#personally i would teach my own kid my religion

[sethdomain]

if i were a parent im not sending my kid to a religious boarding school that they have to live in for years lol

[nexusnyx]

keep close | part III

Joel Miller x F!Reader [8.3k] summary: Joel was never a man of religion—thinking about the enormity of everything was not for him, but he understood the concept. Devotion. An other-worldly comfort in something, or a place. Joel had never, on the other hand, experienced religion. As he lifts his touch from your hands to explore the rest of your body, Joel is blessed, and this is holy. The air around him sizzles with everything existing between you two. 📝 This is the final part of this little story, and I hope it meets the expectations. If you enjoy it, reblogs and comments make all the difference. warnings⚠️ mature content—explicit depictions of sex, so minors dni. | 🏷️ soft!joel (he is, deep, deep inside, okay?), bathing together, slow undressing, deep talks, first time, dirty talk, begging, fingering, guided orgasm (yes, Joel Miller does walk you through it), penetration (p in v).

← part two | masterlist

Joel wished he felt comfortable in his skin.

He remembers there was a time when he did. He used to have a lighter step, lighter touch, lighter eyes.

All his edges feel sharp now, even to him—silver like steel, or the hair that glinted at him from every reflection as a reminder of why, and up until some time ago, he'd kept up a good shell. An exoskeleton of great thickness that kept him going with minimum blows to the skin.

Until a while ago, he had no reason to try being anything other than this.

Being this kept him alive, but—it would also keep him away. From Ellie. From you.

He wanted to be close to you. Closer than he admitted to himself for a long time.

As close as physics would allow, and even then, it wouldn't be enough.

He thinks about all that as he puts Ellie to bed.

Not that he calls it that. Or, god forbid, you did.

Ellie claims to be grown enough to live all on her own if it came to be, and yet, she somehow always ended up 'awakening' sometime in the night. Joel lost count of how many late-night conversations with you had been interrupted by that sight: her short, teenage frame being outlined in the darkness standing stiff and awkward, right before she blurted, "I keep hearing... you know."

Their noises.

Ellie's nightmares were about their noises. One day, you simply got up, took a deep breath, and said, "C'mon, let's go back to bed, I think you need just need some company. We can talk, if you want. Or not.."

No one — not you, not Joel — called it 'putting her to bed' because Ellie was grown, and 'far from a kid' already, as she'd put it. She didn't need some grown person talking to her until she falls asleep. It's just nice, she said. It's just soothing, because according to Ellie, they — the grown-ups — have a tendency of forgetting the 'younger folk need some stimulating conversation too, man'.

How could someone not love this kid?

Joel watches her sleeping body for a few moments. He places and tucks the blankets around her to keep her warm, and closes the door on his way out.

He hated to admit how magnetic she was at the start. It was so difficult to accept the sharp wit and horrible jokes were simply her. A part of her, born embedded in her genes just like a lack of patience, or straight hair.

When Joel opens the door to the bathroom, he's greeted by steam.

The whole place is still covered in it despite the hour of dinner.

He sees you sitting in front of the bathtub, and proudly announces. "Miss I don't need a lullaby today asked me to tell her a story," his eyes feel yours on him as he takes off his jacket.

He hears the scoff. "She's been asking me that all week," you answer with a tone that says you're behind, old man, "And she even threw the 'make them good stories, too—I don't want any boring, pg-13 rated shit.'"

"The army teaches shitty manners," he takes off the flannel jacket too and starts unlacing his boots. "She woke me up with a wet finger in my ear once. D'you know how long it's fuckin' been since someone did that? Decades. It's been literal decades."

"I think you meant to say the army doesn't teach them any manners," you say. "And hey—at least that's kind. You, on the other hand—"

"Oh, here we go," he laughs.

"—you decide to wake people by saying their name. Announcing their name, in that deep, Odin-inspired vibrato that already gives them a heart attack, and then you just," you blow raspberries in the air. "Fuck off."

He laughs. Tries his best to keep the volume low because he knows better, but laughing and kicking off his boots feels amazing.

None of you have showered since the attack.

A week was a gross amount of time to spend without a washing rag and hot water rubbing every inch of your skin, but the poor unfortunate truth of living in an apocalyptical world remained almost natural now—it was not weird to happen. Just gross.

Cleaning yourselves to the best of your lonesome abilities when there are bruises littering almost every member of your body is also a challenging task.

He's done poorly in his, and he wished bashfulness still existed somewhere in his bones for him to feel sorry about it. Instead, Joel let his body fall back with only a layer or two of clothes left in him and laid on his back on the floor.

He says, "I can't believe I'm gonna shower," fully expecting some witty remark back.

A joke. A jab. Anything other than— "Joel."

A soft, single whisper. Joel's head whips in your direction, and he almost gets up in an electric shock—your curled-up position awakens his instincts of 'cradle, cover, protect'.

Scared. Had he made a mistake? Had he jumped the gun and done something too fast? Something wrong?

Before he can jump to any conclusions, you add. "I'm gonna say this in a single breath 'cause I'm feeling oddly stupid about it and the rational, intelligent parts of my brain that know this means absolutely nothing can't find a single argument back for the question then why the hell do I still feel like every inch of my skin is a part of my insides..." you breathe in deep, and lift your head, tilting your chin high. Your eyes make sure to meet his. "I—," you choke on it once, and Joel witnesses as the blush rises from your neck, painting like watercolor its way up your skin. "I never... did anything. Nothing that went beyond sad, pathetic displays of.. what I can only call 'making out'," you laugh, humorless. "God, I feel like a fucking idiot."

"You're not," he affirms. He might be failing faintish, and his body may be running hotter than the insides of a volcano, but he'll be fine. "You tell me anythin' you wanna tell me, and I'll listen. And if you want to—"

"Don't," you interrupt him. "Don't take it back," your eyes shine at him. Don't take back your offer because it would hurt. It would kill me. "Please."

Joel would do anything you asked. "I won't."

You smile. "Thank you," you say softly. After another deep breath, you go on. "I wanted to tell because... It's only fair you know. Considering—" you swallow visibly around the word, and his body mimics the action as if you and he are your own hive of two, "I've thought about this. A lot, Joel."

A lot, Joel.

"Jesus Christ," he exhales, feeling the air punched out of his chest. He looks away from the earnestness on your face.

"And whether it's because a first impression always stays or not, I don't know, but I'm gonna remember."

And so would he.

Joel gets up from the form, his body now released from the imaginary chains that kept him bound to his place as you said your peace, and makes his way up the step to where the bathtub is and you're sitting on the floor.

It hits him that he's kissed you, and you've kissed back, and Joel's free to do it again.

The thought is what makes him sit right back you, pulling you in direction of his chest. You go easily, and it melts him more than the prospect of hot water on his body sometime soon.

"I thought you'd be happy I opened my mouth instead of stewing on stuff and keepin' it to myself and, y'know," he saw above your shoulders the way your hands did movements all over the place, and he laughed on your neck. "Didn't think you'd be this cuddly, though."

Joel rubs the bottom of his face on your skin just for that comment, enjoying feeling you squirm. "You opening your mouth is never a problem," he bites back with amusement.

"Callin' me blabbermouth?"

"Callin' you straight spoken," he corrects. "Precise."

"Awn, shucks—thanks, man," the sarcasm in your voice makes him groan. He's surrounded by smartasses, and it pains him. The laughter is nice, though; Joel guesses there are worst things than spending winter locked in a mountain cabin with someone who makes him laugh at the end of the world.

Sure, he is bruised and so many things are not right with humankind, but—not here.

He won't think about that now.

It's not his weight, just for these moments.

When you're done laughing, your body sags inside his hold, melting like snow under the Sun. He drinks it all in. "I'm aware this will be good for wounds 'n all, but I hate that I know it's gonna hurt so much the first couple of minutes that it makes me want to postpone it. What's another week without a proper shower, right?"

"Hell."

"Yeah, but so will be submersing our bodies in this," you point at the tub.

"At least it's together?" Joel offers.

Your head resting on his chest tilts up until you can look at him properly, and he's always thankful for the opportunity of seeing you smile. "That was cheesy," you whisper.

Once more, Joel sighs. He's smiling, but—it sounded so damn cute. Cheesy, accused between the lips that formed that teasing smirk, that mouth that—

Joel hates missing things.

He writes down in his mind that he will never miss your mouth; he'll always have it. If he wants it, he'll take it, and so he does.

Your face is angled, waiting for a hand of his to cup it and guide it toward his lips.

Kissing you is better than most things Joel's mind still clung to as the ones worth living for.

His personal favorite, the sun hitting skin for the first time after a long winter—it felt like that, but better.

He felt a tingle in his spine when you melted on him, prompting him to kiss harder—Joel starts moving his lips on yours and is granted with you following his lead like in the kitchen; you open up so well for him. You follow the rhythm of his tongue, and it makes it feel easy when he knows that's far from the truth.

When he pulls back, Joel thinks about what you said.

I never did anything.

Joel has to take deep breaths. You open your eyes after another heartbeat, and he's burdened with the silly need to kiss your entire face, so he does.

First the lips again. Then the cheeks, and the nose next, and you start giggling when he moves to your forehead, whispering, "tickles, Joel," but he doesn't care. There are the temples, and finally the chin, and—he exhales, smiling content at himself.

He looks ahead to the tub. It's a soaking type, made of dark wood he's almost sure comes from the forest surrounding them right now. "You think we'll fit in there?" he asks.

He feels your head moving to look, too. "It's made to fit two adults, I think."

"Ellie said it was the best bath she's had since she left the school," he shares.

Your hum of approval makes him realize just how hard this task is going to be—pun not intended but well applied. "She really needed one."

"We all do," he scoffs. Reluctantly, Joel lets go of your body to get up and finish undressing. He sees the two wood buckets you used to heat up water for Ellie's bath are full again, so he asks. "You heated up more water? Why?"

You pierce him with a are you kidding me, look. "Joel."

"Yes?"

"We need a wash, rinse, and repeat. I don't know about you, but I feel gross. Disgusting. Crusty—"

"Okay, okay," he interrupts, bursting into laughter. "I got you. You can stop tryna seduce me," he says while standing up.

Even though there's steam, he knows your blush is from him. For him. "Wasn't trying to," you argue with no heat. Smiling.

Joel is so fucked. "Really? All that sweet-talking about how much you stink had no goal?"

Your response is only a roll of the eyes, and Joel starts unbuttoning his shirt. "Hmm. Could've sworn it got me here showering with ya."

"You offered," you laugh, and then—your gaze lifts, sees what Joel is doing, and lowers, twice more bashful than before. "There was no seducing involved."

He groans in response. "Nope. 'm pretty sure your mouth was on mine. That's seducing," he states. "Hey," he calls. Your eyes find his. "You can look, 'yknow? 's nothing you won't be seein' in a second." Joel would say 'it's nothing special' but he knows you well enough. You'd hate hearing it, you'd fight him on it, so he thinks on his words. "If you want to," he adds, because fucking hell.

You do look up.

The second he feels your gaze on him, Joel's lifetime insecurities reappear from the shadows, birthing all over again like a flair under his skin.

He's okay. 5"11' of scars covering inner demons always on a battlefield, veins of whiskey, and a chest that he swore up and down would die empty.

It feels hot now. Occupied.

The shirt comes off, then the white tank top that's more a rag than a piece of clothing by now, and he only musters enough courage to look at you again as he unbuckles his belt.

The permission didn't prepare him to see you staring.

Gazing, checking him out with eyes as thirsty and obvious as a starving person being presented with a plate of their favorite food.

Joel swallows thickly around the knot that forms in his throat.

He wants to say something, but instead, he just undresses.

He wouldn't know what to say.

Joel didn't want things for two decades. He wants so much now that he feels like his body could vibrate at a frequency that would break glass.

His pants fall on the floor, and Joel stands there only in his underwear.

You swallow visibly, too. Then you look up into his eyes and say, "Permission to share a weird thought?"

That got his curiosity. You two loved sharing weird thoughts — no judgment, that was the rule — and he sees you nodding.

You start undoing your clothes as well. "You know that feeling of being so comfortable around a person 'cause they make you feel like you can be yourself?"

"Yeah."

"I always had that with you," you say. Joel removes his underwear with a single motion and tries to push down the feeling of hotness climbing up his chest. "And... I don't know if it's post-apocalyptical shit or not, but, d'you feel like you have a hunger that could never be fulfilled, ever again?"

Joel sits back down while he waits. "I do," he answers. "About everything, right?"

"Yes!" your exclamation is earnest. You get it. "I'll never satisfy any of it," you conclude. "That same feeling—that despair that a decadent world creates in you... it made me look at you and think 'I wanna bury myself in him' because—it brought me comfort? I hope that's not a too weird thought, I don't wanna freak you out or anything, but..." you shrug. He sees you trying to gather the words, and waits. "I just always had this.... feeling, this thing where I looked at you, and you're so broad, and tall, and strong," you shiver, and Joel feels his body twitching in response, "I wanted to get under your skin. Just... make myself all cozy inside you. That's probably some weird, mother-issue kind of thing, but."

