#acolyte recognition

[the-most-humble-blog]

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🛐 A MOMENT OF RECOGNITION

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I would like to extend my earnest, measured, and mythically-grounded appreciation to two acolytes whose reblogs have not gone unnoticed.

This isn’t just a signal boost. It’s divine relay. You lit the beacon when others scrolled past. You reblogged the forbidden light and aimed it directly into the eyes of the nearly-gone.

Let me be clear: Your reblogs are resurrections. Each one, a flare sent skyward for those who put down their pens because some unworthy pretender told them they weren’t ready.

And how do I know a pretender?

Because I’ve seen them. The self-declared “creators,” the “mentors,” the cloaked academics who tighten velvet ropes around hopeful necks and call it standards.

They gatekeep wisdom. They deflect power. They discourage brilliance that doesn’t wear their robes.

You? You did the opposite. You let my signal pierce the algorithm and find the bleeding ones. The ones too good to be accepted. Too wild to be published. Too true to be promoted.

So this is your shoutout.

@kittythesnugglycat

@little-snails-reblog

You didn’t just reblog. You helped build Olympus. You passed the torch knowing it might burn. You gave my myth a mirror and proved that even in this void, some still believe.

From one who will never beg for applause— thank you. From one who will never trade scrolltrap for safety— I see you. And from one who’s been hated by gods, but never abandoned by the faithful— you are now written into the archive.

Acolyte. Builder. Fire-wielder.

Whatever comes next? You helped summon it.

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[therebelcaptain]

i feel like i’m one of eight people who went into the acolyte convinced that master indara was not going to make it past episode one. like, everyone seemed so surprised she got killed off straight away. i mean, most of the shots of her in the trailer were clearly flashbacks, so based on that i figured that she was one of the murdered jedi they were talking about. so if anything, the thing that surprised me was simply that they opened with her getting killed rather than having it be the end of the first episode or something. hopefully we get to see a lot more of her in flashbacks, but yeah. i didn’t think so many people would be surprised haha.

[tenaciousarcadeexpert]

list of young actors of color who deserve to have more recognition and opportunities as actors like Glen Powell, Jacob Elordi, Timothee Chalmet etc. It would be refreshing to see more of these talented and underrated actos of color in lead roles, whether in action and sci fi blockbusters, even rom coms

*Note, the list consists of actors born within the 90s-2000s. This might not be a complete list so whoever sees this is welcome to add more actors that I missed. I might update this post from time to time

basically a sequel to this post dedicated to young actresses of woc

Manny Jacinto: It's a crime that he's not cast as a male romantic lead in rom coms. He was so talented in the acolyte and he deserved the same career Glen Powell has. It's a crime he's not in more projects as a lead

Rege Jean Page: he's born in 1988 but I had to include him as he deserved the same roles and opportunities as his co worker Jonathan Bailey. He still deserves a career outside of bridgerton

Caleb McLaughlin: It's very telling how he's not in a lot of other projects (major blockbusters) out of the rest of the young and mostly white cast in stranger things

Ncuti Gatwa (he deserves the same appreciation and opportunities David Tennant and Matt Smith got post Doctor Who)

Danny Ramirez

Anthony Ramos

Rish Shah

Charles Melton (it's a crime he didn't get an Oscar, here's to hoping he gets more major roles)

Ross Butler (Look at him, let him play an action hero)

Ryan Potter

Justice Smith

Archie Madekwe

Jacob Batalon

Dev Patel

Mena Massoud

Mason Gooding

Darren Barnet

Justin Chien

Xolo Maridueña

Justin H Min

John Boyega (still deserved better than the way lucasfilm and star wars sidelined him in favor of A*am D*iver)

Aryan Simhadri

Jose Andres Rivera

William Gao

Tyler James Williams

Ramy Youssef

RJ Cyler

Dallas Liu

Victor Alli

Archie Renaux

there's more but unfortunately, tumblr has a 30 gif limit

[jujutsukinkadamy]

The Last Thing you'll

Ever Worship

Suguru geto x reader

TAGS : dead dove do not eat, noncon implications, public humiliation, cult dynamics, drugging, corruption, psychological manipulation, enemies to obliteration, execution kink, darkfic, yandere cult leader Geto, voyeurism themes, reader degradation, intense power imbalance, dubcon setup, body betrayal, rotcore, no fluff.

CW: This work contains graphic descriptions of psychological and physical control, drugging, public degradation, implied non-consent, and worship-via-humiliation. Read at your own risk. DEAD DOVE. DOVE IS ROTTING.

author's note : I've had many disturbing thoughts inside my head while I was writing this fic. Hope you darkfic enjoyers like this! Anyways I forgot the word count cuz I'm lazy like that. Enjoy the fic, Reblogs, likes, comments are appreciated ❤️ Ask me anything on my page💋

The first thing you notice is the cold.

Your body is suspended, arms chained above your head, toes barely brushing the stone floor. Your robes hang in tatters, blood drying against your skin. You can taste iron in your mouth. Something’s cracked in your jaw. You don’t remember when.

Above you, torches burn with unnatural steadiness, casting a golden glow over the stone sanctuary. Shadows shift. Dozens of eyes watch in reverent silence. You’re not just a prisoner.

