#with generational trauma it's never as black and white as that

[chnt-confessions]

i think i'm the only person in the entire fandom that has any genuine empathy for elijah, and i'm stuck thinking there's something deeply wrong with me for that. i feel like quite a lot of people split black on him (and joshua) and then split white on jedidiah, and sydney. the ONLY two options are to dehumanize or objectify him. no hate to jedidiah-likers, but jedidiah is not a victim. he doesn't act entirely the way he does because of trauma, he acts that way because he implicitly looks down on sydney. what kind of man jeopardizes the entire world for a man that he let gravely sick in the first place, only to gaslight and neglect him?? all this because of mommy and daddy issues that, like, 70% of the population has?? i had to headcanon extra issues and trauma for him to just to keep myself sane. i don't mean to invalidate his trauma, but he has lived such a privileged life and can easily go to therapy and yet. i'm sorry but it's bojack-horseman levels of "how tf do you expect me to feel bad for you? lmao." like, i need him to get better because people will likely die if he gets any worse, but other than i couldn't care less about this guy. i'm way more sympathetic to sydney because he's trying his best but he seems to have an empathy deficiency of some kind (it's not his fault but it is painfully obvious sometimes and i wish i could fix him but i have to fix myself first because i also deal with this); i also relate to the "feeling unlovable" aspect of things.

we have only seen elijah at his worst. the elephant man is elijah "mental breakdown, 2 years and counting psychotic episode" core; did everyone just assume he was born like that? and if he was, that would also make me sad tbh. he had a similar upbringing to jedidiah and yet he does not show it at all and i'm wondering what tf was different. he also generally sucks at being a villain sometimes (i.e. telling sydney his weakness, letting sydney go back to jedidiah, reacting way better than most people would when sydney told him that he couldn't get the journals). when jedidiah says "sydney, you're always fine." vs when elijah says it; jedidiah said it to gaslight sydney and because he feels bitter about the fact he's working so hard to keep sydney alive and can't use it to manipulate him (i'm joking but i'm also not joking), while elijah was just being a little acolyte and also he's symbolically the earth, so when he says the earth will catch him when he falls, he is fr. idk what snapped in him with the murder-suicide thing but considering that he is the earth, and unfortunately due to sydney's weird little mind and jedidiah's horribleness, the earth is, like, post-apocalyptic now so it probably has something to do with that (idk why he switched from stabbing to burning alive; probably cuz of the theatrics/j). anyway, he does suck and he needs to go back to russia and never come back for everyone's good, but i really do think he would be better than jedidiah could ever be (yes, even with therapy; i'm literally speaking facts/hj) if "everyday [wasn't] a living fucking nightmare." and i'm constantly like "._." whenever i remember that jedidiah is the reason "everyday is a living fucking nightmare." also i really wanna see someone do elijah/the elephant man analysis/interpretation that doesn't reek of disgust and hatred (or lust; do whatever you want, but i'm judging you rn), just for variety tbh. here is his official playlist: https://open.spotify.com/playlist/389N5sUULTXFC63I3CSn7c?si=756dacaa18cd491c some of the songs in here are, like, "???" and i want to see someone's else's take on them (even elijah haters tbh) sorry for the essay, that's all i wanted to say :)

also im so happy that i can say this anonymously, thank you chnt-confessions for doing god's work, i love you platonically <3

(ABOUT THE LAST PART) no need to apologize and I'm really glad to make you happy!!

[pinkcrocss]

Is A-Train "redeemable"?

I have been thinking about this discourse that people have been having, following A-train's actions so far in season 4. And I know we've watched A-train teeter on the edge of good and bad for the last 4 seasons (generally falling to bad more than good). But i think the revelations about Frenchie's character kinda add an interesting spin to this question.

We need to consider how much our personal bias towards the characters we have grown to know (their motivations, their trauma's, their back stories), is impacting moral judgments we pass on other characters across the board.

Atp, every member of the boys has crossed "the line" in terms of black and white morality, but we give them a pass because we are convinced that they are all truly good at heart, and that their cause is just.

However, when you actually break down the actions of said characters, it kind of paints a different picture.

What has A-train done, that we feel he has to atone for? (this is just going off my terrible memory, so forgive me if I miss some things)

He killed Hughie's girlfriend (through negligence)

He killed popclaw (at the behest of homelander)

He's generally pretty arrogant and doesn't care about the horrible actions of his comrades, until it affects him

He killed bluehawk (most people agree that was justified)

Since season 2, Frenchie's past as a hit-man was hinted at (with little Nina explicitly stating that he had also killed children in season 3). It's clear Frenchie never had a particular moral code when he was a hit-man (no women/children type limits). He was simply a hired gun.

We sympathize with Frenchie because we know he had a difficult upbringing with his abusive father, as well as his loyalty to his friends (Cherie and Jay), the boys and especially Kimiko. Him serving as a comic relief often, also adds to this empathy bridge.

But season 4 has actually shown us a glimpse of just how many lives Frenchie has taken in cold blood. A whole room full. Why are we rooting for Frenchie's peace of mind, while debating if A-train is redeemable?

Frenchie has killed more people than Atrain (supe or not) and as far as I know, A-train has never killed a child.

Would it be easier to understand the gravity of Frenchie's crimes if Ryan or MM's daughter was one of his victims? Because his victims are all nameless, we act like his crimes hold less weight.

And then he goes on to start a sexual relationship with one of his victims, while hiding the knowledge that he was perpetrator of his greatest trauma. I think maybe we overlook the sadistic nature of that act because we interpret Frenchie as a "lover at heart", a true romantic that was swayed by his feelings and couldn't help that he had fallen for someone he had wronged. Bruh. When Colin eventually calls Frenchie a psychopath, he's not wrong.

And what about starlight? Her hands aren't clean. Remember the civilian she killed in Season 2? How is that any different from the situation with A-train and Robin? Yeah, it was an accident. In other words, negligence on her part. She needed to save Hughie; but why does Hughie's life matter more than that man. Her and Butcher were trying to carjack him and he had offered to call for help. He had a right to try to defend himself, and that bullet wouldn't have hurt her. That man was a father.

By the logic of why the boys are doing what they do, why we justify their murders of supes who have harmed them and their loved ones; if the child of that man grows up and hunts starlight down, would we need to root for that child to kill her?

Not so different from the shining light girl that keeps trying to kill Kimiko. From what was revealed of their backstory, Kimiko was the one who lured the girl into shining light. That's actually a common tactic of human traffickers, to use their victims (usually women and children) to lure in more victims cuz they seem less threatening. And obviously we can't fully blame Kimiko. She was trapped, brainwashed, and a child trying to protect her younger brother.

However, that girl also has every right to hate her. From her view, her life was forever taken because Kimiko chose not spare her (kinda similar to Gamora and Nebula). When Hughie said to A-train, "everything started with you!" we side with Hughie and we agree. So everytime Kimiko faces against that girl, why are we rooting for Kimiko? Wouldn't kimiko be A-train in that instance?

At this point, the only member of the boys who is still maintaining some Moral code is MM, and it's no coincidence that the show has made him seem pretty useless so far this season.