It makes him laugh.

Joel looks down at himself for a second because taking in what you said and watching more of your skin become visible made his throat dry and his hands itch. "Trust me," he says. "You're under my skin."

Despite already being naked, Joel feels he peeled off another layer just with those words.

"You ready to go in?" He doesn't check for how you took the confession. He'd never said anything close to it that if he thought about it too long or too hard, something inside him would burst. "It's gonna hurt."

It takes a second for you to answer, and he's already up and dipping his legs inside when you do. "Good to know."

Nothing more than a soft whisper, and it heats up his insides better than the water.

Joel hisses in pain as his body submerges. While he alone occupies a good portion of the tub, you'll fit. A tight fit. Another knot forms in his throat.

There's the faint sound of clothing pieces hitting the floor and when he looks to the side, you're like he is—naked.

Vulnerable.

Just like him, you do it in one go, submerging your body despite the pain of the still-throbbing wounds. Your face scrunches in pain, which is the only reason he can focus on something else other than your legs touching his underwater.

The rag used for bathing is hung on the tub—clean, dry, washed.

He picks it up as you throw some water on your shoulders, and thinks about how much of you he'd like to know still.

So he asks. "Can I start?" He'd never be able to focus on something else with your hands on his body—washcloth separating the touch or not.

"You—you're actually gonna—uhm. Bathe me?"

"That's the idea, yeah. Unless you don't want me—"

"I do!" you interrupt. "I just—I thought you were only gonna clean my wounds."

There's not much space to move around now that you two are sitting, but he can move.

"No," Joel dips the cloth in the water and grabs the soap bar outside the tub. "Can you turn around for me?" He needs to find his guts first. If you're facing him, Joel will just gaze. Desire. Distract himself. "Wanna start with your back."

"'kay."

When you turn, Joel's mind goes blank.

Here he is, sharing a tub with the one person who's made him feel more human than anything else, and all he can do is long for.

His worries as he walked to the bathroom involved discomfort or tension. There's none to be found, even in the silence.

Joel sees your hair all tied up and wished he was the one to do it. "Aren't you gonna wash your hair?" he asks, and his hands start to work.

"One thing at a time, don't you think?" you chuckle. "If I was gonna do that I'd have to heat up another bath."

"Just for the hair?"

"Just for the hair. Ask El, doing this shit nowadays is a nuisance."

"I'll take your word for it," he's careful with his hands. There aren't many open wounds on your body, only splashes of purple, green, yellow, and blue. A Monet painting. "Please tell me if I hurt you."

There's a moment of silence before you answer, "You couldn't." It's the softest he's ever heard your voice, and he hears the confidence and truth in it. You don't believe he could hurt you. You're a hundred percent right, of course, but hearing it still soothes him. "But I will," you add, turning your face around to give him a smile.

Instead of returning it, Joel leans forward and kisses the lips that continue to do it—every time you confess thoughts and feelings buried in you, Joel feels something stirring inside. Being born, maybe. Growing.

You lean back to the kiss, and suddenly, your back is touching his chest. Joel makes sure to keep his hips propped against the bathtub so this is about what he said more than what he wants, but this is now his favorite position.

When you pull back, Joel feels himself smiling.

Opening his eyes, he finds you staring.

"It'll hurt when I wash that knife wound," he remembers.

Your eyebrows pierce together, recalling the gash you have on your left side. "It'd hurt more if it were days ago?"

It's offered like leverage. He takes it. "Brave one," he states. So much braver and smarter than he'll ever be—someone who still has the courage to feel what she feels and say it.

Joel hopes it'll rub off on him.

"You're the brave one," you counter. "You know... I think you never told me about what you did before all this."

He frowns. "No?"

You shake your head. Joel adds more soap to the cloth and starts washing your arms, "I used to work construction."

"Did you like it?" your body is loose in his hold. Joel holds up one of your hands and washes it slowly, back and forth, like he'll do to every part of you.

"I did. I think there's something to be said about building a home. About building good structures, y'know?"

As he cleans your body and wounds, the questions keep on coming, and he keeps on delivering answers.

For your arms, you ask about his work, and who he worked with. Joel takes note of every scar you have on your body, curious as to whether they came before or after the outbreak.

When he moves to your back and chest, you ask him about what he used to enjoy. He talks about it—trips with his brother, barbecues with friends and family, a nice and peaceful week at a distant country somewhere where he barely speaks the language, but he can get to know different cultures and people.

Joel stops when he sees the tattoo of a date under your right boob, trying his hardest to ignore the desire to squeeze what's in front of him.

Not the time. Bathe first, feel it later.

"Whose birthday is it?" he asks, putting the tip of his finger on it.

You stay silent, so he keeps on moving. He slides his hand underwater to your leg, and palming its way down your thigh and calf, he grabs hold of your foot; he's analyzing for any wounds but finds none, so he starts washing your legs.

When the answer comes, Joel's hand stops for a moment.

"It was—," your choked-up voice pulls his eyes to your face, and the sorrow he finds there makes him ache. "Oh, god."

A choked-up laughter. No humor to it, and a thousand ghosts on your face tell him he's about to hear something that'll change him again.

"You don't have to—" he starts, but you raise a hand asking for silence, for give me a second, and he stops. As long as you want to.

"We never talked about the 26th," you state. He goes back to washing your legs, shaking his head. "Can I?"

"Yeah."

"I was—" you breathe in deep, and look at him again searching for something. "I never told this to anyone."

Joel nods. "I never talk about it, too."

"It doesn't help, does it?" Your eyes are red-rimmed, and Joel notices there's much about you he never figured out. You're younger than him by a lot, but you were there.

"No." Sirens, flares of green light, and the cracking cacophony of screams and shots still wake him up almost daily. "No, it doesn't."

"I miss talking about him," you whisper to him. A tear slides down your face, and it cuts him.

Who does she miss? "Who do you miss?"

He's moved onto the other leg when you answer. "I was at my best friend's house on the twenty-sixth. She was working double shifts at the hospital to pay for—," you stop.

Joel can only take so much. He pulls you close until your face is resting on his shoulder, and he feels his eyes stinging.

He gets that. Sometimes saying a name was too much.

It took months before you heard of Sarah, and her name was all you got until now.

"Take your time," he says.

"Caio needed new glasses." Your arms wrap around Joel's middle, and he knows you'll be staying in his arms until the tale's over.

"Caio," he repeats. Recalling the roman numbers, he adds. "January twenty-five."

"Yeah. He—Caio broke his on his solo mission to find fossils in my backyard—well, technically my dog Diana was responsible, but he always said 'don't blame her, Gumma, she only wants to kiss me', so we said it was his fault."

"Gumma? Who's Gumma?"

"I am," you laugh. "He couldn't say 'godmother when he was born, so he shortened it. He told everybody I was Gumma, his s-second mommy."

Joel tightens his hold on you, suddenly very aware that he's shaking.

"He was sick," you go on. "So no school for him that day. Which means I was there. I could work from home, so Milla always called me."

"Was it just her?"

You nod on his shoulder. Joel starts rubbing his hand all over your back and he could never tell if it was for your comfort or his.

Both, probably.

"We raised him, basically," you sniffle. "Milla and I lived on the same street. She was basically disowned for her teenage pregnancy, so I told her parents they were always shitty at their job, and that unlike them, I knew what family meant, and that we didn't need them. If she wouldn't, I might as well."

Joel smiles at that. "Sounds like you."

"We moved, worked shitty jobs, and lived together for the most part. My parents helped us with bills for the most part of the first years. When—when Caio turned eleven, my parents paid for the coolest party. And—I'll never forget it, 'cause it was the last one he had, so..."

Eleven.

Joel buries his face and tears on the curve of your neck.

"So on the twenty-sixth, I was at home with him all day. Fucking hell, how unfair is that? That I got all those hours with him and—" the way you burrow your face on his throat makes Joel wish he could make you live under his skin. Protected from everything. Even memories. "When everything started going wrong, Milla was still at the hospital. She called twenty-three minutes before all signals went out to tell me that something was wrong, very wrong and that she felt we needed to go somewhere safe. She said 'babe, I want you to think of nothing else but getting to safety, d'you hear me? Go to Mr. Nunqua's house, he has a safety bunker there—go, and take Caio. I'll find you there."

Joel listens to the rest of the tale with his heart in his hands.

You got there, but Mr. Nunqua was already infected.

He was the first person you killed. His wife was the second.

You managed to get both you and Caio to the bunker, safe and sound, but it wasn't enough.

It never is.

Caio being Infected was a crueler end than anything Joel's mind came up with.

"He realized it, Joel. He noticed something was wrong, and—"

It takes a few more moments before you can finish what he already expected. "He asked me to make the pain stop before he could hurt me. He said 'please don't let me hurt you, Gumma'."

Milla found you cradling his body in your arms hours later, and that was the last you two saw of each other.

He lets you take your time to feel better before he pulls your face back to look at it.

The pink cheeks and eyes hurt him, but when he kisses your face, your lips, all he can think is how proud he is of you.

"Can I do you now?" you ask, pulling your hand out of the water in a request for the cloth.

He hands it to you, and watches as you do the same routine as he did.

In return, he asks you all types of questions.

He thought it would be hard to concentrate with your hands on him, but they're so dainty and careful that Joel feels transcendental.

No one ever took care of him like this.

Even the lovers that he once showered with, it was never this intimate.

In the bruises where he hisses in pain, you kiss somewhere else in a soothing manner. His shoulder, the nape of his neck, his outreached arm.

When the question comes, Joel is waiting for it, but he's not ready.

You answer the question about the places you've been and he replies with, "Oh, Sarah always wanted to go there. India."

"Did she?"

It's such a simple answer.

It locks him up the same. His muscles become tense, and his head shakes almost on its own.

I can't do it. He wished to be strong like you but talking about her hurts. "It hurts to talk about her. I don't—I can't."

He expects a nod, or a change of subject.

What he gets instead is you cupping his face in his hands and looking at every inch of his face.

"I know it hurts," you state. Joel, for the first time, believes someone. We raised him. You know how it feels, you do. Which is why what comes next blindsides him. "But Joel—she's already gone. I never thought I was gonna be able to speak about him with someone who understood, but—here you are. We cant—are you going to let her be forgotten, too?"

Bullets hurt less.

His body reacts for him—the inhale is shaky, almost frail. Your words hit harder than shots, but that's okay, because your inquisitive mind and sharp tongue were a couple of the reasons why he went back for you.

It was needed.

"I—" you start. Stop. Joel looks up at you, breathing out the air stuck inside his lungs, and wills himself to breathe. "You know..." your voice is quiet. "I think higher... beings or whatever—that does exist, 'cause—" your laugh is humorless. "I would totally be dead because of my stupid mouth if my path had crossed with anyone else but you."

Now he gets the lack of humor—a sad statement, but never untrue. Not even a hyperbole. Joel nods, "I'd say it's because you say things that you shouldn't, but it's the opposite. And most people don't like that."

I'm not most people, he thinks.

Thank you for saying what you did, is left unsaid. He sees in your eyes that you heard it loud and clear.

"What I'm saying is... you don't have to be ready now, but—" when you lean, his eyes close on instinct, but the kiss lands on his cheek. Sweet. Saccharine. "Please know that you can. When you want to."

He nods.

After a deep breath, you look at all of him. "I think we're clean. Next round?"

The tub is emptied, filled up again, and Joel thinks about how right you are, and how often.

The second shower will be perfect. He's clean now, but when he sits back down on clean water, it feels different.

He groans, and you laugh in response. "I know, right?"

Joel liked it better when you were fitting your bodies against each other.

The water in the tub seems to carry the tension of what you two have been waiting for. Conducting the electricity in each other's thoughts.

"What now?" you ask.

Joel knows what now. "C'mere," he pats his chest.

Like a well-oiled machine, you spin around and fit yourself against him in a second.

This time, Joel pulls you close until you're basically on his lap.

"Now this," he answers. To feel. "I think I had a dream like this once when we were camping."

"What?!"

He likes how shock always makes you look at him, even if it means craning your neck in the worst positions. He laughs. "Yeah. It was a river instead of a cool tub in a forest cabin, though."

"There's no way you—" words are cut sharp, and your eyes widen. "You did! Oh my god, you actually did. You avoided looking at my face all day for two days after that, I thought I'd done something wrong!"

He takes the hit you land on his shoulder with a smile. "You did. You sunk a knife in the middle of an Infected's head and kept me from dying."

What else could he say?

Joel shrugs. "It was hot."

He likes how you can look shy even sitting on his lap, feeling all of his body. "You're crazy," you laugh, looking down.

"Mmm. And don't you forget it," he kisses your shoulder, and that's it—that's all both of you needed to wish for more.

Your hand comes to cover both of his, and Joel is giddy with excitement when you guide his hands from your middle to your breasts.

It's silent permission. An invite.

It's all he needs.

"Can I make you feel good?" he kisses right under your ear and nuzzles his nose right there, goosebumps rising on his skin in response to your full-body shiver.