You’re a spectacle.

“You brought this on yourself, you know.” The voice is soft like silk soaked in blood.

Suguru Geto stands before you, dressed not in armor or battle robes, but ceremonial black and gold. His long hair is tied back with precision. There’s a lazy elegance to his smile, the kind you’d expect from a man delivering a eulogy rather than a sentence.

He doesn’t look angry.

He looks… pleased.

You spit at him, or try to. It dribbles from your split lip and lands on your own collarbone and his smile widens.

“Still defiant. That’s good. I want them to see it before I burn it out of you.”

You and Suguru Geto were once inseparable, two sides of the same soul, bound by utmost devotion for each other, shared battles, and the kind of love that bloomed between scars and silence. He was your sanctuary, your shadow, your almost. But when his faith in the world rotted, when he turned his back on everything you both bled for, you couldn’t follow him into the dark. Although he did ask you to join him, to persuade you somehow bit you didn't, you couldn't. Choosing good meant leaving him behind, cutting the thread that once tied your hearts together. You still remember the look in his eyes when you walked away, not rage, not heartbreak, but betrayal. As if you were the one who'd abandoned him.

You pull against the chains, despite the ache in your shoulders. The crowd stays silent, his followers, robed in muted black, standing in neat rows like obedient acolytes. Dozens. Maybe more. You can feel their eyes like hands.

Geto steps closer. He doesn’t need to raise his voice.

“This sorcerer tried to end me. Broke into our sanctum. Slaughtered four of our own. All in the name of the weak. The civilians. The powerless.” He clicks his tongue. “And for what? Their admiration? Their thanks?”

He cups your chin in his hand, tilting your face toward him. “Did you really think they’d remember your name after you died?”

You jerk your head, trying to snap at him, but he holds you steady. The smile never leaves his lips. He speaks now only for you. “You could’ve been great, you know. You could’ve stood beside me. They would’ve worshipped you. But you had to be a hero.” He sighs. “Now they’ll watch as I turn you into something better.”

You freeze. Not from fear. From recognition.

Because you’ve heard the stories.

Geto doesn’t kill his enemies. He converts them.

The room shifts. You were dragged like a sac to the stone altar and your wrists were bound by some chains that reeked of cursed energy and you were forced on your knees. A table is brought forward, black velvet draped across a low altar. On it, a carved vial the color of moonlight. You feel a sliver of something colder than fear slip down your spine.

Geto picks up the vial with a reverence you don’t understand. He holds it in front of you like a holy relic. “A special blend, tailored just for you. Sorcery-compatible. Doesn’t sedate the mind, just... encourages the body.”

He removes the cork and holds the vial between his fingers. You twist, shake your head, and grunt trying to resist but it’s no use. Two followers step forward to hold you still. You try to bite one of them, but all it earns you is a punch to the gut that knocks the wind from your lungs.

Before you can even register the punch geto's hand grabs at your neck and then the liquid is in your mouth. It tastes like starlight and poison. You try to spit, choke, anything but he’s already tilted your head back. Forcing you to swallow.

It burns all the way down. It doesn’t hit at first.

But soon… your skin tingles. Your chest tightens. The air grows thick, hot, heavy. It’s like your blood has been replaced with honey. Every nerve ending hums. Your thoughts scatter like birds. You try to stay angry, focused but your body has already betrayed you.

Geto watches you shake.

“Good. Let it take hold. Let them see how quickly righteousness crumbles.” He turns to his followers.

“Bear witness. Watch the great protector become the lesson.”

You sag against the chains. Your knees buckle. Not from pain but heat. You hate how your thighs tremble. How your nipples peak beneath your ruined clothes. How slick begins to pool between your legs with every slow, monstrous heartbeat.

And Geto? He just watches. Patient. Devout.

You feel your breath catch when he touches your neck, fingers dragging down to your collarbone. The contact is feather-light, but it ignites your skin.

No. No. You’re not this weak. Not for him. Not like this.

But your body is drenched in betrayal. He leans in, whispers against your jaw. “You feel it, don’t you? The shame. The hunger. It’s rewriting you.”

You whimper and that, more than anything, makes him sigh like a man in love.

“Don’t worry. I’ll take care of everything.” He caresses your cheeks and you crumple to the floor like a broken puppet. He kneels beside you. Cradles your chin. Brushes your hair back with terrifying gentleness. Your vision swims. The room watches, still silent.

Don’t give him the satisfaction. Don’t cry. Don’t beg.

But your body is burning. Need strangles every thought. Your hips buck against nothing. You feel tears threaten.

“This,” he says, voice barely above a whisper, “is what you were always meant to be. Not a hero. Not a weapon. A symbol." You shake your head, but it’s too late. Your thighs are soaked. Your mouth parts on a moan you can’t swallow. "Let me show them your truth.” The stone beneath your knees bites into your skin, but you don’t flinch.

You won’t give him the satisfaction.

The cursed chains binding your wrists behind your back pulse with residual energy, sapping your strength with each beat. Your shoulders ache. Your jaw trembles. And still, you keep your head high because it’s the only thing you have left.

But the heat is building.

