#cw persecution

[the-sun-and-the-craftsman]

The Sun and the Craftsman - Chapter 4

Content warnings for this chapter are at the bottom and tagged!

For more info, read the pinned post here.

It’s been two days since Ashur’s had to deal with humans, and that’s been a welcome relief. 

He sits in the kitchen, watching the oven in front of him. He can hear the sound of sand trickling through the hourglass on top of the counter, but he doesn’t look at it—he'll know it’s done when the sound stops. The scent of fresh-baked cake fills the area around him, only serving to make him hungrier. 

Slowly, he lifts his arm to his parted jaws and sets it inside. His jaws move like molasses as he gradually sinks his teeth into his own flesh. A sting of pain reminds him that he’s not supposed to do that—he silences it with a quick magical flick to the nerves in his arm, cutting all of them off. 

His own ichor tastes sharp and vibrant. 

He’s done this kind of thing—cleaving his own flesh, that is—plenty of times before, even in front of that particular batch of humans. There’s no reason a little head injury should’ve fooled them, but, by himself, it did. They actually thought he lost his memory, and they actually trusted him to toss their sorry asses back to where they came from. 

He chews slowly and methodically, extracting every bit of flavor from the chunk of his arm before sending it to his stomach, which reacts with a hungry pang. Sand continues to pour. 

The kitchen’s a mess. Ashur doesn’t need to look to know that he’s left all of his supplies out, from the mixing bowls and baking trays to the dashes of flour across the counter and the stained cutting boards dripping with juices of fruit that didn’t even make it into the recipe before Ashur had devoured it. But it doesn’t matter, there’s no one to judge him for his hunger anymore. 

He takes another bite, feeling his teeth scuff against the bone in his arm. 

This has been all of today and yesterday. Yesterday he had cooked a few new types of pizza that he had been aching to try, and today it’s all been cakes and other sweets.  Tomorrow, he thinks, maybe he’ll go to some other world and try some new restaurants, have someone else cook for him for once. It’s been a long time since he’s established himself as the bane of buffets. 

A flash of magic catches his attention—there's a new presence on Ana. He quickly heals his arm, flesh growing over the missing pieces. Standing up, he grabs a nearby towel to wipe the ichor off and, feeling nothing on the arm he grew back, reactivates the nerves threading through it. After tossing the towel on top of one of the nearby piles, he heads over to the balcony connected to the kitchen, his mind whirling with possibilities. Was this something he had planned and then forgotten about? Was it somebody forcing their way in? They got past the shield without breaking it, and normally, only his magic can do that—is it another apotheon somehow forcing their way in?! 

He steps out onto the wooden balcony and peers down, looking toward the direction where the magic came from. And he sees a familiar tall figure wrapped in a long, dark brown duster. 

Oh. Right. He gave Darius his portal rune. Well, he didn’t think the little bastard would actually come back. 

Sighing, he darts back inside and through the winding depths of his tree, heading down to the root system where his exits are. Climbing out of one of the basements and into the small field surrounding his tree before it turns to his orchards, he stands up and approaches Darius. 

“Two days,” he says with a wry chuckle. “You couldn’t even stay away from me for two days!” He grins as he trots toward the haggard-looking figure. Darius is always looking like he has something to complain about, but now, looking at him from behind, Ashur can see how much pain he’s in, can see the dirt caked on him, matting his hair—he can sense Darius’ nerves firing off pain and panic and a whole cocktail of desperate human emotions. 

Darius turns around, shooting Ashur a glare with those deep brown eyes. And glancing Darius’ body up and down makes Ashur stop in his tracks. 

The noose around his neck is new. 

The two of them lock eyes for a few moments. Ashur’s gaze follows the rope as it trails down Darius’ body and along the ground, ending in a tight knot around a snapped branch. 

Darius wrenches the noose from his neck, struggling to loosen it and pull it over his head before whipping it at the ground. Ashur steps back, looking down at the branch. It must’ve come from a tree on Earth—he just hopes it doesn’t have one of those messed up Earth blights. He gingerly traces a path around Darius and picks up the branch, letting fire spring from his hand to set it ablaze. 

“You’re...so...” Darius pants, latent rage in his tone, but words seem to fail him as his glazed-over eyes wander from Ashur’s position. 

“I didn’t do this,” Ashur scoffs, taking the branch in his other hand and cracking it in half. Both pieces soon crumble to nothing but embers, and he drops them in the dew-soaked grass at his feet. “I can get a lot more creative than just hanging you.” 

“You sent me back!” Darius says lowly. 

“You never told me you’d get hanged,” Ashur says with a shrug. “In fact, you never really told me anything about where you came from.” 

Darius shakes his head, then does a double-take at Ashur. 

"Right,” he says. “You have your memory.” 

Ashur sighs. 

“I never lost it,” he says. 

Darius blinks. 

“Dirty liar,” he growls under his breath, and Ashur feels a sting course through him. 

“I am not!” he snaps, looking Darius in the eyes. 

“You lied to us! You said you lost your memory!” 

“Did I say it?” Ashur asks. “Or did you and the others just assume it?” 

Darius opens his mouth to speak, but nothing comes out. Ashur watches the memories pass Darius by as the human clearly tries to come up with some example where Ashur had been blatantly lying. Eventually, he settles on the best he can come up with. 

“You never denied it,” he whines. “You just let us think that you’d lost your memory, which is a form of lying!” 

“Is it, though?” Ashur asks coyly. He strides to the discarded noose and reaches down to lift it with one finger, feeling its rough, frayed edges as he toys with it. “All I did was walk around with a wound on my head asking people who they were. If that counted as lying, then I guess you also lied to me about your criminal past, walking around acting like you were innocent.” 

“I’m not a criminal!” Darius says with a force that makes Ashur flinch back—he's never heard Darius’ voice so loud. “It’s not a crime if nobody would bring him to justice!” 

Ashur likes this feeling. Finally, after months of messing with this guy just to have him shut himself up in his house for years afterward, he’s got him right where he wants him. 

