#he deserved so much better than a religious show with a ~message~

[perotovar]

#don't think about how this is probably what joel looked like when sarah was born

[jytan2018]

I read the comic in one sitting less than an hour after finishing the movie, and wow I have many Thoughts™.

- It's very obvious the two versions were meant to cater to different audiences AND tell different messages. I don't get why people are going "But the comic was better! It had more nuance!" just because Nimona was easier to root for in the movie.

- The comic was written back when ND Stevenson was still trying to process a lot of stuff, so all the characters are morally grey/straight up evil and the climactic battle is between a Ballister who regrets turning against Nimona, even if it was to save others vs. a Nimona who's too hurt to care if her lashing out was going to hurt innocent people.

- By the time Nimona got a movie adaptation, ND was a lot more secure in his sexuality, so the climactic battle was Nimona vs. the Director, the symbol of religious oppression and bigotry. It's not just about your friends turning on you because you're "too much" for them anymore, it's also about a society that would rather bring itself to the brink of ruin than coexist with you.

- (I totally get why people were upset about Ballister's surname change, though. Like come on, the media dubbing him Blackheart just to be mean was RIGHT THERE).

- Nimona's metaphor for not shifting is such a neurodivergent thing. Even in the comic, Nimona's parents insisting she's a monster who replaced their daughter is reminiscent of the changeling myth, which is what many parents thought their neurodivergent kids were—changelings who replaced their "real" children.

- Ambrosius being trained to cut off HIS BOYFRIEND'S WHOLE FUCKING ARM instead of merely disarming him is a very cop thing to do. As much as cops claim they're trained to de-escalate situations, their training still teaches them to treat everyone as a potential threat, and that level of constant vigilance can turn anyone into a trigger-happy/arm-choppy bastard. Even the Director, who can use a sword but probably hasn't actually fought someone in ages, STILL can't see Ballister reaching for the squire's phone without assuming he has a weapon.

- And on that note, the Queen getting killed simply because she was trying to reform the Institution and allow commoners to become knights? That's the best "no such thing as a good cop" metaphor I've seen. Because even if there ARE good cops and they ARE in leadership positions, the system will crush them before they make any meaningful change. It's not a good institution that turned rotten, it's an institution that only exists to spread its rot and refuses to be good.

- That's why Ballister's characterisation is so different in the movie vs. the comic. Comic Ballister had 15 years to come to terms with his trauma and the Institution's evildoing, while Movie Ballister is still freshly traumatised and hasn't found a way to define himself beyond the role he was assigned by the Institution.

- Not to mention Comic Ambrosius was not very noble to begin with and genuinely believed Ballister was better suited to villainy than heroism, while Movie Ambrosius never wanted the glory that came with his lineage in the first place and only antagonised Ballister because of indoctrination he needed to unlearn (which he did, all by himself, after witnessing the lengths the Director will go to just to kill Nimona).

- It really shows how important it is to surround yourself with loved ones who are open to change. Comic Ambrosius can love Ballister all he wants, but he'll still blast his arm off because he thinks Ballister deserved it anyway. Movie Ambrosius will stop to question what "the right thing" even means, even if he didn't love Ballister enough to defend him unconditionally.

I have so many more thoughts bubbling beneath the surface, but I'll probably address them some other day. In conclusion:

[ID: A pink-haired Nimona grinning evilly while holding up a knife.]

Watch Nimona. This is not a request.

Edit: Added more thoughts!

[caramel-ribbons]

I love how the Titan isn’t a God; he’s a father who has used his power to try and communicate with the girl who has shown nothing but love and compassion towards his son. She wears the Bad girl coven shirt. There’s a Hooty piece where he’s missing an eye. Her last words to her son are “I loaf you” because she knows he likes bread puns. The Titan has more in common with witches and humans than he does with the immortalized version Belos created.

I love how Belos intentionally turned the Titan into this Godlike figure because he’s a colonizer. White colonizers thrusted their religious beliefs onto the people they deemed lesser. They actively took over entire continents and actively stole from and killed people because of their perceived superiority. Belos thinks he’s better than the witches, and so he stole the magic from the Titan, appointed himself its ruler, and attempted genocide against the witches of the Boiling Isles.

And I love how Luz saves the day, not because she was a chosen one with some innate power, but because she’d proven to the Titan that she deserved power.

“Almost as if the world wanted to hide them from me.”

“Almost like the Titan himself didn’t want me to have that knowledge.”