That fucking aphrodisiac he made you swallow thick and bitter, poured straight down your throat as he stroked your neck claws through your veins like wildfire. It doesn’t just make you wet. It makes you want. And that’s worse.

Geto watches you with hooded eyes, if you can call it that. Elevated, draped in black and gold, his legs spread with lazy arrogance as he studies you. “You’re shaking,” he says softly. “You going to beg soon?”

"Why?" Was all you can muster up to speak, your whole body was shaking. Even thinking about you calling the man in front of you your whole life makes bile rise up in your throat. How naïve were you?

He chuckles. “You don't get to ask questions.”

A ripple of agreement flows through the cult. They kneel in reverence men with eyes wide and ravenous, women clutching at their chests like this is scripture. They’ve been waiting for this. To watch their god ruin a sorcerer.

Geto rises. His steps echo as he circles you. Every inch closer feels like a cage closing. Your knees twitch, but the cursed chains bind you still. You can’t run. You can’t fight. You can only endure.

He stops behind you.

The air shifts warm breath on your neck, fingers ghosting over your hips. You shudder. “Still pretending you don’t want it?” he murmurs, hand slipping beneath the torn hem of your uniform. “Even when your cunt’s dripping?”

You want to scream. Instead, you grit your teeth. The cult breathes louder. He lifts your skirt. You choke on your own shame. “I want them to see.” His voice is lower now, dark with amusement. “All of them. How a proud little jujutsu brat turns into a hole the second I touch her.”

You jerk away instinctively. Useless. His hands pull your chains back tight. Geto kneels behind you, one hand between your thighs. He doesn’t have to search long your folds are wet, glistening, flushed from the drug’s effects. He swipes his fingers through the mess, then raises them for all to see.

“Willing,” he announces. “Even if her mouth still lies.” He stands up as one of his followers starts disrobing him. His face is lit up with pride and something dark and twisted, as if he's won a prize he was waiting for so long.

He kneels behind you and forces your head onto the stone, your cheeks scraping against the hard rough planes. He spits directly onto your cunt slow and deliberate and rubs the saliva in with cruel fingers, smearing it across your folds, then presses the tip of his cock against you. A whimper leaves your throat as you twist. He grips your hips.

“You wanted to keep your pride,” he says calmly. “So I’ll take it from you instead.”

And he thrusts in. No warning. No care.

Just pain, sharp and blinding, tearing a raw scream from your throat as he forces himself deep. Your knees slide forward on the stone, but his grip yanks you back onto him, sheathing every unforgiving inch inside you.

He groans. “Fuck. You’re tight.” You choke on a sob. Several gasps can be heard in unison.

“She’s crying,” a woman breathes.

Geto snaps his hips forward hard. Brutal. Your head jerks back. “Of course she is,” he says. “This is the first time she’s been fucked properly.” The sting from his cock drilling inside you is nothing compared to the sting which comes by knowing for the fact that suguru geto knew, he knew you didn't give yourself to anyone, he knew cuz you once told him that he'd be your first and last. And still he's being merciless with you.

He sets a rhythm that defies mercy. Your body jerks with each thrust, forced to take every inch. The chains burn. The stone bruises. But worst of all is the heat spreading deeper with every pump of his cock inside you, every sick twist of pleasure forced through your traitorous nerves. The smell of copper fills the air around you both and you feel something dripping onto your thighs. You feel it in your spine. In your toes. In the way your thighs twitch open wider.

“No,” you whisper. “No—”

“Ah, there it is,” he croons. “She’s starting to break.” He grabs your hair and yanks you up, forcing your back against his chest. Your tits are exposed, slick with sweat, bouncing with every thrust. The audience watches, spellbound. His hands slip in between your thighs and gather the blood trickling down your thighs from your cunt where you both are joined and brings his blood covered hand to your chest, spreading the blood all over your tits as a form of ownership. The crowd roars in triumph.

“Look at them,” he growls into your ear. “They’d kill to be in your place.” One thrust hits something devastating. Your mouth drops open. A moan escapes before you can choke it down. Geto laughs.

“Fucking knew it. That drug’s turning you into a perfect little cumrag.” You try to shake your head and push him away all but to no avail. But you’re clenching around him, your body wants it now. You feel your climax building. Unwanted. Disgusting.

He knows. “Gonna cum, aren’t you? From being fucked in front of everyone?”

“No! P-please...” But your voice breaks.

He leans in, biting your neck. “Do it. Let them see how filthy you really are.”

Your body convulses. You scream as your orgasm tears through you, your cunt pulsing around his cock, slick gushing down your thighs. The crowd gasps and praises their lord.

You slump forward, trembling. Geto doesn’t stop. He grabs your arms and bends you lower, plunging into you with renewed cruelty. His thrusts grow erratic. His balls slap against your ass with each snap of his hips. And then, he groans and empties inside you. Deep. Hot.

You feel it flood your insides, thick and possessive. Your stomach twists. Geto pulls out, slow and wet. The crowd stares at your gaping cunt, watching his cum leak from you in sticky strings. Some men drops to their knees, whispering prayers.