“Ah,” he says. “A crime of passion!” 

He swears he can feel the heat radiating from Darius’ body. 

“I’m not a criminal!” Darius repeats, taking a step toward Ashur, then very quickly backing off as he remembers who he’s talking to. “You would do the same thing in my shoes!” 

Ashur, in turn, closes the distance between them. “And what would that be?” he asks, fiddling with the rope in his hands, stretching up on his toes until the tips of their noses are almost touching. 

Darius hesitates, glancing away from Ashur, as if there’s someone else who could intervene. Finally, he sighs through his nose and closes his eyes. 

“The man killed my parents,” he says in a steady, even tone. 

Ashur’s eyes widen. He lets the rope fall from his hands. Darius continues. 

“Right in front of me,” he says, his voice betraying some of his pain. “Didn’t know I was there. If he did, he would’ve killed me too.” 

The two of them stand there for a moment, face to face. Darius closes his eyes. 

Ashur can’t help but feel a twinge of that kind of pain too, even if his own parents are only an idea in his mind. 

“They tried to kill you for killing your parents’ murderer?” Ashur asks, gesturing down to the rope on the ground. 

“Yes,” Darius says. “But, I was expecting it. He was a nice, upstanding white man with no qualms. And I was a rough colored boy with an axe to grind. I wouldn’t expect you to understand.” 

“Why?” Ashur asks. 

“You’re white, too,” Darius says. 

Ashur laughs. “I’m not white,” he says. 

Darius frowns. “You’re white with a tan.” 

“Whatever.” Ashur shakes his head. He’s not gonna fight this battle right now. “So, they tried to kill you for a stupid reason. And I’ve gone after you for stupider reasons.” 

“But you’ve never actually tried to kill me,” Darius says. “So it made sense to come back here.” 

Ashur sighs. Looks like he’s gonna have to get creative. 

“Why don’t you come inside?” he asks. He picks up the rope and winds it up, working to untie the slipknot at the end. “We can talk about your options now that you’re here.” 

Nodding, giving a shuddering sigh, Darius follows Ashur as he heads inside.

CW: mentions of head injury, lynching, deceit, persecution, death of a parent or guardian, murder, and racial tension descriptions of auto-cannibalism and fire. 

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[sonik-kun]

"If Jiang Cheng is all about debts, he should repay his debts to Wen Qing and Wen Ning!"

What debts? The two were from a sect that decimated his own. Be it willingly or not, they occupied the burned remains of his sect and helped the war effort on the Wen side (whilst assisting WWX and JC, but bear in mind, WQ only did it begrudgingly due to the risks associated with asissiting them. It's funny that y'all would jump to her defence whilst shitting on JC when she was in the exact same position he was in btw. But that's a debate for another day~).

Expecting him to pay a debt to the people that were, to at least some degree, complicit in numerous genocides is pretty messed up.

Even then, JC DID vouch for them to express his gratitude for helping him and WWX to escape and get their parent's remains back. But the other leaders shut him down when he did and scoffed at him. I feel like I've said this so many times on here, but he was in no position to argue any further on the matter. Especially when a more established sect leader like LXC was shut down, too.

As for the core transfer that he didn't consent to, how can he thank someone for that when he never knew it had happened in the first place?? Or asked for, for that matter?? The whole thing made him feel shitty anyway when he found out about it.

WQ and WWX, although both had good intentions, still had no right to experiment on him like that and keep this very invasive secret from him for so long, too. You can't just do something for someone without them knowing or consenting and expect them to repay that "debt" when you find yourself in a pinch. That's kinda like blackmail and is very coercive.. Something WWX and the Wen sibs are certainly not..

Then there's the situation with WN. Sure, he could be thankful for WN helping to get him to safety and treating his wounds (which, see my earlier point, JC did express gratitude.) But that opportunity kinda all fizzled out when WN killed JZX (I know it was an accident due to him being under the influence of DC but let's be real. That resentment is going to be there. Espeically since the topic greatly upsets JL soooo).

Even all that aside, you seriously can't expect JC to "repay his debts" and help WN and WQ out of that situation when the whole CW was against them. Helping them was suicidal and would bring on the wrath of the other major sects. And we all saw how that went for WWX (as JC rightly predicted)..

Had JC sided with the Wens and took them in to "pay his debts," he would have dragged the whole of his sect into the siege that happened soon after. This would mean more innocents would have been involved, and it would be the destruction of Lotus Pier all over again (and quite possibly the destruction of the Jiang, too). JC had to prioritise his own people. He would be a shit leader otherwise.

I feel as though some of y'all put some unrealistic expectations on JC when assessing his character. Especially when you compare him to the others in the story (returning back to my point I made earlier about him and WQ and how similar they both are).

On the topic of "debts" though, I would also like to argue that doing a good deed out of the kindness of your heart shouldn't be seen as a debt. And if you do something with the expectation that someone would do something for you back in kind, wouldn't that make you a shitty person? Is that what you're implying the Wen sibs are (or should be) ? Self-serving people who only help others if something is to be gained? 🤨

But what about the "debt" JC goes on about, you might ask? Oh, you mean the PROMISE that WWX made HIMSELF? That he would stay by JC's side? And be his subordinate? To fulfil his role as promised and expected of him?

That wasn't a debt.

WWX construed it as being one, but it doesn't fit the criteria, honestly. What WWX had was an obligation. He made that promise himself, and JC held him to it. It wasn't one JC forced him into as some form of servitiude, nor was it made in return for bed and board or something.

We know JC isn't truly about holding debts over others. If he was, he would have dangled his own sacrifice over WWX and used that to guilt trip him instead. Or force him to pay him back in kind. But he never did. Why? Because he loved WWX, and he didn't want him to feel "indebted" to him. Especially when WWX revealed his feelings of "letting go and moving on" to him.

