE TO DO IT THOUGH SADD. Plus she was so goofy that entire song?? Why was she running in and out of all of those random rooms.

The rumours spreading via phones looked half cool, but it's dated the film imo, which is what Tina Fey originally set out to avoid! Like "fetch" was made up slang so in years to come the film wouldn't seem cringy for having slang teens actually used to use at the time.

Big drum-roll: We did not see enough of Regina's meanness to actually justify her being a mean girl. A lot of it got filtered out through songs, and the majority of stuff was just her, like, responding badly to sexism?? Also tell me how I'm gonna villanise Renee Rapp she fucking SLAYED what a queen.

Also WHERE IS COACH CARR'S SEXUAL ASSAULT. THAT'S THE WHOLE REASON MS NORBURY GETS ARRESTED!!?? That, to me, is one of the biggest indicators in the original film of just how powerful the "Mean Girls" are, they know about this, and the other teachers don't. Not only that, but it highlights just how immature they are, because they don't do anything about it. They're girls who run the school, without having any sympathy or context to do something about bad stuff they know happens. It's just "a funny thing to write". Not having that made me sad tbh.

Changing the line to "you wrote this" in World Burn was clever but I wish we got to see more of the girls turning on each other, rather than direct fighting.

KEVIN G BEST SONG IN THE MUSICAL

Where was the 4 way phone call, DEVASTATING. We literally did not see the plastics actually interact with each other. There was no meanness, no impact, all we got were the "events" when OTHER THINGS HAPPEN. You could say it lost a lot of filler, but the filler was actually context! And part of what makes the film so good!

Devastated she doesn't say "damn you're mine" in Someone Gets Hurt. I do think it's hilarious they just didn't make the actor guy for Aaron sing at all lol

"That filter you use looks just like me" WHY. I appreciate the change from the line about weight but like, this DOES NOT MAKE SENSE. at least say "that filter you use has nothing on me" THE WHOLE POINT IS SHE'S ABOVE IT

I didn't like the extended version of Revenge Party, sorry, too used to the old version

And I did not like the girlbossification of Sexy. I get it's supposed to be powerful like "watch me as I run the world in shoes I cannot walk in" but I feel like the whole point of "I expect to run the world in shoes I cannot walk in" is supposed to point out the irony, like, being slightly critical of "modern feminism". I will say though that the wobble from avantika as she says that is superb.

Overall I thought the film was enjoyable and a nice blend of the original film and the musical, but I think both ended up losing individual meaning because of how much they intersect. You don't have time to appreciate the lyrics and power of the musical because you don't hear them all, and some of them get cut, and you can't follow the plot in a meaningful way because the songs are happening, and they skip a lot of context to fit them in.

Would totally watch it again though, if only to see Renee Rapp say "get in loser" cos she actually nailed that

#mean girls #mean girls musical #regina george #renee rapp #angourie rice #auli'i cravalho #tina fey #bebe wood #avantika #mean girls 2024 #musicals #long post

[transmutationisms]

I'm curious if you've come across any examples of what you would consider effective communication or collective organizing around Covid? I know of a few groups who I think are doing good work to get people access to masks and rapid tests, making connections to broader issues such as lack of sick leave, barriers to healthcare etc, but they're also relying on things like questionable wastewater data extrapolation to make their points. I don't really know what to do about the latter issue, since we've just had access to all data taken away from us by the government. (I know it's not an effective tool for collective action, but tbh I also struggle with the idea that all alarmism is bad, because I am high risk and I am scared!)

well 1st of all to be clear, i think wastewater data are valuable and i do look at them. what i don't do is make wildly overconfident guesses from those data about exactly how many people are infected, how many sick people are standing in any given room, how many people will eventually qualify for a long covid dx, etc. i think wastewater data are a rough proxy but still an important one, and generally more useful at the local level (where they can be cross-referenced with factors like vaccine uptake, circulating variants, and municipal public health policy) than at national or regional levels (where the necessary amount of aggregation makes it difficult to tease out much useful information about any one town or city).

2nd, i don't know what country you live in but i do look in on CDC's covid dashboard, which includes data on hospitalisations, emergency department visits, deaths, vaccine uptake, test positivity rates, &c. if this is applicable to you i strongly encourage always reading the footnotes as these statistics vary in accuracy (in particular, test positivity rate is very unreliable at this point). i consider a lot of these numbers useful primarily as indicators of comparative risk: eg, i assume hospitalisation numbers have been inaccurate lowballs for the entirety of the pandemic; however, it is still useful imo to see whether that number is trending in a particular direction, and how it compares over time. again, local results are sometimes more helpful as well. i also glance in on the census bureau's household pulse survey results, which come out numerous times throughout the year and include questions about duration of covid symptoms, ability to function, and vaccine uptake. these numbers skew in the opposite direction to many of CDC's, because the phrasing of the covid questions is intended to be broad, and does not attempt to distinguish between the sort of long covid that entails a 6 or 12 month recovery period, vs the sort of long covid that turns out to be me/cfs or other chronic long-term post-viral complications. again, i still think these numbers are useful for viewing trends over time; no data will ever be completely 100% without flaw, and i'm not holding out for that. what does frustrate me, though, is people (with any and all ideological axes to grind!) interpreting any of these numbers as though they are in fact perfect flawless representations of reality, with no further caveats or critical analysis needed. that's what i'm pushing back on, whether it comes from the "pulse survey says long covid prevalence is decreasing, so fuck it!" crowd or the "biobot says last week was a micro-surge so we're all going to die!" crowd.

as far as local orgs or groups doing actual action, like distributing masks or vaccine clinics, i don't put so much stock in what they say on instagram or whatever because frankly i think it matters very little. the masks and vaccines and air filters and so forth are useful in themselves; that work is valuable. if someone's positioning themselves primarily as a communicator then yes, i'm going to scrutinise their communication methods more. if it's an action org i'm honestly less concerned, unless there is egregiously unreliable information being propagated or they're communicating in the sort of stigmatising manner that many peak Posters have adopted (people who got sick are stupid / immoral / deserve it, etc).

i'd also just like to make it clear that like... i live with someone who is at high risk, i accordingly treat my own covid precautions as though i am also at high risk, and i wouldn't want covid regardless... like, please understand that when i talk about this i'm not coming at it from a perspective of someone who's unaware of the need for caution! my concern is, again, that caution and risk discussion are not synonymous with "making frightened guesses and asserting them with 100% confidence" or "selectively attributing truth to data because they agree with me, regardless of the actual methodology and any problems therein". i understand that when people are behaving recklessly and being encouraged to do so by state and medical authorities, it is tempting to look at that situation and think that communicating the seriousness of the virus is worth risking a little bit of inaccuracy if it protects people. however, i do not think that strategy actually pays off in the long or short term as far as changing people's behaviour (if it did, wouldn't it have by now?) and i think it is playing with fire to encourage this manner of interpreting and disseminating scientific information as though it is a kind of ideological buffet requiring no further verification or investigation beyond a cherry-picked deference to the stated objectivity and ideals of The Scientific Method.

#covid

[youandtom2]

As Wicked As Sin (demon!Tom x nun!reader) 18+

Summary: You have spent your whole life devoting yourself to your faith and God. But it only takes one, sinful night to devote yourself to the devil. Themes: smut, like major major smut, sex in a church with a demon with a breeding kink, what else do you need to know , death, religious PTSD T/W: this is sacrilege, so if you don't like the idea of the devil offending God or Catholicism then this isn't for you. w/c: 8.3k a/n: hi, just me, your friendly horny whore here to say that i spent a lot of time on this and i am very tired. tbh I'll probs edit this again at another point. Please enjoy. Also I am not religious in the slightest but I researched as best as I could so plz don't come for me if I got anything wrong. Again, it's fiction. here for a good time not a long time :D

MASTERLIST

The church bell echoes through the hollows of the building, marking the eleventh hour as you push open the solid, wooden doors with all your might. Behind you, your tunic and your veil drags across the tiled floor, sweeping up the dust of the archaic building while you make your way into the main hall, watched over by the numerous holy statues and shrines. By habit, you look up, letting the architecture emanate its holiness and take your breath away by its sheer size. No matter how many times you enter this church, it never fails to take your breath away. 

“En el Nombre del Padre, y del Hijo, y del Espíritu Santo. Amen.” 

The day is like any other. Temporary living in a monastic community, your duty to your institute and to the Abbess comprises prayer, spiritual learning and devoting yourself to better understanding your divine vocation. You’re half way through your novitiate, and with six months to go before you are called to take your vows, you still have a lot to learn. The eleventh hour is a time for self-reflection; taking the initiative to find your soul and connect it to God without the supervision of your superiors.

Spiritually, your heart finds guidance in the Virgin Mary and your feet carry you up towards the shrine calmly, composed. The closer you get, the sooner you realise that another Sister has already taken prayer in front of her. No matter. You cannot begrudge another for taking the time to pray. Her body lies low to the ground and you can’t figure out who it is, and you don’t want to bother her, but she doesn’t seem to be conducting herself in a proper, respectful way. She’s on her knees but slumped forward, her hidden face grinding into the tiled floor and her limbs are somewhat sprawled. Something’s amiss here.

“Sister?” Her body lacks a response so you rest a cautious hand on her shoulder. “Sister, are you alright?” The second your hand touches her, her body rolls to the floor like a ragdoll, quickly revealing her face. You take one look at her before you let out an ear-piercing scream and the sound carries further than the church bell could. It’s Sister Magda. But instead of the kindly face you see near enough every day, the deathly stare of her blood-ridden eyes holds you captive. Something sinister has consumed her and her washed-out skin is stained with dark crimson blood, crying from her eyes, leaking from her nose and flowing into a river on her cowl. She’s dead, and although a terrifying sight to behold, it isn’t what scares you the most. This is surely the sadistic work of an evil force, a subject you know very little of. 

“Help! Anyone help!” You scream, your voice already wearing thin. “Please! Anyone!” 

A black cloud of nuns come hovering into the hall filtering their way through the pews, their eyes widening at the horror before them. Your superior, Sister Maria is the first to reach you and you’re already desperately pleading your case before she has the chance to investigate. The others flock around Sister Magda, whispering quiet appeals to the Lord and signing the cross over their own chests.

“I don’t know what happened! I swear, I just found her like this! She…she’s dead, Sister, I…I--”

“Breathe, child, breathe. It’s alright.” 