He grips your jaw and forces your head up. "I'm not done with you yet." The crowd falls silent as he whispers into your ear. “Open your mouth, swallow my spit and thank me."

You shake. Silent.

He slaps you—sharp and loud. “Open your fucking mouth, Slut.” Choked sobs escape your lips as you part your lips unwillingly trembling from shame and self loathing. He grabs your chin roughly as he spits inside your unwilling mouth. You're broken beyond belief.

“I…” Your lips tremble. “Thank you.”

He smiles. “There’s my girl."

You lie in a mess on the stone floor, body shaking, slick coating your thighs. Your vision swims. You’re not sure what hurts more your body or your pride. The crowd doesn’t jeer.

They bow. To you. No, to him. To what he’s done to you. What you represent now. Ruin in physical form. Geto crouches beside you, gathering you up in his robe. Not like a rescuer, but like a conqueror claiming a trophy.

“I told you, didn’t I? You’ll be the last thing they ever worship.” Your lip trembles. He smiles, and presses a kiss to your temple like a benediction.

“This is what salvation looks like, little dove. Flesh, ruin and obedience. If only you listened to me at first. And now the last thing you'll ever worship is me."

A smile grazes your lips from the sound of your old nick name coming out of his mouth, only the man before you was nothing like the suguru geto you once knew.

[savetheacolyte]

✨ THE ACOLYTE KEEPS THRIVING ✨ Months have passed—and it’s STILL dominating. This week it’s holding strong at #2 among ALL Disney+ Originals in the U.S.! 🥈💥

📊 According to Parrot Analytics (Apr 25 – May 1, 2025), The Acolyte is one of the most consumed, searched, and shared pieces of content in the U.S.

🔥 This series isn’t fading—it’s rising. 🌌 Bold. Queer. Emotional. Powerful. A story that refuses to be erased.

📣 If you believe The Acolyte deserves more—more respect, more recognition, more SEASONS— Make noise. Share this. Be part of the movement.

[tennessoui]

#30 for the ask game!

ahh thank you for sending this :D

[from this prompt list]

30. Your OTP gets to pick out each other’s outfits; what is each wearing?

Anakin whips his head around the moment he hears the doors to the mess open again. But the gleeful anticipation in his chest curdles and then collapses in on itself when he actually sees his master making his way, head held high, towards him.

They'd both lost a wager against their troops through no fault of their own. The simple question, who can knock out more droids: the clones or the Jedi? Do you want to wager on it? had felt like it had an easy answer before the battle. But then at the onset of the charge, Asajj Ventress had been spotted and Obi-Wan's priorities had shifted to capturing the sith acolyte. And then, naturally, Anakin's priorities had shifted to following his master for his own good.

This meant that, altogether, the Jedi destroyed twelve droids. The clones destroyed almost five hundred.

At least, in recognition of their bravery and service to the Republic, Cody and Rex on behalf of the 212th and 501st had allowed a slight change in rules. Anakin was to pick an outfit for Obi-Wan to wear, and Obi-Wan to pick an outfit for Anakin.

Anakin hadn't even been surprised to walk into his quarters and see a replica of Jedi robes, in Obi-Wan's preferred tan and white, laid out on his bed.

He'd been fourteen when he started dressing in darker, nontraditional colors. Browns complemented by blacks complemented, for a period of about a year, by dark reds. He'd sought out difference as a form of self-expression, and he'd known instantly that his master had had his worries about it and what it could signify. If it meant Anakin was turning away from the Jedi or distancing himself in small but meaningful ways.

So of course, given the chance, he'd given Anakin a uniform of almost offensively white and beige attire. Anakin hadn't expected anything less. If Obi-Wan wanted to see him in the typical attire of a Jedi who was he to deny him for one meal? After all, Anakin had requested that the 501st's quartermaster mock up a trooper's shiny uniform for Obi-Wan to wear. He'd spent the last three hours thinking of quips to make, jokes about Obi-Wan's apparent inexperience, about his height in relation to the trooper standard.

And yet when he turns around, all those jokes die in his throat as he sees his master moving across the mess towards him, dressed only in the tight black body suit that troopers wear beneath their armor.

Anakin thinks for a wild moment that he's going to choke on his tongue.

Thank the Force that when Obi-Wan stops in front of him and finally allows his eyes to roam over Anakin's own outfit, he looks, strangely enough, just as affected.

"Oh," Obi-Wan says quietly, eyes filled with some strange emotion that Anakin instinctively shies away from. "They suit you, dear one."

"Master," Anakin replies in a voice that comes out far more strangled than he intended. "Where the kriff are your clothes?"

[nonbinaryeye]

Maybe Gortash was the first one who saw the Dark Urge as person.

Bhaal saw them only as a tool, serving his will. So did Sceletitas, he was send to them by Bhaal afterall. And also all the Bhaalist acolytes saw them as child of Bhaal first, someone to fear and worship as much as their god. Orin saw them as competition someone who stands on her way if she ever wishes to get any recognition...

And it all seemed perfectly natural to the Dark Urge, they were never used to anyone caring about them, seeing them as anything more as extension of Bhaal.