You could go on forever about debts and who owes who what, but the thing is, each of these characters have hurt eachother in one way or another that at this point, the notion of who owes what doesn't matter anymore. The situation is far more complex than that. That's why all "debts" were dropped at the end, and JC and WWX just moved on. I feel that was the message MXTX tried to convey in her work. About moving on and letting go of grudges. Perhaps JC antis should take on that advice? And move on too?

[deluxewhump]

Pride of Princes

A standalone story in the Blackmuir Reign verse ~150 years before Therrin Blackmuir takes the throne. This story is complete, around 12k words. This is part one.

CW: fantasy setting with a monarchy, fantasy politics, fantasy religious tensions, pressure to convert, torture, beatings, burning, threat of execution, imprisonment, defiant whumpee, forced/arranged marriage, polygamy, sex, court drama 

Characters and terms:

King Thyran Blackmuir (tie-run) 55- Therrin’s great great grandpa. Has ruled 30 yrs at this time and recently suffered an illness (stroke)

Prince Aedric Blackmuir (A-drick, strong A sound) 32 - the eldest prince and heir. Has one brother Cedric and two peaceweaver brides, Esther and Miline. Has one child with Esther, 6yo Esti. 

Roan Barrowfen (Row-n, rhymes with shown) 28- noble-born second son of Randall Barrowfen, of the easterly reaches. Given (unwillingly) as a peaceweaver to Aedric 

Tercet The new official religion being implemented by the Blackmuir crown. (Also a term in poetry, but here it's the name of a religion lol) The Tercet has three sections of religious importance that focus on commerce, agriculture, and the sanctity of law (the monarchy). 

Peace-weaver (Old English: freothwebbe)- Anglo-Saxon tradition of marrying women to an enemy tribe in hopes of mingling bloodlines and encouraging future peace between the groups. Peaceweavers here are specifically matched to smooth over a current conflict in the region, and not the same designation as matches to strengthen alliances or procure wealth. I prefer it as one word, not hyphenated.

Other notes: 

Title from The Wanderer.

Polygamy is encouraged for royalty at this time in the Blackmuir rule, if they are peaceweaver matches. Peaceweavers can be any level of nobility, but the first bride's children are typically the only ones recognized as viable heirs, unless they do not bear one or the heirs do not survive, and then it goes down the line to the second spouse. As you can imagine this causes lots of problems, but not in this story. 

This is loosely inspired by the history/legend of Saint Juliana by Cynewulf, as told in the Exeter book. 

_

1.

Prince Aedric was fast asleep when he was roused by Juliana, a timid handmaiden of his first bride, Esther. She never entered Aedric’s chambers, certainly not without invitation, or her mistress’s presence. 

“Prince Aedrick,” she said, giving a hurried bow. Her head was uncovered, her hair in two mussed braids as if for sleep. 

Aedric cast his eyes about the room for signs that something was amiss. He heard nothing from the open door of his chamber, or from the eastern window that caused any alarm. The fire was still burning in the hearth. He could not have been asleep for more than a few hours. 

“Juliana,” he said sharply. “Esther? Esti?”

“Are both well, sire. I don’t come on her behalf.”

“Then why? What is it?”

The girl pursed her lips and looked behind her, as if someone might be standing in the doorway in pursuit. “I wish to tell you something, but I fear it is not my place.”

Aedric sat up further in bed, his head still thick with sleep. “It must be important, to wake me in the middle of the night. Have out with it.”

“I only mean to serve you and my lady’s interests.”

“…Yes, Juliana. I know. I’ll… make sure there are no repercussions.”

She nodded solemnly. That had been her concern. “I was not told to come to you.”

“I understand. What is it?”

“The lord from the far reaches. He arrived this afternoon.”

Aedric frowned. He’d been recently betrothed. It was to be his third peaceweaver match, and the first to be male. The match was the youngest son of a Barrowfen from the easterly reaches, that wild and unforgiving marshland he’d visited as a boy and never had any desire to visit again. The reaches were an insular and stubborn region of his father’s vast kingdom that had caused some difficulty of late, but Lord Barrowfen was prompt with the annual taxes, and receptive to the new religious order.

But if his new betrothed had arrived in the afternoon, why had he not been called to meet him? Why had he not been sent to him directly, as Esther and Miline had been? He asked Juliana as much.

“The king. He is speaking to him now, in the Oath Hall. He is displeased.”

“Why?”

Juliana shifted her weight, nervously twisting at a small silver ring on her right hand. “He is refusing the Tercet, my lord. It’s caused some trouble.”

Aedric shook his head. “Why has he come all this way,  just to protest when he got here?”

“I-I don’t know, sire. I don’t think he wanted to come.”

Aedric raised his brows. 

“I know nothing more than this. I only wanted you to be aware. They’re very displeased with him, my prince.”

“Go,” he said, throwing off his covers. “I need to dress.”

She hesitated, wringing her fingers bloodless.

“Your name will not be mentioned,” he assured her. “Go.”

_

Aedric wondered if he’d ever been in the Oath Hall at such an hour. Every brazier was lit, casting jumping shadows on the high stone walls. His father sat elevated on his dais, attended by two knights, his favorite Tercet cleric in robes of snowy white, and several members of his court. 

Aedric’s eyes swept over them in turn. All had turned to watch him enter, and soon their eyes turned to their king to gauge his reaction to the prince’s intrusion. 

“It’s late, Aedric,” came Thyran Blackmuir’s weakened voice from his throne. A sudden illness had struck him before spring’s last snowmelt, and he had not been the same since. 

“Indeed it is, Your Grace,” Aedric answered. “What matter could not wait until after we had all slept and breakfasted?”

At the base of the dais stood a young man in modest clothing, unmoving, with his gaze fixed on the stones beneath his feet. Aedric gave him a wide berth as he approached, looking to see if this was the peaceweaver he’d been sent a portrait of in the initial negotiations. It appeared to be. He was of a similar height as Aedric, and though he could only see his bowed profile, it seemed to be the Barrowfen from the picture — Roan, was his name, or else it was someone strikingly similar. The portrait had looked promising.

