#oops feelings

trigger happy havoc? that’s the idealistic one where the good guys win, where the chosen one, with some self-doubt, goes through trials and tribulations but ultimately realizes that he IS worthy of standing alongside his friends. His darkest hour is when the world is against him, but he makes it out there with his resolve intact. And he and his friends resolve to help the world, and it’s wonderful and hopeful and it feels impossible for me to actually do in these times.

soup dr 2 is the one where the entire cast failed. kinda. i’m not a big fan of the dr3 anime, but the fact that everyone got super depression and ended the world is kinda how it feels to fail for a long time for the first time. their darkest hours were self-doubt, hopelessness, and feeling like nothing could get better, which they SUCCUMBED to and wallowed in. And OH BUDDY, i feel that.

as flawed as dr is, i really think it’s a very Teenage experience-- extreme emotions, outdated problematicness, clashing ideals. And the usage of terms like Graduation totally help that along. Coupled with the whole concept of “ultimates,” it plays into extremeness and categorizing people that im staring to think teens (and beyond?) just like doing, just to make sense of the world, like with hogwarts houses and shit.

thh is what i wish i was, but sdr2 feels like what i am.

((v3 is thematically lost on me because it feels more like a meta dr game meant to dissect danganronpa at the surface level, instead of it’s predecessors themes. im having a hard time drawing school metaphors out of it. whoops))

thh feels like it’s about people who know what they’re gonna do, and it’s inspiring, but intimidating. They fought their way to the top, and stayed on top despite everything the world threw at them.

here’s the THING

you can’t build a secure comfort in yourself by obsessively translating a Bible verse in only one single specific way and anything else still means you’re going to hell. You can’t! You especially can’t build a secure and lasting foundation based on something you read on tumblr. There are a lot of people who don’t fucking know what they’re talking about here. You know that, right? Just by the fact that there are so many people who don’t know what they’re talking about, a random-ass tumblr post is not a secure foundation, even if its points are technically correct.

I mean, honestly, don’t rely on prooftexting at all. Prooftexting is a goddamn trap, and there is nothing, nothing you can say that will convince a religious homophobe who doesn’t want to be convinced that it’s not a sin to be queer. You could have the most up-to-date scholarship available on the clobber texts in your hands and they would look right in your face and tell you that you’re interpreting based on liberal, sinful bias.

Maybe it’s helpful for people who want to be convinced. Still a flimsy fucking foundation! If the clobber texts can be prooftexted any which way, if it’s all dependent on what you want to believe, then they’re not a foundation at all. If you, a queer person, need it to feel secure in your heart, the alternate interpretations are always going to haunt you. If you, an ally, find it comforting, it’s nothing more than a fig leaf to support your own grace and desire to love people for who they are.

Prooftexting is bullshit, the Bible was written by a bunch of humans from multiple different cultures which were all drastically different from our own, the Bible was not MADE to be prooftexted. The only way I ever found security was learning to be ok with the idea that maybe the people who wrote those passages meant exactly what the homophobes say they do, and if that’s the case? they were wrong. You want to be secure in yourself, you have to be secure in yourself. You can’t hang it on the whims of translation and interpretation.

A little Xaela of eight summers sat on top of a cliff, bruised skinny legs dangling from the edge, small spaded tail tapping against the grass and gravel. The bright ginger hair was a giant mane of unruly curls, golden eyes already growing to that sharp, piercing stare as they gazed somewhere towards the horizon.

Waiting, always waiting.

It had been two cycles now, but he still remembered. The small, crying child, left alone by an unfortunate hunting accident. They shouldn’t have tried to kill that beast without the others. He remembered the faces of his disgruntled relatives, forced to take him in as one of their own.

He wasn’t loved there.

But then, he had come for him. Luvshan remembered the large, calloused hand stroking his hair, the soothing smile stealing the loneliness away. He remembered the broad, strong back, cheerfully carrying him around on piggyback, the loud, booming laughter echoing through his whole being. It had made him laugh as well.

And then he was gone, along with the summer. His hands, his smile, his laugh. And the dirty, slight Au ra was alone once again.

But he promised to come back.

He would come back.

Ever since Childermass found him that night, mind still trapped in the fog of darkness, Jonathan always felt cold. He would wake thrashing, his voice trapped in his throat as if whatever he had seen on the other side of the rain still had its claws in him.

There were nights he would wander, mumbling as if there was something there only he could see and that is when Childermass decided to stay. Jonathan would watch him from the bed, the circles beneath his eyes only growing worse as sleepless nights passed. Until one night Childermass stood to leave and he found Jonathan there, fingers softly gripping his arm. 

“Stay.” He barely spoke above a whisper but it had been the first comprehensible thing he had said since being found. Childermass felt an ache in his chest, thinking of the man he once knew and looking upon the man he had become. 

“Will do, sir.” Jonathan gave him a weak smile and pulled him to the bed and Childermass did not even bother to change clothes, only leave his shoes on the floor next to them. He pulled the covers over them both, Jonathan facing towards him. Childermass let out a sound of surprise as Jonathan clung to him, pulling him tight against his chest as his body slowly calmed and his breathing became steady. It was the first night Jonathan had felt warm and at long last slept soundly. Childermass felt something open up in his chest, a strange comfort in that moment between them that had him feeling safe and he placed a gentle kiss upon Jonathan's shoulder. A silent promise to not leave, one that Jonathan may never even know about but one made nonetheless.