Because he didn’t. Because the Titan knew Belos didn’t have good intentions. But she showed the glyphs to Luz. He chose to show his power to her because he knew she would use it for good, and she did. Unlike Belos, Luz appreciated the culture of the Demon Realm and she learned to love the people of the Boiling Isles, including King, in a matter of months. Belos was there for centuries and yet he never bothered to treat the Boiling Isles with any respect. Why should he earn the Titan’s power when he can’t even respect her or any of the beings she shelters?

I’ve seen a few people (mainly on Twitter), reducing all of this to a “deus ex machina” or, “another cult metaphor”, but it’s so much more than that. It’s about respect. Respect of land and the people who occupy it. It’s about respecting people enough to understand them and their culture without forcing your own beliefs onto them. More than simply being an obvious criticism of the witch trials and the Catholics responsible for them, it’s also a criticism of people who use religion as an excuse to hurt people. Belos used the Titan as a substitute for his own God and then weaponized her against her own people, while Luz treated her offspring with nothing but love and respect.

Luz won because she loved and looked after the Titan’s son and thus, loved her. Belos lost because he didn’t even bother to learn anything about King, his Dad, or the people he protected.

Edit: A really nice commenter reminded me it was the Puritains and not the Catholics who were responsible for the witch trials. Thank you for that. Message still stands but just keep that in mind.

[vamptarot]

Why God Loves You | PAC

pile one pile two pile three

how to choose a pile . . . choose whichever you feel drawn to or ask your guides to guide your eyes to the one that is meant for you! ���𐭩

— ⭑.ᐟ before we start I would like to say that this pick a card was made for those who were made to believe that God doesn’t love them, or that their existence is a sin. so if anyone wishes to complain about ‘oh but what if I have different beliefs’ then please simply consider that this pick a card is not for you. I am making it for those who were unjustly hurt. not proof read.

pile one : - coffee stain !

𐙚 : judgment reversed, ace of wands reversed, hermit reversed, two of swords, the devil

bottom of the deck: ace of cups

♡ ⢷why He loves you

You are genuinely not a judgemental person, at all. Even if someone is judged by the masses you are someone that does the ‘investigation’ of the situation yourself and then decide if the person actually deserves to be hated or not.

Even when it comes to unconventional things that other people would judge for, you simply do not. You always do your best to understand where the other person is coming from, and most importantly what are they going through. Especially emotionally, you try to see it from their perspective and not from someone that’s an outsider perspective in that situation, whatever it might be. That only comes second, third and so on. You are just someone very nurturing and smart, a person who walks their own way of clarity rather than blindly following the masses.

You are someone that is hard to influence, but rather than this making you unfriendly, it has the opposite effect on you. This quality of yours makes you very friendly and makes people have trust in you.

You are mature and can meet good people because you don’t let judgement fall in the way of you making good connections. Rather, you aim to understand everyone as much as possible.

You are also someone that is very responsible. When you make mistakes rather than running away from them and denying what had happened in the past you stand on your feet and strive to make it right. To create a better future.

This is something that is very honourable about you, something that is admirable.

♡ ⢷personal message

You don’t have to be religious in order to follow the words of God or what’s in your heart. Neither do you have to be religious in order to be considered a good person.

You are just you, and that’s enough.

You are good as you are, with your flaws, with your strengths and with your history. Don’t feel like you have to put on a show in order to be accepted. By this, I just mean that your existence is not a sin. What happened to you in the past is not a sin either, and don’t shame yourself for your normal human desires. Especially if you know it’s not your fault.

‘Picture perfect’ is picture perfect exactly because it’s not reality. Consider it an illusion if you wish.

— ✮⋆˙ someone in this pile is biologically a guy! , hey ya! - outkast , used to be a player , plush animals , bells , bunnies , wooden house , unfortunate childhood , growing up in poverty and actually managing to have a better life , nose bleeds , pink glittery food ? , hate for ants

my beautiful pile one please know that your intrusive thoughts are not you and I see all your efforts to be the best possible version of yourself, to treat yourself and humans with love and respect. you are pretty cool, please don’t beat yourself up. don’t blame yourself for the way other people have hurt you. I am also so sorry if your pile sounds a bit messy, I wrote it at 2AM. thank you for reading.

if you liked my reading please consider checking out my paid readings! there is barely any topic I will say no to and with every penny you are helping me!

pile two : - a letter !

𐙚 : the lovers reversed, five of cups reversed, ten of swords reversed, ace of wands, the hermit, two of cups

bottom of the deck: the star & the empress reversed

♡ ⢷why He loves you

In the past you have made some pretty bad choices. I am not judging, because who didn’t? These could be things that you aren’t necessarily proud of and that you know hurt people. At that time, you didn’t have people’s best interest at heart. You didn’t even care much for it even.