But then Gortash with his sweet-talking tries to get on their good side, ask about them and their opinion, get to know them (and yes maybe to just manipulate them later, but still) he is the first one showing care about them outside of Bhaal in a long time if they can even remember anyone caring about them outside their heritage...

[redstairs]

I feel like I'm subconsciously working out a post looking at most of the Heinrix/RT romances from the lens of Jungian psychology thing and why this one hits me so hard. So I'll just jot down some thoughts and see where this lands.

The gist of it is that it's the ultimate story of recovering the anima and animus, of becoming whole. It all starts with seeing what you have repressed in yourself in someone else - for Heinrix it starts with mercy and femininity in the Jungian sense (not femininity as painting nails, but things like mercy, receptivity and fluidity) which he has had to completely ban from himself but sees in the femRT. (Except you never destroy parts of you, you stash them far away and they do their thing inside until they come out).

Falling in love, that sort of intense flash of recognition in the beginning, is what happens when a partner becomes a good receptacle for the projection of the qualities you have not been allowed to develop. Side note, when Jung wrote, gender roles were very rigid and the emotional, fluid, feminine was for women, and men were the active, solid, expansive, today this is different but I use feminine / masculine like this. The repressed feminine part of men is called the anima and the repressed masculine part of women is called the animus.

One of the big selling points that hooked me on the Heinrix romance is how vulnerable he is - not weak though. You only gain access to his feelings as you grow closer and "succeed" in the romance. He is also capable as a fighter and interrogator though kept in the dark by his boss. For those who wonder what weak would look like, it would be same back story but not being capable like he is. Making it as a psyker and acolyte has required immense sacrifice and strength. Afaik he's a quite clear animus-coded character.

Calcazar represents some sort of super-ego, extremely strict, villainous, and who will not hesitate to sacrifice you. Same way too harsh parents or societies will have you maim your own personality to survive them.

Then we have the femRT, your self-insert. The fact that what she gets to develop is compassion and nurturance towards that repressed shell of a man, which in turn gives him control over his destiny, I think that's what hit so well and is a universal theme.

I think this triangle exists in the inner life of most people, where a sort of super intendant, a critical parent, society or environment, has hurt the psyche. Here we get to reconcile the parts of the self, and through the power of mercy and compassion, not unlike Ghibli movies. Nobody is a pushover that desperately needs rescuing, but the femRT can make Heinrix from someone essentially amputated of a part of his personality into a whole individual - this mirrors a process that a lot of people have to go through, where you must reconcile different aspects of you, including what has been deemed unlikeable. Helping Heinrix find himself is helping you grab that part of yourself and show it love and mercy.

[voskhodart]

Extremely rare instance of me drawing Veritine priests who aren't Battisto. I wanted a little something to show off the three sacred dyes and a few different mark combos.

Descriptions of the individual meanings are under the cut. It's mostly for my own reference, but feel free to read through if you're a little worldbuilding freak too. Welcome to my weird furry Catholicism.

Maculas humilitatis, the stains of humility, are a traditional Veritine fur decoration. These stains are applied to the fur as part of ceremonial processes, and their complexity & coverage may indicate an individual’s position in the Church.

(I've got a 1500+ word Google doc on this shit. I just haven't shared it yet.)

Canine with cyrellen maculas: Primary marking is a porter's cowl up the neck and head, terminating into the clerical cross. Ring/slash markings under the eyes represent vigilance and recognition of sin, both in the self and others. Hollowing stains on the cheeks represent asceticism. Double bars over the edges of the mouth symbolize restraint and dedication to confession. Rings around the edges of ears represent dedication to listening to others.

Feline with sokash maculas: Primary marking is an exorcist's shroud, covering the entire body up to the face and ears. Chevron marks on the nose represent ability to interpret doctrine or teach. Single mark on philtrum represents commitment to speaking truth.

Ram with chalk maculas: Primary marking (not shown) is an acolyte stain, partially covering the arms and legs. Thick lines from the brow to cheeks represent compassion and the burden of knowledge. Tooth-like marks along the jaw represent grief and death. Triangular marking on the nose symbolizes evangelism, with a chipped peak representing personal imperfection.

[maxdibert]

I once sat in an Catholic Studies lecture where a professor argued in all seriousness that Snape, by the end, was the most moral person in the entire series. He based his case on this passage:

https://www.biblegateway.com/passage/?search=Matthew%205:43-48&version=NIV

Snape’s the only character who comes close to ‘love thy enemy’, because he’s sacrificed his life and reputation in order to aid those who despise him or have failed him. Most of the other characters are fighting because the people they love are at risk. He shows genuine remorse, and genuinely seeks to do better. I don’t know that I wholly agreed with the professor, but it was a compelling case. If you’re a consequentialist, Snape did far far more good than evil. Saving lives > being a bitch to toads and their owners.

Having studied my entire basic education in a Catholic school, I can say that from a Christian-Catholic moral perspective—one based on repentance but especially on penance as key pillars for earning a place in Heaven and reaching God—Severus fits perfectly as the ultimate example of the stray sheep who returns to the flock. He is the prodigal son; he’s Saul of Tarsus, who persecuted and judged Christians but later became one of their most devoted followers.