The next touches are bathed in silence.

The only sounds in the room come from the water moving with each move of both your bodies, and the soft exhale that escapes your lips.

Joel doesn't think about how long it's been since—everything feels like a first time.

A rekindle of sorts.

The hands you guided to your boobs stay there for a few moments, getting a feel of their size, their softness, how perfect they feel in his hands.

Your head drops to his shoulder, chin tilted upwards, eyes closed.

Joel thinks he's dreaming.

The faint pain in some places of his body is the only indication he has of reality.

Nothing else matters when you say, "Joel," so softly, so pleading.

"I'm here," he kisses the words on your skin. Your cheeks, temples, your shoulders that are right there. "I'm here, darlin'."

In the soft moans you let out, Joel plants a flag to signal his way home now every time he's lost in darkness.

The moans are so earnest and shaky that Joel starts trembling when you do. His hands move to explore your belly, and he pins the wound on your side as a reminder for later—it'll scar. He wants to kiss it better. Will kiss it until he's satisfied.

When his hands reach your waist, he imagines you feel his heart racing faster.

He takes his time with it, not only because you deserve it, but because it feels good.

Playing with the hair on your pussy feels good because it makes you whimper. Touching the folds with the tip of his fingers gets your legs to open a little wider until they're spread apart. Joel moans at the gesture and is gifted with another shiver. "Like this?" he asks, doing it again.

Tracing his fingertips up and down the folds.

"Joel," you grind against him, reminding him that he's here, and he's aching, too.

When you do it, your ass finds his cock hard as a rock, and it snuggles to grind on him, giving him the first feel of friction.

With another moan, Joel's lips are sucking on your earlobe. "Tell me what I do that feels good," he states.

Then he dips his fingers inside.

"No one's touched you here before?" his middle finger dips right into the core, applying pressure but not touching.

Your moans vibrate on his chest. "N-no one but me."

"Yeah?" the mental image makes him even harder. Joel thought that wasn't even possible anymore. "Did you finger yourself a lot?"

You nod frantically, pushing your hips forward, seeking more of his touch.

"Did it feel this good?" he moves his middle and ring finger up until they find your clitoris, and he starts rubbing circles on it; he pinches it, measures it with his knuckles, plays with it.

Maybe that's why you don't answer.

He'll take your moans as a good sign. Your chest is panting, and Joel feels a little drunk. He hasn't been drunk in years—no whiskey available for regular people will do that anymore; too diluted, too fake.

Your heavy breathing and nails sinking on his forearms get his mind hazy.

Joel kisses, licks, then sucks on your neck. "Talk to me, darlin'. I wanna know. I need to know."

"Joel," you say, but too loud. He uses his other hand to pinch your nipple, and the whimper you let out makes him twitch against your back.

"No screaming." Not this time. "I'm waitin' on your answer."

"I don't remember the question," you whine.

"Did it feel this good?" he pushes only one finger inside, and your mouth opens wide. Joel might not make it—it's so fucking tight and all he can think about is burying himself in it. All of him.

"Nonononono, it didn't, it didn't," you mumble.

It's a slow process, opening you up.

All the time, Joel talks in your ear about how good you're doing. "Taking my fingers so well, look at ya," he sounds drunk if he pays close attention. Two fingers fit in too tight, so Joel takes his time until he feels you opening up.

There's the grinding that never stops—the more Joel pushes his fingers in and out of you, the more you move in sync with his hand, grinding back up against him with every push inside.

It's torture. He loves every second of it.

"I want more," you whine at some point.

Joel was so lost appreciating the view of your chest painted red that he missed when you whispered his name the first couple of times.

He checks it—buries his fingers up until his knuckles, massages the spots inside of you that make you curl your toes and pull your knees up higher.

"Please," you beg.

He likes the sound of it, but he'll leave that for later.

The third finger is easier than the second—Joel feels how slick you are. He knows water bodies are not the best places for penetration, but he values your comfort more than anything right now, and in here you're both warm. At ease.

When his name starts falling from your lips like a song, Joel knows it's coming.

His other hand keeps traveling through your body—grabbing at your neck, pinching the hardened nipples of your gorgeous tits, palming through your stomach.

If his lips left your skin for longer than a minute, Joel thinks it's too much. "Yeah, yeah, I know, darlin', it's climbing up, isn't it?" he thinks addiction can be so easy. Your whines are necessary now for him, no matter what. "I wanna see it so badly." His voice had never been this low. Hoarse like sandpaper, and so filled with lust. "You're all ready for me now, d'you feel it?"

All three fingers are buried until the knuckles. Scissoring them open, pumping them against your walls in search of that spot inside you that makes you shake—Joel can barely breathe.

"D'you want more than this? Hm? 'Cause I'm in heaven, darlin'," he tells you. "All I need is to see you let go now. I can't believe I'll be the lucky fucker that gets to see you fall apart."

"Joel, I want more—want all of it, please, please—"

"I'll give it to you, I will." He'd give you anything. "You can have anything you ask me, anythin'."

"Harder—please, please, please—oh! Fuck, like that, like that, Joel."

"You sound so good moaning my name I'm gonna fuckin' lose my mind," he growls. "Do it. Cum on my fingers. Cum for me."

Joel marveled with every shake of your body. He closed his eyes and kissed the part of yours that was the closest. Your legs clamped shut around his hand, thighs shaking. At least this time, you remembered to muffle your sounds on him.

In his neck, you bit down the whispers of his name. Whimpers. Ohs,

He waited for the impossible grip to ease before he thumbed a grazing touch over your clit—just to check; to feel.

"Want more," you kissed his neck, and there was no need for all that honey in your voice, really.

Joel drank it, anyway. Licked it clean from your lips, and drowned in the way you and the water seemed to wrap him in.

"We gotta get outta the water, baby," says Joel. "'s not a good idea we do it in here."

You stopped kissing his neck, your hips stopped their motion and the little look around you at the room makes Joel's stomach feel funny. He feels almost suffocated with this need to kiss all over the red on your face.

"Uhm—are we... here?"

Joel never thought he'd live to see the day you would avoid the word 'fuck', but he smiled at it. "No, darlin', we should get dry. Put our clothes on. We can finish this in the room, right?"

You lick your lips, and then his. You bite his bottom lip, sucking it into yours, and Joel is fucked.

He melts, too. All over you, on your fingertips caressing his cheeks, on your chest pressing against his, and on the depths of your eyes as you stare deeply into his.

"'kay," you whisper. "Let's go."

Joel helps you out and loves to watch the way you gravitate toward him. When you whisper, "Do we have to put on our clothes?"

He wraps you in the towel instead of answering, and pulls you to his chest again. "Body warmth, remember?" Just for good measure, he puts the other one around him, collects all the clean clothes you had bought, and then looks at you.

"Hop on," he nudges your waist with his hands, and you get exactly what he means; your legs wrap around his middle and your arms stay firm around his neck. Joel holds you with a satisfied grunt, "atta girl."

The warmth of all of this has a price.

Joel knows it as he walks you to the room you two share, as he closes the door behind you both, as he lays your bodies on the joined mattresses, and pulls the winter blanket over your bodies.

It'd be more than a steep price.

Something on the figures of what he signed off when he took the job from Marlene—when he took Ellie out of her fingers.

Those dotted lines he signed with a blind eye. Unaware of what he was agreeing to until he Ellie's life faced danger and all the moments of every single awful joke she told, her smart jabs and the braveness in her bones to risk her life for him came back like a slap to the face, and Joel was crushed under the enormous weight of it all.

He accepted it, even if he still couldn't say it.

With you, it was almost the same.

He signed the dotted lines when he came back for you.

He couldn't know, wouldn't dream of knowing what he had signed up for until the time he ordered you to keep close and you answered with: "Always. El, you know it—between us."

Seven words, and Joel thought of nothing else for days.

Always.

For months, you never left his side.

Abided by his temper, shortness, curt words.

Spoke through his darkness and whiskey, reaching out to him the same way you did with Ellie—pulling from deep within the part of him that was still alive. Truly human.

When Joel touches all of you covered under a blanket, he wills his eyes to stay shut because if he opens them, they'll sting.

He feels too much, and it's never enough. The taste of your skin is sewn along with lines of fear, the acidic and familiar taste of I can't do it. I can't lose this. I can't lose you.

He kisses every inch.

Joel licks his name out off your lips every time they come out.

He nuzzles his face like an animal trying to imprint scent all over—from your neck all the way down to the inside of your thighs you'll have beard burns and it's okay, because you ask for them.

In the quiet, you two say so much.

Joel asked you, "you gotta keep quiet, baby, we can't be loud," and you listened, because you're so good. He says it, too. "So good, baby... you're so good," and listens to you reply with,

"You're so good, Joel. So good."

He soaks it all up until it's all mixed in his veins.

The price of hearing your sinful whisper in his ear is high. "Need you inside me," you brand in his skin. "Please, Joel?"

Joel would close his eyes and see those words—he wants to burn them behind his eyelids since they're so loud they erase everything else from his brain for a while.

He fingers you some more to double-check if you're ready and he has to talk, because, "You're so fuckin' wet, darlin', my god," he whispers in your ear, and your nails clawing at his back, digging into his skin tell him to hurry. "All this for me?"

"Please stop torturin' me," you whisper back, sounding like you're about to cry.

It's torture for both of you, so Joel lines up. He teases you with his cock, gliding his shaft between your lips, coating it in the slick that's dripping down your legs, and whispers, "You want it?"

"Joel," you growl at him.

Joel pushes in with a smile on his face and has his face scrunched in a silent smile when he slips inside. It's a tight fit at first, and Joel has to stop midway. He has to breathe.

"'m gonna go slow, 'kay?" He does. He pulls almost all the way out, and slowly pushes in again, feeling you tense around him, "Breathe, baby, you gotta breathe for me."

"Joel," you whisper. Around his cock, your cunt pulses, and he curses under his breath. You bury your whole face in his face and moan. "s big," you moan. "Feels so good."

He's only a man, you see—Joel's hands are supporting his weight on each side of your face, and they tremble.

He has to drop to his forearms and elbows, caging your body underneath his. "Breathe really deep for me, baby," he whispers, and you do it. "Close your eyes now, and relax."

The price of having you all to himself is one Joel never could afford, but one he'll spend each day of his life doing everything in his possession to pay.

His whole body shakes as you open up for him. It's a blossoming—Joel feels it around his cock the moment your body relaxes and you feel it.

Your legs wrap around him tighter.

"Move," you whisper.

So he does.

He's deeply in debt.

Joel gets lost in the feeling of how warm and tight you are around his cock, and it makes him drunk. It makes him feel like you're wrapped all around him, and Joel never fucked like this.

He could've gone a century without sex and he would remember;

Nothing felt like this.

No desire or lust or bodies aligning ever made him move this slowly, with this much pace; Joel's back must become a mural of claws being sharpened by the time you beg him to go faster, to push harder.

"'m not gonna break Joel, for fuck's sake, please," you beg as he kisses your lips and fucks you leisurely, and it registers.

Through the thick fog of everything that this is, he listens to it, and he gives it to you.

Joel has no idea how he lasts this long.

When you cum for him, it's not even because he's fucking you. He's more like imprinting the memory of your velvety touch all around him, pushing deep and hard as he caresses the sweat off your face, and he's telling you all that his lust-drunken mind is thinking off.

"Didn't think—could feel this good, darlin'." His pauses are his thrusts, and he wonders if you're listening to any of it, or is just lost on the sound of his voice. He knows you like it. "You like—the sound of my voice—don't you, baby? I know you do." Thurst—and deep, and fuck, "I'm—so fuckin' lucky—look at you—look at how good—god, you're gonna kill me, baby—"

He dies a little death when he feels you start shaking.

All you.

His name spills from your lips and your nails dig in deeper than ever before, and that's what does it, what drops the pin and makes the ball of knotted tension that kept him high burst—Joel has only the notion to pull out before he cums, but he cums so hard that he loses sense of everything for a moment or two.

Your hands are soothing his face when he comes back to it.

Joel feels like a whole person for just those hours with you in the dark.

With you, he realized something—while Joel's skin may offer him little comfort, yours does.

The soothing peace that comes with feeling that again, comfort, makes Joel breathe out and close his eyes without his chest tied in one big knot for the first time since... it. He is alive. However that came to be, or why, he'll never know, but your words are a mantle of truth that can start bringing peace to his inner war of two continuous decades now—he can either keep living and burying everything: Existence, hopes, feelings, love, memories, her, her—Sarah;

or... he can live.

Joel wants to live. With Ellie, with you. He pulls you closer, and focuses one last second to hear the certain sound of Ellie's pencil furiously creating something on paper across the thin wall, and he sleeps.