Btw, this post isn't a defense of A-train nor is it truly an indictment of any of the characters I used as examples. It's just an inconsistency I've noticed with the general fan discourse of who's "good" and who's "bad" on this show. Who is worthy of "forgiveness". Who's "redeemable". Redeemable to whom tho?

P.s. I'm not here to argue. Don't come for me cuz I critiqued your fave. I'm just thinking out loud. Feel free to respond/disagree, but if you're rude I'll just block you.

[cult-of-the-eye]

undiagnosed autistic jonathan sims as an 8 yr old being raised by his traditional south asian grandmother who thinks autism is either rude geniuses or children with "mental issues" so she just thinks jon is different. so she tries to change him, she tries to hammer the rules she got taught to assimilate into an entirely different society into him, where you must always excuse yourself from the table and never eat rice with your hands. she tried her best. but so did he.

[claudiasescapesubmarine]

.

[good-to-drive]

You ever notice how the people who think it's their moral duty to hate John for what he did to Julian are the exact same people who would turn on you and call you toxic the moment you started showing symptoms of an abusive childhood? It's almost like extending no compassion to people whose childhood fucked them up isn't actually helpful to people who had a fucked up childhood

[finsterhund]

the more time passes and the more I grow and mature as a young man the more I can actually articulate exactly why an internet celebrity targeting an indie game by "think of the children-ing" about comical violence on the level of the average looney tunes cartoon, subtle - likely unintentional- reinforcement of normalized ableism in society, and devolving into a tangent about how irreplaceable the nuclear family is (because the main character is implied to have a single mother) was so shitty. Then to go on and claim the game's fans were attacking him for pointing out that everything he said was a reflection of his own issues, even though his fans were the ones engaging in harassment.

[ri-writes-if]

Intro

DEMO | 2 chapters, 80K words

In the underworld kingdom, where demons fight for survival against the abyssal monsters, you are just an Oracle. In the distant past the Oracles were at the top of the demonic hierarchy, but those golden days are long gone. You did what you were most afraid to do and now sit under arrest in the royal palace.

When the Abyss sends you a vision of a terrible disaster that will happen in the future, you make an inevitable “deal” with the Sovereign to try to change the future and improve your abilities, not only to become stronger and learn more about the coming disaster, but also in an attempt to achieve mind stability. 

However, what has been happening to you since you received the vision makes you think that you are already slowly but surely losing your mind. 

Will you be able to maintain your sanity and help others protect the kingdom, or will you become just another name in the long list of Oracles gone mad?

This is an interactive fantasy story with a heavy focus on friendship and romance (with strangers to lovers or enemies dynamic). The story is rated 18+. Content warnings: violence, death, loss of sanity, trauma, possible sexually suggestive/sexual content, and more (the full list is in the demo).

Customize your Oracle: pronouns, traits, and appearance. Choose your full ✨ demonic form. ✨

Decide what you do for fun. Do you sing, dance, paint, play a musical instrument, or write? 

Deal with the old friends who let you down. 

What you did cannot be undone. Your reputation forever ruined, how will you handle the public’s new attitude toward you? 

Learn more about the Oracles’ past and what truly drove their royal clan into ruin. 

Maintain your sanity. Depending on your choices, you’ll either move closer to loss of control and madness or further away from it.

Decide what fate awaits you. You’ll have to make an important decision that will open two very different paths for you, influence the plot’s progression, and your relationships.

Will the victory be sweet?

✨ Vezriel, The Sovereign (m / f)

They have dark brown skin, long curly black hair, and black eyes with pale white flecks. Tall and of strong build, Vezriel cuts a robust but elegant figure, usually dressed in beautiful robes.

Vezriel seems a perfect ruler: they’re smart, calm, patient, know moderation, and always put demons’ well-being first. But you’re not so naive as to think this is their real face—many secrets lurk under the golden shell of the nobility. You never thought of meeting them in the past, but now spending some time with them is inevitable. Perhaps you will find out what lies beneath their mask?

✨ Osara / Osaron, The Heir (f / m)

They have warm brown skin, long wavy black hair, and silver, almost white eyes. O is tall and strong, their expression impassive most of the time, which makes them rather intimidating and unapproachable to some demons.

Vezriel’s only child and heir, O is their Chief Counselor, and they have a consistently good reputation. Their character reminds of their parent, though O is much more cold and reticent. Nothing seems to touch or shake their emotions, despite the known long list of ex-lovers. You don’t need their attention, but the circumstances have put you right under it. What will you make of this opportunity?

✨ Lazarus / Lazaris, the General (m / f)

They have beige skin, short/medium-length wavy blond hair, and golden eyes. Many small and big scars can be seen on their hands. L is tall and has a strong build. Despite their high station, they seem friendly and laid-back.

L rose from the bottom of the ladder and made a name for themselves, though judging by old rumors, their clean background wasn’t always so clean. They’re charismatic and popular but keep others at a distance—everyone except their friends… and you. L treats you especially well, but you’re not foolish enough to blindly play their game. What do they want from you?

✨ Ashmedai, the Royal Healer (f / m)

They have pale skin, long straight black hair, and bright red eyes. A large scar runs on the left side of their face, from their forehead along their eye and to their chin. Ash is tall and slender.

Ashmedai was sent to observe your condition after the incident and to help you with mind stability if needed. They performed their duties without showing any displeasure or impatience no matter how you behaved. Ash is secretive and reserved, and you guess their restrained temper is connected to the dark rumors surrounding them. Will they open up to you?

✨ Azarias / Azaria, the Royal Musician? (m / f)

They have pale skin, long white hair, and black eyes with narrow silver pupils. A tattoo of a snake with flowers curves around their neck. Az is tall and lean.

Ash’s younger sibling, Az somewhat resembles them in appearance, but their characters couldn’t be more different. Az is bold, humorous, and fickle. They know everyone—and everything about everyone—and enjoy a special favor from the Sovereign, which has allowed them to retain their place in the royal palace for many years. You’re concerned about their peculiar attention to you because there’s no reason for it—you two have never met before. Or… is there a reason after all?

[homeofhousechickens]

I saw this chart being shared around which was either made by an AI/bot or a very misinformed person (notice how it keeps repeating high nutrition value on colors that should def give you the ick) so I'm going to share my egg yolk color post from my patreon.