From a purely Catholic viewpoint, Severus is the perfect acolyte because he embodies the teachings of Jesus, who always advocated for those who strayed from the path. In Catholic thought, there’s great reverence for those who make mistakes, choose the wrong path, but later find redemption. And it’s not just about changing one’s beliefs—it’s about taking a painful, thorn-filled path where suffering itself demonstrates one’s worthiness for the Kingdom of Heaven.

Severus doesn’t just repent; he imposes upon himself a life solely dedicated to atoning for his sins. He renounces any personal happiness or fulfillment in order to be considered worthy of returning to the “flock.” It’s a deeply Catholic figure, now that I think about it—something I hadn’t realized before, but it makes perfect sense. Maybe that’s why I find everything he does so justifiable? Probably because, even though I’m not a believer and never have been, I grew up in an environment where figures like Severus were held up as examples of unwavering willpower and strength of character.

Let’s not forget that Catholicism also praises humility and condemns arrogance. The humility of doing good deeds without seeking recognition is considered virtuous, while the arrogance of wanting to be seen as a hero is sinful. Jesus sacrifices himself on the cross under extreme torture—that’s the Catholic ideal of the martyr. Your sins are forgiven not only if you repent but also if you become penitent. Severus is the ultimate penitent figure, and I probably have a very biased view of this because of the environment in which I was raised.

I will always value the sheep that returns to the flock more than the one that never left, because the former is the one that needs help the most. That’s how I was taught—that Christ didn’t care for the rich or for those with intact morals; he sought out the poor, the accused, the sinners, because they were the ones who needed a guide.

The priests really brainwashed me, my God—but it definitely makes sense. You can take the girl out of the Catholic school, but you can’t take the Catholic school out of the girl.

[majorasnightmare]

OC Spotlight

Presenting Phyrstinnei'Draa xund Maydabreena xund Celneiune of House Vineld, Divine Soul Sorcerer and eventual Hexblade Warlock

LORE BASICS

Campaign: Out of the Abyss. Phyrnei began the campaign, not as a prisoner, but as a visitor to the Outpost who contributed to setting up the prison escape, hoping to forge an alliance with Jorlan Duskryn to seize the oppurtunity of his grudge against Illvara Mizzrym. This plan went to shit immediately as the Outpost was attacked by Chasme demons.

Name: Phyrstinnei'Draa roughly translates to Blessed Clan Wish, while 'Draa indicates shes the secondborn daughter of her House. This full name is only used in formal circumstances, and typically the middle suffix is dropped, much like the middle name is in America. This is something me and my DM decided on, given how middle suffixes are sporadically used in Drow naming conventions. House Vineld (translate: Tenders of the Arcane) venerates Phyrnei's grandmother as the Matron Mother who stabilized the Houses current social standing and set them on their current path of slowly rising prominence, so when introducing herself, Phyrnei gives recognition to the two generations before her (her mother Maybreena and her grandmother Celune)

Class: Divine Soul Sorcerer. Phyrnei was born with two exceedingly rare physical traits for a drow, having inherited her grandmothers brilliant copper hair, and being born with vivid purple eyes. Upon being born, Phyrnei immediately displayed blessed omens marking her as a powerful Divine sorcerer. These combination of traits led House Vineld to conclude that Phyrnei's birth was a blessing heralded by Lolth's favor, gracing the family (who, until that point, had yet to produce a powerful priestess and had subsisted off of the strength of their familys male wizards as desirable consorts, agents, and advisors), and Phyrnei was raised and cherished as a blessed symbol of the family's potentially shifting fortunes if they seized this oppurtunity. Recent events have given Phyrnei cause to speculate whether her sorcerous origin is truly a blessing from Lolth, or if another Divine figure is showing her favor...

Background: Acolyte. Phyrnei was raised to value familial duty above all, and despite being the House's cherished blessing, the luxuries and leniences she was spoiled with never took precedence over the responsibility she held to raise the House's standing and ensure its propserity. To that end, owing to her Divine ability, she was raised venerating Lolth and tutored in the appropriate Rites and rituals. Upon coming of age, she studied in Arach Tinilith, where her particular combination of a strong academic arcanic background, alongside a powerful Divine influence made her a perfect fit for the study of Demonology and the ritual summoning of Lolth's servants from the Demonweb Pits.

Background Extra: During her time in Arach Tinilith, Phyrnei formed a passive-aggressive rivalrly with @arach-tinilith's own Naadja Duskryn, though Phyrnei was careful never to escalate hostilities with such a notable member of a higher House. Phyrnei herself considered Naadja positively as a worthy rival to keep her skills sharp and on edge, and enjoyed their little spats, and as far as she knows, Naadja considered her the same (she does not.) While Naadja graduated as Valedictorian, before being swept up in the dangerous drama of inter House politics, Phyrnei herself graduated with the dignity and honor she owed her House, but did not distinguish herself to the same degree Naadja did, and did not achieve Valedictorian status. Phyrnei shamelessly namedropped her association with Naadja to Jorlan at the beginning of OotA to help forge an alliance.