He was of a similar age as Aedric as well, highborn, and unrelentingly beautiful, with dark hair and green-brown eyes, high easterly cheekbones, and a particular, intriguing smile that Aedric hoped was not just the flattery of the artist, but a look the subject had worn while sitting for the sketch.

“Hello,” he said, standing to the nobleman’s right, a safe six feet of distance between them. 

Roan Barrowfen gave him the barest glance, looking up without lifting his head. Their eyes met for only a moment and he returned them to the floor, his jaw set in something between determination and fear. Aedric was mildly stung by the sheer disregard of the exchange, a disregard he was unaccustomed to. 

“Is this my new peaceweaver, then?” Aedric asked, addressing his father. “Is this Roan Barrowfen?”

“It is,” the king answered wearily, his left eye now permanently drooping like a melting clay doll. 

“Why was I not sent for?” he asked, in front of the men of court, the cleric, and the knights. “Surely there must be some reason I was not sent to greet him upon his arrival?”

“Sit,” bade his father. 

“I prefer to stand, Your Grace.”

Aedric was nothing if not a loyal firstborn son, but he was not as docile as he might be. He tried to remain respectful to his father, the king, especially in front of members of court, but he would not be seen as a mincing puppet, either. And the king could be stubborn.

Of late, that concern had flagged. His father was not the man he was the year before, or the thirty years of his rule before that. He sometimes lost his train of thought, or his words entirely, and spent much of his days in bed. 

“Your betrothed has insisted on an act of….of  treason since his… arrival,” managed the King. 

Cleric Alfonsus looked down from the dais at Roan Barrowfen with a disdainful sort of pity. 

“What treason is that?”

The King motioned at his cleric, inviting him to speak and save him the trouble.  

“Lord Barrowfen maintains the false gods of the easterly reaches,” explained the cleric in a smooth voice, still powerful enough to project. Aedric admitted his unnervingly blue eyes and unrelenting gaze gave him an air of authority. His arms were folded together in the white fabric of his robes of office, hiding his hands, which Aedric thought was another apt metaphor. “He has denounced the Tercet, and by extension, the authority of the King.”

Aedric could have laughed. The Tercet was a fledgling religion, breeding in several pockets of the north for only two generations before gaining fast favor these last ten years. When he was a boy, no one had even spoken of the Tercet, the three-deity trident of land, commerce, and law. It was about as relevant as whoever this easterly man’s far-flung gods might be. And now it was treason to refuse them?

 “I’m sure this is a thing being done on principle,” he said amiably, opening his hands toward his father and the cleric. Even the knights were looking at him. “A well-intentioned principle, at that. Your Grace, is not the point of a peaceweaver to make peace? Peace is not something that can be expected upon arrival, or overnight.”

“The terms were clear,” answered the cleric, speaking over Aedric’s last word. “Randall Barrowfen sent a letter with his son. He knew this might happen, and in it he outlines his sincerest regrets, along with fealty to the Tercet and the king. His son’s life, if not as a peaceweaver, can be of some use as a forfeit.”

Aedric made a sour face. “Forfeit? To be an example, you mean? That is the perfect opposite of the goal we have in making this arrangement.”

The cleric continued. “Rejection of the Tercet directly undermines-”

“Your Grace,” Aedric cut him off, addressing his father. “This is mad. Put a swift end to it.”

With some difficulty, the King adjusted in his straight backed throne, a simple and elegant design of carved wood meant as an homage to humility and efficiency. “Your Esther and…Miline are worthy brides, Aedric. They are peaceweavers, and they are Muirish now. They serve a purpose. This…” he waved a hand irritably, “open dissent is not something I can ignore. I will not have a hostile…. traitor at my table. Bearing…. our name.”

“Hostile traitor,” Aedric echoed in disbelief. He wondered, not for the first time since his illness, if those were his father’s words, or repeated words of Cleric Afonsus.  “Has he spoken of any plans to murder any of us in our sleep?”

“No,” said the nobleman in question. Aedric turned to him, surprised he’d spoken. “But I will not abandon my gods for you. Or for the king.”

A murmur of offense broke out among the men in attendance. 

“I am a theurgist for the gods of our land,” he continued, looking up at Aedric with his head still slightly bowed. His eyes looked greener in the light of the braziers, and he had a high color on his cheeks that Aedric couldn’t discern between a sign of good health or the start of a fever. “I will serve my gods, and my gods alone.”

“A theurgist. You conjure your gods?”

“On behalf of others,” he answered. “As much as it is in my ability to do so. And if they answer.”

“And where are they at this moment?” he asked quietly, directed only to the foreigner. He meant it in a friendly, exasperated sort of jest, but Roan Barrowfen dropped his eyes like it had been a taunt.

Aedric set his jaw and looked back to the dais. “Give me the night, Your Grace. Let me speak to him privately, as I expected to do upon his arrival.”

“When you arrived,” said the king, “I had just sentenced him to the holding cells. He will….await there. Await his…ah,” he struggled for the word. “His trial.”

A pit of dismay formed in Aedric’s stomach. They had only exchanged one letter, but it had been promising. Roan Barrowfen was clearly well versed in his letters, and well spoken. He’d seemed modestly eager for the arrangement. Had he not realized he would have to, at least publicly, lay down his gods and his theurgic practices to do so? Another thought— had he even written the letter? Had he come of his own free will at all?

Aedric wished he could speak his true mind to his father, but there were lines he knew better than to cross in the Oath Hall.

“He will have a chance to recant, Aedric,” said the King, as if he were placating Aedric when he was a petulant child, over some small matter. “He will have many chances.”

He thought the wording of that promise to be ominous. Many chances? Did they intend to harm him in hopes of eliciting it, like a confession from a criminal? A highborn? Betrothed to the prince? Roan Barrowfen seemed to take the same meaning from the words. His chest rose and fell with noticeably faster breaths, but he did not move a single muscle. Aedric felt a sharp pang of protective sympathy towards this stranger he’d so been looking forward to meeting. 