And here is my 2 year old patreon post if you want to learn what yolk colors really mean/ I think it covers everything besides blood/meat spots which are just due to the oviduct or blood vessels getting damaged in the egg laying process

"Its uncommon but sometimes egg yolks can come in a variety of colors besides shades of yellow and orange. Egg yolks are usually various shades of orange and yellow due to Xanthophylls, specifically Lutein. Xanthophylls are a yellow pigment and a type of carotenoid mostly found in leafy green plants. These pigments are what give free range chickens such a nice rich orange color to their yolks. There is a catch though, us humans know that lutein is what makes egg yolks that nice color so sometimes companies add it into their feed to give the impression that their poultry feed is healthier then their competitors. Sadly this also means that nice orange egg yolks don't necessarily mean the chicken that laid it lived a nice lifestyle. There are other egg yolk colors besides orange and yellow, such as white for example. This only happens when the hen in question is on a diet severely lacking in sources of Lutein, so no corn, leafy greens, grains, ect. So it usually means a chicken is lacking nutritionally and will be fixed immediately when on a better diet. Bright red is another color that can be caused by a variety of reasons. Red yolks can be from a hen eating a lot of sources of lutein and red pigments, such as nice green grass. peppers, or it can be from trauma in the oviduct which led to blood being in the yolk. Sometimes its just nutrition but its always safe to check your eggs over in case this is unusual for your hen. Another interesting color is black and green. These egg yolks are usually caused by cottenseed meal. They are this color due to an overabundance of Gossypol a yellow and brown pigment that is toxic in high amounts to both humans and chickens and very abundant in cottonseeds. Cottenseed meal is sometimes used in some poorer quality feed and silage as filler and as a protein source even though it has anti-nutritional properties. Sadly this can have a negative effect on chickens who eat to much causing long term damage to their digestive health and physically changing their crop. It can also cause eggs to become rubbery in texture and have pinkish egg whites. For these reasons you never want to eat egg yolks of this color. Lastly we have olive green. Olive Green egg yolks are most commonly caused by curious chickens eating acorns or by being fed acorn meal. Not only do acorns cause the bizarre change in color they also cause the eggs to taste weird. Acorns have a high amount of tannins in them, just like tea and just like tea they tend to have a naturally bitter flavor, not something you want to taste in your eggs! Tannins can also be toxic in high amounts so be mindful of your chickens diet if you see them. I think that covers most varieties and the reasons they happen. Its generally a good idea to not eat eggs that are questionable or a weird color in anyway, especially since some dangerous bacteria can change the color of the egg yolk or even the egg whites. So if your eggs arent the usual yellow and to reddish orange shades it may be a good idea to throw out the egg." https://www.patreon.com/posts/64183457

[wiisagi-maiingan]

American hatred of bodies and sex can never be leftist no matter how you try to frame it and acting like general nudity is some disgusting evil or something inherently sexual that requires the consent of everyone nearby is just contributing to the stigma and oversexualization of people's bodies. The trauma response that comes from just seeing nude breasts or penises is not inherent to being human, it's a direct result of bodies being treated as dirty and shameful instead of something natural that we all have.

Anyway here's my cats.

[Image description:

Two cats, one black and the other gray and white, curled up together on a white cat bed on a windowsill. The black cat is looking at the camera with wide green eyes.

End image description.]

[worldclueless]

trying to gather my thoughts and put this as eloquently as possible.

if you haven't caught up, recently jenson button gave an interview in which he gave advice to lewis hamilton about his move to ferrari. unsurprisingly, this spurred some 'discourse' (shudders) about how lewis ex-teammates-turned-pundits (mostly nico and jenson Imao) tend to give weird borderline-psycho analysis about lewis even though it has been quite a significant amount of time since they were teammates and who knows if this analysis is even too applicable to lewis as he has changed A LOT since his tenure with them.

and again, unsurprisingly, this brought out a chunk of the fanbase that can never pass up the opportunity to give a dig at lewis and treat guy's like jenson and nico's words like gospel. one frankly gross post went on and on and on about how unbothered jenson was during his time as lewis's teammate (no he was not) and how much of a paranoid weirdo freak lewis was about being challenged by a teammate (never mind the fact his first teammate was fernando fucking alonso).

and this is a worrying trend i see growing amongst a faction of f1 fans who try and ignore the context of lewis and his place in the sport. lewis is a black man in a predominantly white sport. jenson nor nico, no matter how much people will place them on some babygirl pedestal, will NEVER know what that means or what this is like so whenever i hear them recount their time together as teammates, the context of this is always lost.

in 2011, lewis had split with his dad as his manager and was going through a tumultuous time with his girlfriend, nicole. i don't know about you, but if my personal relationships with the people i cared about were on rocky grounds, that would tend to affect how i interact with people at my workplace. nevermind the fact that it was also magazine gossip fodder. that type of spotlight affects you heavy. especially working in the toxic environment of early 2010s mcclaren.

nowadays, lewis, at best, is professional and cordial with both jenson and nico which is not a problem but for some reason some fans think lewis's attention and time should be spent fawning and talking about these men. they're unable to see him as somebody that is not fanfiction fodder for their white faves and it is generally disturbing the lengths they will go to to justify their lack of empathy, compassion, and consideration of his place as he tries to exist within a space that was resistant to accommodating his identity (2007 barcelona testing anyone?).

and if it wasn't bad enough, these same 'fans' have the cheek to imply that hamilton is psychologically weak for not engaging with these guys beyond a professional level. the same man who was racially abused by grown white adults since the age of 12 is psychologically weak. wow. truly stunning. and these fans always give a half-hearted "yeah of course lewis has gone through some racial trauma but-" but nothing. end of. your what fav and you have no fucking clue as to what racial trauma does to black children and how it seriously impacts them. so don't ever try to erase this impact. you're overstepping: it's not your place.

so if it wasn't clear: lewis hamilton does not owe your white fav anything. if he wants to mind his business while rolling by in his scooter, that's not a problem. you brocedes/slagclaren types that only tolerate him for his proximity to these white men are frankly, racist, and your pathetic attempts to hide behind your racism because lewis isn't as perfect as he tries to be' (yeah no shit) make it such a hostile environment for black fans who can smell your bs from a mile away.

[punkeropercyjackson]

Stephanie Brown:

Is poor

Has an abusive dad who was also a supervillain and that led to her becoming a superhero to spoil his plans but she focused a lot on helping out other less fortunate people in addition to fighting crime

Did badly often in school despite her extreme intellegence

Has anger issues and violent tendencies that manifest in her getting extra brutal in fights and being lowkey mean in general but she almost entierly directs it to people who deserve it

Is emotionally intense with ways of showing friendship that her classmates found offputting and that led to her being isolated from them and having almost no friends

Listens to Metallica

Took Tim Drake on a date to a shitty basement party with a bunch of alt teens

Was willing to kill at 14,including her own dad and only changed that because Bruce Wayne convinced her too

Loved Cassandra Cain romantically in a gritty dark future Batman run,has been Batwoman in two which is a mantle that has been held exclusively by a Kate Kane who is a butch lesbian and has shown multiple hints of being bi in the main timelines

Yelled and screamed at and even assaulted grown ass adults in her teen years for treating her badly with no fear and this stays into her adulthood

Grew up to be a Team Mom by at least her Batgirl days and the targets of her mothering were a biracial boy(Damian Wayne),two darkskin black girls(Nell Little and Tiffany Fox),a japanese girl(Maps Mizoguchi)and MANY other unnamed kids we see her being implied to care for

Presents super femininely but in a way that most guys in-universe find bad instead of attractive and she dosen't care about this because she dosen't want normies

Is a literature nerd,an artist,a gamer,a pianist AND a gymnist

Makes her own superhero gear

Uses optimism for a better world and trauma fueled spite as her motivation for heroism

Got treated like shit by almost everyone as a kid but we see this explicitly in her hero days with how much Bruce puts her down because she wasn't good enough for him

Does activism even outside of hero work

Is canonically pastel punk and accidentally autistic-coded and genuinely a real weirdgirl,not a fucking 'basic white girl' or a queen bee just because she's blonde and blue eyed and it's worth noting she's also been described as flat-chested as a jab but it not working because she loves her looks perfectly and that she's never shown any particular liking for being blonde and seeing as she got her hair from her dad,this is completely valid

She's Stephanie Brown,not Stacie White.Stop.Making.Her.Only.Trait.Her.Gender.Babygirl deserves better

[ellstronaut]

Going back to this debate

I know Ellle is a multifaceted individual that much is obvious she’s not one dimensional she has many elements to her personality. Additionally, it’s important to remember that even on the spectrum of masculine and feminine, Ellie isn’t completely one or the other. She exists in some sort of grey area between them, embodying both masculine and feminine traits. She’s not defined by one end of the spectrum, but rather by the interplay of these two extremes.