The thing is, this changed. You changed it, without anyone having to tell you to.

You changed it because you didn’t enjoy the person you have become. All by yourself. God, and your guides for that matter, are very very proud of you for that. It could feel a bit unreal to hear that, but regardless, you are reading this pick a card for a reason.

Regardless, you made such a huge progress and became someone that you can be proud of. You are doing so well, there is nothing left but to praise you for how far you have become.

There was genuinely such a huge tower moment in your life which helped you become the person that you are today, one that helped you evolve and have people’s best interest in your heart. Not from a people pleasing stand point either, rather, you look at everyone as human and as crazy as it might sound this isn’t a quality many people have.

Rather than seeing people as strangers, obstacles or just an option to pass time with you have become much more empathetic and have way more emotional depth than what you used to have.

This has helped you and other people heal as well, it’s truly adorable. You have every right to be proud of yourself!

♡ ⢷personal message

The past is the past and the present is the present.

People change and this includes you. Don’t give yourself a hard time over things that no longer matter, or no longer can he helped.

Today, you are a just, wonderful and kind person. Someone that gives their all in everything they do, someone who does things with all their might. A person that is doing their best, every single day, even at times where they don’t want to. - It’s not the bare minimum, this is a very wholesome and just thing of you to do. Don’t under-appreciate your own efforts in life. You are doing so much, while getting so little and you are so strong for continuing to stand even though you feel like giving up at times.

You are doing so well, and I hope you will be able to see that.

— ✮⋆˙ zuko from atla , mha , break stuff - limp bizkits , smiley - yena ft bibi , ear ringing , silver jewellery , crying at night ? , porcelain dolls , grandma , beauty and the beast rose , swarovski princess dolls , blood , red lip tint , being distracted , recently finding out something important about yourself

bad people don’t worry about being bad. I know impostor syndrome can be hard, but you are doing so well! the past doesn’t define you but your efforts of self improvement do! thank you for reading. 🫶🏻

if you liked my reading please consider checking out my paid readings! there is barely any topic I will say no to and with every penny you are helping me!

pile three : - the sea !

𐙚 : knight of wands reversed, the devil, three of swords reversed, nine of pentacles reversed, seven of swords reversed, ace of swords, ten of swords

bottom of the deck: queen of pentacles reversed

♡ ⢷why He loves you

Alright my beautiful pile three, I see your struggles. You have happened to be born into and grow up in an environment that doesn’t serve you any right. One that doesn’t align with your soul and keeps making you go through hardships.

Your family members are not necessarily people who always have your best interest at heart, and even if they do they don’t always succeed in showing you that.

They are much different from you, and even though you don’t necessarily deem yourself as perfect you know they are at times toxic even if they try to include you in things, try to make you feel good in your skin and so on. You, essentially are the black sheep of your family. Not because you try to stand out, not because you cause trouble on purpose but because you try to not make the mistakes that they do.

Being born into a family which you can love is a privilege, and I do think you got to understand that from a very young age even if not everyone in this pile hates their family you don’t always like them despite loving them. - Ironic, that could be something that people who chose this pile heard growing up. -

So, at many times you have felt lonely.

Despite this, you are doing your best. Some of you were at times severely mistreated, tricked into things or perhaps share wounds you genuinely never want to open up about.

Regardless of this, you don’t seek revenge. You don’t aim to hurt people. If you dislike someone you keep your distance, and focus on your own life.

On having good goals, good morals, being kind to strangers, being kind to family and being a good person overall.

Sure, sometimes you do get annoyed, quite a lot at times even, but you do your best to not react out of harsh and negative emotions, to not lash out on people. You know how it feels and don’t wish to inflict such negative kinds of emotions on people. So everyday, you do your best to don’t.

♡ ⢷personal message

Your surroundings don’t define you as a person, being the one to stand out doesn’t mean there is anything wrong with you.

Sometimes you are just meant to stand out, to create differences, to be the foundation for a better future.

For yourself and those who are important to you.

If you can’t be, that’s fine. The world doesn’t rely on you, don’t overwhelm yourself if you believe that you deserve better. The world is give and take, you cannot just give and give and give without receiving anything back.

Being a giver is alright, and having a forgiving heart is beautiful, but you cannot sacrifice your well being just to please people.

— ✮⋆˙ ‘I just wanna be one of your girls tonight one of your girls tonight’ , apple watch , an actual apple , lana del rey , ‘back to black’ , late night talks , ‘bye guys! hi ladies!’ , soobin from txt , dipper pines , weird food combos - peanut butter with pickles … ? whatever makes you feel happy my pile 3 - , back scratching , long nails , poverty , gangs (?)