As you cling onto the shoulder of Sister Maria, there seems to be a silent conversation shared amongst the other Sisters, one you’re oblivious to. Their silence over such a tragedy has your heart stopping dead in your chest and it leaves you questioning why they aren’t in such a state of mourning like you are. 

The loss of Sister Madga is a hurtful one, being one of the very few Sisters that you sought comfort in when times became hard. She understood you more than anyone, coming from a strict religious family like yourself whose father used to scare her with the threat of demons and how your sins would feed them, and like with any stray animal, they would always come back for more. You were so frightened of doing anything that your father, or God, didn’t permit. The fear of demons became more of a motivator in your monastic journey than your own faith in God, and it was Sister Magda that empathised with you and guided your purpose towards the brighter light. 

Now that you suspect an evil force has claimed Sister Magda, you feel like your world has come crumbling down around you.

“Oh Lord in Heaven have mercy on us. It’s happening. Sister Maria, we have to get her out of here.” Her? You turn towards them and they’re staring at you. Oh God. They mean you.

“What’s happening?!” You cry, but no one gives you the straight answer you’re looking for.

Before anyone is allowed the chance to speak, an inexplicable rumble of rock and concrete thunders around the room, subjecting the church to a small earthquake and you blindly reach out for safety and stability. 

“It’s too late. The prophecy has already begun, she’s part of it now.”

“But she’s only a novice!” They beseech, seemingly on your behalf. You have no idea what they’re talking about. Prophecy? What prophecy? Part of what? Why is no one telling you what’s going on? 

“This demon works in the cruellest of ways. He waits for no one. We have no option, Sisters. Quickly, we must pray.” Your stomach churns as Sister Maria confirms your hypothesis with that one singular word. Demon. The bile rising in your throat stings and burns off any waiting words. With just one word, a childhood of trauma floods your mind, images of your father berating you as you confess your sins and you can’t blink them away knowing that he warned you of this. Somehow, he knew this was going to happen. Were you not good enough? Had you not vowed enough of yourself to God? Did you not spend enough time in church?

The Virgin Mary statue before you topples precariously from side to side, losing its balance as a crack snakes its way up the middle, moving of its own volition in whatever direction it pleases until, just seconds later, the pristine image of her holiness shatters to the ground. Sister Maria does her best to catch you as you slump against her, numb with the terror that paints your skin a horribly pale colour. Whatever’s coming, whoever’s coming, there isn’t anything from your six months of novitiate that can protect you from the dreaded evil force. 

Leaving Sister Magda’s body in her final resting place, the Sisters quickly scamper, coordinating themselves throughout the space of the church with faces painting no other emotion than the terror that riddles your own. Promptly, they settle themselves onto their knees, clasp their hands together and bow their heads. You see their lips moving, and although you can’t hear what they’re saying, you recognise the shape of the words of prayer as they quietly whisper to themselves with God as their witness. 

“Sister Maria, please! What’s going on?” Frustratingly, she ignores your question and grabs hold of your forearms, a desperation in her tight grip. The rumble grows in intensity, the shards of the Virgin Mary rattling at your feet. 

“You have to listen to me. No matter what happens, it is imperative you keep your eyes closed and whatever you do, do not stop praying. May God have mercy on your soul.” 

Sister Maria escapes your clutches to find a space of her own, following her own orders and all too soon, she’s praying with the same desperation. Quivering, you can’t find the power in your own body to move. Wrecked by panting breaths, you weakly turn, prop yourself up onto your knees, clasp your shaky hands together, and close your eyes with Sister Magda’s bloodied corpse being the last thing you see. When your mind clears just a little, the well-rehearsed words of prayer whisper from your lips. 

“Our Father, who art in heaven, hallowed be thy name; Thy kingdom come, thy will be done; on earth as it is in heaven…”

When the cacophony reaches its loudest, a white burst of light emits within the church, bright enough to burn through your lids, and although you can’t fathom its source, you know you can’t let it distract you from praying. You can’t open your eyes. You won’t open your eyes. You don’t want to face the same fate Sister Magda did. You’re not ready to face your fears. 

Your confidence in faith is restored when the light begins to dim and the rumble reduces to a tremor. The sound of falling dust and cracking stone descends into silence until all that is left is the small, wavering whispers of the Lord's prayer. You think it’s over, you think you’ve won. The power of eight devout nuns sanctifying themselves in a holy place of worship appears to be working against this demon. But like Sister Maria warned, you cannot stop praying, no matter what happens. 

But then you feel it; a small breeze, blowing straight through your tunic to pierce your body like ice to the skin. On a hot summer’s day, a breeze as cold as this should be impossible, it’s almost arctic. As it whirls around the church, it carries a whistle, low and hollow. 

“Our Father, who art in h-heaven…” Shivers shake you as you repeat the Lord’s prayer for the second time. “Hallowed be thy name--”

“‘Thy kingdom come, thy will be done; on earth as it is in heaven’. I love that you think a few meaningless words can keep me away.” 

Two voices dance in a choreograph around the church. One has all the characteristics of a human’s; deep, smooth and carries the tone of a man, but the other that’s laced to it is darker, raspier, clipped and off-kilter, almost incomprehensible to the human ear. Two very different voices, but only one mind. One of a demon’s. 

The sudden presence of the demon’s voice silences yours, rendered completely frozen that something, or someone, has materialised directly in front of you. You can’t even begin to imagine what form he presents himself in. Your father claimed that demons take many forms, each of a different purpose; to scare, to lure, to trick, to hide, and what makes them so dangerous is that it’s impossible to tell their motive. You’ve seen and heard of so many different depictions of demons, all inconsistent to one another so there’s no telling that what stands in front of you now, has ever been seen before. And you won’t ever know. All hope is not lost if you just keep your eyes closed and don’t stop praying. 

“...And lead us not into temptation, But deliver us from evil.” 

The sound of his sweeping tread descends down the steps of what used to be the Virgin Mary shrine and your hands clasp tighter. He’s getting closer and closer…

“My sweet Sisters, nothing can stop temptation. I, Tom, elder of the House of Holland, am temptation, I am evil, I cannot be stopped. The prophecy forbids it.” 

Whatever tactic you used to block out his voice before fails you the more he continues to speak. It easily drowns out your own, hushing out the prayer and fills it with his unholy words, as if he’s speaking from the depths of your mind and you’re forced to stop and listen. It’s tuneful, fluid, rolling like a wave and it drags you along in its tide before inevitably drowning in it.

It’s then you realise the true purpose for continual prayer, it’s not permission for God’s protection, it’s to block him out.

“Our…our Father, who a-art in heaven--” 

“Mmmm, fresh meat.” The demon’s voices, both human and demonic, rumble closely to your ear. “I bet you’ve never seen a demon before. Don’t you want to see? Don’t you want to give into temptation and open your eyes?”

“Don’t do it!” Sister Maria cries out, hysterical as she knows how little prepared you are for the danger you face. 

“You’re not real,” you whisper, in denial. “Our Father, who art in--” A warm, firm hand curls around your shoulder, your prayer interrupted by a whimper of fear. The touch to your shoulder spreads warmth around your body, subjected to a feverish sweat and a small droplet rolls down your back. Your failed attempt of prayer doesn’t reach further than the second verse when he speaks again.

“I’m very real. Open your eyes and see.” 

“No!” You’re sobbing now and praying has long gone from your priorities. All that remains is the memories of your father yelling at you to repent your sins, ordering you to confess to keep the demons away while you cry uncontrollably, much like the way you are now. “Father, I’m so sorry.”

“Ahh, I see it now. Daddy always warned you about me, didn’t he? I bet he told you that I could eat your soul unless you cleanse yourself of your sins. He had you confessing and repenting day in and day out until you were spilling your deepest darkest secrets. But what for?”

He saunters behind you, dragging a finger from your shoulder, over the nape of your neck until it finds rest on the other side. 

”I could still eat your soul should I choose to, but I’m not here to hurt you, little nun. In fact, I’m here to do the exact opposite…” 

“W-What?”

“Don’t listen to him! He’s trying to trick you! Pray, Sister, pray!” 

Blackness consumes your sight and mind; your own conscience falls silent and the words of prayer that have been ingrained in you since you were a child slowly fade. But how? You knew it like the back of your hand. You could recite it in three other languages; knowledge that was passed down from your father to safeguard you from hell, but now that you kneel in the presence of this demon, something that was part of your everyday routine has just slipped your mind. 

You feel the light traces of a finger tip tilting your chin upwards and his shadow lines your lids, giving you only a slight indication of where he stands in the room. His coercion is like an ear-worm, crawling its way into your head and infecting it with not only his own voice, but others too. ‘Open your eyes.’ It’s Sister Maria’s voice, tender and caring. ‘Open your eyes.’ Suddenly it’s Sister Magda, gone but never forgotten. Her words were always a comfort to you. ‘Open your eyes.’ An older voice reaches you. It’s your mother, speaking from beyond the grave and you almost crumble. ‘Open your eyes.’ Your younger sister, the only one rebellious enough to reject your father’s method of parenting and she became an outcast because of it. You wish you were more like her. ‘Open your eyes.’ No. Anyone but him. The strict, authoritarian voice of your father digs deeper than the ones before him and hearing his demands condition you into obeying. 

​​ ̴̯̻̙̂͆͌̐͘O̶̧̫̣͕͋͐̾͘P̴͓̭̺͎͒̊͆̀E̵̙͔̺͔̅͆͠N̶̨̢̺̿ ̴̤̾͆͋̚Y̶̡̢̫̰̑͘̕͜͝O̶̡͍̰͇̹͑U̸̡̗̗̺͋͐̽̽Ȓ̸̤̥̇ ̵̧̼̠͐̓̆͠E̷̥͒͒̃Y̸̛͚̰̎͜ͅË̴̖͉̥̖͙Ś̵̠͇̗̄̈̚̕

Light floods in as you blink your eyes open, caving in to temptation. Standing before you with his finger still curled under your chin is the demon, but he’s not at all what you expected to see. Of all the demon recreations you’ve seen in your lifetime, none of them hold a spot of resemblance to what is actually standing in front of you. Where you expected to see red, slimy scales is actually a golden wash of warm skin adorning a human body, bare from the waist upwards. Hugging his waist are straight, creaseless black trousers. The long, draping material hangs from his hips, elongating his height as they hide his bare feet scuffing across the floor. 