Yet at times the characterisation of Ellie is laced with internalised misogyny. And highlights the way “masc presenting” lesbians are treated in real life tied down to the “man” in the relationship why is Ellie mostly written as the dominant one especially when coupled with fem reader why do we head canon her as a top when it’s literally canon that she’s a switch? Why is there an infinite amount of “ellie taking care of the reader on her period” scenarios outnumber “Reader taking care of Ellie on her period” Ellie written as tall towering over fem reader and not like she’s literally 5’5

The fact is that there’s a heteronormative slant to the way people write her. Like I said almost never written as a switch, but a top. To some extent been portrayed as tall and dominating, never small or vulnerable. And Santa Barbara Ellie is often sexualized even though she is deeply traumatized and emotionally tormented. The problem is that people are viewing her through male-centric lenses, reducing her to an object of desire rather than a fully fleshed out woman with a complex, nuanced personality which includes many dimensions, some of which may be considered feminine.

There is no specific way to be a “masc lesbian” a woman nor feminine and express your femininity. Nor should that separate her from her womanhood/femininity. in a way it’s her way of showing how feminine she is. maybe not stereotypically through outward appearances, but her general identity. she’s a woman who experiences the same struggles that women do, Obviously she doesn’t waver just on the lines of black and white, she’s all rounded. In between. Grey area. The point I’m trying to make is that she’s all and above, you can be both masc and fem. I would add that Ellie's femininity is often overlooked or even belittled by people who only focus on traits that appeal to them. Not her emotional intelligence, her caring nature, her resilience, her dedication to her loved ones. Fuck she’s also a soft heart and a tender soul. These aspects of her are just as important to her character, she is a whole person ffs, exceptionally fleshed out

So fuck

“the hot wife and her hot boyfriend”

Why not

“The hot wife and her hot wife”

“She’s so boyfriend

Uh

“She’s so girlfriend”

Santa Barbara/Seattle is literally at her most vulnerable, disheveled state that girl is literally plagued with trauma, stuck in a limbo of “do I seek vengeance in the name of losing my family and absolutely everything or stay and suffer in silence (at who’s expense?? Hers) Yet we sexualise tf out of her, the most vulnerable pinnacle of existence—glorified and romanticised bc it’s “hot”

this is not a dig at anyone you’re free to write whatever tf you want bro it’s your platform but pls let’s not bs and pretend as of this doesn’t occur

[bubbles-for-all-of-us]

My heart is yours

a/n I know this ain't TLOU gif but I had to. Look how this man could hold you. Anyways... happy reading. This just came out of nowhere.

summary: Jackson doesn't seem to kill the fears in Joel's mind, only awaking new kind of doubts. Can you actually be in love with him or is it a hopeless dream that Joel is chasing?

Requested and inspired by my little lilly ���

warning: past injuries, hand trauma.

••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

Joel didn't care for any of it. He didn't care about a safe space to live in. He didn't care about what or where he slept. What he ate and if he ate in general. Pills and alcohol were all he needed at night. Even after twenty years, life hadn't been the same. And by that point, Joel simply didn't care. He lived in black and white. There was no in-between. He no longer believed in happiness. No longer strived to make a change. He was simply surviving.

Yet Joel's imagination would paint pictures of a somewhat different world. A handful of pills later, the blanket that laid over his shoulders would turn into a lover's embrace. Where the pillow felt like the soft flesh of the significant other. Joel was thankful when he had no recollections of the night like that. Where there was blank darkness and no evidence that he had been nothing but lonely. Longing. Somewhere deep down, longing to make a change. Most importantly, longing to be loved. Longing for someone to see him. To dust off the pain and make him feel something different.

Then Ellie came along, and you were right beside her. At first, Joel didn't even understand why Marlene wanted him on this job when you were with Ellie. Wild animals were less frenzied than you. Surely getting Ellie to the fireflies was like a walk in the park for you. That was until Joel noticed your trembling hands. The way you rubbed your palms together. How you only stick to knives for self-defense.

You had opened up about your past one night as you both sat under the starry sky, with Ellie fast asleep not far away from you. The cold temperature was extremely brutal for your hands. The ache seemed never-ending. "Do you want these?", Joel broke the silence, taking off his much thicker gloves before handing them to you. You just started at him. Of course, you had talked before. You've been on the road with him for some time now. But it always seemed cold and bitter. If there was one thing Joel was extremely good at, it was making people feel like they were the problem.

You shook your hand, inching towards the fire, moving your palms closer to the flame. Joel gazed at you, letting out a sigh. It was odd considering the type of your communication but he could feel the strange feeling bubbling inside him. The feeling would perk up if he would woke up to you by his side or if your head would fall onto his shoulder as you dozed off while keeping watch. Even when you laughed alongside Ellie, Joel couldn't help that strange sensation in his stomach.

"I would prefer if you took them. I'm not cold anyway", Joel spoke up again. "And I'm not a cripple", "I never said that", you turned to him quickly. Even in the dim light, Joel could see the tears that glossed over your eyes. "Your eyes say enough", you bit back, turning your attention to the flame in front of you. Joel wasn't sure why he was even doing this, but he moved forward, resting his hands on your shoulder. It had been weird between you two. You had kissed a couple of times. And if the first kiss was the aftermath of too much adrenaline after a near-death experience. The second time had no justification. "What happened", Joel said softly, rubbing your shoulders ever so slightly. He had once selfishly examined your hands while you slept. Joel knew that was an invasion of privacy, but his eyes caught onto the scars and his fingers moved without a second thought.

You let out a bitter laugh. "I was a bad girl. I got involved with bad people, and well, bad people do bad things", Joel had seen. Had inspected the scars and permanent discoloration that covered your hands. He wondered what had happened. Wondered who were the people that had done this. Most importantly, he wondered how good it would feel to make them slowly suffer for all that was done to you.

Joel had never done this when you two were fully awake, never fully aware. He pulled you closer to him. Your hands instantly clasped over his arm wrapped around your shoulders. Silent tears fall down your cheeks. Oddly enough, Joel had been a safe space for you. Someone you knew would go that extra mile to make sure that you were safe. "You have nothing to fear now. I've got you. You can count on me, sweet", Joel said, making you let out a silent sob as you held onto him tighter. "What if I fail to protect you though…", you whispered. Joel quickly turned you around in his arms so he could face you. "Didn't seem like a problem when you stabbed that guy in the throat", Joel said, referencing the attack in the store, but you just narrowed your eyes at him. "We have each other, and now that Ellie has a gun, believe me, we are good", you let out a light chuckle while leaning your head against Joel's chest. That was the night you saw a future in him. Leaving you to hope that Joel felt the same way.