“I ask you to reconsider this,” he appealed again. “It’s highly reactionary, Your Grace, for naught but some words.”

The king only motioned weakly to the knights, who came forward and took the prisoner under each arm, leading him away. He stumbled, but caught his footing and went willingly. Aedric stood rooted to the spot as the King rose from the throne. Others followed, and Oath Hall began to empty. 

Cleric Alfonsus stepped down from the dais carefully so as not to trip over his robes. He fixed Aedric with his deliberate gaze. “Naught but some words,” he repeated as he passed him. It felt like an admonition. 

The following morning, Prince Aedric learned that the trial was set for a full month away. Roan Barrowfen’s noble status required three representatives from his home to travel to the Muirkeep to sit on the jury. Aedric knew this would influence the outcome, but he was not confident it would be in the way he’d like. Lord Barrowfen himself had condemned his son with that letter, to appease the king. Whoever came from the reaches was likely prepared to do the same.

The final decision would be the king’s, but that would undoubtedly be influenced by the clerics, as it was a religious matter. That was a fact that had been concerning him of late— more and more seemed to fall to the discretion of the Tercet leaders, namely Cleric Alfonsus. 

After speaking with his father to no avail, he did the other thing in his power. He went down to the cells. 

Next

[chestersbraincell]

2 giggle-worthy hyperfixations at the same time…

I don’t think my psyche can handle it….

[stressedjester]

It's always funny to get into an argument here and 1 or 2 of your friends will defend you and the person starting shit will call them your "cult". like wow in a roundabout way you basically just said you don't know what it's like to have friends that support you

[autisticaradiamegido]

how have we not seen destiny as a troll yet???

day 36

oh god you're right who AM i????

anyway here she is. her favorite anime is sugoi quest for kokoro. maybe she runs a sakura katana stan account somewhere.

yall remember derspit? i remember derspit. maybe someday i'll get her godtier drawn up.

this is the symbol for the cringe aspect btw:

[redtail-lol]

I don't understand how some Christians genuinely believe they're oppressed or persecuted for being Christians. Yeah some select people are Weird About Religion but Christians are not widely persecuted at large in western society. They're extremely privileged.

Like yes I can surface-level "rationalize" by saying it's just that the ultra-bigoted Christians aren't legally allowed to refuse service to gay people or treat trans employees like shit anymore, or that actual science that contradicts the Bible gets taught in schools because it's evidence based, and they think this equates persecution because their religion was demoted from unofficially a national truth to something you choose to practice privately that can't be forced on others. But my lack of empathy makes me have to point to every example that Christians still have extreme privilege in the western world that they colonized because the surface level rationalization isn't enough, I genuinely still don't get it.

Christians, the whole world gets breaks on your holidays, something not afforded to other religions unless their major holiday happens to be close to yours. Other religious people have to ask for breaks to observe their holidays. By default you get yours. Christians, schools do events for your holidays before the breaks, singling out yours over the others. Other religious people are sometimes forced to participate in a tradition for your holiday, often the commercialized version of it but sometimes with a religious aspect (for example, my school's choir sang Christian songs for their christmas concert.) Christians, shops close early on Sundays because it's your special day of the week. This only moderately inconveniences others, but still showcases that your religion is catered to. Christians, the people in the political world of the west are by and large Christians, and they often let their Christian beliefs shape their political decisions. LGBTQ people didn't have rights to exist for many, many years, because the Bible said homosexuality was a sin (even if this is a mistranslation, original verse was about gay incest). Women were denied rights based on Biblical gender roles. Churches are found more frequently than any other religious center in the western world, and they're tax exempt.

If you want actual religions that are persecuted, look at Muslims. Visibly Muslim people are shown racism as well as being treated like terrorists for merely being Muslim. People assume they're the most extreme, misogynistic, queerphobic religion because that's all their religion is painted to be (despite the fact their beliefs are very similar to those of Christianity in those regards, and progressive Muslims exist the same way progressive Christians do.) Look at Jewish people. They're the centers of conspiracy theories that do successfully prey on people, the Holocaust happened, and today people are using Palestine as a shield to be actual neo-Nazis. Look at the dozens of erased non-Abrahamic religions that are treated as props like Buddhism by westerners if they're not entirely forgotten.

Being a Christian is a privilege. The worst you'll ever face for being a Christian is some people being weird about religion. That sucks but that's not oppression. And some Christians are just as weird about non- christians all the time. You don't have to make up oppression that doesn't exist because of people being antitheist dipshits that hold no power in the real world, or because you're not allowed to use your beliefs as an excuse for contributing to actual oppression

[hazbinbabbling4ever]

I think purity culture has ruined fandoms: everyone is so ansty to prove how pure they are that they attack and harass people horribly and call it "activism". Be it people attacking teenagers in the Marauders fandom because there's this new rule you can't even write the words Harry Potter without summoning a hoard of naysayers who accuse you of endorsing holocaust or some shit just for liking something linked with Miss Black Mold, or be it people harassing SA victims who still dare say they find solace in their old NG's fandoms, in the stories they loved and made theirs from their childhoods or as adults. This uglyness that runs into tumblr and is infecting every fandom, every social media actually, is so fucking gross. Putting the blame of the evils of consumerism or rich people onto the single person reeks of late stage activism. No one knows what to do anymore, so we start eating each others, and then purity culture morphs into these extreme forms of harassment, that are becoming more and more normal by the day.

I'm starting to get tired of the internet as a whole.

[allthecanadianpolitics]

The Provincial Health Services Authority (PHSA) did not consistently provide access to mental health and substance use services for Indigenous people in British Columbia correctional centres, according to B.C.'s Office of the Auditor General.

A statement from the office of Auditor General Michael Pickup says the PHSA — which has been responsible for health care in B.C.'s 10 correctional centres since 2017 — "could not confirm whether Indigenous clients entering correctional facilities were provided necessary mental health and substance use services, assessed appropriately or if discharge care plans were in place for their release."