Every breath he takes accentuates his lean and chiselled body and it’s mesmerising watching how his muscles tense under his skin. You should really divert your stare, succumbing to indecency was an act of immorality according to your father. Abstinence was the one true way of devoting your body and soul to God but this demon makes abstinence seem unreasonable, especially when he exhibits himself like this. It would be a complete waste.

Breaking, your virgin eyes lift higher to see dark, chocolate eyes staring back at you, creasing with the widening smirk that reveals his pearly white teeth, lacking the fangs you expected to see. A soft bed of curls hangs candidly over his eyes, brown and shiny. You have to admit that, for a demon, he’s visually stunning as the sun paints him in an ethereal light, and if you were none the wiser, you would think he is a holy entity, come to bask in the glory of his worshippers. 

The irony of it all has you questioning everything your father has told you about demons. They aren’t scaly creatures with horns and a pointed tail. They don’t spit fire with every word. They aren’t rabidly trying to consume your soul. The fact that he isn’t doing any of those things triggers your curiosity. He’s so alluring that sacrilegious thoughts flood your mind, the kind that would have your father rolling in his grave, the kind that would make him tell you that God, Jesus and the Holy Spirit were to be the only source of satisfaction in your life, and nothing else. That included you too.

“There you are,” he speaks seductively. “What a precious little thing you are--”

“Stay back, you evil demon!” Sister Maria yells, a slight grumble to her throat. The demon pans his attention over to your superior who’s coming to a stand with a wooden cross clenched tightly in her fist. Unlike you, her eyes remain closed. 

“Now now, Sister Maria. Don’t be so bitter. Not everyone gets chosen.” 

“Chosen? Chosen for what? Sister Maria--”

The demon’s satirical laughter echoes around the church, bouncing off every stained-glass window and concrete wall. “Oh, she doesn’t know? Sister Maria, shame on you for calling me evil, but I think you are the real evil here,” he mocks. 

You swivel yourself around to face Sister Maria, her bottom lip quivering. You’ve never seen her so helpless before. She was always the face of bravery in the community, always sharing her wisdom to guide the lost. They say the eyes are the window to the soul, but even with her eyes closed, guilt isn’t a good look on her. 

While you keep your stare on Sister Maria’s crumbling bravery, the demon behind you crouches to rest his hands on your shoulders, his lips hanging low next to your ear. A scent so delicious seeps into your nose, it almost has your eyes rolling. “You see, little nun, for life to exist there must be balance. Good and Evil, life and death, Heaven and Hell. And your God didn’t like being equal. Not one bit. Especially to someone like me. But despite how much he hated it, I realised that even two worlds apart, he and I are actually quite alike. Both a sucker for gluttony and power, only he was willing to threaten the balance of life and began taking what was rightfully mine, stealing my souls, converting them and building his power and I thought that was rather selfish of him. It was only fair I did it back and so the cycle continued for centuries until the balance of life hung by a single thread. So we vowed to a treaty: every one hundred years, He condemns a life of his own to hell…” He turns your head towards Sister Magda, blood beginning to dry. She was too kind to deserve hell. Calmly, he reaches out a hand towards her and like the snow under the sun, her body fades away and her soul is claimed. 

Blackness fills his sclera when he turns back to you, cavernous and haunting.

“But in return, I must give a life back.”

“You can resurrect the dead?” You ask.

“I could but where’s the fun in that? No, no, little nun, I give back life in a very different way, one that your idiot God never anticipated.” His arm comes to encircle around your hips, pressing a flat palm across the expanse of your stomach and you feel a spark of adrenaline. ‘Give a life’, he said. The gears wind and the cogs turn until it comes to you.

Give a life. Not to the dead, but to the unborn. He means to impregnate.

His eyes fade into an autumn brown. “Rather prescient, don’t you think? How you and little Annie Madga’s life bear such a resemblance to each other, as if everyone knew what was going to happen to you, how your lives were shaped around God as if that would protect you from me.” The revelation stops you breathing. All this time, you were pinned from birth, both you and Sister Magda, raised by strict but protective fathers, forcing you into a monastery in the hopes that the prophecy wouldn’t come true, and it is the reason you connected so well with each other. You were lambs for slaughter. “But it is written. A vow from the divine cannot be broken. So it will be done.” 

“Sister Maria…” you plead, searching for answers from her like you’ve done before. “Please tell me it isn’t true.” 

She doesn’t respond right away and that alone gives you your answer. Nothing more needs to be said, but alas the words you dread slip from her lips. “I’m sorry. It’s what the Lord above wants!” 

“She gave you up.” A gentle, masculine voice funnels into your ear. It’s his, but it’s so…enchanting. “She just wanted to save her own skin. She doesn’t care what happens to you. It only matters if she gets to live another day.” 

“You gave me up,” you echo back to her. “You gave me up and you gave Sister Magda up too and now she’s dead. You knew this was going to happen and you never told us!”

“W-We didn’t want you to be in fear, dear child, we just wanted you to find hope and love through God. He will protect you!” 

“Such deception. God won’t protect you. He sacrificed you and Annie Magda to me. Your life is in my hands now. Give yourself in to me.” He sounds so convincing, lulling you into a sense of security and you can’t find it in you to doubt him. 

“I’ve given up most of my life, my freedom to God, and what has He done for me? Sacrificed me? Was I not good enough for Him?” 

“Don’t listen to him, Sister. Remember the Lord’s prayer, keep that close to you.”

“He can’t look after you anymore, but I can. I can give you everything you want. Give in to me.” Your veil is stolen from you, revealing your hair. You pay no mind to his wandering hands as you keep your gaze on Sister Maria, the sight of her bringing about an unprecedented anger that boils in your chest. You’ve never felt anger like this before, never had such a fiery resolve disease you so quickly and it doesn’t feel like you. But right now, you’d do anything to spite Sister Maria.

You should be shaking in fear of the demon roaming his hands all over you, shedding you of your religious habit piece by piece, burying his nose deep into your hair, your neck, whispering and serenading you with his presence, but you aren’t. It’s the only comfort you feel in your fit of fury. The bounds of your religion begin to break. 

He’s shown you nothing but soothing hands, and it’s those same captivating hands that turn you towards him and by the time your eyes meet, you're under his spell. A foggy haze blinds you of rational thinking, leaving you with no fear about sinning and condemning your belief, and giving into him suddenly seems like a paradise.

Sister Maria tries one last time to get through to you. “Sister--” 

 G̵̠̎̉I̸̢̱͈̼͖̓͛V̴̤̘̳̼̰͗E̴̻͙͛̔̅̇ ̵̧͍͕̀I̸̛͔̺̒̇̄N̵̩̐͝ ̷̘̯͔͙̆͊̉̀̅T̴̫͈̺̩͐͆O̵͖̥̜̝̊́͘ ̸̲̫̉͑͠M̶̧̬̘̀͊̕Ȩ̵̲̳̈̊̾̕ 

But it’s too late. Your fate has already been laid out for you.

“I…give in.” 

“To who, little nun. Say my name.”

“To you, Tom, elder of the House of Holland.”

“Good girl,” he whispers darkly. “This is going to be so much fun.” He moves to cradle your head, warm hands supporting the weight of your jaw and with a fleeting glance to your lips, he kisses you. You’ve never kissed anyone before so the moment his lips touch yours, the outside world is forgotten. Instantly, you forget you’re in a holy place. You forget about everything that’s pure and whole, throwing away your divine vocation and abandoning everything you’ve learned over the last six months. It’s sacrilege to its highest degree; martyring yourself to this demon in front of an army of nuns and many variations of Christ’s likeness painted onto the ceilings and windows. 

Betrayal never felt so good.

The kiss deepens, his tongue breaching past your lips with ease and you willingly open up to him. Promiscuity runs ragged in your head, sending signals to your body that refuse to be ignored and this demon seems to hear them just as well as you do. 

“Will you give yourself to me?” 

You shouldn’t, but your lips rashly speak before you stop them. “I will.” 

“Will you pledge your heart, body and soul to me?”

“I will.”

A hand rests on your stomach again. “Will you serve me and bear what is mine?”

“No! Sister, you’re making a grave mistake!”

E̶̡͝N̷̝͙̋O̷̲̞̊U̷͑ͅG̵̺̹̅̾H̶̜̀ͅ!̴̯̥̚ 

The demon waves a hand and you watch with wide eyes as Sister Maria’s body flies through the air, colliding with the large pillar by the main door and immediately knocking her unconscious. The other Sisters scatter, running before they too become a victim of the demon’s wrath. A gasp escapes you and in a moment of clarity, you feel the urge to go and run to her, but the demon’s hold on you is too tight to let you go. 

“Leave her,” he coos, sweeping away your hair and kissing your neck. Soft, pillowy lips roam your neck and the second your eyes close, Sister’s Maria’s unconscious body slips your mind and you’re back under his spell. “She’s only ever lied to you, I’ve been the one to show you the truth, so tell me, little nun. Will you serve me and bear what is mine?” 

“I…I will.” 

The demon, Tom, slithers away from you, walking back towards the lectern that stands in front of the crucifixion of Jesus above the altar. He leans against it, his abs tensing and his mouth smiling. The sight is delicious and it’s begging you to fall into temptation yet again. 

“Come to me,” he demands with the curl of his fingers. Without a second thought, you begin crawling towards him in what remains of your undergarments, stopping just at the base of the lectern. He admires the look in your eyes, gazing up at him as if he is the only light in your life and how you convey an innocence that says you’re willing to do anything for him. 

“Have you ever had cravings? Desires?”

“I’ve…I’ve always wondered what alcohol tastes like.”

He laughs heartily, holding his stomach and tilting his head back. Heat floods your cheeks. “Do they teach you to be this naive? No, little nun, I don’t mean like that. I mean…” His hand cups your cheek gently, staring straight into your soul. “Have you ever had dirty thoughts, thoughts so filthy that you just can’t help but slip your fingers into your tight, little cunt and fuck yourself until your screaming.”

Every crude, vulgar word is like a hit to your chastity. Normally you would wince at their sound but in his voice, they’re words of a poem. What is he doing to you? 

You answer honestly, truthfully. “I’ve…I haven’t done anything like that. It--It was forbidden.” 

“What is it with you prudes that always forbid fun things?” A revelation glosses over his eyes, his mouth widens. “You’re a virgin, aren’t you? You’ve never had anyone fuck you before…and yet here you are consenting to be defiled by me, to take my seed and bear the offspring of a demon. My, my, you must be a curious, wanting thing.” 