Ellie was bubbling through all the stories of today. In all honesty, she was supposed to do her homework while you fished off with dinner, but you didn't have the heart to stop her. Seeing her so full of life was refreshing. You three haven't been in Jackson very long. A month at best, and it still seemed like a dream. Tommy had very kindly landed you a small cottage at the side of the town. They even arranged a little celebration to welcome you, Ellie, and Joel in. Joel of course snarled through most of it.

Holding onto your hips as he zoned in and out. Partly listening to the conversations you were having with people that were around him and partly just trying to ground himself. He hated places like this. There was too much buzz. Joel wasn't used to it. Not to mention the attention that was put on you three. That was way too exhausting. You would occasionally turn to him. Running your fingers through Joel's hair or simply resting your hands on top of his hands that were lazily curled over your middle.

A protective gesture. You called it Joel's circle. He did this often. Even if you two were in the comfort of your new home. His arms would wrap around your middle. The only moving space you had was within Joel's embrace. You knew it was still so hard for him to feel safe. To not fear that something was going to happen. Joel loved running over the worst scenarios. Your broody, grumpy grape. You shifted in his embrace. Your eyes searched his tired ones. "Should we make a grand outing? So that everyone would think that we are going to fuck our night away?", you said casually, making Joel let out a laugh. His bold ray of sunshine. God, that smart mouth of yours drove Joel insane. "Depends on how loud you are willing to moan", you let out a gasp, shoving him slightly, as you got lost in Joel's smile. A rare sight for sore eyes.

Everyone was quick to label you as Joel's girl. It was in a way strange at first because no matter where you went, you were met with the same greeting, but then again, you couldn't blame them. Joel watched you like a hawk. Eyes rarely left you if you were in his sight. Always looking. Always watching. Even here, he was a man who was feared. Well, besides the fact that most females were ready to hook their arms around his neck. You wondered if he ever noticed how they drooled over him. You were hoping that he didn't because if Joel chose any of them over you… Not that you had a say, but your heart would be shattered.

"And then I said that I was done with the project", Ellie continued to chirp, "But I gave you guys credit, don't worry", you let out a laugh at her words. You three had lots of fun building that paper rocket ship. Ellie came home with an assignment to build her dream. Seeing the space was one of them. So you three sat on the living room floor for hours. Small talk lingers. The plate with cookies was nearly empty. "Did you give credit to Joel's back?", you turned to Ellie, and the smirk on her face was outrageous considering that she was still a child. "Got a special mention on the title page", Ellie said sheepishly, and you two fell into fits of laughter just as Joel stepped into the kitchen.

"What are we laughing about?", Joel moved straight to you, planting a gentle kiss on the side of your head. His usual way of greeting you. You closed your eyes at the sensation, savoring the feeling of his lips against your skin. "Honestly?", Ellie asked, and Joel nodded. "How I wrote a special appreciation poem for your back because you helped with the ship", Joel rolled his eyes at that. Ellie took great joy in making fun of his age. But Joel never really cared about it. As long as she was happy, so was he.

Joel noticed the jar in your hands and how your palms flexed as you tried to open it. Without a single word, Joel placed his hands over yours. Pressing ever so slightly as he turned the lid off. You bit your lip. That was another thing that Joel did. If it wasn't necessary, he never took the things you were trying to open away from your hands. He just offered additional strength with his hands. It was his way of making sure that you didn't feel worthless. Joel would notice your struggles; he always did. But he had learned to read your body language and to know when you needed his aid and when it was best to leave you to it alone.

You turned to face him, meeting his eyes with a silent thank you that he answered with yet another kiss to your temple. "Okay, you two are doing that cute shit again", Ellie's voice made you both turn her way. "Don't you look at me like that? Will I have to drag you two to the altar or are you going to do something about it yourself?", she blurted out, making your eyes grow big. "You get back to your homework, miss, 'cause if it's not done before dinner, you're not eating", Joel pointed a warning finger the girl's way, which she graciously met by sticking out her tongue.

A light blush crept up on your cheeks. Alter seemed way out of reach. Well, for now at least. You weren't even sure if you two were together. You assumed you were, but… You had never talked. It was a silent promise. As if you claimed one another without words. Leaving it to the actions. Joel held on to you like you were his lifeline most nights. Face buried in the crook of your neck. Arms pulling you as close to his chest as possible. If nightmares clouded his mind, you would pull him closer to yourself. Gently guiding him to lay down practically on top of you as you brushed your fingers through his salt-and-pepper. hair You loved them. It was almost embarrassing that sometimes you just twirled Joel's curls between your fingers with such admiration. You knew he never found himself beautiful, but in your eyes, he was the most handsome male you had ever laid your eyes on.

"Will you grab the plate, I…", you didn't even have to finish the sentence. Joel was already moving through the kitchen. "How was patrol?", "Nothing new, although the weather is getting better", you hummed at Joel's words. The sun was shining for most of the day today, and you could tell that everyone was in a much more cheerful mood. "How was the meeting with Becky?", Becky was a woman in her eighties. She had worked many years in the medical field, especially with post-trauma treatments. You visited her every other day, and she guided you through different exercises to rebuild the strength of your hands. "It was okay, but as you can see, I can barely hold the spoon," you said as you lifted your trembling head up for Joel to see, but he didn't find much amusement in that. He feared that you pushed yourself too much with this. Stepping closer, Joel took both of your hands into him before pressing them to his lips. "Please wash your hands before you pour my bowl; I don't want Joel's saliva in it", Ellie sassed from the other side of the room. "Ellie", you said with a chuckle, and Joel threw a towel her way, making you both fall into fits of laughter.

Jackson felt like a dream. Like a lucky coin. A four-petal clover. You name it. Yet Joel still couldn't settle his mind. Now more than ever, it felt so clustered. He watched you and Ellie laughing over dinner. The table he also sat at, but did he deserve to be here? Or were you two better on your own? Joel wasn't blind; he saw how people practically melted when you walked through the streets offering everyone a smile. You brought life to an already lively town. Contributing to help anywhere and everywhere. Seeing you shift from this constantly scared girl to a lovely young woman was a huge gift to Joel.

He wanted you to live. To experience happiness and joy. He wanted you to be carefree. To dance your nights away. To be twirled around the dance floor by different males and females. You deserve to live. Something Joel probably couldn't afford to be a part of. Moments when he saw younger males looking your way, talking amongst themselves as they looked you up and down made him both unimaginably angry and jealous. First of all, you weren't an object to be gawked at. You deserved a respectful partner. And second of all, Joel knew if he had met you earlier, when he was full of life, it would have been so different. He would have given you everything. He would be the one twirling you around the dance floor. He would have taken you on dates by the river. Played you different songs on his guitar. Now that side of him was dead. Buried by all the pain. Buried beside Sarah.