An audit of 92 files of Indigenous clients from 2019 to 2021 found gaps in monitoring and oversight by the PHSA attributed to limited capacity of its client health information system and a lack of client file reviews. [...]

"After looking at these files, we found that the PHSA Is not fully delivering on what it is supposed to do," Pickup said in a news conference on Thursday. "And frankly, the PHSA needs to do better to care for Indigenous people in correctional centres." [...]

Fewer than half of Indigenous client files in the sample had a complete care plan for mental health and/or substance use services. About 80 per cent of clients received some services, while around 20 per cent received no services. [...]

Continue Reading.

Tagging: @politicsofcanada

[swan2swan]

"So we must ask: why? Why did I see a Jewish symbol in an episode celebrating Jewish culture and have a sudden gag reflex? Learned antisemitism, perhaps?" YES. Absolutely antisemitism. Post over, let's all go home.

Yes, and what's causing the antisemitism? Is it the symbols being included in children's show? Nah. That's Good Stuff. That's enrichment! Education! Inclusion! That's Representation Done Right!

The problem is that there's a bunch of people out there cool with killing others who say "Ah-ah-ah! You can't be mad at me! See, I have a pass!" and hold up a blue and white flag with a star on it. Which means people who actually respect and treasure that star, along with human life, then have to say "Um, hey, no, indiscriminate killing is very, very wrong! In fact, killing itself is wrong!"

Let's make it simple:

^ Good. VERY, VERY, GOOD.

^ Bad. VERY, VERY BAD.

Note that the gold star on blue doesn't do anything bad in my brain (especially because after the initial shock, I was prepared and I adjusted). The star itself isn't the issue! It's the very specific blue on white.

NOW.

If you want me to take my argument further...THIS is what antisemitism looks like.

Thankfully, scrolling through the comments after that first ugly comment bit me in the face didn't show me any others, but...there's some antisemitism. Not "oh, wow, that innocent expression of religion in a kid's show reminded me that there's a genocide going on, and this time that flag is for the villains", but "THA EVIL JEWS WANT TO RULE THA WORLD! THEY WILL DESTROY HUMANITY!"

There are actual antisemites out there, and they're not going to use images from children's (SADLY, THEY WILL, I KNOW THEY WILL, SHUT UP) shows for propaganda, they're going to use stuff like this.

Anyway, keep it real! Remember that everyone's life is different, and that you matter!

[21st-century-witch-hunt]

The violent persecution of alleged "witches" has become a much deadlier, more widespread issue over the last 50 years than it ever was during the 300-year span of the European and Colonial Witch Trials -- and the issue is only getting worse.

CW: this post involves an ongoing human rights issue, with references to religious violence, child abuse, and murder

Violent attacks against alleged "witches" are becoming increasingly common in both rural and urban population centers throughout the world, and much of that violence occurs in places where religious fundamentalism (especially Evangelical Christianity) has collided with severe socio-economic instability. It is especially common for young children to be targeted in these attacks.

Between 1960 and the year 2000, it's estimated that more than 40,000 people in Tanzania alone were murdered due to the belief that they were "witches." Many others have been killed in similar incidents in more than a dozen other countries (on several different continents). 

Over the course of the last 100 years, it's estimated that there have been hundreds of thousands of deaths related to witchcraft allegations. Millions of people have also faced other forms of persecution, including imprisonment, torture, starvation, mob violence, branding, burning, flogging, public humiliation, and arson attacks. Many have been subjected to less violent forms of persecution, including abandonment, the confiscation of land and/or property, and the loss of parental or custodial rights; they are often denied access to education, employment, housing, and/or healthcare, too.

Millions of people are currently suffering as a result of these practices, and much of the abuse is now inflicted upon young children, who face allegations of being "child witches."

This issue is especially apparent in Nigeria, Tanzania, the Democratic Republic of the Congo, Ghana, Angola, South Africa, Papua New Guinea, Fiji, Micronesia, Vanuatu, and India, but it has also been documented in countries like Nepal, Indonesia, Afghanistan, Syria, Saudi Arabia. Colombia, Guatemala, Mexico, Bolivia, Haiti, Poland, and the UK.

And it's only getting worse -- this issue is continuing to spread throughout different parts of the world, often facilitated by the destabilizing effects of the COVID-19 pandemic and the escalation of economic, environmental, and political crises, along with the rising popularity of Christian fundamentalism (or, in some cases, Islamic fundamentalism). As a result, acts of violence targeting "witches" have become increasingly normalized and are occuring with greater frequency throughout much of the world. The formal persecution of so-called "witches" by various governments has also become more common.

These are just a few examples of the "witch-hunting" incidents and issues that have developed over the last few decades:

It's estimated that most of the 25,000-50,000 children who live on the streets of Kinshasa (in the Democratic Republic of the Congo) were originally abandoned because their families believed that they were "witches." Many of these children were still just infants when they were abandoned.

Thousands of churches/pastors in the DRC, Angola, and Nigeria are known to perform "deliverance" ceremonies (i.e. exorcisms) on alleged "witches" for financial gain; the same pastors are usually the ones who identify these "witches" in the first place. Human Rights Watch and the UN High Commissioner for Refugees both estimate that as many as 50,000 children, having been identified as "witches," may still be imprisoned in religious buildings throughout the DRC, where they await "deliverance" ceremonies in which they often face abuse, violence, torture, and sometimes even death under the pretense of spiritual cleansing. During the "deliverance" ceremony, some victims are forced to drink battery acid, or the battery acid may be poured into their eyes, and many of the children are permanently blinded or disfigured by chemical burns.

In Ghana, a series of settlements known as "witch camps" have been established to provide shelter/safety to women who have been branded as "witches." Many of these women are widows with small children, and the children are often sheltered in the camps alongside their mothers. Local schools generally refuse to provide these children with an education. It is estimated that the "witch camps" in Ghana currently house between 1,000 and 2,500 women in total, along with hundreds of children, and some women have been residing in the camps for more than 40 years.