📝 So. I gave the old man some love and some peace (that he deserves) because I watched him lose yet another person this Sunday and I was hurt. What did you guys think? :)

[singular-ghost-sound]

Hi there, my lovely friends! I kindly ask that you read all the way through as this post is about KOSA

I would also like to apologize in advance for any grammar or spelling mistakes. That is unfortunately not my strong suit lol also, please send me any updated information that anybody has. As unfortunately, I am very bad about getting any information as I am not allowed to have discord and be in the anti-KOS a discord chat. 😭

Hi! My name is Bella, and I run The one, and only singular ghost sound gimmick blog on Tumblr :D

A fun fact about me I am a queer teenager who happens to live in a very homophobic part of the US, and in a part of the world, that would be directly affected by the KOSA act 

Thankfully—as far as I’m aware with my own research and what I’ve read— I would not personally be as much affected by the kids on the safety act in the same way that other people would be. As I fall just outside of the age that the bill is meant to affect the most (16 and younger)

However, my two younger brothers, both who are in the LGBTQ community would be.

Now for those of you who don’t know what the kids online safety act (KOSA) is:

The kids online safety act is in law currently being discussed in the Senate of the US that would make it to where parents and the government would have full control over what anybody under the age of 16 could consume on the internet.

This would mean things like

LGBTQ representation, POC representation, mental health resources, certain religions, and information about anything, considered taboo in any way, shape or form, would no longer be accessible to people who are under the age of 16. And on top of that online safe places would be completely eradicated.

 The kids, online safety act we take away the safe place of MANY people in the world. Including those over the age of 16, as the Internet would be HIGHLY restricted.

I grew up, lucky enough that I had parents that were willing to share with me and my siblings about sex, Ed, the LGBTQ+ community, many different religions, the good, and the bad of history, and many different things. 

There are so many people that I know personally, who did not grow up with that kind of family. So many people who would have been kicked out if their family knew that they were gay or trans in any way shape or form.

There is so many people that I know who has been physically mentally or even sexually abused by guardians and people who should’ve protected them, and who only learned what happened to them was wrong BECAUSE of the Internet.

I know so many people who only learned about what safe sex was because of the Internet, or through ME as they did not have people who would’ve been willing to teach it to them.

The kids on the safety act would take away so much from the people who really need it the most. And on top of that, it would give their parents or guardians access to all the stuff that they see online.  and so they would be unable to access any safe place on the Internet. 

KOSA is designed not to help those who were accidentally or purposefully coming across porn and access to drugs and other illegal things.(like the people in power saying it is)

But is designed to keep those who need LGBTQ representation or POC representation in mental health resources from getting the Information and representation that they need.

I am urging everybody to please contact your senators, and have your family and friends, contact your senator and ask them to say NO to the KOSA bill.

Please know that you don’t need to have a long lengthy speech. They don’t act on those. They act on the quantity of what they get about the same subject.  

I would also like to GREATLY thank @dragonoftheunderground for letting be know that this was back. So ty my friend :D

Ty for reading :D here are some ghosts for the long post :D



[peachesofteal]

i would love a book recommendation list from you whenever you have the time to write one up :-)

Hi! I put together a list of everything I've personally read and enjoyed. Please remember these are my personal recs. To each their own. These are fantasy/high fantasy recs only, and one science fiction because I cannot resist talking about Dune.

Mistborn (7 books split into two eras) and The Stormlight Archive (4 books) - Brandon Sanderson - Just read them. I can't even begin to cover the way I have consumed the Cosmere (his multiverse). Complex magical systems that make sense. These are my number one recommendation.

The Poppy War (and it's two subsequent books)- R. F. Kuang - technically it's military-ish fantasy. The magic blends really well and I didn't put these down. I loved how Rin was more morally grey. It teaches, too.

Wheel of Time (sixteen ish books) - Robert Jordan with an assist from Brandon Sanderson at the end - one of my favs. Typical hero stuff but I love the world and the magic system. I watch the show too, and would recommend if you want to get a little excited about reading them. This series ruined me for a while, it was really hard to get into anything else.

Malazan - ten books - Steven Erickson. I read these a while ago but they’re very engrossing.

The Priory of the Orange Tree (and A Day of Fallen Night) - Samantha Shannon - I devoured these! Really liked them. Sometimes the pacing is a little weird but… would recommend.

All Souls Trilogy - Deborah Harkness - okay it’s historical fantasy but definitely check these out. Witches, vampires, demons… dark haired love interest and Deborah Harkness really weaves the history so well, I loved them. She has an additional book in this universe that I didn’t like so much BUT she has a new one coming out soon and I’m excited.

And finally... Dune - Frank Herbert (only, NOT the books his kids wrote. So six titles, ending with Chapterhouse: Dune) - Science Fiction. If you’ve seen the first movie you more or less than know the premise but I promise you there is so much more. I am aware that some interpretations of this story reduce it to a white savior narrative but that’s simply NOT the case and you would have no idea unless you actually read the full six books.

Last thing: I don’t recommend jumping from series to series. Take a break or read a romcom. These stories are deeply detailed and very engulfing. Learning new worlds, magical systems, religions, races, etc when you change books can be confusing and do a disservice to the book and yourself. “The first book” in a lot these can be hard to chew or digest because you’re learning so much, so keep that in mind! 🩵

[somenerdfromwhatever]

Nex didn't deserve to die.

Warning: This is a massive rant that deals with heavy topics. It's long, it's blunt, but I want to share this because quite frankly, it's sickening and I want to use my platform for good.

On February 19th 2024, I heard something that really drove me and others up a wall:

Nex was brutally murdered by 3 female bullies in their school all because they are human. With no help from their own school system to save them, it's no surprise why they deserve the criticism for their inaction.

Now why did I say, because "they are human" instead of "they are non-binary"? I'm not denying they are non-binary, as a non-binary myself it is disturbing to hear such awful news. I am not ignoring this critical information. They are valid.

Truth is, I want to highlight their HUMANITY because the LGBT community are humans like you.

I never met Nex personally, but I feel a deep connection with them as a fellow non-binary person. I know what it's like to face bullying, harassment, and discrimination for being who I am. Even before I came out as non-binary, growing up with autism, I know the pain. Middle School was a pain for me because of it, it led me to hate myself. I know what it's like to live in fear and pain, to struggle with self-acceptance and self-love. I'm happy that their family accepted them for who they are and I feel sorry for their loss as well. This shouldn't have happened.

The more I think about this, the worse it gets. If Nex was not non-binary, if they were just another student that day, how would the public react? Everyone would be outraged and demand justice! But because Nex was non-binary, I have seen a lot of people, a lot of DISGUSTING people, say that they deserved it and that they were NOT HUMAN. In fact, that is why I hooked y'all's attention by saying that they are murdered because "they are human". I want to make this clear: Regardless of gender identity, Nex's inherent humanity is first and foremost.

As I see those countless comments pile up minute after minute, hour after hour... all I can mutter is "why?"

How can anyone promote and celebrate a death of another human being for just being themselves? How can anyone love to deny the humanity of others because they expressed their souls for who they are? How can anyone celebrate deaths of others who love the same gender, who become trans, or non-binary? Even after everything is set and stone, literally how?

And if these "people" who hate them do believe in some god or religion, why would they be hypocrites to their own god? Didn't their god say "Love thy neighbor", and "Don't bear false witness"? How can they claim to follow their faith, when they violate its most basic principles? I have a dad who practices religion sometimes but not a lot, I told him about this and the hypocritical nature of some of these people. The best way he worded it is this: "they can't claim to love god if they bastardize their teachings. God will roll their eyes and send them straight to hell."

Is this what humanity is now? Celebrating the death of innocents who their "crime" is living their best life?

There is no political two-sided debate on this issue. In fact, THERE NEVER WAS.

We are human, just like everyone else. We are human, and we matter.

And if I can for a moment, I notice a common theme here when it comes to these horrendous acts:

For a lot of these people that hate the LGBT community but love freedoms like free speech, it is pretty telling how much these people care about themselves and not practicing what the constitution preaches. It's hilarious yet baffling. Remember the book bans? They love to say it's to protect the kids but their ulterior motives prove otherwise. They targeted government public libraries all across the country claiming that books who celebrate being different are a "cancer". It wouldn't be surprising if they cheered for KOSA, a sweeping censorship law masquerading as child protection, but in reality, aimed at tightening control over Americans like myself to limit our expression. They want to censor and silence our stories, our voices, our experiences. They want to erase and deny our existence, our diversity, our humanity. They want to ban books that feature stories that say it's ok to be different. They want to forbid us from wearing clothes that express our gender identity or challenge gender stereotypes, even if they are harmless and comfortable. They are afraid of "drag", which is just fabric and makeup, which is hilarious how they managed to get so worked up on that.

Even more hilarious is the fact that they "claim" to hate China, Russia, and other authoritarian countries for their censorship, but they are damn eager to emulate it here in the "land of the free". Passing laws that blatantly violate our rights and our constitution every day. How do they not see the irony? It's pretty god damn telling right? Almost as if their version of "freedom" is not free for the people, but free for themselves. Freedom of expression is not selective, it is universal. If you respect the right of others to have different political views, you should also respect the right of others to have different identities.

"Land of the free" am I right? By expressing these statements, you really are no different from the countries you claim to hate.

This world is a cruel place, and the people that are cruel are the most pathetic people of all. Especially those that:

Be afraid of people using rooms with toilets all because they are different.

Be hateful and violent towards people who are different from them.

Be ignorant and arrogant about the diversity and complexity of human nature.

Be offended over people wearing fabric and clothing that is different from the norm that promotes their expression.

I’m not taking this post down. Say what you want on what I think, but we tried explaining this to you many times, the facts are all there clear as day and clear as crystal.

We are human.

Rest in Peace Nex. May justice come to those that wronged you.

[queen-beefcake-sqx]

Please do your Sanctifying Kim Take!

Perceiving that man through HDB coloured glasses put me off of most fandom depictions of him. Not to mention how absolutely tiny he's depicted when he's of completely average size. (2-3inches shorter than Harry who is above 6ft. Like I get people do be havin size kinks, but that man's not short)

Canon Kim is the most trigger happy cop depicted in the entire game. He shot 6 kids people between working in juvenile detention and processing, is a severely repressed speedfreak with unprocessed grief (still working Dom's cases) and a wild card (not above using Harry's amnesia to manipulate Joyce when he knows him for a couple of hours), who can maybe have 2 Auth over world soggiest superstar but let's be honest don't we all?

He is so petty that he will die in the tribunal if you give away his pen lmao. Like that man is literally two steps above Harry when it comes to being a weird cop, and that's being lovingly understanding. He needs Martinaise just as much as HDB does.

op I am holding your face gently and shaking like a wet chihuahua. you, you get it.

Here’s my thing — as a general theme, I’ve noticed fandom takes seem to lean into the belief that because Harry’s deification of Dora crashed and burned so spectacularly, that (1) deification of Kim would be just as unhealthy and (2) Kim would outright reject that kind of worship.

And like. Okay. I can see how you’d make a case for that, sure. Except as you pointed out Kim is actually really fucking weird, and damaged in his own way, and most importantly — Kim wants to be cool. There’s a purple check that outright states Kim values being perceived as cool FAR MORE than he lets on. I’ve already written a post that mentions how significant it is for Kim that Harry thinks he’s cool, and what I’m gonna say next is an extension of that:

I think, somewhere deep down and repressed, Kim would actually love being deified by someone, and if Harry put in the work to have a healthy relationship with religion, they could actually make that dynamic work.

Long thoughts and explanation under cut:

Alright a little background on me: I was raised Unitarian Universalist and have a history of deifying my lovers. Harry’s anguish over Dora was very heartbreakingly familiar (although I didn’t destroy my life quite as spectacularly), and the way Harry uses inquiry to engage with belief systems (personal, political, scientific, and religious) is VERY Unitarian. One of our precepts is literally the constant and continuous search for truth and meaning in the world, and that’s Harry’s whole MO. So a lot of this is personal experience coloring interpretation.

A few years ago I wrote a piece of meta about why Tian Guan Ci Fu, a novel about a worshiper’s love for a prince turned god, is better treated as a fairy tale instead of a typical character-driven novel. I bring this up because in the meta I set forth that there were three really big themes that the story teaches us about divinity:

Books Two and Four encapsulate Xie Lian’s biggest lesson - that no one person can hope to end all suffering, even a god, and that putting a person on a pedestal places unachievable expectations upon them.

The rest of the books deal with two different but tangential lessons — devotion means seeing the best in people, regardless of their flaws; devotion also means inevitable destruction when you are not valued to the same degree.

I bring this up because, incidentally, these are the EXACT same themes that Disco Elysium deals with in regards to deification and devotion. I firmly believe the rest of the text about Innocences corroborates this, but even just looking at Harry and Dora, these themes are SCREAMINGLY relevant. Harry destroyed himself when Dora, his Innocence and god, left him. Their relationship was never really equal — there was a class difference, the abortion and difference in want for parenthood, the fact she walked out on him at least one before. Harry placed Dora on such a high pedestal that he set her up to fail him when she couldn’t handle Harry’s addiction and deteriorating mental health at a job she encouraged him to pursue.

Because a really important caveat about those themes I didn’t elaborate on — “regardless of flaws” doesn’t mean never acknowledging them. I really think Harry got into his head that Dora could truly do no wrong and found himself increasingly hurt and floundering when she proved just how wrong that was, and instead of acknowledging things they BOTH needed to work on — to do better, to improve, to grow — Harry got angry, resentful, and depressed and Dora got out of there.