"Joel…", after feeling your hand on his, Joel quickly turned your way. Your brows were crushed down. "You haven't touched your food, hun", you said softly. Joel's eyes drifted to the plate in front of him. The tightness in his throat and chest increased. As the thoughts of being only a burden swirled through his brain. Why were you here? Were you simply scared? Scared to explore something more because he was here? Would Ellie be happier if you settled for someone younger? It sure would make a more normal-looking family. Joel quickly stood up, nearly knocking the chair over as he rose. "I'm not hungry; I'm going for a walk", he said coldly as he stepped out of the kitchen. You called his name a couple of times. Joel braced himself against the fence. Hand on the chest as he tried to take in at least a single gulp of air.

You waited for Joel to return almost all night, but he didn't show up. You had wondered if you should go and try to find him, but deep down you knew that your wandering down the street in the night would only add to whatever that was going on with him. You've got Ellie ready for school. Making extra scrambled eggs and scribbling a little note for Joel. You're not alone. You can count on me, it said. A tiny heart by the end of it. Now you could only hope that it wasn't something you had done.

You pupped to help out another elderly lady while you waited for Ellie to be done with her classes. She made the most delicious meat pies and pastries. The delicious smell followed you around the bakery all day. You did as much as your hand allowed you, for the rest compensating with your smile. Already thinking about how you were going to surprise Joel with a pie that you had made yourself. He was a sweet guy deep down. And it had been way too long since you all had a proper pie.

You slipped inside the school just as the last class was finishing. The sight of Ellie nearly leaning out of her chair as she followed every word that the teacher was saying was endearing. She needed this. Needed other kids. Needed to learn. Needed to feel normal. "Y/N, right?", you quickly turned to the side. "Sorry, didn't mean to make you jump", the guy, who wasn't that much older than you, said, rubbing the back of his neck. You've seen him around, but if you were being honest, you had no clue who he was. As if sensing this, the guy quickly said, "Ben, one of Ellie's teachers. We've met at the bar". You smiled at him, "Right, yes, sorry. A lot of new faces still". Your eyes drifted back to Ellie. For some reason, you felt uneasy in his presence.

"So am… You… I'm making such a fool of myself", Ben rambled on, quickly popping into what you assumed was a teacher's room. For a split second, you wondered if you should just walk away, but Ben walked out with a big bouquet of flowers you didn't even know the name of. You raised your eyebrows in surprise. "I was hoping that you would pop in today. Got you those", you knew that you needed to say something but you felt lost for words. No one had ever gotten you flowers and… Ben carefully placed the bouquet in your hands. "You just caught my eye, and I've been wanting to ask you out. I know this is super straightforward", you shook your head, "I… they are beautiful, thank you, but… I." A part of you was screaming that this was wrong. You wanted to tell him that you were with Joel. But were you with Joel? Your head felt like it was spinning, but you just didn't feel it. It didn't feel the same. Didn't feel like it did with Joel.

"Look… I'm sure you are a really sweet guy, but I'm in a… Well, I like someone else, and I just", your voice sounded so small. You hated that you weren't confident. Ben gave an awkward nod, "Right, the big guy. I should have guessed", "I'm sorry; I'm sure there's a sweet girl out there for you. Thank you for… well, for the flowers though. Unless you want to keep them". You pushed the bouquet towards him, but he only shook his head and said, "Keep them, and I hope we can still get to know each other. Like friends, of course", you smiled at him right as the door opened and kids spilled out of the classroom.

"So, wait, he just did like… Did he kiss you?", Ellie hadn't stopped talking ever since you left the building. To her, this was the most hilarious thing ever, while you still tried to process it all. "Of course not. I would have never let him do that", you said. "Do you reckon he fantasizes about you?", you glared at her quickly. Ellie only lifted her hands in defiance.

"A pie and flowers. Are we celebrating something?", you didn't even realize that you were standing in front of the cottage with Joel leaning against the open door. You opened your mouth, but Ellie beat you to it: "Ben got Y/N flowers; bet he is like in love with her", she said as she wiggled her eyebrows at Joel. You knew this was innocent. You knew she didn't understand what was going on between you two. So you couldn't blame her, but you wished she hadn't said it like that. Joel's jaw clenched. Anger washed over him. He turned away from you moving to the back patio.

Joel knew who Ben was. Most importantly, Joel saw the way Ben looked at you. That guy was a good bit younger than him. Broad shoulders, piercing eyes. Desire burned inside him. Ben wanted you and Joel could see it. Did you want him as well? "Joel, wait, Joel,", he heard your pleading voice as he rushed down the little stairs, moving to the backside garden. "Go back to your boyfriend", Joel snarled through gritted teeth. "Ben is just Ellie's teacher. I didn't even…", Joel turned to you quickly, "Who gives you flowers", "Well, maybe he's just being sweet", you knew that you both knew that that was bullshit. And honestly, now you wondered if downplaying it would only make it worse.

"Maybe he just likes you", Joel spat back, frustration dripping off him. "Do you seriously don't see it? That fuck had a big old crush on you ever since you came here". Those words, however, did take you by surprise because you didn't see it. You never acknowledged Ben's presence. You didn't care what Ben was doing. You never looked for it. "Well, I didn't see it, no", Joel gave you a look that clearly showed you that he didn't believe you. "Oh, come on. I've never had a man show me attention before you; how am I supposed to know?", you asked, raising your hand in frustration. Growling as Joel turned and started to walk again. "Joel, stop fucking walking or I'll throw the fucking flowers at you!", you shouted as your frustration laced through you. Joel stopped in his tracks.

"Do you seriously feel like he's my type?", you approached the man in front of you slowly, dropping the flowers to the side as you walked. "Joel", "I don't know", he muttered under his breath. He wasn't good at this thing. He wasn't good with his emotions. But the fear of losing you crippled him. "Well, my type is anything but that. I like my man mature like wine or cheese", you said, moving to cup Joel's cheeks. "Come on, turn the frown upside down", you encouraged him slowly, but Joel only shifted his eyes to you. Piercing through your soul.

"Listen to me, you stubborn hulk. This", you took a hold of his hand, pulling it up and pressing it over your heart, "Beats for you. I picked you a long time ago. And if you think some thirty-something dickhead can come in and swoop me away", you shook your head. "Yeah, have more faith in yourself, especially when all of Jackson's females have an orgasm when you walk by", you sassed. "No, they don't", Joel argued, but you only crooked your head to the side, raising an eyebrow.

"Did you mean it?", Joel asked, arms now sneaking to hold onto your hips, "That my heart is yours? With my whole life", you smiled up at him. Joel leaned in. A breath hitched in your throat as he erased the last bit of distance between you two and your lips met his. You felt like you had blacked out for a moment as all the fireworks started to explode from within you. You held on to Joel for dear life as he pressed you closer to his body. His other hand cupped your cheek. It was desperate. Needy. Long overdue, and you couldn't suppress the giggle that fell from your lips as you two finally parted. Hiding your face in Joel's chest.