I can definitely resonate with you my beautiful pile three, please just know that beautiful things await you. Like genuinely, you will have so many good things in life which you didn’t even previously think about or consider before. I hope you will be able to find so much happiness my little lamb. thank you for reading.

if you liked my reading please consider checking out my paid readings! there is barely any topic I will say no to and with every penny you are helping me!

[cityofmeliora]

notes on Primo's characterization 💖

let's talk about Primo! i think he's a really, really interesting character!

i've said before that i think Primo is the only one of the brothers who takes the whole ~satanic death cult trying to bring the end of the world~ thing seriously.

Primo was indeed very serious about the cult. maybe too serious? even some other members of the cult dislike that about him.

NAMELESS GHOUL: The first Papa Emeritus was someone very rigid, very strict, and very solemn. A real son of a bitch! (laughs) To be honest, we don’t miss him at all! MyRock #44 (2017) translated from French by @ a-wandering-ghoulette)

the best source of Primo characterization is a 2010 interview with Sweden Rock Magazine where Primo and the Nameless Ghouls kidnapped the interviewer. though i quote *a lot* of it here, i strongly recommend reading the full interview because it is truly fascinating. notably, Primo himself speaks in this interview rather than a Nameless Ghoul.

Primo is a misanthrope who believes humans are "vermin" that have doomed themselves due to their "intellectual decline". in his eyes, they are unworthy of life and will eventually be destroyed.

“Human beings are vermin, thus the end of humanity is ultimately a good thing. We play but a vanishingly microscopic role in this cosmos of nothingness.”

The devil-worshipping organization that the Ghost leader speaks of is claimed to operate on a worldwide level and among many different areas: from politics and business to religious movements, in the entertainment industry and on the street. It does not have a name, but its existence “can most easily be explained as a living and ongoing result of humanity’s intellectual decline and eventual decay.”

Primo affirms Ghost's mission statement as originally presented in the band's old Myspace page: to spread the devil's influence and convince other people that humanity deserves its inevitable end.

According to the statement on the band’s page, Ghost’s main mission is to trick mankind into believing that the end of the world is ultimately a good thing. “Our only task is to accompany the world’s downfall.”

A question comes to mind: wouldn’t the band, which with its poppy hard rock could by all means appeal to a much wider audience than ordinary black metal acts, gain more attention by engaging in more commercial modes of expression? “We have other entertainment groups within our organization who are doing just that. Our task is to emphasize the devil’s message in the part of society that has, to varying degrees, already accepted it. It’s directed at the social grouping that goes to the type of concerts that we perform. Our goal is to be able to carry out our black mass, our ritual, for them. Other members of the cult work with far more subtle modes of expressions, better suited for consumers who are not as receptive to the truth.”

though he openly calls the organization a cult, his religious belief is sincere.

to Primo, the band's anonymity and use of costumes are a way of showing reverence and humility in their task. if Satan is the Father, and Antichrist is the Son, the band is the (unholy) Ghost: the force which connects humanity to the power of the Father and the Son. for the audience to think of Primo or the Nameless Ghouls as individual people would distract from their message. when he takes on the role of Papa, he becomes one with their cause.

You refer to yourselves as a group of nameless spirits - should this be taken literally? Is the band actually something other than human? “To make it easier for mortals to deal with the fact that we, as individuals, have no significance in this experience, we have chosen to act as ghosts - hollow and diffuse.”

Why did you, as a leader, choose an outfit so similar to the one worn by the Catholic Pope? “For the Pope it is a way of showing reverence and seriousness, and at the same time humility before his task. He uses it to step into the body that is the essence and the fog, something we advocate too. It is our way of becoming one with the fog.” Things become clearer when the leader speaks of the meaning behind the name of the band: “Akin to the tripartite view so stubbornly proclaimed by the Christian faith, we too believe there is magic in the concept of three and we are part of it: there is a god, Satan, a son, Antichrist, and a ghost in the middle that is the inexplicable - the fog.”

Primo has a theistic view of Satan, believing he is real deity who speaks through / inspires the band's music. in this way, the Ghoul Writer could be considered a sort of prophet to him.

That’s right. Ghost have their music written for them. In one online interview, a so-called “ghoul writer” is mentioned who supposedly composes melodies and lyrics with the help of ungraspable powers from beyond – devilish whispers instruct him which words should accompany which chords, and so forth. “There is indeed a human individual who composes patterns of tones and words which operate ever so beautifully in unison. However, I am of the belief that there is a higher being who speaks through this individual,” asserts the Pope.

like a proper cultist, Primo cannot imagine having a life / identity outside of the cult. he remembers that there was once a time when he was not a member of the cult, but he cannot remember what it was like to be that person. his devotion to the cult has been a core part of who he is for a very long time.