And I don’t blame her, nor anybody else who did the same. I don’t blame Jean’s anger with Harry’s carelessness with his life, even if the way he expresses it is actively harmful. But the problem is Harry is a vast, vast soul — he feels things very deeply and extremely. I like fics where he learns to work through it and love a person to a Normal(tm) degree, but there’s a part of me deep down that feels like that is impossible for him. There is vitriol or there is devotion and there is little to nothing in-between for him, and for him a healthy relationship isn’t less devotional/religious as much as it is reconceptualizing what it means to be divine — stealing from my TGCF meta, he needs to remember that deities were human before they were ever his god, and as someone who’s worked as a cop, he should KNOW how messy humans are.

And minus himself, fuck if there isn’t a human messier than Kim Kitsuragi.

I’ve written a bit about Kim’s self-image and the significance of Harry finding him cool before. Kim is honestly a mess. He’s implied to be still struggling with the death of his partner some time in the past, is trigger happy and hates it, and is also implied to be ostracized from his coworkers. Kim does his job because he genuinely thinks it’s one of the only ways he can do good under a military regime that’s got airships ready to attack at a moment’s sign of rebellion. He smokes one cigarette a way to challenge his own volition and give off an air of untouchability because he has to be cool, he has to, he has no power in his life if he doesn’t!

But I genuinely believe that cool is tested at every turn, and I think there’s very few people who see the cool without seeing everything else about him — all the things he’s ashamed of, that make him feel lesser or othered. And Harry sees all those things over time, with a thorough enough run — he learns about “Kimball” and the bad eyesight and his fierce protection of his status as a “true Revacholiere”.

But it’s day one that Harry can call Kim cool. Regardless of flaws you uncover or not, Harry can see Kim as someone to be admired. Because that’s what Harry does with people he likes. And when was the last time anyone called Kim cool and meant it genuinely?

I think it’s noteworthy that Kim tries to stay humble when Harry gets excited about Kim — he downplays himself or pulls Harry out of flights of fancy about the degree of his “coolness”. He reminds Harry that he’s human… even if inwardly he preens at praise and recognition. (I’m too lazy to go through the Fayde viewer right now to back myself up, but just really pay attention to his Empathy checks sometime). Kim keeps Harry from constantly putting him on a pedestal like he did to Dora.

It’s also noteworthy that regardless of what a hot mess you are re: addiction, Kim still respects you as a detective and will defend you to your precinct. Remember that third theme, about relational devotion? Devotion doesn’t work if you’re deifying someone who doesn’t respect you, and thus won’t hold you to the standard of their divinity. There’s a thing in teaching where teachers want to shy away from difficult or disruptive students, thinking we’re accommodating them when in reality we’re not challenging them and are disrespecting their right to learn. Respect also means setting boundaries and trust, and I don’t know how much of either Dora and Harry had by the end.

Kim sets boundaries right off — No, we will not talk about the pissing contest until the field autopsy is done, don’t even try asking again. Yes, I do think now is a bad time for a drink and you should stop being careless with your life. No I will not tell you a secret about myself. Kim isn’t afraid to draw lines in the sand with Harry, because not only does he respect himself, but he wants to see that Harry respects him, too.

And in exchange, Kim displays his respect openly in front of peers — in front of the organization he’s worked to protect his reputation within — to defend Harry. Known drunk, bad-cop-or-cop-with-bad-days, sad sack Harry Du Bois. It’s acknowledgement from the object of his devotion that he’s done good work and can do more, if he keeps putting in the work to get better.

The point is — I don’t think Harry can change how he loves people, I think its just inherent to who he is as a person, but devoting himself to the altar of Kim Kitsuragi might actually work, if only because Kim wants that worship and will hold Harry accountable for not letting it consume them both.

[she-posts-nerdy-stuff]

Hi!! this is a kinda random question, but I was just thinking about it. So we know that the Druskelle (and presumably most of Fjerda) are bigoted, racist, etc.. Does that stem from their culture and like the wars and stuff or is that part of their religion? I guess hypothetically could Matthias/Maya/your other Fjerdan ocs have corrected their prejudices and still believed in Djel or do the two beliefs contradict? Just wondering what your take is :)

Hi, thanks for the ask!

I absolutely adore religion in the Grishaverse and a while ago I wrote quite a long analysis on Matthias and Inej's relationship with their respective religions, mostly focusing on Djel since I feel I know more about Fjerdan religion than Ravkan having read the soc duology a lot more times than the other books, and I talked quite a bit about some of these things so I'll link that here in case anyone is interested and below I'll put a couple of quotes from that more specifically pertaining to what you've said here. Essentially, I believe that the Drüskelle order is a cult and represents a warped version of Fjerdan religion and that Matthias' journey of self-discovery and of learning to find the version of Djel that he believes in and that aligns with who he wants to be is one of the most beautifully written character arcs I have ever read.

Some quotes from my previous analysis:

"Theoretically, the Drüskelle are raised (forced) to believe the same basic principles of the religion that most of the religious people in the country are [...] However, what’s taken completely further is that the Drüskelle are told that the only way to be truly respected by their god is to take decisive action against Grisha people for their power, because it’s “demonic” and a warping of Djel’s gifts. Now first of all, none of the religious teachings we learn about as the reader even remotely suggest this, which suggest that it’s a baseless prejudice for which religion has been used as an excuse for so long that it’s become culturally ingrained and believed."

"Matthias even shows particular pride that he was personally told the secret of the second glass bridge by Jarl Brum himself"

"And this is the thing, ok, because by claiming that Djel will show the boys the path and then telling them himself (!!!!!!!!) Brum is claiming far more power than a servant of Djel and or Fjerda. No, now he turns himself into a messenger of Djel, a prophet if you will, just to reaaaalllly double down on that religious trauma he’s giving these kids. He is putting himself into the Messiah-like position; he’s saying that Djel sent him to them to tell them that they must kidnap and kill people to earn his love."

"in his own practice Matthias would appear to see Djel as a benevolent god"

"presented himself as a Messiah-like figure and effectively forced these young boys to believe that betraying him is akin to betraying Djel"

Okay I'm restraining myself from adding more to that list because I'm just sitting here reading through the original analysis going "ooo add that" "and that" "that too" and I'll just end up copy and pasting the whole thing if I carry on like this, so if you'd like to read more I should've linked it at the top :)

I'm gonna talk a bit about Djel and relationship with religion in terms of my Fjerdan OCs here, if anyone is interested but hasn't read the fic you don't have to have done to follow the religion info but it's worth knowing that it's set almost entirely in Ketterdam and takes place nearly 10 years after Crooked Kingdom :)

For my Fjerdan OCs religion is very much on my mind whenever I'm writing them, and I find it a very interesting thing to consider. So, I have three Fjerdan OCs in Daughter of the Rain and Snow: Maya, a Tidemaker and our titular character, Celina, a deceased (pre-events of the fic) otkazat'sya whose body was burned and who therefore cannot reach Djel, and Fiona, a Heartrender who lost her relationship with religion a long time ago and has no interest in taking it up again. I'm going to start with Fiona because I haven't really explored her relationship with Djel very much since she has had less scenes than the others thus far, but I tend to have quite fleshed out backstories for my side characters even if they don't make it into the story lol

Fiona is 22 during the events of the fic and has been working with Inej and the crew of the Wraith for almost four years. She made her way to Ketterdam at 17 after her family discovered she was Grisha and threw her out. In a desperate attempt to flee Fjerda - and notably not knowing any Kerch language - she signed an indenture contract with a Kerch merchant who offered her safe passage to the country. She did not know what she was signing, and her contract was written in Kerch, but she just wanted to get out of Fjerda as quickly as possible and this seemed like her only option. She was freed and ended up working with Inej when she was 18. Fiona had battled with her relationship with Djel for a long time after discovering she was Grisha and keeping it secret, but when her parents learnt the truth and started abusing her and eventually turned her out with nowhere to go and no protection to be found she adopted atheism completely, akin to the way Kaz and Wylan found their atheism. -

“Saints speed,” she said to Inej, who echoed the words she knew were said for her benefit alone.

Fiona had given up on Djel, the god she was raised with, and had no interest in taking up another. (Chapter 8) (I feel so weird quoting my own writing)

Religion is very much at the forefront of everything I write considering Maya and Celina, particularly since Celina only appears as a character in Maya's POV chapters (she exists more as a concept to Kaz, Inej, and Aimee, who connect her to things she represents to each of them but whom they never knew as a real person). Maya battling her relationship with Djel is very much in the forefront of the story and one of my favourite chapters is when she goes back to the tree she cut down in anger and prays for it; the chapter is essentially a long monologue of Maya talking to Djel and voicing every side of her argument out loud. I won't list everything here but I'll add this quote from the chapter:

“I’ve tried it every way,” she whispered, failing to fight the sobs that were growing in her throat, “I ignored it, I tried not to use it, I used it for others, I used it for myself, I used it for You. And I have somehow failed You every time. Maybe I deserve to burn now, but they say you are born Grisha. Did You really look at me and always know I would deserve to burn? From the very moment I was born? Perhaps this is all I am in Your grand tapestry of destiny; a game for You to play, a doll that You can take apart and stitch together at wrong angles. I am a broken toy that can be discarded and burnt whilst the world moves on as though I were never here. I made the wrong choices, but I thought they were the only ones left. You could have let me stay at home. You could have let her live - let both of them live. And I never would have done anything like this. I’m so sorry…” her voice broke and she felt the tears flooding over her cheeks as she collapsed over the ruined tree trunk and cried into its empty flesh, “I’m so sorry,” (Chapter 66 on tumblr, chapter 67 on AO3)

And the chapter ultimately ends with Maya asking Djel to teach her how to deserve forgiveness from Inej and the other characters for everything she'd done, or to at least teach her how to forgive Him.

I think one of the most important aspects of religion in terms of this and in terms of Maya and Celina's relationship with each other is that even though Celina knows Maya is a Tidemaker neither of them ever talk about it and Maya reached a point where she was actively afraid to bring it up because she didn't know how Celina felt about Grisha and she didn't want to jeopardise not only what is the only relationship she has with anyone right now but arguably what is the first relationship she's ever had that wouldn't be considered abusive (her relationship with her father is kinda up in the air, I know, but considering that he sold her I don't think it's a spoiler to say I hate that man's guts even though y'all have a little bit more to learn about him yet) since realistically Celina was the only person she had a real conversation with for three years and the only other people she spoke to in that time would be clients, Yennefer, and occasionally other girls at the Tulip Mill. Maya even saw Yennefer's death more as vengeance for Celina than she did for herself, saying that Yen's death was for Celina and Kaz's death would be for her before she finds out that Kaz was partially responsible for Celina's death in the worldview that she holds - and as Kaz considers himself no less responsible for her death than Rollins was for Jordie's. I don't know if I'm explaining it quite right but the fear that Maya developed surrounding other people's perspective on Grisha power preventing her from being able to share her feelings with Celina I found a really heart-wrenching detail to write and I was definitely hoping to present the idea that even if religiously the ideas don't contradict - considering that we see Celina adapt her belief in Djel to say that anything that she does at the Tulip Mill will be forgiven because she has no choice over it - culturally speaking it's still such a complex and difficult thing to move past that Maya isn't even sure she can ever express it to the only person she trusts, and I also hoped to touch on this idea with the flashbacks to the Ravkan boy at the Grisha workshop with Maya who didn't trust her because she was Fjerdan even though she was Grisha and had literally fled Drüskelle and her home country

Anyway I hope this made sense, it's starting to feel very rambly and random, and I hope that it was interesting to read. Thanks so much for teh ask and for your interest in the fic! <33

[idkjustletmescroll]

I've been really embroiled in hotd fandom lately, and I switch teams by the day based on vibes and vibes alone, but I always felt so bad for alicent hightower, and I just thought I'd talk about something I've seen a lot--the idea that alicent is raising her kids as hightowers or is preventing them from learning about their targaryen culture.

Probably a lot of this comes from Alicent praying at the dinner and putting up religious symbols instead of Targaryen heraldry, but...there's nothing really to suggest that Alicent's kids have no knowledge of their targaryen heritage?

Alicent suggests the prayer at dinner and Viserys agrees that she should do it...which I personally thought implied it was just their habit to let Alicent pray before eating. Was it just me? And we can point fingers at Alicent for a lot of things--the main thing that gets me is the whole asking-for-joffrey-right-after-rhaenyra-gives-birth thing--but wanting to practice her faith in her own home isn't one of them, like...? The same goes for wanting to teach it to her kids. (If Viserys didn't want it that way, maybe he should've been more involved with his kids, idk). Sure, they're Targaryens, but they're also Hightowers, and it's hardly a crime or an insult or a scheme for Alicent to want her kids to have some of that with them. And we know that Aemond, at the least, is fluent in High Valyrian, so she at least wasn't stopping them from learning about their valyrian heritage--also, marrying sisters to their brothers is literally the most traditionally Targaryen thing ever, whatever your opinion on heleana and aegon's relationship is. Did my girl heleana deserve better than a rapist? Yeah. Does alicent only embrace "queer targaryen customs" (if I were living in westeros, I would also constantly wonder wtf is up with these dragon riders and their sexual attraction to family members?) when it suits her? Likely.