You could feel how fast his own heart was beating. Smiling to yourself that it was you who had such an effect on him, "I love you", he whispered. Barely audible but more than enough for you to step on your tiptoes and kiss him again. "I'm in a daring mood to let the whole of Jackson know that I am yours", you mumbled after a while in Joel's embrace. "Pick your words carefully, baby girl,", Joel warned, but you only smirked back at him. Before pulling the devilish smile, "Want to fuck me against the electricity pole?", Joel let out a surprised laugh before shaking his head at you. Scooping you up in his arms quickly, making you let out a scream followed by fits of giggles as he carried you back into the cottage.

[artbyblastweave]

I've never made any connections between Worm and the Captain America mythos before. Spill some ink?

Okay, so from a purely aesthetic perspective, the gimme is Miss Militia. She's the most obvious "Captain Patriotic" in the roster, she has the power of GUN, she's the only one who actively buys into the mythology of America specifically. She's a Kurdish woman occupying an aesthetic niche generally held by a rugged squinty white guy. She's an output of the melting pot narrative. She's sort of a rendering of what a grounded superhero who somehow became very aesthetically into America might look like. Not in the craven marketing-driven way of Homelander or Comedian, not in the jingoistic maniac way of USAgent or Peacemaker. She buys it in the broadly left-liberal (USamerican connotation of that term) safe, friendly, reclamative way. Why, what a great rehabilitation of the archetype!

She's also deeply, deeply afraid of rocking the boat. She's got a deepseated childhood trauma related to the bad things that happen when she puts herself in a leadership role. She goes along to get along. When she's proactive, it's usually to point a gun at Tattletale to stop her from upsetting the status quo. She sits through a lot of situations where Steve Rogers, as commonly modeled, would probably plant himself like a tree by the river of truth and go, "Hey, this is fucked up." She more or less capitulates to Undersider domination of the city, in a way that predisposes us to think of her as a voice of reason after all these total nuts that Skitter's been up against- but would Taylor "to relinquish control is a form of ego death" Hebert really be willing to leave someone in charge of the local Protectorate branch who she thought couldn't be corralled? She looks like a beacon, but doesn't- indeed, probably can't- ever truly behave like one. I mean, you can debate the on-the-spot morality of any given one of her judgement calls, that's actually one of the less exhausting Worm Morality Debates to have- but in aggregate, a person in American flag garb who actually meaningfully criticizes the paramilitary organization they're part of is not gonna survive long in that role!

So again, she's the gimme from an aesthetic standpoint. But what I don't really see a lot of discussion of is how Cauldron plays into the riff.

Captain America is institutional, but in a comically morally uncomplicated way. The serum was originally mana from heaven, granted to a living saint, conveniently divorced from any nitty-gritty sausage-making process and even-more conveniently divorced from the horrible consequences of giving the, uh, the U.S government a replicable super soldier process. And in fairness to Captain America, this is 100 percent something the overall mythos eventually patched to my satisfaction; the sausage-making process eventually revealed as prototypical government fuckery driven by human experimentation on black servicemen, the overall Marvel Setting littered with failed attempts by the U.S. Government to recreate that golden goose so they can have their fun new jackboots. (In Ultimate Marvel, this is how almost all contemporary superhumans were created, and this is a state of affairs with a body count in the millions or billions.)

Cauldron draws you in with the same noble rhetoric about greater goods, the same one-off proprietary irreplicable formula- but you don't get the luxury afterwards of representing nothing but the dream. You aren't partnering up with a plucky crank scientist with a heart of gold. You're selling your soul to an organization with an agenda. The narrative makes no bones about the fact that everything you do is fundamentally tainted by the fact you opted into an end product created through torture, kidnapping and human experimentation. You don't get to pull a Kamen Rider by going rogue or opting out or making good use of the fruit of the poisoned tree; you are owned, and everything you do has this Damocles sword hanging over your head- when are the people who bankrolled this going to come to collect?

So that's the question of "who would willingly dress like that" covered, and the question of who creates a serum like that. What about the question of who takes a serum like that? I'd argue that Eidolon is the examination of that. Pre-Cauldron David reads to me like pre-serum Steve Rogers viewed through a significantly bleaker lens. They're both sickly kids desperate to serve, rocketed to the pinnacle of human capability by an experimental procedure. But for Steve Rogers, the crisis was that he had a specific vision of the world and was frustrated by his inability to carry it out. Before the serum he picked fights over what was right and wrong and got his ass handed to him; afterwards he picked those same fights and just started winning instead. The serum neatly solved a problem he had, and to the extent that his mindset is influenced by his pre-serum experiences, it's generally constructive; a desire to protect the weak, help the helpless, an appreciation for people who stand up for what's right even when they're clearly gonna get pancaked for their trouble. So ultimately there's no dark side, downside, or underlying neurosis ascribed to his initial impulse to take that serum.

But with David, it's not a tragic case of the spirit being willing but the flesh being weak. He isn't a preternaturally-noble soul, out to represent the best elements of the American ideal- he kind of represents the inverse, a guy who's been failed at every level while utterly convinced that he's the problem. He's actively suicidal because he's a wheelchair-bound epileptic in an economically-depressed socially-backwards rural town in the 1980s, and he's spent his 18 years of life internalizing the idea that he's worse than useless unless he can somehow find a way provide value to something larger than himself. Doctor Mother finds him in the aftermath of a suicide attempt spurred by his rejection from the army- and he didn't even want to join the army specifically, necessarily, he just needed his situation to be literally anything else, and he took what he thought he could get. And then he finds himself in a position to become a superhero, so he does that, molds himself into that, subordinates himself to that, builds his entire sense of self and values around the value he can provide in that role. No grand design or sacred principles carried over through the metamorphosis. Just relief at finally, finally having something that looks like an answer to the question of what he's supposed to do.

And you know, you know that if Steve Rogers was facing down the barrel of being depowered, he'd smile and nod, he'd Cincinnatus that shit. It's happened before. But for David, the emotional trauma and self-worth issues that caused him to roll the dice on a Steve-Rogers treatment never really went away. When would it? He's been Providing Value as a ten-ton Hammer Against Evil for thirty years. No family, no social life. Certainly, no incentive on his handler's part to lance his Atlas complex. So he barrels towards atrocity in the name of remaining useful. Admittedly, this is where the comparison breaks down in a significant way; Captain America is much more of a symbol than he is an irreplicable powerhouse, so it's not catastrophic if he's taken off the board. Eidolon is so unbelievably powerful that his myopia and self-centeredness actually do align with a real problem everyone else is gonna have if he loses his powers. But in terms of the starting points- I think that Steve Rogers embodies the myth about why you'd want to join the army that badly. Eidolon is, I think, much more closely modelling why you'd actually want to join the army that badly.

[beloved-nyx]

𝐋𝐀𝐌𝐁 𝐓𝐎 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐒𝐋𝐀𝐔𝐆𝐇𝐓𝐄𝐑

The Lamb is devoid of sin, full of purity and devotion to the Divine. So why is the Lamb always the one to die at the end?

ft. Yan Priest/Cult Leader x GN! Reader

content. Suggestive themes, Religious Imagery, Reader has Religious Trauma, Reader is Called "My Lamb", Reader is In A Cult, Mentions of Suicide, Mentions of Blood, Reader Dies at the End, General Yandere Themes, DEAD DOVE DO NOT EAT

notes. Ummm Yikes bro this was kinda fun to write ngl. Anyway this is still like my second time writing Yandere but I didn't really push on the romance, more like I focused on the horror aspect of this. Anyway uhhh I am NOT catholic so please forgive me pookies I wrote this using my limited knowledge that I learned from a catholic school I attended when I was like in middle school.