How he got involved in this movement and dedicated his life to Satan, he has a hard time answering. After a long silence, the singer says: “I find it very difficult to remember the life I had before I found the darkness. It is therefore very difficult to answer your question. My memory doesn’t go that far.” Surely the Pope must remember something?           “I cannot remember a time when I did not find myself part of the dark energy. That does not mean that I remember nothing from my past life, only that I cannot remember how I felt then. This is because it was a time when I did not know very much.” Was it by coming into contact with other members of the organization that you found this darkness? “As I said, I do not remember when this happened. But I think…” He chooses his words carefully. “… I believe that, like many others, I was woven into this dark through subtle, human components found within it. Once again, my intellect was not as developed as it is now, so I have great difficulty in explaining what happened - when and where, and to what extent.”

while he cannot say exactly what happened to him or when, Primo seems to have had genuine spiritual experiences. he was always connected to the dark energy, and he feels that he became awakened and that his intellect has developed since he truly found his faith.

despite being a misanthrope, Primo admits he was brought into the darkness by some sort of human connection. he might actually have the capacity to care about some people.

in a Kerrang feature where Primo gets quizzed on "demonology, serial killers and stuff like that", he says the cult knew witches who were burned at the stake, but he doesn't like to talk about it. it stood out to me that he says he doesn't want to talk about it, because he speaks so openly and matter-of-factly about other dark / upsetting topics. at the very least, it appears he doesn't like it when bad things happen to other members of the cult.

WHAT DOES THE PHRASE MALLEUS MALEFICARUM TRANSLATE AS IN ENGLISH? A) HAMMER OF THE WITCHES B) HAMMER OF THE DEMONS C) HAMMER OF THE GODS PAPA: “That would be the witch-hammer. We knew some Witches, but unfortunately a lot of them were taken away.” KERRANG!: “As in burned at the stake?” PAPA: “Correct. But I don’t like to talk about that. (Answer: A) ✔

he seems to be quite pleased about other people dying, though. and he is certain they all go to Hell.

6. NAME ANY TWO OF THE THREE ORIGINAL MEMBERS OF MAYHEM. PAPA: “Though one was not an original member two of the band are actually burning in Hell, and they’re good guests, certainly. But yes, I will say Euronymous and Necrobutcher.” (Answer: Euronymous, Necrobutcherr, Manheim) ✔ 7. WHAT WAS THE NAME OF THE SHIP THAT WAS DISCOVERED FLOATING ABANDONED AND UNMANNED IN THE ATLANTIC OCEAN IN DECEMBER 1872? PAPA: “It was that ship with such a heavenly name, the lady Mary Celeste.” KERRANG!: “And can you finally tell us where all the people went?” PAPA: I’ll check the records. Obviously they’re all in Hell now, but the way they got there is a little cloudy. But then our Lord too works in mysterious ways…“ (Answer: Mary Celeste) ✔

some of Primo's other responses in this article reveal he has a dark sense of humor and perhaps cruel inclinations. when talking about possessions done by the cult, he says "sometimes you just want to do it for the hell of it" and "you want to make a bit of sport out of it", referring to a possession that (allegedly) influenced a serial killer. he refers to the victims of these possessions as "poor [name]", but his remarks on their misfortune don't indicate any actual remorse or sympathy. it might even be intentionally ironic.

5. WHICH PAINTER ALLEGEDLY UNDERWENT AN EXORCISM IN 1947? PAPA: “Poor Salvador Dali. You know we had his missus possessed as well, all in the name of Satan…” KERRANG!: Is possession something that’s done for serious reasons or just to pass the time? “Well sometimes you just want to do it for the hell of it…”  (Answer: Salvador Dali) ✔

13. WHAT AMERICAN SERIAL KILLER CLAIMS HE WAS COMPELLED TO COMMIT HIS MURDERS BY A DEMON THAT POSSESSED HIS NEIGHBOUR’S DOG? PAPA: 'That was that poor boy, the Son Of Sam. That sure was a successful possession, although it did involve far too much crotch-sniffing and turd-eating.“ KERRANG: "Is it easier to possess a dog than to possess a person?” PAPA: “Not necessarily, but you want to make a bit of sport out of it.” (Answer: David Berkowitz/Son Of Sam) ✔

also, many of the events Primo speaks about would've happened before he was born or when he was very young, so it seems he's studied the cult's history very well, and he keeps tabs on their current activities. he does his research!