But like...we can have those discussions all day, but the fact remains that IT IS NOT AN INHERENTLY BAD THING for Alicent to try and educate her kids on their mother's religion and culture. I get the Hightowers don't have dragons, but it's still valid. We don't get any actual evidence that Alicent is actively trying to prevent her kids from learning about their targaryen culture.

idk if this counts as being "team green" or whatever cause people get way too obsessed with these teams, but like...team asoiaf women deserve better, ig.

[peach-and-bugs]

I have been wondering what you think the girls would study in college (if they were teenagers in 2021 and no crash happened) (including Jackie obvs)

oooo! This is actually such a fun idea!!! I'm also adding Laura Lee bc she deserves it and I love her! I also kinda went into what they would do with their degrees after school

What would the Yellowjackets study and major in college (no crash)

tw: religious themes with Laura Lee

Jackie

✰ So, Jackie is a hard one. She's the kind of girl who goes into school thinking she's got the world figured out, only to realize that no, she doesn't, and get hit with quite a rude awakening

✰ She'd go in choosing something rather ambitious, having a hard time with it, and possibly taking a gap year to figure herself out

✰ Ultimately, I could see her as an early education major. She didn't think it would be something she'd enjoy, but to her surprise, she does, and eventually, once she graduates she becomes a kindergarten teacher at Wiskayok Elementary

Laura Lee

✰ Laura Lee Is so dedicated to her religion, and I have to have respect for that. But I could easily see her going into youth ministry with a degree in theology and possibly a minor in religion studies

✰ However, I could also see her minoring in music because of her piano! While she doesn't like her teacher much, I really do think Laura Lee enjoys the piano itself and I could see her leading a youth choir in her church

✰ She's definitely working in a progressive church. personally, I think she was raised to be more conservative, but in a world where she gets to go to college and grow more away from her family, she developed her own opinions and becomes a far more open person, viewing god as someone far more excepting then what she was initially taught

Lottie

✰ I fully see Lottie going to college knowing from the start that she wants to study teaching/education. She'd go back and forth about wanting to teach little kids and older kids, but she'd ultimately settle on teaching middle schoolers

✰ I could see her being an English teacher or possibly a history teacher! She loves connecting with kids and giving them a voice and lending an ear, especially with them being at such a frustrating age

✰ I can also see her minoring in French! Yes, Lottie isn't supposed to be good at French, but I think that's a complete lie. If her school doesn't have a French program, she'd 100% start an after-school club or run summer classes for students interested in learning

Misty

✰ I could see Misty sticking with nursing, but she's also a giant theater kid. She seems like the type to go to a small liberal arts school for musical theater or improve with huge dreams of acting on stage

✰ I really think she'd find a great community in a theater/arts program because even though she's always gonna be a weirdo, she'll definitely find more weirdos to be her friends (this is coming from someone who has theater majors as friends)

✰ This could be some of my own self-projecting, but I think she'd get really involved in the nightlife of college and eventually frequent the drag scene with her friends. She's also always going to rocky horror. Ultimately that's how she realizes she's gay

Natalie

✰ I think the only way Natalie is going to school is on a full-ride scholarship, but even then, college doesn't seem like her thing. I could see her following one/some of the girls to their college campus to screw around and figure herself out, living some of the college life without actually going to school

✰ Natalie would try to pursue a music career, no questions asked. She's shown to have a love for music and she already looks like a rock star, so it just makes the most sense for her. She'll crash on couches, eventually getting her own apartment while she writes her own music and I think she could eventually really take off

✰ she'd get a band together and eventually tour, writing music kinda along the lines of classic rock and grunge with some riot girl in the mix. Think pearl jam, foo fighters, and le tigre (all great groups that I highly recommend)

Shauna

✰ Shauna is 100% getting a Literary Arts degree, no questions asked. Or an English degree with a focus on creative writing

✰ She gets to explore herself, take her semester abroad in Paris like she'd hoped, and eventually she becomes a New York Times bestseller for her works of poetry

✰ She'd also delve into fiction and I could even see some of her work getting turned into limited series or films eventually. She's quite humble and lives a quiet life, though she enjoyed being in the spotlight for her work

Taissa

✰ I still think Tai would study law and become a Lawyer and potentially still go into politics. But part of me kinda wants to say she'd take an interest in environmental science and possibly become an environmental lawyer?

✰ I really don't know why I thought of that, but I think it would be really interesting for her. I think she'd still end up with Simone and Sammy and she'd go to New York for work a lot of the time

✰ If she did run for office again, she'd have a heavy focus on environmental conservation. I could also see her getting into National Park works

Van

✰ So, originally I kinda thought Van would be a dropout, which sounds bad, but I was thinking about her store. But then I realized that she'd only got her store because she was stuck trying to relive her life before the crash, so no crash, no store

✰ Ultimately, she's a film major. She's either getting a film studies or production degree. Van loves movies and would want to get involved with that world, creating movies like what she grew up watching, like The Goonies and Alien

✰ She absolutely hates remakes and remasters, so if she's directing or writing her own films, they're going to be originals that still hold the nostalgia of the 80s and 90s

[tomurasmoleunderhislip]

~ LaVeyan Tomura with Theistic Satanist S/O ~

Au, and self inserted obv because I'm Theistic Satanist myself

Ngl I can picture him being atheistic satanist, like being atheist, but sexier and more iconic mmm yes ugh 🤭😩

Genre: headcanon writing, crack, fluff mostly, suggestive in end

Warnings: last genre I mentioned, my opinions and views, if you can't stand them go away or I'll spray you with satanic water

YOU HAVE TO HEAR ME OUT OKAY? I feel like he wouldn't like abrahamic religions, he hates being controlled, told what to do, what's right and what's wrong. He despises hero society, so it wouldn't be surprising if he despised Abrahamic God when it's same like with the heroes, they view them both like complete good that do nothing wrong, they're innocent in the eyes of brainwashed people and he's sick of it, he doesn't want that.

He knew about satanism before and how misunderstood it is, he used to be in none religious path, although he was always curious about satanism and was willing to learn new stuff about it. He found LaVeyan Satanism to fit him the most and joined it, he likes how it teaches people to take their own responsibilities for their lives, actions and behaviour, and how they're the one who decides and shapes their own destiny, not some god, how they embrace freedom, he doesn't believe much in supernatural beings, but is down to learning about some of them if they're interesting to him, he's curious about paranomal and likes watching videos about them sometimes, he's not sure about what comes after death, but finds different theories about it fascinating, he enjoys some deep late night talks. Almost same goes for magic and witchcraft, he doesn't believe much in it and doesn't understand it but he's curious about it, maybe he might try it, magic always fascinated him since he was a kid anyway.

Even though he's atheistic and LaVeyan, he disagrees with Anton LaVey's views on theistic/spiritual satnism who says it doesn't exist and isn't part of satanism. He thinks Satanism is all about personal path and beliefs, it's not same for everyone. He basically doesn't give a shit, as long as it's not harmful, do what you want and he approves.

When I came into his life and after we got close he found out I'm Theistic Satanist he wasn't judgemental or mad, nor surprised, he was rather all curious, excited and slightly teasing. Even though he knew I didn't and wouldn't do something like that he would mess around and say stuff like "are you sacrifing people to Satan?", "Were you drinking blood while I was asleep last night?" just to annoy me a little on purpose and mess around, because he knew I heard shit this at least few times before from dumb people.

Loves to listen to my random informations about deities I worship and about my beliefs, he finds it wholesome how passionate I am about it and sometimes insane how much I know about them because when I find something interesting, I dig in so deep there's almost no returning, he sometimes wonders how the fuck do I get such detailed informations, I can write whole book with all of them how much I have them. He wasn't surprised when I told him I have whole account for Theistic Satanism and plan to make my own website to educate people who just want to understand it, and newbies into it. He enjoys helping me edit photos for for posts, finds my way of posting satisfying and brain scratching, he's a bit sick of those same Baphomet and goatheads background photos everyone else uses for post about Theistic Satanism, so he likes something new and different.

Finds it absolutely hilarious how I deal with hate comments, he's glad I don't take shit seriously and mess with their heads instead, he even joins me when he's in mood to drive someone insane, though some of my replies are jaw dropping and how unfiltered they can be. When I'm busy and someone attacks my post he defends me in comment section like a lawyer then slams his desk from frustration when everything disappears because I blocked the person during argument between them and their comments disappeared, still laughs because they got cutted off before they could say anything else.

Sometimes he calls me spawn of satan.

He loves watching people go insane over my pfp and get so offended over one picture because the original didn't even looked the closest to Jesus when you think about it.

When he found out I like stuff that is seen as disgusting and sick by most people he started spoiling me with them. I like animal bones and skulls and Satan likes them too? He orders them on internet and even saves some chicken bones he had after KFC or lunch, he learned how to clean them just for me, he finds bones cool anyway so he doesn't mind. I like shark teeth? He orders them, he wasn't expecting me to make him necklace out of them too as a thank you. I like dead bugs framed and in jar? He started collecting dead moths around his room. I love big hairy and ugly spiders? He got me wholeass tarantula pet. I like snake skin? He gets some and so be it. He even got me books of prayers, rituals to Satan and some goetia books when he found out I like learning about demons too.

He used to find it a bit weird, but then cute how devoted I am to Satan and how I see him as a dad figure, when he learned more about him from me, even though he doesn't believe in supernatural beings much he places some tiny offerings and gifts for him on my shrine/altar for Satan that he feels like he'd like them. I found that out by finding some random dragon toy on altar.

He shat himself a little when satan's candle's flame went tall and bouncy quickly after he placed something on altar, but he chilled out when I told him he didn't mind and actually liked it. After seeing that he was questioning his views on supernatural, specially after thing or two got knocked out off satan's shrine out of nowhere while window is closed, it looked like someone smacked it to get attention but they're invisible, sometimes he finds it funny, a bit creepy but still funny.

He got a little heart attack when he entered my room once and saw me for first time in black robe with hood on sitting by altar in dark, but bursted in laughter. He sometimes teases me for it but now less since I told him I wear it when working with demon/god who prefers black to be worn and something formal/extra. He even got himself one to match with me, he likes wearing it randomly around house to scare the shit out of me, usually he stays in the hallway or follows me around quietly then just waits until I realize someone's behind, sometimes he gets impatient and just grabs me.

Likes hearing out prayers and poems I wrote on my own and also helps me make them sound better if he has any good ideas.

One time when he was gaming he smelled the fire and thought shit was burning in house, he jumped from his seat in slight concern then saw me in room just burning a paper with some sigil...he was just standing there in disbleif before waving it off getting back to his business.

Sometimes takes photos of me when I stare at candle so long and moon, he finds it hilarious because I look like some kid that found new toy. He often looses me in store when we go in it together and always finds me where candles, plants, herbs/seasonings are, but also glassy stuff such as vases, jars, cups and plates. He finds it a bit annoying how easily I get distracted but also adorable that he can't get mad at me and yell at me for it. Secretly gets stuff I touched in store to surprise me later. He loves how I'm so fascinated with such simple things.

He likes to poke me sometimes and annoy me during my meditations but knows when is too much and when to stop. He couldn't stay with me in same room when I meditate because he would laugh out loud, I look like dead Victorian man just laying/sitting there, he had to leave. Sometimes he tries things I'm doing, found meditation awkward until he found out there's dark type of mediation music, I shared some with him, he loved them and felt so relaxed, he uses it when he can't sleep, it knocks him off easily and calms him down.

Collects feathers he finds outside, flowers, pretty rocks and shiny things for me. He dries the flowers before giving me them because I prefer them like that. He gets in return casted spells for him, handmade necklaces and bracelets. I infected him with my obsession with scented candles, he started getting them too and giving me jars/containers they were in after they melt out completely because he knows I make candles too. I make some for him too, he likes how they look on top, they have some herbs and crystal chips, sometimes glitter. AND ALSO INCENSE, one of his favourites are sandalwood.

Goes on nature walks with me, he likes them, we're always on places where nobody is, the only thing that could be heard are wind, birds and leafs cracking when you step on then. We sit on bench together and lean on eachother while watching clouds in the sky and butterflies flying around, we don't mind silence between us, it's not awkward but more comforting and peaceful. All fun and good until a wasp shows up, I jump and run around from fear. He's just laughing and watching in satisfaction and entertainment until one flies at him as well, he starts running away with me.