The Lamb is a symbol of childlike innocence, of purity and selfless sacrifice. 

You had heard these words whispered every time you stepped out of your small, cramped room as your savior smiled down at you and proclaimed those sacred words.

You were sacred, he told you. 

A gift to the world, he told you.

The only good thing in this cruel, wretched place, he told you. 

You clung onto his words like they were Divine Word. You clung onto him like he was Divine Word.

You wanted to retch, to slap your naive, innocent self as you looked into the mirror.

You were dressed like royalty, white silk covering your body and jewels of ruby draped around your neck like a noose. Gold bracelets decorated your arms, and you wonder if this is what listening to Divine Words–no, what listening to the words of a mad man brings you too. 

“You look divine, my little lamb. Fit for the gods.” 

You shake out of your stupor, eyes widening as your gaze meets black, lifeless eyes. Black eyes the color of nothingness. Black eyes the color of a starless sky. 

You wonder if the Devil’s eyes are as black as his. 

His steps are light, graceful and elegant as he makes his way towards you. His white hair-a stark contrast to his dark eyes, is braided, hanging loosely on his shoulder. His lips are curled, and he’s probably happy. No–of course he’s happy, he never looked as happy as he is today. 

Cold fingers curl around your neck, and you can feel his lips next to your ear as he whispers, “White looks good on you, my lamb.” 

“Don’t call me that.” Your fingers curl, halfmoon marks etched into your palm from digging your nails into the soft flesh. You want to claw his hand off your neck. 

He doesn’t deign to give you a response, and you can feel his hands roaming downwards towards your chest, your stomach, lower and lower and you squeeze your eyes shut.

.𖥔 ݁ ˖

The Ram is a symbol of sacrifice as well. But the Ram is not as sweet as a sheep. They do not represent innocence but violence. They represent not of sweet submission but of cruel rebellion.

You tried escaping once, when you realized that you were nothing but fodder for the Divine. 

It was meaningless, sure. They were going to find you, take you away and strip the measly rights of freedom they had given you before.

But that didn’t matter when freedom was so close to becoming yours. 

You had planned for your escape for days. As your captor smiled down at you with his lifeless eyes, proclaiming your sanctity, you drew up drafts of escape plans and dreamt of seeing the stars. 

You were so, so naive. 

“How careless of you, my lamb. Don’t you know what may have befallen you outside of this sacred ground?”

You glare up at him. “Nothing worse than being locked up here like an animal!” His eyes darken at those words, but he chooses silence as his weapon. Fine, you think bitterly. I don’t need his words anyway.

That night, your dreams of freedom crumbled like chalk. 

He had taken you away to a more separate wing of the place he called a “church”, and had looked at you in a way a mother would look disapprovingly at a child. 

“Atone, and maybe the Gods will cast their mercy onto you, my lamb.” 

Fuck the Gods. If you ever came out of this place alive, you would make them beg for your mercy. 

.𖥔 ݁ ˖

They say that sacrifice is a symbolism for what life has to offer. About the sacredness of life. Of the sanctity of the divine. Of how little we all are compared to the world around us.

They had to drag you towards the altar as you kicked and screamed and shouted profanities. 

You didn’t want this. You never wanted this. But it didn’t matter, did it? All that mattered was the word of the Divine, and your captor who looked down at you with a sort of giddy look in his eyes that made you wish you had sunk a dagger into your neck instead of giving him the sweet satisfaction of…this. 

As you reached towards the altar, your captors hand reached to cup your chin, and you thrashed in his grip. 

“Open your mouth.” 

He didn’t even give you a moment for you to refuse before he pried your mouth open and made you choke on wine that looked too much for blood to your liking and stained your white clothing red in the process. 

You didn’t want this. You never wanted this. 

But when did your choice ever matter?

You think they drugged you. They probably did. As they lift you up to the altar, they’re cloaked silhouettes hiding their faces and humanity, you look up to your captor with pleading eyes. 

His lifeless eyes meet yours. 

And he grins like the Devil. 

“You were always too pure for this world anyway, my lamb.” His voice is like silk, lulling you to sleep as his eyes never blink, never look away from yours. 

“At least now you will be protected from the sin of this world. At least now, in the afterlife, you will be mine forever.” 

You wonder if God deserted you just like you deserted him. 

You wonder if God was ever there for you in the first place. 

The tip of a blade pierces flesh, and you think dully if you're now actually free. If you can now look at the stars finally. 

“You will never be free from me.”

[renthony]

Disney thoughts:

You can't make blanket statements about the quality, ethos, or artistry of Disney-owned media, because the Disney company has existed for a literal century, buys up everything they can get their hands on, employs 195,000 people as of 2022 according to Wikipedia, and spans the entire globe.

"Disney" doesn't make things, they just own them, and they buy the rights to more and more media every single day. There are countless people with genuine talent and heart making the media that Disney slaps their label on, and adopting the black-and-white mentality of "Disney = bad, therefore all Disney media = bad" is incredibly reductive and unfair to all the artists that Disney exploits.

Yes, the corporate Disney overlords censor the artists and water down the art, but doesn't that mean we should be supporting the artists even more, and showing them that we see them, their art, their passion even despite the corporation's meddling? There are so, so many artists working for Disney who are active right now on Twitter, talking in depth about the horrors of the company, but begging people to please still support their art, because Disney didn't make the art and the art still deserves to be seen. There are countless artists in a position of, "make it with Disney money or don't ever get to make it at all, because making art is fucking expensive."

Should we throw up our hands and say, sorry, Dana Terrace, you've made a delightfully charming show about a queer Latina witch girl, but it's got the Disney label on it, so fuck you? Fuck Howard Ashman while we're at it, he poured his queer experience into The Little Mermaid, but we can't talk about that because Disney Bad. Domee Shi directed a heart-filled movie about a Chinese-Canadian girl coming into her own and navigating generational trauma? Eh, it's Disney, so obviously it's not authentic, so fuck Turning Red, and fuck Encanto while we're at it! Yeah, representation matters, but Disney Bad!!!

Disney the company is evil. Disney-owned media is case-by-case. Chapek isn't sitting in his office pushing the "make movie" button. For every shitty cash-grab nostalgia-bait remake they churn out, they're still a company that owns half the world and employs countless artists trying like hell to tell genuine stories. You're not obligated to engage with them, you're not required to like them, but the bullshit take of "Disney bad, therefore everything Disney slaps its name on is just as evil" is the most asinine thing I have ever heard.

That's not even getting into their other media divisions, like book publishing or video games. They have their fingers in every single media pie that exists, and you can't solve industry-wide problems with "Disney bad, never engage with anything that has their name on it."

Some fucking nuance, people, I beg you.