“I…I…” Why can’t you say no? Why do you not want to?

“Well let’s not waste any more time. Here’s how this is going to go, little nun, since you are a follower of rules. You do everything I say. You forget about what the church and Daddy has taught you because when we’re done, his skin will crawl when he won’t be able to recognise his daughter when she’s all whored out and dumb for my cock. I’ll do whatever I want to you and I’m not going to stop until you are full and round with my seed. And I get to do it with God and Jesus as witnesses and I can’t fucking wait.” 

Your chest is heaving, glistening with sweat as lust consumes you. It’s exhilarating and you decide that you’re ready, so with an aching whimper and a determined nod, you hand yourself over to him.

“Strip.” 

You’re already peeling off your undergarments before you come to a full stand, clumsily ripping the material at the seams as you drag it from your body. The alien sensation of having cold air swirl around your naked form takes your breath away. Tom grins wickedly at the sight; unblemished skin waiting to be marked and branded by him. But he spots it, the small, dainty cross chained around your neck, the one your mother gave you, and his expression drops like an anchor, changing to something far more sinister. Within a blink of an eye, he snatches it and the chain breaks, the small cross burning in a contained fire in the palm of his hand. 

He cocks a brow. “You won’t need that anymore. You’re on the side of the devil now. Now strip me.” 

The old, royal blue carpet burns your knees while you obey his command, and within seconds you set sight on him, and fuck, you’ve never seen a more unholy sight. Smug and borderline arrogant, the demon watches for your reaction while you unveil his cock, girthy and bobbing under its weight. It lies within inches of your face, and he asks you of the unfathomable. 

“Open your mouth and stick out your tongue,” he commands, his voice becoming deep and throaty. Unceremoniously, he spits into your mouth and it almost sears your tongue but you refrain from moving. Grappling onto the underside of your chin, he coaxes you towards his cock and slides it into your mouth until the tip reaches the back of your throat where you fall into a fit of gurgles and involuntary gagging.

You don’t miss the little reminder from your subconscious that you haven’t done this before, and instead of fretting over it, you disregard it immediately as lust takes over, guiding your movements. Taking what you can of him in your mouth, your hand pleases the rest, sensually driving your hand over his length while your mouth sucks on his head. 

“Aw, are you struggling?” He speaks within your head again, as if he heard your subconscious talking to you. For all you know, it’s likely that he did. “I can help with that.” 

Two firm hands claw their fingers through your roots, nails digging deep into your scalp in an ardent massage and the smallest of whimpers bubbles through. You lose control of your movements as the coveted demon above you arduously fucks your mouth. After only a minute, you’re most likely bruised, scratched and burned but it’s all a pain that you eventually learn to brave. A minute later, it’s a pain you learn to love. 

Drool dribbles down your chin and drips onto the carpet. “Oh making a mess in God’s house, eh? How sinful of you. Let’s make more.” 

Your hands lay flat upon his thighs, pushing away while he pulls you in and smothers every chance of you being able to breathe. He bobs your mouth so vigorously up and down his cock that you’re almost sick with vertigo and the feeling of being repeatedly gagged. But of course, he laughs wickedly at your expense and the sound of his rhythmic chuckle buzzes around you before it morphs into something more salacious. Groaning and moaning, you can just hear the undertones of the darker voice rumbling louder until it descends into something primal. The vibrations run like liquid gold through your veins and you yearn for more of the feeling. 

“Shit, that mouth. Stick out your tongue for me.” Tom grabs ahold of his cock and balances it on the tip of the muscle, feeling every intricate twitch of it. He merely uses you as a toy, thrusting himself so that your tongue tastes every inch of him, right until your lips suckle on the base of his cock. 

This is insidiously profane. One glance to your left you see Christ’s eyes staring down at you from the stained-glass window and just for a second, you begin hating yourself. You swear you can feel the judgement radiating from those motionless eyes, and what you previously thought was a look of hope is now a look of censure. How could you have given in so easily? 

Tom can sense your regret and takes matters into his own hands. He calls your name, how he knows it - you’re not sure, but it immediately grabs your attention. “Eyes up here.” His cock slips abruptly back into your mouth again but this time, he’s more in control of himself and it allows you to taste more. There’s a bitter-sweet saltiness to him. “Remember who it is you’re on your knees for. It’s not him - wider - he’s on the side of the selfish God that never cared about you - fuck - the same God that killed Annie Magda, that gave you up to me. They abused your loyalty.” You inhale a breath when he finally releases you, coughing and spluttering and wiping away the mess around your lips. His dark eyes invade your sight, even through the blurriness of tears, and tilts your head up. “But I won’t. Unlike Him, I reward loyalty, and my sweet, innocent nun, you are in for a treat.” 

As much as it pains you to admit, he is right. Never in a million years did you expect to be agreeing with a demon, but he speaks nothing but the truth. And with a simple reminder as to why you exiled yourself from your own faith, the nerves that flutter in your stomach now flutter with excitement. It fuels your heart, beating louder and harder while you are subject to this demon’s manipulation, carrying you and bending you over the table of the altar with a crash. One easy flicker of the eyes sees Jesus on the crucifix just a couple of metres ahead of you.

And you’re about to be fucked by a demon right in front of him. 

You twist your head over your shoulder to see Tom standing directly behind you, vigorous hands gripping your hips. For the first time in what seems like hours, you eventually find your voice. “What are you going to do to me?” 

“So many dirty, filthy things, little nun.” 

“Like…like what?” 

He tilts his head and considers you for a moment. Wow, he thinks. You really are that naive. A sly smirk graces his lips because he’s decided that he too can indulge in naming every way he’s going to defile you.

By the nape of the neck, he pulls you up against him, your back colliding with a wall of solid muscle. You feel the feather-light touch of his lips dance around the shell of your ear, his breath funnelling straight down to your eardrum. “I’m going to do what no one else has done before, not even you,” he whispers, stopping only to kiss beneath your ear. “I’m going to explore your body, inside and out. There isn’t going to be one bit of you left untouched. Not. One. Bit.” Right on cue, his hands slither down your figure, hugging every curve, dip and hill until he finds your tits, perked and pebbled. He rolls your nipples in between the pads of his fingers and in doing so, plucks the nerves that are tied to your pussy. “I’m going to tease you, make you want what you can’t have unless I permit it, and when I do, if I do, you’ll be begging for me to stop. You’ll be making so many pretty sounds; crying, screaming, begging, and all the little moans and whines I know you’re capable of.” He pinches hard and you buckle with a short, curt yelp that verifies his promise. 

“I’ll stretch you out in any way I please. Oh fuck, I’m just thinking about how tight your cunt is going to be, how you are going to have your cunt shaped and moulded by my cock that it can’t ever be filled by anyone else, only me. Your body will shake and quiver around me while I fuck you until you can’t fucking walk anymore.” His fingernails puncture your skin. He’s becoming inpatient as he lists the unavoidable. You swallow thickly thinking he’s finished, but when his forehead grinds against your temple, you realise you are so wrong. “You thought you were born to serve God? You’re wrong, you were made to serve me and I’ll do anything I please. I can’t wait to see you dripping with my seed but know this, little nun--” Sharp teeth bite onto your lobe. “I will replace every wasted drop until you are full to the brim.” 

“Fuck.” 

“That word sounds so delicious in your voice. Say it again.” To entice you, he sucks on the skin of your neck.

“Fuuuuck.” 

“Put your hand between your thighs for me, and tell me what you feel.” 

“I’m…I’m wet.” 

“Perfect. I think I might just have a taste.” 

Panic splinters through you. “A taste--what? Oooohhh my God! Fuck!”

Ass cheeks spread wide, Tom slots himself deep between them until his hot, wet tongue meets with your pussy and an explosion of something intoxicating happens inside you. You’re not quite sure what it is yet, but you are slowly becoming entranced by it. 

It’s the sensation of the wet muscle pulsing inside of you that nearly shatters your sanity. It prods and pokes, rabidly trying to push its way into your tight, untouched hole. With force, the pointed tip of his tongue slides in and you think it’s just a warning for what’s to come, but when his tongue grows inside you, reaching to inhuman lengths and skims your cervix, you completely and utterly fall apart.

His lips are latched, stubborn as they create a seal around your cunt and suck you into him. All manner of expletives fall from your lips as you try to find a way of coping with the mind-numbing sensation of his amorous tongue invading your inner body. It doesn’t help at all. Nothing can help you survive against it wriggling inside you, caressing every wall and breaking boundaries you didn’t know existed.

Your knees buckle and crumble beneath you, being overwhelmed by the instinct to curl into themselves for protection, but by the sheer strength of the demon behind you, you go absolutely nowhere. His hands land a powerful slap against your cheeks as a small punishment.

“Holy mother of f-f-fuck, how - ah - how is this real?” 

Finally, after a few earth-shattering minutes, his tongue slowly retracts, brushing against every nerve with generosity and licks up any traces of your slick as it drips down your thighs. 

“I told you. I’m going to explore your body; inside and out.” 

With too many dormant nerves being shocked to life, you try to pull your hips forward, almost mounting onto the altar, however it is like trying to take a drug away from an addict. The burning desperation of his hands grappling your hips make you wince, having little to no option but to follow his every movement like you are his puppet. Involuntarily, you deliver your cunt back to him and he holds back no reservations; nuzzling his lips and tongue against your clit, furiously flicking it back and forth, becoming an expert of your body and creating the stimulation he knows will break you in a matter of moments. 

His hand snakes around and presses against your lower abdomen. Words that aren’t your own echo in your head and very quickly you recognise his wicked tone. Strangely, as he talks, his lips don’t stray from your cunt and his voice remains within the walls of your mind. “You feel that heat in your stomach? You feel it growing and growing, so close to snapping?” 

“Yes! Ohhhh.” You jerk forward as he suckles on the little bud that’s adding to build up in your abdomen.

“It’s your first orgasm, ready and waiting for me. Let go of it, let it take over you and don’t fight it.” 

“How!?” 

“You’ll know.”

It’s a total shock to your system. Your entire body seizes as the feeling Tom described ripples through you from the tips of your burning ears to the tight curl of your toes, rendering your body completely spent as it flops against the wooden table of the altar. Regardless, true to his wicked nature, Tom doesn't stop. The orgasm gets tighter and grows more intense the longer he refuses to relent and it’s a harsh torment amongst the unprecedented pleasure. 