and as a fun fact: Primo is pretty good at math :)

14. IF YOU’RE TRICK OR TREATING AND THREE HOUSES GIVE YOU SEVEN SWEETS, TWO GIVE YOU FOUR, AND ONE GIVES YOU NINE, AND YOUR PARENTS THEN DOUBLE WHAT YOU HAVE, HOW MANY SWEETS DO YOU END UP WITH? PAPA: “76.” KERRANG!: “That was alarmingly fast, sir. Are good mathematical skills important when you’re burning in the fiery pits of Hell?” PAPA: “We all have our different strengths, but of course the number we are most used to is 666…” (Answer: 76) ✔

there's not a lot of information about Primo, and what exists is hard to find, but i live to bring knowledge to the people 🫡. these are all the sources i have on hand that talk about Primo. if anyone else has other articles / videos talking about Primo, i'd really appreciate it if you shared them!

[sarafinamk]

Fallen Angel (Smiling Critters Space Riders AU Reader Insert) Part 3

Summary: Without the red smoke to help you through rehab, you begin to experience thoughts and feelings that you never had before. It gets worse before it gets better, but don't worry. It DOES slowly get better.

Check out the other parts here. Also, check out Part 2 to my Incorrect Quotes if you haven't already. The Smiling Critters Space Riders AU belongs to @onyxonline. Enjoy!

TW: Mentions of Blood, Mentions of Injury, Imprisonment, Trauma, Death mentions, Mentions of murder, Religious Trauma, Religious Imagery and Symbolism, Religious Cults, Drug Withdrawal, Drug Addiction, Mentions of Self harm, Mention of Suicide Attempt, Mental Health Issues, Slight cursing, LOTS of negative thoughts, Implied Abuse, Conditioning

----------

You weren’t sure how long you’ve been imprisoned at the heretics’ main space station for. Based on the lines scribbled in your journal, and what those healers and heretics told you, the closest timeline you could estimate was a month and a half…

Could be more…

In your defense, being in and out of consciousness because of not only healing from your wounds but dealing with your hellish headspace gave you no chance of keeping track. You weren’t sure if you TRULY wanted to know how long it’s been though…

Some of your wounds, at least, have healed. If you weren’t wearing those power mufflers, all your wounds would have disappeared a long time ago. But, no.

Those heretics just HAD to insist you heal the hard way. It is bad enough that those healers and their knights were watching your every move on the cameras. There was no nook or cranny in your accommodation that wasn’t under constant surveillance. They didn’t even try to be discreet about them. What’s worse is that now you had your whole body, head, and face exposed, especially to the people hellbent on killing you. They didn’t even deserve to have a face to associate with the Archangel. It was for your own good, they said. All that did was leave you with voices in your head screaming at you to get out, run, and hide from those prying eyes.

So what if there were a few instances where you tried to scratch yourself until you were satisfied with the red on you? You just needed a way to stop yourself from feeling these weird feelings. It’s leaving you weak. What would the Prototype say if he saw you showing such weakness when you were raised better than this? The scratching never went as far as it did the first time, though and it would never be like that ever again. Not on the heretics’ watch. They would always intervene before the first sign of red.

You spent a lot of time thinking about the perfect escape plan. You would get those power mufflers off, destroy those cameras the first chance you get, create a void, (maybe kill a few heretics along the way to send a message), and make an easy escape back to the prototype. It’s just… you could never muster any energy to go through with your ideas. You hated that you grew so lazy and weak when no prison was able to keep you contained in the past.

What happened to you?

Where was your energy to fight back, to make those heretics pay for what they’ve done to you…?

But…

Why save you?

Probably to interrogate you, torture you for ALL the intel concerning your God, and once they get everything, kill you. They can sure as hell try, but you’d rather die than betray your God and family like this!

You groan, cradling your pounding head with one hand. You slide down against the wall. Even though you've been clean for some time now, but you're still trying to get used to this red smoke free headspace of yours. Now you're just left sitting with thoughts and feelings you never had to sit with before, and you hated how much it consumes you. You wished you had the red smoke to help you through this, to make you forget these feelings, to go back to normal. But the Prototype never came back for you… no rescue parties were made for you as far as you know.

A few healers and knights argued that if he really wanted you back, he would’ve come get you by now, but he didn’t, and none of your “friends or family” did either, so you might as well get used to being here. You reminded them every single time that you don’t have “friends” nor are you selfish enough to need any. The Prototype was all anybody needed. You had that argument about 26 times before you stopped. There was no point in continuing this fight if they just refused to see any sense.

You hated to admit it, but...

Maybe they're right.