In India, records indicate that more than 2,500 people who were accused of practicing witchcraft were then captured, tortured, and killed between the years 2000 and 2016.

From 1996 to 2001, more than 600 so-called "witches" were killed in the Limpopo Province of South Africa.

When a wave of "witch-hunts" swept through East Java (Indonesia) in 1998, more than 200 people were killed over the course of just a few months.

From 2010 to 2011, more than 20 elderly women were murdered in Zimbabwe after facing allegations of witchcraft.

In 2008, the Gambian government imprisoned 1,000 alleged "witches" in a detention center, where they were tortured and forced to consume a dangerous hallucinogenic concoction.

In 2007, more than 200 suspected "witches" were killed within a single province in Papua New Guinea.

Reports indicate that thousands of women in the Indian state of Jharkand are formally accused of practicing witchcraft each month, and that hundreds of these women are beaten, tortured, and/or killed. In some of the most violent cases, the victims have had their eyes gouged out, and some have been set on fire. Others are forced to endure forms of public humiliation.

In May of 2008, 15 alleged "witches" in a region of Kenya were set on fire and executed by an angry mob.

In recent years, at least five different individuals have been officially executed by the government of Saudi Arabia on charges of practicing "sorcery." Other purported "sorcerers" have been tried and convicted in Saudi Arabia, though some have received public floggings (and other forms of torture) instead of the death penalty, and some are currently in prison awaiting trial. Saudi Arabia also has the dubious distinction of having its own official, state-sponsored "Witch-hunting Task Force."

Between the years 2000 and 2010, at least six children in the UK were also killed due to "child witch" allegations, and several other cases of non-lethal abuse have been documented there.

This form of violence has been on the rise for several decades now, and it occurs in many different cultural contexts. It goes without saying that there is no simple, one-size-fits-all explanation for all of these incidents, nor is there a simple explanation for the beliefs that have led to such practices. Religious rhetoric is obviously a driving factor, but there are other circumstances that may also contribute, including socio-economic disparities, social frustrations, a lack of resources, a compulsion to assign blame, the fear of "Otherness," etc. -- essentially the same factors that have always contributed to the witch-hunt phenomenon, and to scapegoating at large.

But there are some interesting trends that appear in the cases from West Africa, Central Africa, and Melanesia, where violent attacks against "witches" are especially prevalent: it's clear that these acts of violence are often intertwined with a particularly dangerous blend of Evangelical Christianity and socio-economic instability.

In Nigeria, for example, popular Pentecostal preachers like Helen Ukpabio have explicitly promoted the belief in "child witches," and they have encouraged the parents of the accused "witches" to subject their children to the cruel, abusive, and often violent exorcism rituals that are offered by local preachers...for an enormous fee, of course.

This article explains how religious leaders in Nigeria will often perpetuate and then exploit the belief in "child witches:"

The devil's children are "identified" by powerful religious leaders at extremist churches where Christianity and traditional beliefs have combined to produce a deep-rooted belief in, and fear of, witchcraft. The priests spread the message that child-witches bring destruction, disease and death to their families. And they say that, once possessed, children can cast spells and contaminate others.

The religious leaders offer help to the families whose children are named as witches, but at a price. The churches run exorcism, or "deliverance" evenings where the pastors attempt to drive out the evil spirits. Only they have the power to cleanse the child of evil spirits, they say. The exorcism costs the families up to a year's income.

During the "deliverance" ceremonies, the children are shaken violently, dragged around the room and have potions poured into their eyes. If the ritual fails, the parents know their children will have to be sent away, or killed. Many are held in churches, often on chains, and deprived of food until they "confess" to being a witch.

The ceremonies are highly lucrative for the spiritual leaders, many of whom enjoy a lifestyle of large homes, expensive cars and designer clothes. Some Nigerians blame the increase on one of the country's wealthiest and most influential evangelical preachers. Helen Ukpabio, a self-styled prophetess of the 150-branch Liberty Gospel Church, made a film, widely distributed, called End of the Wicked. It tells, in graphic detail, how children become possessed and shows them being inducted into covens, eating human flesh and bringing chaos and death to their families and communities.

Mrs. Ukpabio also wrote a popular book which tells parents how to identify a witch. For children under two years old, she says, the key signs of a servant of Satan are crying and screaming in the night, high fever and worsening health - symptoms that can be found among many children in an impoverished region with poor health care.

It's important to note that these "exorcism" and "witch-hunting" rituals have no real precedent among the native cultures of Nigeria -- they are a product of the modern rise of religious fundamentalism, the spread of Evangelical Christianity, widespread inequality and strife, and a general commitment to spiritualism. When those elements are combined, they form the perfect recipe for violence.

As this article explains: 

Although traditional beliefs in witch doctors are not so deeply buried in people's memories, and although there had been indigenous Christians in Nigeria since the 19th century, it is American and Scottish Pentecostal and evangelical missionaries of the past 50 years who have shaped these fanatical beliefs.

There is a degree of volatility that often arises when Evangelical beliefs about spiritual warfare, Satan, strife, and witchcraft are preached to communities that are already facing severe socio-economic challenges, especially in places where the scars of colonialism are still fresh.

The uncertainty and strife that often exists within these communities is framed as a direct consequence of "Satanic" influences that have infiltrated the community itself, manifesting in the form of an actual person...and the most vulnerable people (i.e. children, widows, elderly women, and disabled people) are usually singled out as those manifestations of evil. They are viewed as Satanic emissaries who are directly responsible for causing tragedy and hardship within the community, and the accused "witches" must then be punished and purged. They are a perfect target for all of the community's frustrations.

Similar circumstances can also be found in many parts of Melanesia -- especially in Papua New Guinea, where extreme Pentecostal rhetoric has likewise interacted with existing conditions to encourage the (often violent) persecution of alleged "witches."