You cry out for salvation. “Please!” It goes unheard, as does the hiccup of your sob. “It’s too much. Ah!”  

After many hopeless pleads and begs, he eventually, thankfully, eases his attack, reducing his fiery lust to slow sweeps and nuzzling kisses to the cunt that gave him all that he desired. The cramp in your twitching thighs eases and you switch to relying on the table to keep you upright. 

In a trice, Tom boldly ventures upwards, teasing a squeal from you when he licks over your pursed hole, stopping to tease before journeying up the line of your spine. Still recovering, you lack the energy to move even as the demon behind you tugs you up, curling his hand around the column of your neck to hold you hostage in a chokehold. Just as violently as before, he snags your lips, sensually driving his tongue to brush over yours, tangy with the remnants of your slick. You don’t think you can ever get over the whirlwind of excitement when you hear that dark chuckle of his, especially when you moan into him because he knows how much you're indulging in his wickedness. 

He presses his full body weight against you, hot, hard and demanding. 

“I think we’re putting on quite a show for them.” Tom looks up towards the Jesus statue and smoulders. “They should count themselves lucky.” 

“Maybe they might get jealous.” 

Tom stops to look at you, shocked but pleasantly amused. To some extent, you are too, but you’re already marked for hell, what more harm would aggravating the holy spirits do that you haven’t already caused yourself? 

“Tell me, little nun, why would they be jealous?” He knows, but it pleases him to ask anyway. 

“Because I don’t belong to them anymore. I belong to you.” 

Aroused, Tom’s hand squeezes tighter, just enough to leave you gasping. “Yes you do. And I’m going to fuck you like you’re mine. Take a deep breath, little nun, you’re going to need it.” 

You don’t understand why until he’s squeezing every inch of his cock into you, and all the air in your lungs gets wasted into a scream, crying out in unbearable pain as he mercilessly tears through you. The pain is hot and tight, scoring through your nervous system that you can’t move any other part of your body in fear of exacerbating it. 

Is this how it’s supposed to feel? How can anyone enjoy this? 

After a slight struggle, Tom completely fills you. There’s a slight stutter to each of your breaths; suffocation in two very different forms. 

“Ugh, fuck! So…fucking…tight. I can barely move, little nun, you’re killing me.” 

In time, you overcome the pain, thankful it takes this demon more than a minute to acclimate to the tight squeeze of your cunt around his cock, just enough time for that haunting blackness to consume his sclera again, spreading through the veins around his eyes and it’s truly a demonic sight. He grinds his molars together, rabidly growling like a wild animal yearning to be fed and soon morphs into something a little closer to what you expected a demon to be like. He ruts and thrusts like he’s unbound by self-control, desperately chasing after something he can easily obtain, but the chase is where the fun lies. The animality in him drives him to sink his teeth into the supple, sensitive skin of your neck, sucking and licking every mark he leaves behind. He doesn't relent until you are well and truly branded with his signature.

Branded by a demon.

Your slick lines him, wet enough to also tame the burn inside you but sadly, there isn’t anything to tame the burn of the red, hot skin of your ass. He whips his hips so harshly against you, you can feel the redness oozing over your ass. 

“Oh God, it hurts so much!” 

“But it feels so good. You feel so good, fuck. Why don’t we have a little more fun, eh?” 

There’s no time to answer. Tom easily lifts you, swivelling you around and sitting your red ass onto the altar, legs wrapped around his waist. He wastes no time in slotting his cock back into you, pumping just as rigorously as before and you descend into a mania. New position, new angle, new pace, new sights, it’s all overstimulating. Your head falls back onto the velvet table cover and your eyes flutter to a close--

“Not a fucking chance. I want you to watch.” Yanked forward by the scruff of your hair, your chin digs deep into your chest where a small whimper bubbles, and you are subjected to watch his cock disappear and reappear in a fine, fluid movement. The repetition is somewhat mesmerising, like it’s brainwashing you into becoming addicted to the sight.

Suddenly, Tom’s finger, slight and careful, rests gently against your bundle of nerves and twitches precariously. Like a moth drawn to a flame, you follow his every move, hooked on the small but powerful electrical buzzes that his touch causes. A shockwave ripples up your spine at his touch. 

“Oh my God, what was that?” 

“Your most sensitive part, little nun. I’m gonna have a little fun with it.” 

His eyes peers over your shoulder and you shiver at the mischievous twinkle in his black eyes. He wears evil so well it amazes you that you’re still able to recognise when he has something devilish planned. You don’t dare look and instead, let the shock of what he lifts over your shoulder capture you in its tight grip. 

It’s the sacred crucifix, one blessed by the Abbess and doused in holy water. A gasp catches in the back of your bruised throat.

“I’m sure he won’t mind if we use this,” he whispers, rutting in and out and in and out… 

“What…what are you going to do with it?” 

Tom doesn’t say a word much to your horror. Instead, cautious, wide eyes watch the bare end of the cross mount your clit and begin pivoting around the little bud. Your stomach plummets. “Shit! You…you probably shouldn’t--”

“Shouldn’t what?” He interrogates, scowling. He presses harder and circles quicker. “Shouldn't. What."

"N-nothing, ah ahhhhh!"

"That's what I thought. Remember, little nun, I get to do whatever I want. I don't give a fuck who watches, who listens, what happens or what sacred fucked object I fuck you with, I am owed this."

His movements are brunt and erratic and you feel the heat building in your stomach again. "Okay! Okay! I'm sorry, fuck! I think I'm gonna snap--"

"Oh, you're going to do more than just snap," he pulls completely free of you, already seeing a long line of white, pearly slick trickle from you. "You're going to break. And so am I. We'll do it together."

His cock slides back into abruptly and hits deeper than before and the church fills with your cries. At your clit, the cross almost vibrates with his precision, and at your aching hole, Tom's cock, still thrusting in and out at what feels like the first time. Your cunt just can't seem to accommodate such an intrusion at his size.

Like the demon promises, something snaps in both of you and a chorus of grunts and growls rumble from his chest where whines and mewls leave yours. Instantly blood starts pumping rapidly to your cunt, swelling in size the more he continues to circle your throbbing clit with the crucifix. Your thighs clamped together to inhibit his movements, but he is just too unshakeable. He prolongs the sensation for as long as he can, testing your limits just to hear the sweet, sweet, sobs cracking from your throat. You cry out desperately, voice hoarse and dry as it crumbles beneath the pressure of Tom's desperation to have you, to give him everything but yet still have the physicality to bear the sudden influx of pleasure.

"Fuck! Oh yes, fucking take it all. Take all my cum. Fill you up. You'll be so full and round, oh yesssss. That's it."

The church walls resonates with your cries and heats to the sweltering temperature of your bodies, as if it's reacting to what it's just witnessed.

Your body quivers upon the altar. The velvet beneath seems to be spotted with stains of your own making, leaving behind a very sinful piece of evidence of what devilry has transpired. Starlight flickers behind your eyelids while the remnants of the orgasm begins to dissipate. You regulate your breathing, your pulse, your heart, anything to make the recovery of that planet-shattering pleasure less tedious. Inside you, warmth swims through you and a small minority of it escapes the twitch of Tom's cock, your cunt bursting at the seams while it drips down your thighs.

The crucifix clatters to the ground and Tom desperately pulls from you and begins collecting what escapes by the pads of his fingers and forces it back into you.

“Fuck,” you hiccup. “I think…” you shudder, “I think I’m still cumming.” With that information free to use, Tom teases an evil smirk, sneaking his fingers over your clit and…"NO! No, no, no, no, no, no, please, please, please, just...give me a second.” 

"Hahahaha, oh my dear little nun. This is never going to end." His words echo in between kisses, being strewn over your body as he licks, kisses and bites patches of your skin. His hands cruise over the length of your arms, lifting them and holding them high above your head.

"What...?"

He nuzzles deep into your neck, biting harshly and teasing a wince from you. "I can't get enough of this tight, little pussy. Fuck, what you do to me, little nun, I can't just leave you behind like that. Oh no, no, you'll definitely be coming back with me."

"No..."

"Yes. You made that decision, you willingly handed yourself over to me, you are mine to keep and a vow from the divine cannot be broken."

In a momentary lapse of weakness, tears blur your eyes as you strain to find the eyes of Jesus hanging on the crucifix above you while his lips roam your cheek, kissing delicately, tenderly as if to coax you back into his embrace.

"There's nothing He can do now because..." He pulls your wrist and holds it in the space beneath you. When he unfurls his hand from your wrist, it reveals a mark, a symbol tattooed into your skin. Circular with an unrecognisable language written inside. You're at a loss for breath, skin paling at what you've done.

"You're forever bound to the House of Holland."

#demon!tom holland #tom holland #tom holland smut #tom holland fic #smut #tom holland x reader #peter parker smut #as wicked as sin #nun!reader #tom holland fanfic #koh!tom holland #devil!tom holland #dom!tom holland

[the-final-sif]

1. How many works do you have on AO3?

I have 75 total works currently!

2. What’s your total AO3 word count?

904,821 total words written!

3. What fandoms do you write for?

Currently only really DSMP, but in the past I've written for bnha, marvel, rise of the guardians, homestuck, transformers and a bunch of other random ones in there.

4. What are your top five fics by kudos?

Before looking, my guess is it'll all be bnha, since some of those are my longer ones and and got pretty popular.

Katsuki Bakugou has No Goddamn Chill (But It's For The Best That He Doesn't) - 26,412 kudos

Lessons Learned - 15,859 kudos

You know that thing where an orchestra swaps instruments, and like, some of them get it right away, but others have no clue what they're doing? This is that but with quirks, two unwilling participants, and also Emotions - 11,774 kudos

The Green Eyed Monster - 7,066 kudos

A Yellow Box, Time, Trust, and A Few Adjustments - 6,579 kudos

5. Do you respond to comments? Why or why not?

Not usually, I respond sometimes if there's something that catches my attention. but. Uh.

This my inbox filtered by "comments without replies". I do read them all though! Even if I don't mark them as read.

6. What’s the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending?

Uhhhh, for dsmp they aren't too bad but probably A Palimpsest Mind.

7. What’s the fic you wrote with the happiest ending?

For DSMP again, Mercenary to Mailman

8. Do you get hate on your fic?

Nope, never really had issues with that. I've had a couple of weirdos but not really hate.