Not once, in the entire time since you’ve been separated from the Prototype was he there when you needed him the most. Your chest and the back of your eyes burn. Your vision goes blurry. You clench your blanket draped around your shoulders and take a few deep breaths until the burning sensation is smothered, and your vision clears up. You are NOT going to let weakness consume you.

Not now.

Not ever.

Not as long as you’re at the mercy of the heretics.

----------

Here you are, three months deep into your rehab program, sitting on the floor, and studying another one of Bubba’s “philosophy books” as he called them. He gave you some so that "you weren’t left pacing back and forth in a cell or being stuck with your thoughts all day." Granted you do try to do a few exercises to build your strength back. You discovered it was the best way to distract your mind from the mere thought of desiring red smoke. At least the books give you more to do in your cell.

To you, it was all heretic propaganda to stray the weak-minded away from the divine truth. It was still intriguing to study about, all the same. Besides, if you're going to be staying with the heretics, then now is a good time to start learning about their world and culture. As much as you hate to admit it, you're beginning to understand why many heretics find these kinds of teachings appealing. Not only does it go against everything the Prototype preaches, but there were so many teachings to choose from. How do the heretics even know which teachings are true? How do they know which teachings they should follow for the rest of their lives?

It was all so strange.

Back home, there is only one absolute truth: everything that happens in the galaxy is thanks to the Prototype. He’s the eternal source of happiness, of wisdom, of strength, of a second chance at life. He is in control of all. He gives his people his gifts, and in turn, they serve him. They devote their lives to him. To not believe in this truth would mean certain death.

In the heretic world, it seems it is up to the individual to shape the world in their image. Apparently, to discover the truth, you have to be willing to question everything. But how do these heretics expect to survive if they're expected to find their own happiness? How can they be trusted to take control of their lives when they don't fully know whether they made the right decision or not? How are they able to peacefully co-exist despite their differing beliefs?

Perhaps it's something you can clarify with the Space Riders when they come in for yet another visit. They've visited you quite frequently, but it was all so strange. They never asked you anything about the Prototype or the cult. In fact, the topic of conversation was always about… you. They would ask what you have been doing in “rehab” as they call it, how you are managing your red smoke cravings, what you have learned, how are the books (in Bubba’s case), and possible arrangements that are to be made once you are back in their custody. When they exhausted those topics, then they would make conversation with you...

Er...

...More like they would TRY to make conversation with you and you would give short answers. Sometimes, you wouldn't say anything at all. They never forced you to speak, nor did they ever punish you for being insubordinate. Instead, they just moved on to a different topic. This was something you never understood, but maybe they just want you to let your guard down long enough before punishing you.

The echoing of footsteps gets louder and closer to your cell, pulling you away from your thoughts. The seven Space Riders greet you, make themselves comfortable in front of your cell, and begin with the usual questions about you. You bite the bullet and decide you might as well entertain them.

[local-redhead-bookworm]

Finished Gundam 00. My closing thoughts, in no particular order:

I’m glad that almost everyone has their happy ending and something to keep working toward

I enjoyed how Graham’s arc was about learning to live for something other than revenge (you may be noticing a recurring pattern with me). He spent most of season two being driven only by his desire to fight Setsuna again for honor, and how it closes with him finding something new to live for.

I still find Katagiri’s story a bit frustrating. Like yes Sumeragi shouldn’t have used his feelings to her advantage, but my guy. Becoming a fascist is already a bad idea, somehow it’s even worse when it’s motivated by relationship issues

Lyle killing Al-Saachez is just as deserved as if Setsuna had done it. I know we’d just had the whole big realization about the necessity of understanding each other, but Al-Saachez had no interest in trying to understand anyone else.

I was so upset about Tieria, but if he’s still alive inside Veda he’s not really gone. It’s like how in Ninjago Pixal went from an android body to being a program in Zane’s memory bank. Idk, it’s been a long time since I watched Ninjago

This show takes a very interesting philosophy on war. Wing asked more vague questions on the ethics of war, and what happens when you take humanity out of the fight and replace it with technology. IBO comes closest to truly analyzing the role of capitalism in war. But 00 questions the interplay of diplomacy and war, and how our approach to interpersonal conflict affects how we approach conflict on a broader scale. The message I feel 00 was aiming for is one that aligns with some of my core beliefs: in order for us to live at peace, we must see each other as equals and make every possible effort to understand each other. We may not always succeed, but if we approach our problems with the goal to find common ground and work together, the world will be a better place. Will it be perfect? No. But we don’t have to be perfect, we just have to try to be better

I’m really fascinated by the angle this show has on religion, sin, and deity. The religious themes are baked into the show, starting with a protagonist raised in a militaristic religious war, to the final villain being a man who wants to make himself God because he sees humanity as below him. There is also an element of guilt, the idea that there is blood on everyone’s hands. There is blood on the hands of the soldiers, but there is also blood on the hands of the civilians who choose to remain ignorant and look away. But the show does not say that we have to find a way to wash off that blood, only that we learn from the past and keep growing and trying to be better each day.