He asks me often about witchcraft and wants to learn more about it, he was in love when he found out the truth of it and wanted to try it himself. He finds it attractive how I stand close behind him and guide him in spell casting while leaning on his neck or shoulder. Goes even more crazy from inside when I hold him for waist or hip and talking close to his ear, he gets goosebumps and slight shivers. Sometimes he gets distracted and just looks at me and my mouth while I'm explaining him stuff, it only gets us both distracted, he gets all breathy and hungry then witchcraft lessons become a makeout session instead, he just pins me down on floor with his weight and presses his mouth on mine, or it becomes a "cowboy" game if it gets too heated..💀

@lovesickvamp @wholelottawidows I GOT DISTRACTED IDK WHAT'S WRONG WITH ME AND ALL FUCKING DRAFTS, I JUST KEEP ADDING THEM, THEN DON'T KNOW HOW TO END SOME FICS SO I JUST START ANOTHER WRITING 😭😭😭

[nothorses]

I think what's especially annoying to me about the "culturally Christian" argument is that people pushing the phrase (as a way of referring to individuals) tend to argue that it's describing a difference in what you know about cultures and religions outside of Christianity.

That's how they justify applying it to atheists and agnostics who don't come from a minority religion background, right? You don't know about any other religion, you must know about Christianity no matter what because that's the dominant religion here, which means you're closer to Christianity than anything else.

But like.

I was raised atheist by people who were raised atheist. Adults around me knew about Christianity, but because we never talked about it, I didn't know anything about any religion for a good chunk of my childhood.

I found out Christmas was a religious holiday when I was like 9; I thought it was about Santa before that, and I literally did not know what the nativity scene was.

I thought Easter was about eggs and bunnies until I was about the same age. I did not understand who Jesus was when it was finally explained to me; I received that information in 7th grade social studies class, when my teacher was explaining the divergence of the three Abrahamic religions.

I learned the vast majority of what I know about Christianity in art history classes I took for my degree, and I was, at the same time, working at a Jewish afterschool program; a not-insignificant part of my job was helping to lead Shabbat prayers and teaching kids about upcoming Jewish holidays. We discussed Jewish values and how they related to the structure of the program very regularly. I cannot stress enough that this was part of a Jewish community center in which a Rabbi worked and relevant gatherings and celebrations happened.

I would say I know more about Christianity, but it's not a huge margin, and a lot of that is repetition; things I've learned about Christianity have been reinforced and repeated over time, and that's not really true of Judaism for me. Had I worked at the JCC for more than two years, my answer might be different.

I would say that I received a lot of Christian messaging growing up, because our broader cultural values are heavily rooted in those ideas. Everyone gets that messaging. What they do with it might depend on their family's culture and religion, and it might depend on their own internal processing. I can say, personally, that much of that messaging didn't stick for me; I realized there was no "real" reason for those beliefs at a pretty young age, and spent a lot of time obsessing over the internal consistency of my own value system. I rejected a lot of them, often without even knowing where they were coming from.

So yeah, you could absolutely say I know more about Christianity, I've been exposed to more of it, and that I've been surrounded by more of it. But everyone in this country experiences this too some degree; to draw highly individualized conclusions about that based on the fact that I'm an atheist alone feels disingenuous, to say the least. Atheism is why I was questioning those things, and rejecting many of them; how is that different from other beliefs? Why does the fact that there is no higher power involved make that less significant than for those who do believe in one?

Don't get me wrong, our culture is Christian. This has an impact on individuals, and I think it's fair to say that some people are more driven to challenge those ideas than others. I'd argue that atheism does require challenging Christian ideas on its own, but I can concede that as a generally self-directed thing, it's easier for folks to just not self-reflect in that way than it might be when going through a guided conversion process.

But.

That line isn't hard and fast, and it's unfair to insist that it is just for the sake of convenience. Particularly when Christians themselves are unwilling to include anyone different from them, especially for the sake of sharing their power.

[fluffykitteninabox]

Hey... I'm curious about something. How do you and your family treat Greek mythology and superstitions? 👀

Do you believe in them to a degree? If there were Gods and Goddesses, why wasn't it a full religion?

I hope this isn't rude. I'm more than happy to talk about mine.

Don't worry, it's not rude

Sorry, this took so long, it's a surprisingly hard question to answer because I needed to think about how I view Greek mythology vs how the rest of the world sees it and this accidentally turned into a rant 😅

also some of my opinions might be considered controversial but... I don't care! lol I guess the 5 Greek followers I have can unfollow me if they don't like this or whatever 😂

Anyway have some sparkles because this is kind of long oops ✨✨✨

WARNING: me trashing on Americans

The Greek pantheon was like any other religion in ancient times, but it's not really treated like one anymore. The main religion of Greece now is Orthodox Christianity, and the largest religious minorities are Islam and Catholicism. My parents and I are atheists. I'm certain there's still people that practise it, but they would probably be seen as foolish by the general public.

We are taught part of our mythology in school at the age of 8 (unless they changed it idk 😂). It isn't taught like a religion, but more like fairytales.

The way it's taught is very lacking in my opinion. Instead of explaining for example how sexism influenced the creation of these myths and what a giant asshole Zeus was, we are just told Hera was "the jealous type" and that's why she's the antagonist in most of the stories she appears in.

Achilles and Patroclus were definitely gay, but no one ever talks about it. According to our school books, they were just really close friends! In fact, this specific topic is avoided so much that I first heard about it from foreigners on the internet! A lot of people deny this, even saying that "friendship was just different back then, it was deeper"!! I'm sorry sir, I don't think I'd ever ask to be buried with the ashes of my just a friend™ no matter how close we were! Technically speaking there's nothing explicit in the original text, but Aeschylus, Phaedrus, Plato and Alexander the Great all read it as a romantic relationship and the first 3 even had their own headcanons about it, so that's enough for me!

I'm guessing a lot of these depend on what type of teacher each person has, and it's been a long time since I was 8, so teachers might be more open about it now, but if you just read the 3rd year history (mythology) school book this is the content you'll get. I don't think withholding this information is done because it's being taught to kids, it's not a "they're 8, so they wouldn't understand sexism". That would be a silly argument considering our mythology is filled with incest, rape and gore, which our school books very openly mention throughout. They are just trying to avoid it.

From 9 and up, we are taught more actual history than mythology. We focus on real historical figures and events, so most of the less know myths get forgotten. At 13-15 we're taught the Odyssey and the Iliad (by Homer), and Helen (by Euripides). Yes, that is in fact the order that they teach us these 🙃!! Supposedly it goes from easier text to harder text for each year, but I personally think that's stupid because the story is completely backwards now, and we get it translated to modern Greek anyway, so what's the point of telling it backwards???? It's not convenient, it's confusing! Anyway, these are taught in a similar way to literature. We analyse the text and characters and all that.

Ages 16-18, I honestly have deleted most of these from my brain tbh 😂. OK, not exactly, the first and third year are more historical texts and philosophy. The second year we do another play, Antigone (by Sophocles). Actually wait, the first one was about a war and there was a ton of political intrigue in there, and it was super interesting. The third one was more about philosophy.

The plays aren't exactly the same as mythology, it's more like fanfiction about historical figures and gods! I mentioned them because..... I just like them lol

I kind of deviated a lot from what you actually asked me and answered more generally. For me and my parents specifically, religion isn't really something we participate in. My grandma is very religious though. She used to go to church every Sunday before covid. Now she watches it from the TV (there's a specific Christian chanel that broadcasts church service from different parts of the country). I personally hate how brainwashed some people are by Christianity (including my grandma). Thankfully, we haven't reached American levels of religious fanaticism.

Mythology isn't really something that's on our minds often. My grandma didn't go to school, so I doubt she knows much about it. My parents probably learnt some of it. Outside of the school environment, ancient Greek mythology isn't really a topic most people think about (maybe I think about it more than the average Greek person, because I'm an art student and a bit of a history nerd). But even then, I've seen more about Greek mythology from people who treat it like a fandom on the internet and make AUs with their characters and stuff like that. Now, I know I made jokes earlier about fanfiction and headcanons, so this is probably going to sound very hypocritical of me...

However, Homer's poems and other ancient Greek plays are not the same as myths. They're not treated the same. They are theatrical performances based on historical events/figures. I don't care much about people's modern interpretations of these, because they are fictional stories. Now, myths are also fictional, I even compared them to fairytales at the start. But they were still based on ancient people's religious beliefs. People practised it as a religion, they had rituals and traditions, some of which are still done today (though they have changed and evolved over time). The myths were more like the framework for what the Gods represented in their lives. Kind of like how most Christians don't believe the events in the Bible literally happened.

I'm fine with people taking inspiration from a myth and doing a modern retelling as long as they're respectful. I've seen some modern, more feminist retellings of Medusa that I personally really liked. I've even thought of making my own version of Arachne (=spider) but without the religious propaganda and classist undertones.

What I'm not ok with, is people wearing bedsheets to "dress up as Greek"! I'm sure you can probably relate to this because Americans do this with a ton of cultures. If you want to "dress up as Greek", do this:

I'll respect you more!!

(this is obviously a joke, don't do this either, you'll get laughed at. This dude is part of a parody show)

And secondly, I'm not ok with people taking mythology and twisting it into something completely unrecognisable that doesn't even seem like it's from the culture it was based on. Basically, Americans shouldn't be allowed to make movies about other people's cultures!!! Ok, I'm exaggerating, but if you're going to do something based on mythology/religion of some other culture, you need to do proper research and be as respectful as possible.

Good example: Dreamworks-Prince of Egypt, 1998

Even as an atheist who was only taught religion in school, I can tell this is a very respectful adaptation. The team that made this met with religious experts to make sure they got it right.

Bad example: Disney-Hercules, 1997

This is the most American a Greek myth has ever been! It's more like Superman than Heracles. Don't do whatever the fuck Disney did here guys. I'm actually planning on tearing this film apart in a future review, so I'm not going to say anything else right now.

I'm not saying don't make changes. Greek mythology is very "fluid" in a way. Every myth has multiple versions, with minor or major differences between them. Changes are fine, even making a parody is fine. But I think the end result shouldn't just resemble its inspiration on a superficial level. It's not enough to have your characters wear a tunic and sandals and have them say Zeus instead of God every couple of sentences. The important part is why a particular myth exists. What is the original message? What does the story/character represent? That needs to be kept the same, otherwise the adaptation won't be an adaptation anymore. It will be a different story disguised as an adaptation. At that point, you should just make an original story.

Alright last thing and then I'm done talking I swear 😂!

You also asked about superstitions.

Here's a small list:

if you spill coffee it's good luck

if your right palm is itchy, you'll get money, but if your left palm is itchy, you'll give money. The first one is usually interpreted as like: "you'll find coins on the street or win one of those scratch lottery tickets". The second one is like: "a sign that the electricity bill is coming, or you need to pay rent". (my dad believes this one)

if you're born on Saturday, it means you're lucky (I was born on a Tuesday 😔)

evil eye: a curse when someone "glares" at you/has bad intentions. If you have blue eyes you're immune to this, otherwise you can wear an evil eye charm. (this comes from the Middle East, I think. You might know about this, because there's a ton of different countries that believe it. I personally just like the charms)

when you visit a house for the first time, you need to enter with your right foot first for good luck. If you enter with your left, it's like wishing bad luck for the people who live there. This is also done for the first person to visit the house on New Year's Day.

if you enter a place from one door you can't leave from another door, you have to use the same one. (supposedly it ruins your matchmaking if you do that)

if you're talking with someone, and you say something simultaneously, you say "touch red" and then you need to touch something red before you continue speaking. (I remember doing this a lot as a kid)

if you talk about something bad happening hypothetically, you knock on wood or say the phrase "knock on wood", so it doesn't happen

if you get served the last drop of wine, you get bitches 😎!!

There are a lot of traditions that are really old that a lot of people still follow, even if they're not religious or the tradition comes from a different religion. I'll tell you one of my favourites that's relevant right now. Every first of March people in a lot of Balkan countries (Greece, Bulgaria, Albania, North Macedonia and others) wear a bracelet made from intertwined red and white threads. This is worn for the whole month of March, and it is supposed to protect you from getting burnt by the sun. At the end of the month, we take them off and leave them for swallow birds to use in their nests. Swallows are believed to bring spring.

hand reveal lol:

If you read this far, you are a legend.

It's your turn now. How do you and/or your family view Philippine mythology? What about the people in general? And also, do you have any traditions for spring?

[theshoesofatiredman]

“This choice to follow Jesus is so highly valued within Christianity, the determiner of eternal salvation, but it's barely even a choice at all. It's practically an outcome of a person's birth circumstances.”

The choice to follow Jesus is the only thing that matters in Christianity. That is a fact, yes. In his final moments, the robber at the cross chose to follow Jesus ─ he died shortly after, yet that small choice was enough.

I cannot answer why people risk their lives to follow Christianity.

Like yourself, I live in a country where being a Christian does not risk me the penalty of death. I can only recall the hymn “I Have Decided to Follow Jesus” (which I am sure you know of) ─ and if it cannot answer your why, then what can?

But I do disagree that it is an outcome of one's birth. Unlike yourself, no one forced me into Christianity. After leaving their church, my parents never stepped foot in another one for 16 years.

I certainly didn't like reading the Bible, nor did I care about praying as a kid.