9. Do you write smut?

I did it once to prove I could but I didn't find it too interesting. Sometimes ideas can be fun but ever since the one time I found myself just wanting to write something else when I tried.

10. Do you write crossovers?

Nah, it's not my thing.

11. Have you ever had a fic stolen?

Yes, very weirdly. Was able to get it taken down though!

12. Have you ever had a fic translated?

I have! Several of my fics have been translated and it was super cool!

13. Have you ever co-written a fic?

I don't think I have? But I've done RP and worked out ideas with people before!

14. What‘s your all-time favorite ship?

Uh, honestly I'm less interested in ships themselves and more the nonsense that you can create with that. Any ship can be my favorite if it serves my purposes.

15. What’s the WIP you want to finish but doubt you ever will?

Fissile Family tbh. I have so much written for that and it all planned out but my interested in the bnha fandom is currently dead.

16. What’s your writing strengths?

I'm a pretty fast writer overall, and I think I do well with characterization and dialogue. I know that when I get in a flow I can get character voices down pretty well and that's something that I'm proud of. I'm also pretty good with doing my own take on characters that's different from their canon versions but is still verisimilar.

17. What’s your writing weaknesses?

Sometimes I just forget words or switch what sentence I'm writing halfway through and then never catch it. Also I have to actively beat back my own comma abuse.

18. Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language for a fic?

It's neat? Unclear what this question is asking me for.

19. First fandom you wrote for?

Warrior cats! It was hand written in a binder that I actually still have, about clans in an abandoned shopping mall. It was very silly and I'm still proud of baby me for writing it!

20. Favorite fic you’ve ever written?

Seven Year Old Katsuki Has The Ability To Kill A Grown Man And No Concept Of Legality

The formatting on this one was insane and took so long and I'm proud of how it came out!

#sif speaks #my writing #about me

[enden-k]

I haven't watched the Livestream (don't thave the brain capacity right now) but there was smth about inadzuma characters making an appearance? what's that about? is event going to be somehow connected to them?

mostly asking about ayaka because she's cute and I like seeing her (reminds me of a friend tbh so I have a lot of warm feelings for her by association). feel free to ignore this if you haven't watched the stream yourself and stuff, obv, theres probably somewhere else I can look this up as well I'm just not braining good right now

i like ayaka too <3 and ayato, the kamisato siblings have a special place in my heart fr

ill jsut use this ask to briefly sum up the livestream. did skip through it just now

WIFE NAMEDROPPED i thought he was dead

anyway:

main event is the fontinalia film festival set in fontaine featuring navia, furina, chiori (new inazuma character), chevreuse (new fontaine character), kamisato siblings, yoimiya, ofc our buddy xavier from inazuma. basically, we (and furina) are making a commercial for chioris boutique

banners: 1st half navia (5star geo claymore ousia aligned) + ayaka rerun 2nd half raiden shogun rerun + yoimiya rerun + chevreuse (4star pyro polearm ousia aligned)

quests: navia story quest

events: -well the main event in fontaine which gives us a free 4star claymore and several mini games all around film making -ittos beetle battle event returns, this time in liyue bc shinobu (and itto and the lil kid he fought last time) join....plus some liyue character is gonna join but wasnt named -the lost riches (pet seelie) event returns!!! also set in fontaine. the newest color this time is light blue-ish?

-some combat event. also set in fontaine. -marvelous merchandise - liben is back <3

other: -2 new artifact sets. no info on them tho -fontaine realm will be added to the teapot -fontaine card challenges and fontaine designs will be unlocked in tcg -new tcg character/monster cards: lyney, lynette, layla, signora, azhdaha, dvalin, some eremites, 💕💕al-haitham💕💕

cant wait to fucking beat him up in a card game idc about

system optimizations: -we will be able to view recommended sets in the artifacts menu -artifact filter system where you can automatically lock specific artifacts when farming and they get added to inventory -increased the amount of stuff u can put in for artifact enhancement similar how it is with weapons -removed the pop up windows when you level characters/weapons -refining weapons now allows you to add several mats and not one by one -when farming domains, when repeating the challenge we will now be teleported right to the center and not at the beginning to save us all the walking -the chasm archon quest ("in the depths, an unexpected reunion") is no longer locked behind two other world quests now. new players can now directly start -we can now claim all expedition rewards with one click and dispatch all of them without the pain of picking character and time again. its gonna be similar to honkai star rail now -processed ingredients can also be now claimed with one click

thats all i got, was honestly just skipping through the stream so no more details on the mini games or stuff as i usually did. just the important things ig

also, in under an hour the codes will expire so quickly claim them if u can:

RS99D5LVTM6V

UBRQC4MCT4PZ

8BQ9CMMVS5PM

#long post #4.3 livestream summary #genshin tag

[alittledizzy]

I'm not a fan of dream's but it's so funny to see he went "after the surgery it won't be me in the mask all the time" then "don't say it's not me wearing the mask >:(". Like that dude is weird but weirdly hilarious.

tbh it is objectively hilarious.

i think the most important thing everyone should keep in mind about dream is just... dude is also figuring this out for the first time along with all the rest of us

there is this expectation (not from you, just from fandom in general) that he's either a 100% fuck up who makes awful decisions or he's 100% capable marketing genius who should not be questioned ever

but he's just like. a twenty three year old guy who until eight months ago hadn't left his house in four years. obviously rich thanks to his success over the pandemic. obviously intelligent enough to have built this career more or less by himself. but just because you stumble into a mix of the right content at the right time and the right audience finding it doesn't mean you're going to continue to make every right choice after.

i feel like fans of dream more than anyone else should get this? this man is like three chronic illnesses and a couple of neurodivergent diagnoses stacked together in a trenchcoat. he is relatable to a fault, but some people don't want to relate to him when it comes to the shitty aspects of adhd like time blindness and hyperfixation on a specific project. they also don't want to acknowledge what trauma can do to your passion for a specific topic. they don't want to face the human aspects of him because that's a stumbling block on the road to "dream is disappointing me personally so i'm basically now an anti"

he had a major project this year he was very excited about. for reasons outside of his control it never got off the ground. that sucks. like... i can't imagine spending months writing a 60k fic and someone else comes out with a similar fic and is hostile toward me over the idea of me posting mine. i'd sure as fuck be ready to step back from writing for a while.

and on the opposite site the people that idolize him and never want to hear a negative word about him or 'pop off, king' to every single thing he says don't want to understand that a healthy amount of criticism is not only good but needed for anyone. i've seen the same cycle in every fandom i've been in, like this is just 2018 dan and phil hiatus arguments with a new coat of paint, so i'm not even being specific to dream when i say toxic positivity and toxic negativity are equally exhausting to me. the reddit is a godsend when it comes to a place dream can, of his own volition and when he wants, visit to get a consensus of rational fandom opinion without the filter of people who are inclined to never disagree because they want a notice from him

anyway my tl;dr is i think more of fandom needs to look at dream and think 'what a weird but weirdly hilarious guy' rather than this urge to project everything they want him to be or want to be mad about onto him

#dnf asks #anon asks

[kradogsrats]

... not related to any of that except in a "I'm deep in my bullshit and taking screenshots about it, which inevitably sinks me deeper into my bullshit" kind of way: I still think it's interesting that the Sea of the Castout does not feature on the Orphan Queen-era map in the illustrated flashback sequence

I did a big-ass post about this back after s4 because I'm the kind of crazy person who could immediately name where the map from Rex Igneous's tooth pointed without having to look it up, and because it was and still is super fucking conspicuous that it's not here: the theory was that the Sea of the Castout was created specifically to house Aaravos's prison. However, this now causes a huge timeline discrepancy, because Ripples, which it seems pretty firm is describing the formation of the Sea of the Castout, is also pretty firmly describing it as being pre-Elarion, or at least pre-golden age. At the very, very latest, it is pre-expulsion, which would still put it 300+ years earlier than this map appears.

But like, this isn't a case of "they slapped a filter on the map graphic (which tbh I would not be surprised if they did) and the Sea of the Castout didn't have an outline good enough to register"... the rivers on this map are accurate in fairly extreme detail, and we can see both bodies of water that lie between the Storm Spire and Umber Tor. There isn't a hint of the Sea of the Castout or the five rivers that lead to it. If this was a filter issue, we'd have something. So unless it was arbitrarily erased... it's not part of this map. It's a feature that either doesn't exist or humans don't know about.

Now, we could make the argument that it's unlikely humans would have accurate maps of the inland features of Xadia that are far from the Border or a coast, but... again, those are some really fucking accurate rivers. The map also can't be older than the expulsion, because it shows both the Border and all the major cities of the human kingdoms.

Is the "new sea" mentioned in Ripples a different body of water somewhere on the map, maybe Weeping Bay? (ehhhhhh...???) Does the magic protecting information about Aaravos include maps? (That would be very inconvenient.) Am I just baffled by this but refuse to consider that it could be insignificant? (Yes.)

#the dragon prince #geography of xadia

[i-sveikata]

I have a few questions, but please do not feel pressure to answer them. You can ignore as you please! 💙

What is your favourite scene? That you read again and again after you have written?

Which chapter was the most fun to write? And which chapter that made you pull your hair while writing?

Is there any chapter that you want to change a few parts in it? Or that you say “Oh I wish I’d go different ways in this chapter, I wish I haven’t written like this.” etc.

Have you ever felt demotivated while writing graveyards that you wanted to discontinue?

What is the thing you feel excited to write in the future?

and for the wip game: head, heart, mouth please 🥰💙

No no i love questions!!!! Hmmm i think probably the first scene that i ever wrote? which was vegas and pete's clash of wills in the red room of the compound or the escape scene when pete fled the safe house. those two feel very vivid to me when i think of all that's happened so far. (there's also another scene that's still to come but i won't spoil that one ;) not yet )

i honestly can't remember lol. all of the chapters have been fun to write! it's one continual story in my head the chapters are more just break off points for the readers tbh

oh that is a good question. weirdly i never get that??? i do occasionally go back and edit spelling mistakes or wonky sentences when i reread but ive actually never experienced that. usually the decisions i make writing often lead to more progression of the narrative or like foreshadowing for the future (often without me even consciously intending it) so the different things i put in there end up tying together with other stuff. kinda like chasing down a rabbit hole that connects to a entire underground warren but somehow manages to lead back to the main tunnel in the end.

no not exactly i wouldnt put it like that. i've been tired or creatively exhausted and ive taken breaks knowing that i need them in order to keep writing (which is mostly what the delay between this and the last chapter was- also all the family christmas stuff and the stress that comes with that, plus i got covid two weeks before xmas, then i got the flu and walking pneumonia again a week after that and then i went on holiday first week of jan hahaha there's just been a lot going on that's left me physically and mentally exhausted lol) But no that hasn't crossed my mind- i don't usually have trouble finishing stories (even ones as insanely long as this) but i do go through inspiration/idea droughts which is when taking a break for a bit can come in handy.

im actually pretty keen to start working on my original work after i finish graveyards. hoping to dedicate some real time to it so i can finally finish off the entire draft and start looking into trying to get it published so fingers crossed!