This excerpt from The Introduction to Pentecostal Witchcraft and Spiritual Politics in Africa and Melanesia describes the religious rhetoric that has developed in Papua New Guinea:

In 1992, a well-orchestrated upsurge of third wave evangelism and apocalyptic thinking took off in the Mountain Ok area, which had a considerable influence on people’s lives and thinking. Jorgensen (2005) specifically addresses a local movement called "Operation Joshua" and the centrality of "spiritual warfare" within it. The focus of this movement was to attack directly invisible evil forces such as witchcraft and sorcery through "spiritual mapping," "healing," and "crusades." Through this confrontational, aggressive, and effective form of evangelism numerous charismatic movements and campaigns found their way into PNG, Fiji, the Solomon Islands, and Vanuatu.

During an intensive period in 2014, the entire Christian congregation of the small island of Ahamb in Vanuatu came out of their church building and besieged every corner of their island in order to drive out demons and evil spirits. It culminated in a witch hunt, where people of the congregation ganged up on accused witches, and in the end killed them by hanging them in the community hall.

The author also notes the influence of similar Pentecostal rhetoric in the "witch-hunts" that have taken place in certain parts of Africa:

... the demonization of children also highlights the crucial role played in the persecution of "witches" by the Christian Pentecostal sects that have proliferated in urban and rural Africa during the last twenty years ... the connection between Pentecostalism and the persecution of witches is well documented, possibly providing a clue to the rapid expansion of witch-hunting in so many different parts of the planet. ...

Through books and open-air sermons in market centers and other public spaces, evangelists increased people’s anxiety about their social environment, preached a connection between Satan, illness and death and incited a spiritual warfare of sorts.

I know this is a very lengthy post, so I'll try to wrap it up. I just wanted to share some of this information, along with the following list of advocacy and aid groups,  because very few people seem to be aware of the fact that this issue even exists.

Advocacy & Humanitarian Aid Groups:

Land of Hope

Safe Child Africa

South African Pagan Rights Alliance

Relief for Witch-Hunt Victims (Hexereianklagen)

Stop Sorcery Violence

Bethany Children's Trust: SCWA

Stop Child Witch Accusations

Sources & More Info:

The New York Times: The Persecution of Witches, 21st Century Style

BBC: Branded and Beaten: the children accused of witchcraft and murder

Reuters: Killing of Women, Child "Witches" is on the Rise, U.N. Told

CNN: Abuse of Child "Witches" on the Rise, Aid Group Says

New York Times: Women in Gambia Describe Torture After Ex-President Called them Witches

The United Nations High Commissioner for Refugees: Witchcraft Allegations, Refugee Protection, and Human Rights (PDF)

Reuters: Children Accused of Witchcraft Find Solace in East Congo Shelter

Sydney Morning Herald: East Java Villagers Hunt Witches to Put an End to Nightmares and Sickness

Scientific American: Witch Hunts Today

Journal of Early Child Development and Care: Branding and the Abuse of African Children in the UK

[eclaire-went-bam]

if i see one more of my friends finish off having a likewarm ahh opinion with "but maybe i'm just delusional idk" i'm going to blow my brains out

[giantkillerjack]

Happy to report I'm no longer responding to the religious people on my posts! Apologies to anyone who may have taken the psychic damage of seeing that unexpectedly!

It had been a while since I had purposely kicked a metaphorical wasp nest so I guess I was overdue. I am simply a sexy fool. 🙄 I do it a lot less nowadays tho, which is good!

I did genuinely set out at first to get information about how Catholics reconcile certain paradoxes within their faith, and then I was like oh right oh no I just remembered why I stopped doing this

On the upside I DID actually learn a lot; even if part of what I learned was don't tag Catholic tumblr in your posts about Catholicism, Jack. (Listen. I'm a work in progress! 😅)

And now I am very dedicated to putting a priest in my graphic novel who fucks a demon. Which I was going to draw anyway, so I might as well make it work with the story. For art. And penises.

Anyway, I hear the song "Godsend" by Trebuchet and I go a little bit insane in a good way. It's like if Supernatural was good and also a song. I'd really like to capture that energy in my work. There's also this song called "the queer gospel" that I love very much, which is about the inherent holiness of queerness and queer community regardless of if there's a god. (I actually made a burlesque routine for that song once, and more than one person said it made them cry happy tears! Which is a hell of a point of pride for me! AND a hell of a point of Pride!)

*okay if someone sends me an anonymous message that makes me laugh out loud and not feel rancid, then I will answer it if it brings me joy and I have a funny response. I will tag it accordingly and then block that person as soon as they stop being funny. But I'm good on debate and philosophy now. I got my answer. I had forgotten what those answers looked like. But I am grateful for (and moderately horrified by) the reminder. Please see the tags for an explanation of my new favorite phrase involving a man, heliocentrism, and one very hot piece of wood~

[chestersbraincell]

So. 2025.

Honestly thought, hoped, I wouldn’t be around to see this, but alas, here I am still.

Not to be negative during a time of celebration, it’s just kind of melancholic and frustrating to realise I’ve been crossing my fingers to die in my sleep for a whole half a year now.

Why do you choose to keep me around. Why do you insist I continue living on this earth. Why. Haven’t you toyed with torturing me endlessly enough? Will you ever be satiated enough to throw a broken toy away?

Hhhhhh, anyways, Happy New Years. Hope it’s better or whatever for my moots, again, sorry that I don’t have anything positive to say

[aki-bara]

I don't think I can help at all, but to all queer Georgians, you are valid! Do you best to live proud and survive. I'm sorry this is happening to you, it's not right and you don't deserve it.

hi if ur unaware georgia 🇬🇪 (where i live) has officially banned gay marriage, gay ‘propaganda’, gender reassignment surgery and anything ’promoting’ it. a trans model, kesaria abramidze, has been murdered as a direct consequence of this legislation. if you have a queer georgian in your life pls let them know they are loved and let this solidify why we Need pride and hope cause jesus fuck man

[minimightymina]

Heeyyyyy

So found out my great grandmother neglected one of her children to death on purpose

Anyone know how to deal with that?