Alignment: Chaotic Neutral. Phyrnei's home life was... unusual, compared to most Noble born Menzoberranzan Drow. Firstly, the stability of her House's position rested primarily on the skill of the House's sons more than the daughters, as House Vineld makes its living by training powerful wizards skilled in arcane magic. While it's given them stability, its an incredible tenous position, and the House strongly values duty and loyalty, severely limiting interfamily conflict. The prevailing ethos is that the House cannot afford to lose any member of the family, who could find a way to contribute to their position, and thus Phyrnei's upbringing lacked both the dismissive attitude towards drow men AND the treachery and paranoia that so often marks noble birth in Menzo (though Phyrnei is familiar with both, immersed in Menzo's culture as she is). She has the Chaotic whimsy befitting a Divine Sorcerer bearing the hallmarks of Lolth's Blessing, but its tempered by her pragmatism. Similarly, while she certainly has the upbringing of a spoiled princess, and is self centered enough to prioritize her own well being, Phyrnei is both too dutiful and mindful of others to meaningfully commit to Evil (though she certainly isn't Good), and far far too curious of the world outside the city to allow the prejudiced superiority of Menzo's culture dig its roots in too deeply. At her core, Phyrnei is a curious, pragmatic individual raised in a toxic, treacherous culture, and while she doesn't yet have reason to shed Menzoberranzan's abusive power hungry culture, its primarily lip service as shes far too socially aware to shove her foot in her mouth in a survival situation where she has to rely on a diverse group of strangers to survive travelling the Underdark

BONUS

Age: 153 years

Gender: Cis Woman (Could change)

Pronouns: She/Her

Sexuality: Pansexual. Phyrnei's main flaw is her tendency towards Hedonism, and part of that is her long list of casual lovers, drawn in by her charisma. Despite this, she has yet to have a serious long term relationship, as her arranged Fiancé was assassinated and she has yet to be arranged another.

Family: Phyrnei has two older siblings (the eldest sister, set to inherit, and an elder brother), and then two younger siblings (a brother, and then the youngest is another sister). She was born in the House Vineld compound, and was raised knowing both her mother and her father. Everyone in the family gets along relatively well with Phrynei, and is affectionate with her, and she had a relatively happy childhood and made friends easily.

Personality, Close Ups and Spoilers for Phyrnei Under the Cut!

THIS OR THAT (shamelessly copied from tag game)

Introverted/Ambivert/Extrovert

Organized/Disorganized

Close-minded/Open-minded

Calm/Anxious/Restless

Disagreeable/In-Between/Agreeable

Patient/In-Between/Impatient

Outspoken/In-Between/Reserved

Leader/Follower/Flexible

Empathetic/In-between/Apathetic

Optimist/Realist/Pessimist

Traditional/In-Between/Modern

Hard-working/Lazy

PERSONALITY EXTRA

Phyrnei pulls her personality points from both the Noble and Acolyte background tables

Traits: My eloquent flattery makes everyone I talk to feel like the most wonderful and important person in the world. The common folk love me for my kindness and generosity. I am tolerant of other faiths and respect the worship of other gods. I've enjoyed fine food, drink, and high society among my temple's elite. Rough living grates on me.

Ideals: Independence. I must prove that I can handle myself without coddling from my family. (Chaotic). Family. Blood runs thicker than water. (Any). Change. We must help bring about the changes the gods are constantly working in the world. (Chaotic)

Bonds: I will face any challenge to win the approval of my family. I would die to recover an ancient relic of my faith that was lost long ago.

Flaws: I have an insatiable desire for carnal pleasures. Once I pick a goal, I become obsessed with it to the detriment of everything else in my life.

SPOILERS

Though Phyrnei is currently unaware of it, her Divine Sorcerous power is actually through both Vhaerhaun and his sister Eilistraee. Both of them have begun to show their influence to Phyrnei as she journeys through the Underdark, and when she eventually becomes a Hexblade Warlock, her pact will be with a weapon from the two of them. Phyrnei was never blessed by Lolth, but Lolth took no steps to clarify this, as long as House Vineld continued to seek her favor to make the most of Phyrnei's auspicious birth.

Close Ups

Outfits

[mswyrr]

Wanda, Agatha, and Koril (from The Acolyte) are all witches who become pregnant and have biokid(s) without a cis man's* involvement. Koril and Wanda become pregnant with the involvement of the magically powerful women they love, Aniseya and Rio.

It's pretty cool. Motherhood is so important in these stories, but the motherhood is focused on their act of creation and what it means to them and motivates them to do vs serving as wombs for a man's genetics. Not that there's anything wrong with wanting a genetic kid with a cis man!! But, in terms of storytelling, it divorces these narratives firmly from the gravity of the long-term patriarchal idea of motherhood as an act of physical service to continuing a man's biological legacy. It cannot possibly mean that here, so that allows the narrative to freely explore everything else it can mean. That is pretty nifty and I like that there's three stories that push on that with witches in queer or queer-ish** contexts.