Of course you can sentences below!!!

Because when the words seem to sink into Vegas’ head, when the question filters through he turns automatically, expectantly towards Pete. As if out of everyone, he knows exactly where to lay his unspoken query.

\

Pete knows that this is a fight he can’t win. So even with his heart pounding in his ears, Pete bows to Mr Korn before straightening up again.

\

Kinn’s mouth turns down and Pete already knows his answer. Even if Mr Korn tries to sidestep again and pretty it up.

#fic asks #on writing #one word wip game #ill fill the graveyards until i have you

[redysetdare]

Monkie kid headcanons for fun

Red son headcanons:

Red son has bad memory and he only calls MK and Mei Noodle boy and dragon girl because he legit cannot remember their names to save his life.

Red son's glasses are shades, which aren't normal for prescription glasses which makes me think he actually uses them to control light intake due to his pupils not adjusting to light properly.

Red son has chronic pain but doesn't even realize it because He's lived with it for centuries so it's basically just the norm for him. His pain is mostly centered in his back and joints.

Red son has neurodivergent swag. Idk what kind but he sure as hell has it.

Red son doesn't like being touched. He probably has to be the one to initiate the touch to feel comfortable. (You could read this as him being touch starved but tbh i don't really read him one way or another :P)

Red son has the nonbinary swag. Source: trust me bro.

Red son can't cheat on anything. he legally is not allowed to cheat. this may or may not be related to the fact he feels the need to prove himself. Source: he tried to win the great wall race fair and square instead of just stealing the peach or cheating to win.

Red son just genuinely finds racing fun. Source: His truck literally turned into a race car before he ever had to race. he just likes going fast and building cool cars. also the fact he chose to race in the great wall race when there were other options to get the peach.

Red son has low empathy.

Red son isn't very good at comforting and instead is someone who tries to find a solution to a problem. He struggles to realize that sometimes there is no solution and some people just need comfort.

Red son is non-partnering aroace. He used to just say that romance got in the way of his work because he didn't realize that romantic interest wasn't just something you could turn on or off at will.

Red son actually doesn't have any bull-like features and he is rather self conscious about the fact he doesn't look like his father at all.

Red son is a cat person. Cats tend to flock to him due to being a living heater and he just accepts his fate and gets buried in them.

Red son doesn't know how to handle compliments or people being nice to him so he usually mistakes his confused feelings towards them with anger.

Red son is able to get "burnt out" in which he uses too much energy and his fire dies out for a while, in which he is only able to produce smoke. Usually after resting he is able to use his fire again.

His fire responds to his emotions. It can become hard to control when he is emotionally unstable.

When angry or stressed Red son turns to work. usually he will lock himself up in his room or workshop until he's calmed down or finished what he's working on.

Red son talks to himself and thinks out loud often. he finds it easier to work through his thoughts when he is able to verbalize them out loud as compared to them floating vaguely in his head.

Red Son doesn't really have a filter and will reply bluntly with his exact thoughts. he struggles to take into account how his words could upset others which has made him come off as rude.

The only time he is aware of what he is saying is when speaking to his parents. Source: Red son will seem to speak without filter until his parents show distaste in what he said in which then he will backtrack and try to change what he said to make them happy. (the "I have made it's power my pow - our power" scene in the pilot)

Red son doesn't eat beef because of his father being a bull. (more of a silly headcanon rather than serious)

Mk Headcanons:

Mk has the transmasc swag. Source: trust me bro. Also just him mentioning how he used to go by something before MK, how he wears a shirt when swimming, and how much he screams about being a monkey MAN. Very transmasc of him.

Mk has ADHD. He is SO ADHD you guys have NO IDEA. Source: IMPOSSIBLE DELIVERY THAT IS THE ADHD MOOD ALL THE TIME.

Mk cries over movies all the time. It's basically expected that every emotional scene in a film will end with him sobbing.

Mk is Gay AroAce. I imagine him being Demi or gray aro and then just plain ace!

The more power MK uses the more he shows monkey-like features.

Mk was actually decently strong even before he got monkey king's powers. basically he's got a bit of muscle on him.

Mk has a war form like Wukong, he just hasn't activated it yet :) (iirc Wukong's "war form" is really just Wukong's power to multiply his limbs so MK can do that too)

Mk will make weird noises as he does things, usually as sound effects to the task he is currently doing.

Mk can't swim. Source: He has monkey floaty :)

MK is sensitive to sound and uses his headphones to help control that. He often uses music as a stim and to help him focus. Source: he wears headphones a lot. also trust me bro. it's the adhd

MK talks to himself a lot, usually as a way to sooth his nerves to talk his way through a problem. He will also talk to plushes and other inanimate objects as a way to talk thought his thoughts as they get all jumbled in his head.

He tends to stay up incredibly late, even when he is tired. He can't ever seem to go to bed at a reasonable time.

MK is unmedicated for his ADHD. Not for lack of trying he just keeps forgetting to go get it prescribed.

MK can't drink coffee has it has the opposite effect on him in which it causes him to crash intensely. he tried to use it as a sleep aid once to go to bed earlier but instead it made him late for work as he slept way longer than expected. source: very common for ppl with ADHD to consume caffeine and become sleepy instead of energized. ofc this isn't how it is for all ppl with ADHD but it's common enough that i put it on MK ;)

MK tends to snack as a stim. He often will find himself missing full meals because of hyperfocus and his snacking stim making him forget he's hungry.

Mei Headcanons:

Mei also has the ADHD swag sorry I don't make the rules.

Mei is Lesbian Ace. I feel like she is either Demi-Ace or Gray-Ace.

Mei has a physical dragon form as well as the energy dragon. The energy dragon is a lot easier to summon compared to turning into a dragon - plus takes less energy.

While Mei likes cats, She is more of a dog person overall.

Mei used to be pretty shy as a kid mostly due to her trying to fulfill her parents idea of her. She only really came out of her shell when she became friends with Mk. Hence why Mei's parents, specifically her mom, didn't really care for Mk all that much. if anything they found him to be a bad influence for a while. also why Mk was never invited to Mei's house until S1E3

Mei has a better relationship with her father as compared to her mother. While both her parents are more traditionalists her father always was a bit more lenient and supportive of his daughters eccentricities.

Mei met Mk when out in town with her family. She saw him trying to win a crane machine and ended up helping him get the monkey plush he wanted...even if it was cheating the system. (also yes the plush he is seen with I headcanon to of been won by Mei and gifted to him)

Mei was a late bloomer when it came to her dragon powers which just added to the stress she had of being the family disappointment.

Mei often speaks without a filter when around the rest of the monkie kid group as she feels like she can truely be herself with her friends as compared to her family where she feels constantly stifled.

Mei is a variety streamer. She most often streams video games but sometimes will do vlogging streams along with MK as they go around the city. She has definitely streamed MK fighting a demon before.

Mei has raced illegally at least once and she totally WON.

Mei made the upgrades to her bike herself, such as the ability for it to come to her when she calls it. It made it easy when she has the sudden burst of motivation to drive it.

At first Mei was incredibly polite when meeting Pigsy and Tang, not fully coming out of her shell right away. At first Pigsy thought Mei would be a good influence on MK - he was proven wrong when Mei became more outgoing and starting causing mischief with MK.

Mei definitely crashed through MKs window while in her dragon form at least once (she was probably trying to visit him while he was grounded lol). Pigsy was not impressed.

Mei went to private school when she was a kid meaning that her and MK were only able to hang out after school. Though as she got older she had a tendency to start skipping class to go crash MKs classes instead.

Some mixed headcanons that don't belong with one character or another:

Mei and Mk are literally the only friends each other has. MK always struggled to make friends due to kids finding him obnoxious. Mei struggled to make friends due to her upbringing along with her ADHD making her rather abrasive.

#monkie kid #headcanons #monkie kid headcanons #long post #tumblr should shorten this automatically but tagged as long post just in case #this is ignoring s4 as i refused to watch it lmao #so if anything wrong then sucks to suck i guess! #but also i'm always right so #if others can blatantly ignore canon for fanon then so will I! #but my headcanons are better than fanon #this is a bit all over the place and tbh i could probably add more but my brain is blanking so #this is what u get #sorry not sorry the red son section is so big he's just the best character i dont make the rules

[rhan-hastur]

Hi! @velvetcloak asked me to do some kind of lineart tutorial/step-by-step, I'm by no means an expert so don't hesitate to ask if you need some things clarified! Always glad to help.

I use three different methods that are pretty much trial and error, depending on what works best for the artwork but I'll do my best to explain with screenshots - these were taken on photoshop, I draw with procreate, but I'm guessing the layer modes are similar on other softwares. (Also mine are set in french, sorry in advance for the confusion.)

If you're already familiar with digital lineart and softwares, this probably won't be of much use, it's very basic stuff.

Otherwise, more below the cut! (It got a bit long.)

I. Solid black lineart, with this illustration used as reference.

I used the basic gesinski ink brush in procreate, 100% opacity in normal mode to get pure black. Very basic, it's set on top of the colour layers, everything above that is just additional effects and filters + textures. Note that I always draw separate elements on different layers and fuse them later, it's easier to deal with details this way. The isolated layer looks like this (I changed the colour of a disappearing hair lock, more on this later):

And the colours without it, like this (my style relies heavily on lineart, lol):

Both:

Good! It's a bit harsh though, I like to add a second layer to soften things up, set in 45% opacity multiply mode right under that. I duplicate the main lineart, and add a gaussian blur to the copied layer (between 3 and 5px, values vary from one artwork to another, same with the layer modes.)