The only time I've seen my father try his hand at converting anybody was to myself. He explained why it was, how it was, and what it was. Told me the choice was my own, and never brought it up again.

And I didn't take him up on that offer. It was a long time later, and a choice very much my own that made sense to me that lead me where I am ─ so yes. I disagree quite a lot, actually, that it is a matter of circumstance.

Because I was not raised in a church, and neither was my father; my mother was raised an off-hand Catholic with way more pressing issues to even think about faith or religion.

Many more people leave the church they were raised in, than are raised in a way to keep them in a church until adulthood. Still, I'm not from the US, so I don't know what happens around there.

I'd even bring forth every single member of my local church as an example, but this getting too long already.

And there are two more questions I want to answer.

(1/?)

I was quite taken aback by this response, because I would think that the unfair access to the message of John 14:6 across the modern world alone would've been indisputable. Some people get to live in a part of the world where Christianity's influence is so everpresent you're likely to see John 14:6 on a bumper sticker (this happened to me this week, thought of you anon) and others get to live in parts of the world where they are likely never to even come to know John 14:6. I thought that this was something we would agree on.

People make choices, yes, but those choices don't exist in a vacuum! You may have made the choice to follow Christ, but the fact that your parents both brought some version of Christianity to the table certainly plays a role in the likelihood you'd even be exposed to Christianity's central doctrine! The fact that you live in a country where you can worship openly affects your ability to even be given the teachings of Jesus so that you can understand and follow him. And since we are talking about God here, judge of all humanity past present and future, with the power to install your soul into any era, the fact that you were born thousands of years after Jesus' ministry also has an impact.

Question: how soon after Christ's resurrection did humanity become responsible for trusting in him for their salvation? How were the people who were near death, living continents away, supposed to be held responsible for that knowledge? Did they ever stand a chance at hearing that Jesus was the only way to their Creator, before Christianity could even leave the region? What of the people who died in the moments after Jesus took his first breath, before the stone had even been rolled away. Were they responsible to choose Christ? And if they were, how is it fair?

The reality it would seem to me is that not everyone is dealt the same hand when it comes to the ability to choose to believe in Jesus as the way, the truth, and the life. Not then and not now. And yet salvation is handed out for this one choice alone. And that's not even really touching upon the matter of whether or not we can choose what we believe in (it's basically impossible to believe something you're not convinced of and it hardly seems like a moral failing to not be convinced something is true). How is it fair to withhold salvation from the person who died a year after and a continent away from when and where Jesus rose from the grave but give it to the 5th generation Christian born in 2002 into a Christian majority country? BTW 87% of Christians live in countries where Christianity is the majority religion.

I also am going to have to ask for a source on the claim that more people who were raised in the church leave rather than stay. I have not seen that backed up by the data I've looked at regarding religious belief. If that is true, I would like to know it, but sadly I don't think it is.

I'm glad you weren't indoctrinated, anon, but I think you're missing the point by highlighting this. Do you think you'd still be Christian if your family was devoutly Muslim? Do you think you'd still be Christian if you grew up in a majority Buddhist country? Do you think you'd be Christian if you were born in the same place but the same year Jesus was?

And to get back to my question, why worship a God who lets those very real barriers, that affect something as amoral as belief, determine whether a person should be saved?

[madreemeritus]

My Christine Daaé AU✨

this is a Christine i created for myself, inspired in both the Leroux version and the musical (PS: this one is blonde and have blue eyes)

- she cooks very well (she always cooked for Erik and he loves it dearly)

- her favorite color is blue 💙

- she has freckles :3

- she is a weird monsterfucker girl (just like me fr) but she never admited it to anyone

- she was always excluded by the other kids because they considered her weird and not "feminine" enough ("femininity" in their conception would be submissive behaviour)

- as her mother died when she was 3yo, she barely has memories of her mother

- her father, Gustave, educated her with an open mind, without any gender-rule or religious bullshit, this is why Christine grew up to be a strong open minded woman without bias or prejudice

- the first time Christine met religious opression and sexism was when she met De Chagny family (Raoul's family), she was very young

- bisexual queen 💅 (everyone is queer to me unless you prove me opposite)

- she developed a shame of herself when everyone else considered her "weird", but when she met Erik – a much weirder person than her – she felt related to him and better with her own weirdness (and his as well)

- her father died when she was 13yo

- she is shy 🥺💙

- she absolutely LOVES Frankenstein and has a deep admire to Mary Shelley

- her favorite Opera is Don Giovanni (she was pleased to see Erik was inspired by it to make his own Don Juan Triumphant)

- she had a good memory of Raoul and how their friendship made her happy, but when they remeet and he acts like a shitty asshole with her, she was completely heartbroken by not recognizing him

- after meeting Erik, she befriended the Daroga and they both became silly Erik's babysitter and emotional support

- she admires the figure of Persephone, and her favorite version of the myth is the one where Persephone wasn't kidnapped, instead she married Hades willingly and moved to the underworld to escape Demeter's overprotective maternity

- she ADORES painting. Aside from singing, it's her favorite thing to do

- speaking of painting... she loves to draw Erik. It became nearly an addiction, she loves drawning his face, his golden eyes, and sometimes she asks to paint his whole body (yes she asks for nude poses, and he obeys 😌)

- she is a woman ahead of her time, she has no shame of her pleasure and knowledge, and she teaches other girls to stand up for themselfs in every oportunity she finds

- she has no religion and hardly believes in something else beyond what she sees and experience (but she respects other's faiths)

[arcplaysgames]

I finally took Kawakami up on the massage and man

man

I wish that were me. I want someone to do my back and just put all their fucking weight on my lower back, are you kidding? Kawakami, you should not be doing this shit for free. You should be charging a few hundo and getting a 50 dollar tip on top, goddamn.

Anyway.

BITCH WHAT THE FUCK IS WRONG WITH YOU, YOU WANNA PLAY TO 701?! WHY ARE YOU DAMAGED LIKE THIS?

god i want to hold you down and shave your fucking head for this, you bastardman. fine.

D-dad.....................

Sojiro takes the family to the church to visit Wakaba's grave.

I love that phrasing. "The four of us together." It's implied a few times that Sojiro loved Wakaba. He tried to date her a few times but it seems like she always turned him down, but he stuck around. It's very easy to imagine him orbiting Wakaba and Futaba. Maybe if not for Wakaba's murder, they would have made things more official down the road, but it feels like that story was taken away from them.

Well, one: you have had extremely good reason to be distrustful of other men in Futaba's life, look at what her uncle did to her.

Two: If you ever walked her down an aisle you'd bawl your eyes out, old man.

Three: relax she's sixteen and last time someone flirted with her, she called him an NPC. I think you can chill.

Dad, that's Reverie's sister you're talking about.

Anyway, when are you adopting Reverie? Like, you've already gone through this process before, is it like a few months or....?

THAT'S HIEROPHANT!

BLOWS OUT A LOUD BREATH

So. I'm trying to figure out how this one works. At first, I thought of Sojiro as the Hierophant due to his position as a the cafe owner, the man who helms a place for adults to congregate, the person steering that little piece of local culture.

The game kind of fakes you out on him, setting him up as a proponent of the legal system and the mores of the culture and how exacting it demands your behavior to be. Then it turns out he's, like, the opposite of that by his own admission.

Now, as he stands in a church, I wonder if his 'religion' is Wakaba, this woman stolen from her daughter. Sojiro goes out of his way to keep her memory as vivid and alive as he can, feeding Futaba her mother's curry recipe every time she asks for it.

The problem is that I still struggle with him as the Hierophant at all. I still think the Emperor works better, given the extreme emphasis on Sojirio and the spaces he controls. He is the ruler of the cafe and of his own house. The moment he tells Reverie he's going to keep sheltering him despite the danger of him being a Thief, that feels supremely Emperor-y to me.

So I guess I can make Hierophant work if the secret culture/religion/spirituality he is devoted to and is in charge of teaching to others is Wakaba's memory?

It... works. I'm not thrilled with it, though, and I think Emperor would fit him better with less chafing.

Six out of ten.

Also, he's Reverie's dad now.

Oh besides that, I kicked off Haru's SLink and she's the Empress. So far she's interested in gardening, which is a good foundation for the bountiness of the Empress, but I'll shout if anything interesting happens.

[treepilgrim]

unsolicited tree thoughts:

If you’re going to watch a single voice drama for T2, watch Amane’s. Not only is it, in my opinion, the most intriguing and well written one, but it also gives you quite the insight into her cultish mindset and her reasons for her murder.

So!! Let me pinpoint some of her more questionable statements to demonstrate what I mean:

“It wasn’t murder. It was merely a punishment in line with our doctrine.”

I think the main takeaway from the MV that most people got (including me) was that Amane killed the guy as revenge for the mistreatment and abuse she endured. However, while personal reasons may certainly be a factor in the murder, these lines make it rather clear that the main motive is probably still religion. Does this mean that if we forgive her, we’re commending whatever screwed up cult she’s in?? Maybe, maybe not. But I thought it was rather interesting.

Although I say that, I’m not discounting the possibility that she’s simply using religion as a justification for a emotionally-motivated murder. But really, if you watch the voice drama, it really does feel otherwise.

“In light of our doctrine, your insult to us is more than enough to warrant a punishment!” (proceeds to attack Es with scissors)

goddamnit. I’m so sick of people telling me that Amane is a kid and can’t do any harm even it she’s voted innocent. She literally lunges at Es with scissors, screaming “I’LL KILL YOU” repeatedly. ANYONE can do a lot of harm given the right motivation. Amane’s motivation is obviously her religious doctrine, and clearly, she’s very committed to it. So that’s a nice peek into her mental state I guess. I think this section also further suggests that her religion still played a very big part in her murder.

Furthermore, if simple insults from Es can warrant this kind of violent reaction, consider this:

“Both pain and illness are trials. According to our teachings, those who run from them are the worst evil there is. That’s one of the four great principles. No matter who you are, that cannot be forgiven.”

“Oh, speaking of which, there is one among the prisoners right now. An evil existence that’s trying to steal people’s trials away from them.”

“I have given (shidou) a warning. If he continues, I suppose it will be inevitable for me to intervene.”

it’s shidou. By virtue of his profession, he is violating one of her ‘four great principles’. I’m harping on this like a broken recorder because if Es’ INSULT manages to incite mauling with scissors, what kind of grand punishment would Shidou’s violation of the FOUNDING PRINCIPLES of her religion buy him??? The previous interaction literally demonstrates that Amane’s is PERFECTLY capable of harm.

Additionally, to those saying Shidou can totally hold his own against a child, consider everything that I’ve said and also that:

1. Shidou killed people who are unconscious while Amane supposedly beat up a full-grown man. Shidou has no combat advantage here.

2. Have you ever had to wrestle a spoiled kid away from something once and they’re kicking and screaming and biting your forearms?? I have. It’s hurts like hell and very difficult to keep under control. Now replace this petulant kid with a child harboring pure vitriol and murderous intent. Rhetorical question here: Are you sure you will leave the situation completely fine? Just a thought.

3. While Shidou supposedly now has a new purpose to ‘extract that fang’, we don’t actually know just how much his resolve has strengthened. It doesn’t mean he’s still not feeling massive amounts of guilt. And I want to make this clear before y’all come at me, I’m not claiming anything, I am merely speculating. So what do I think will happen? @alabella puts it best: “If Amane ends up getting forgiven, it’s not that he’ll be unable to defend himself, it’ll be that he wouldn’t *want* to. This is the man that felt so guilty for being unable to save a child that he wanted the death penalty, he’s just gonna sit there and let it happen.”

whoops, looks I slipped up and accidentally started pushing my Shidou-favouritism agenda and we-might-want-to-consider-Amane-guilty agenda.

For the record, I’m not expecting anything out of this. It’s highly unlikely she’ll be guilty at the rate this is going. But if we make it out of T2 without any violence between her and Shidou, by Jove, will I be pleasantly surprised.

Also, while we’re on the topic of bad outcomes:

“Are the prisoners who weren’t forgiven feeling lost right now? Maybe they need our faith as well.”

(credit for noticing this point and being willing to share it with me: @alabella)

This was given as a one-off statement so it’s rather easy to miss the implications. But listen: Who could Amane be referring to? Who is the most ‘lost’ right now, of the guilty prisoners? Probably not Mikoto, definitely not Amane, so that leaves Fuuta and Mahiru.

Fuuta probably won’t buy it, let’s be real.

Mahiru, on the other hand… We’ve already established through other voice dramas that her psychological state is pretty down in the dumps right now. Furthermore, she’s confused about whether loving someone is bad, and actually our new innocent verdict might not necessarily help this, since it might make her even more confused and lost, if that makes sense. So, honestly? Mahiru is pretty susceptible to indoctrination if Amane ever decides to do missionary work. :/

And what does that spell? I have no idea, but probably not anything good. We also can’t discount the possibility that the prisoners voted guilty in T2 (Haruka especially) may also be indoctrinated. That’s probably a bad thing.

Conclusion: Bad things happened, bad things will happen.

So, yeah. There it is. Watch the voice drama. Cheerio.