*Vision's gender isn't recognized in their society, he isn't even considered a person with rights (or whose partner has spousal rights) by most power structures let alone a person with a cis male gender

**See above re: the position Wanda's partner occupies inside the storyverse. I was personally moved--as a queer person--by the horror of how Wanda was denied spousal rights or even recognition of her grief over her spouse and how it echoes with terrors inflicted on queer people. I'm not saying they're ACTUALLY QUEER I'm saying it resonates and he doesn't occupy a traditional cis male character position

[stygiansun-totaleclipse]

Character Introduction: Aurynn Anouar

Age: 26

Pronouns: He/him

Height: 5’ 11 (180 cm)

A low-ranking Theian noble from a distant off-shoot of House Sunspirit, he stepped in to save you when you were 16 from your first experience in battle gone wrong. From then on, he’s been your hero. You insisted on him accompanying you back to the palace, where you had your father appoint Aurynn to the prestigious position of your retainer in honor and recognition of his deed. He has served you as such for the last six years. 

Flashy and alluring, Aurynn is an infuriating flirt, somehow balancing on the line between charming and aggravating. His propensity towards flirtation never ceases to irritate Samira, your acolyte, who he takes great pleasure in endlessly annoying. 

Despite being a noble, he hardly acts his station, something you have long learned to let go of. Flighty and carefree, he often seems to forget things a noble really ought to know, but you’ve chalked it up to his not paying much attention during his lessons. 

A number of scars mar his lithe figure; he’s explained he obtained them all in battle—which you believe is true for many of them, considering how impulsive and reckless he is on the battlefield—but some of them look a little too precise. Surgical, even. 

While he laughs most of your inquiries into his past or odd behaviors off, you’ve racked up a list of things you’ve learned not to ask about, including why he never takes off his gloves, his spacey episodes, or his migraines. 

Has the worst instant karma when it comes to overconfidence.

[savetheacolyte]

Over 60 mentions across major media outlets as one of the best of 2024 for The Acolyte!🙌

It’s amazing to see how much love and recognition the show is getting, even after everything. We’re not giving up on it, and neither should you. 💪 Keep spreading the word, keep fighting for The Acolyte—we are stronger than ever! 🔥💜

Please help us by signing the petition: https://www.change.org/p/renew-the-acolyte

And check our website: savetheacolyte.com

The Acolyte has been nominated for Best TV Drama at the Queerties Awards 2025!

How to vote? You can vote ONCE A DAY until Tuesday, February 25, 2025. Every vote counts! Let’s make The Acolyte shine!

Link: https://www.queerty.com/queerties/vote/?category_id=2517

[samheughanswife]

She came, she saw and like Judas denied attendance. Before, during and afterwards.

Tash apologists cry me a river of smuggled whisky tears. You are the sparkle lounge acolytes who strolled into my DM’s.

Next up a month long attempt to get recognition from the tall Scottish guy, her description.

Not gonna happen.

[diresquid]

I finished The Acolyte and i noticed some things that really got me and made me go crazy over that I’ll share with you all cause why not

(Warning spoilers)

Ok first of all watching the finale for the second time made me realize even more things than I did the first time like how in the beginning osha said she had a vision of Mae holding a lightsaber but not using it with her hand outstretched killing Sol and originally I thought she meant when Mae is holding the saber and then throws it aside (and maybe I’m stupid for not realizing the first time)but then I realized that the vision is actually her killing Sol herself but she thought it was Mae and I thought that was really amazing

Also how she went to the planet to save sol but that was the very thing that led to his death ( which is also like almost an exact parallel of Anakin which is beautiful)

I thought it was really interesting how at the beginning both sisters are angry and struggling with what happened on Brendok and Mae chooses to hunt down and kill the Jedi as revenge and in anger and osha tries to bring Mae to justice but at the end when the whole truth comes out Mae refuses to kill Sol and wants him to be brought to justice and Osha is the one who kills him in cold blood out of anger which really shows how the sisters have switched places over the course of the show

(Which is mirrored by the way at the end it is Mae wearing Osha’s white clothes showing her turn to the light and justice while Osha wears Mae’s black clothes and gives into her anger)

Also I love how perfectly they set up her killing Sol like they specifically have her say that she failed at being a Jedi because she couldn’t control her negative emotions and couldn’t cope with what she’d lost and she was attacking Mae with clearly a lot of emotion and then when she finds out it was Sol and that he lied to her all this time she once again couldn’t control those emotions and ended up killing him even though he was her master and she went to the planet to save him

(Also adding on that they way she choked him as she was saying how much he loved her and the way he told her it was ok basically forgiving her as she was killing him I mean he obviously made a lot of mistakes but no one can deny how much he loved her which just makes his death so much sadder cause really everything he did was for her even if he was also somewhat selfish at times)

Another thing is just how on Brendok the Jedi blamed Mae both for Osha’s sake and to hide their own actions but it all came out later and really hurt them all but now Vernestra is doing the exact same thing which is probably going to send everything into a huge downward spiral

Alright a couple things to finish up

what is Plagueis doing there??? Honestly I don’t even want to know but that’s slightly scary for season two

Also can we all agree that Vernestra’s purple light whip is cool as hell? Cause I feel like it doesn’t get enough recognition

Alright last of all rip to my favorites Sol Jecki and Yord the three of them deserved better and I wish we got to see more of them (especially jecki and yord in that manner)

Alright sorry this post got really long and it’s honestly just my ramblings that no one needs to hear but you’re getting them anyway

Enjoy