Not done yet! I use the blured lineart as a colour filter by locking it to pixels only and filling it with the tone I want. In this case, red. Isolated layer:

And the end result:

The second method, I tend to use more on sketches and loose drawings to get a better blend of lineart and colours:

II. Semi-transparent lineart, with one of these sketches.

Basic 6B brush in procreate (my fav), quite thin here but you can get great results with a larger brush. It's not really obvious looking at this scale, so here's a comparison between a black solid lineart (1 layer, normal 100% - the scars are on a separate layer because of the colour, otherwise it's the same setting) and a semi-transparent one (2 layers), especially visible in lighter areas, note how the second one lets hues show through. I find this to look a bit less stiff.

Now for the method! Since this relies on the layers underneath, you want your colours to a bit more precise than the previous example. Without lineart:

TBH it's also a two layers solution, super easy. Once you're statisfied with your basic lineart, set the layer to overlay 100%. You'll get something like this:

Then duplicate this layer, put the copied layer above the overlay one and set it to normal 70% (or whatever looks best, this is 67%) and you'll get the final result as previously shown! In this particuliar case, I erased the black circle around the iris in the normal mode layer to keep the blue of the overlay one. You could also skip step two depending on the desired rendering.

The third method is a blend of the other two result-wise:

III. Coloured lineart, with this illustration. (tw: a bit of gore and blood in the full artwork, I'll crop it out of the screenshots. Poor guy can't get a break. It's the only file in this style with a semblant of organization, don't be like me, rename your layers and use folders.)

Fountain pen toothy brush, from the MaxPack watercolor set. It has a bit of a texture to it, and isn't entirely opaque so it blends nicely with the layers below. The lineart is set to normal 100%, for this method it's preferable to have separate layers for each elements, since you'll be recolouring them individually. Here, the hands, skull and additional details are all on individual layers.

Just like the blurred layer in the first method, you need to lock your pixels (the little grid to the left on photoshop):

And either fill you layer with colour, or paint on it with an opaque round brush/a soft one depending on the desired outcome. (Some zones might need a gradient, or various colours.) You can also use another normal layer on top of a black lineart and set it as a clipping mask, same result, different method. But I prefer to keep the layers count to a minimum when possible. With the layers below, it will look like this:

You can notice a bit of lineart transparency over the skull colour layer, cool stuff. (The shading of the skin is set on top for some reason, I don't remember why but surely there was a reason.) However! In this illustration, I need a yellow glow for the fire so let's create yet another layer, shall we? This affects the whole rendering. I painted a diffuse light source using a soft gradient brush, and set the layer to hard light. Isolated layer:

End result:

All done!

Now go create!

#hope this was at least a bit helpful :') #digital line art

[vergess]

Hey uhhh question for ya. Do you have any advice on finding friends that talk about sex without being weird about it? I had friends like that in college, but we've lost touch and I can't seem to find others that are as open and unembarrassed. Doing some sexual exploration recently, and finding myself with nobody to share with... doesn't feel great tbh. Something tells me I'm not looking for people in the right places, I'm just not sure what those places would be and wondered if you had any ideas or advice

I don't have much advice, I-'m afraid. I've always been so aggressively open about sexuality that it's a bit self-filtering.

Though, in terms of tumblr specifically, it's very common for people to put in their porn blog headers "DMs are open; not looking for partners" and similar in their sidebars.

So, you can always try DMing those people who mention/reblog similar kinks. I've only done it twice myself, but it went well both times even if we ultimately didn't "hit it off" and become besties. I expect it would be faster if I was more of an active pursues on the hunt for friends.

And I guess you can always DM me! I love hearing about people's sex lives as long as I'm not being expected to participate. It's tons of fun!

You can also just make friends with current/former sex workers; as a rule our professional skill means we're very good at talking about sex in a nonprofessional capacity too. Not always, of course, but often! And everyone loves a friend who doesn't flinch at their work or try to scrounge for freebies.

So I guess that's some advice, though I wish I could be more helpful!

#Asks #Answered asks #autistic-velociraptor

[sassy-ahsoka-tano]

nooo but like imagine a tipsy and vv horny elvis.

i love this i want this

he would be totally unaware of the fact that he's wasted. he doesn't get drunk that often because of Gladdy, so it's a rare occasion to see him like this.

he can't hold his liquor very well, tbh. so after a shot or two of vodka, he's feeling pretty good and sees nothing out of the ordinary about his behavior.

but he gets REAL handsy. he wants to have a hand on you at all times. he wants to be able to touch your skin and feel your warmth.

and you're pretty much a goner when he latches his lips onto your neck. somehow, when he's drunk, he can find that sensitive sweet spot so easily, without even trying.

his hands are always trying to slip onto your thighs, curling around the skin and squeezing hard. he's obsessed with your ass, too. lots of playful spanks.

drunk elvis is SUUUPER playful. we all know how goofy he is sober so it's just amplified times like a thousand when he's drunk cause he has no worries and no filter.

one minute he'll go off talking about how much he loves you and how utterly obsessed with you he is. how perfect and wonderful you are. and the next minute, he's making everyone's stomaches ache with his jokes and tomfoolery.

this bleeds into sexy time, too. he's so funny during drunk sex. but he's also very, very insistent on getting consent from you as frequently as possible. he's constantly asking if everything is okay and reminding you that "we can stop if somethin don't feel right, okay baby?"

he's also a sweaty mess during drunk sex. his hair gets easily touseled and sweaty, and his eyes get all glazed over. and he just looks at you with a mixture of lust and love that makes your heart skip about a thousand beats.

he's also extra tender and loving during drunk sex. again, he wants his hands on your skin at all times. he wants to physically be as intimate and close with you as possible. he truly makes you feel like you're the only person in the world worthy of his attention at that moment.

#milas thirsty thursday #dirty deeds #milasthings #milasheadcanons #milaselvisheadcanons #i love tagging TT when its friday afternoon 💀

[bitchfitch]

Tbh the vignette thing is also going to open a lot more sorta exposition opportunities up. Instead of Arlo having to tell Conall something for it to be conveyed to the reader it can just be a sweet moment untainted by having to go though the Arlo Filter™

Like, without being able to do that i don't know how I could show how happy Arlo's original life was. All the little moments of him with his family. Like how Queen Rhiannon wasn't a monster in his eyes. She was everything good and he took comfort beside her Because of how beastly she looked. And I'd be able to show him and his brothers playing with Masal when she was little, and the squabbling the brothers would get into as she grew up and needed to upgrade from riding on Arlo's back when they played to riding on Drens and so on and so on. How loved she was and how when she turned on them none of them were angry with her or betrayed, they just felt scared that their precious sister had been poisoned against them and feared what might happen to her now.

And it would let me pass the camera around. Take it from Arlo and give it to Masal as she realizes the truth about her family and the devastation they had wrought. Give it to the witch who lives on the hill, watching her sisters body being warped just as the land around them was because of her selfishness and inability to let the dead rest. Give it to the witch with the shotgun, staring down a brother who's willing to put himself between her and her prey. Give it to Rhiannon, before she's queen, when a furious oracle with broken legs gives her a prophecy he knows will lead to nothing but ruin because ruin is all he can dream for these lands now.

Give it to Conall, who wants to be good and wants to do good. Who wants to excuse all the feelings he holds for Arlo as just a side effect of his curse and all the work he's putting in with him as just community service.

Give it to Asena. Alone with no one but the two witches to guide her, and so so much anger at all that was taken from her. So much determination to claw back what little she can, no matter what it takes.

[aroacemisha]

|| About Me ||

Hi! I'm Misha (he/him), adult. I'm a queer Russian artist and writer [art & writing tag: #misha's creative stuff]. I'm also an atheist, and I'm pretty certain I'm neurodivergent.

I have original characters [tag: #misha's original stuff], and I have a second blog at @crossroadsofchaos dedicated specifically to my original work. The universe my original work is set in consists of our regular world, but with a secret extra island.

I also have a TOH AU called Retired Leaders AU [tag: #retired leaders AU]. It was created around early September of 2021 and was my main focus until the summer of 2023, where I shifted focus to my original stuff and wasn't really posting about the AU anymore. However, as of April 2024, I have revived the AU. An updated info masterpost is coming soon.

(Note: Do not try to look through the tag with the /chrono url addition thing, because the AU has changed a lot since its creation, and the information you'd get from old posts is likely to be inaccurate)

AU-specific character tags: #belos wittebane; #steven bellamy; #hunter wittebane; #kikimora volk. (In the old/pre-revival version, Kiki's tag was #kiki wittebane)

If you’d like to ask anything, whether it’s about me or my work, or if you just want to say something to me, feel free to send an ask!

Feel free to scroll through my "#positivity" tag as well, I reblog positivity posts sometimes.

(I try to tag triggers, at least ones I'm aware of. The format is "#cw: [thing]", like "#cw: flashing" or "#cw: blood", and a handful are censored like "#cw: sui mention" or "#cw: sa mention". If there's anything you'd like me to tag, feel free to send an ask.

Also, posts like "reblog this if you think x", "good luck posts" and other stuff like that are tagged with "#reblog bait". And I won't reblog any that are guilt tripping/claiming you're a bad person if you don't reblog, though if I ever have to make an exception for a post with important info, it will still have the "#reblog bait" tag)

A few more things:

Do not repost/reupload my work or any other artist's work without permission. And get that permission before posting, instead of posting and saying you'll remove it if they ask. Ask for permission, and if they say no, or they don't reply, don't post it.

Exclusionists are not welcome here. This includes label and pronoun policers, as well as those who complain about the word "queer". If you personally don't identify as queer, that's fine, but stop complaining about other people using the term.

Please stop reinventing the gender binary with all the "nonmen/nonwomen" and "tme/tma" stuff. The latter terms are also intersexist, and this post explains why. And I'd recommend reading this post by another intersex person as well.

Neurodivergent people are welcome here! And I mean it in the actual meaning of the term, which includes things like bipolar, OCD, psychosis, personality disorders, etc. The positivity tag I mentioned above includes positivity for these things.

For fandom people, please, tag your ships. People who like the ship can find your stuff easier, and people who dislike it can filter the tag and avoid it. This includes OC x canon ships (please tag the specific ships as well), and x read3r (I'd even say tag any read3r/audience insert tbh, even if it's not ship)

Lastly, gtfo if you treat p3do and inc3st like lighthearted shipping tropes (pr0ship/c0mship/whatever else you call yourselves), I block on sight.

[This post gets updated sometimes]

🇺🇦🇬🇪🇦🇲🇵🇸🇸🇩🇨🇩

#misha's text posts #oh look it's misha #info masterpost