I did feel like all of this was slightly undercut by the fact that at the end, Celestial Being is still active. However, it did seem that Celestial Being would be looking less to act as they did in season one and more to work in conjunction with diplomatic forces, as a last resort when all else failed or intervening to help the innocent. I’m still a bit saddened that Setsuna doesn’t get to settle down and live a peaceful life, but that wouldn’t be realistic with him, to be fair. Marina says it herself, all he knows how to do is fight; if he cannot stop fighting, he has to change how and why he fights.

I really enjoyed this show overall. To be fair, there’s yet to be a single Gundam piece I wholeheartedly dislike, but I like a lot of how this story was told.

I feel like this one was a lot less character-oriented than other Gundam stories were. It works for this particular story, because like Wing, it’s interested in asking a broader philosophical question and less on the characters themselves in the situations. The characters’ backstories are important to why they choose to become involved with Celestial Being, but their life experiences did not have much influence on them otherwise. I do think that’s because the scope of this show was so big, and we as the audience are looking at this entire story from a much broader scope, so the extreme minutiae of character are less important than the broad strokes that lay the scene for a much bigger conversation.

[harrypotterfuryroad]

can you talk about your thoughts on the Witch Trials podcast? I liked hearing JK’s interview but not much of the rest of it

short version is that it was way too both-sidesy about everything when the two sides did not warrant equal weight

like it kinda posed itself as a primer on “the debate” but it never really covered why the trans movement has a problem with jk rowling. you have contrapoints on saying things like “joanne’s words are very hurtful :c” without detailing what specifically he’s reacting to

and it felt like the producers didn’t really have a grasp of things going into the whole project. they started with a recap of how evangelicals lost their minds over harry potter in the 90s (which for the record i thought was really good reporting) and they had the correct takeaway message of “this group is not really reacting to the books but more leveraging their popularity to push their own agenda and interests”

and i figured they would obviously see the parallels between then and now but they don’t even make the connection, they just act like jk rowling was the center of two media kerfuffles by sheer coincidence

the parts where she actually got to talk were good, but megan phelps roper was kind of a softball interviewer. felt like someone with more journalistic experience would’ve gotten a better interview from her

when megan tried to tie in her own experiences was where the wheels really started to fall off. she doesn’t seem like she’s really grappled with or processed a lot of what happened to her, to the point where i don’t think she even realizes she was part of a cult. her framing of it was “i was raised in a religious family and they taught me hateful beliefs but i don’t agree with them anymore” which like, is ok if you’re a standard middle america christian kid, but you’ve got a bit more to go through if your grandpa is fred fucking phelps. i’m not blaming her for existing or anything, like i know everyone heals at their own rate, but maybe put the podcasting on hold until you get some perspective on cult dynamics

like her takeaway from the experience at this point seems to be “that group taught me to be mean to people, maybe i should be nice to everyone” which led her to give people like natalie wynn a bit more credit than they deserve here. the podcast briefly covers the forstater case and the june 2020 essay, but hardly gets into detail, especially against critics. megan takes everything they say at face value and never makes them explain or defend why they’re saying that jk rowling is a harmful bigot. like beyond whether or not you agree with the claim, it’s just basic journalism to get them to provide evidence

side note but the fact that she pretty much let contrapoints run the show and say whatever he wanted and portray himself as the victim and he still got eaten alive by pride flag pfp twitter users says way more than the podcast ever did

so yeah bottom line it felt like they didn’t really have a throughline for the whole podcast and they were just kinda figuring it out as they went. the recap of the 90s stuff was interesting bc i was like 8 when it all happened so i was kinda only peripherally aware of it and it was nice to have the hindsight perspective, but they just didn’t do anything to connect the dots

[tragediaandcomedia]

Where are my bitches in the Moongirl and Devil Dinosaur fandom?? That shows 20x better than the owl house ever was but the fandoms tiny! More people absolutely need to watch it tbh its so progressive and powerful, with such fun and unique characters and well written relationships, its a visual treat and the soundtrack is incredible and just. Mwah! Chefs kiss best Disney show since Ducktales (2017) ended.

I am not a person of colour nor would i ever claim to be an expert on the issues and hardships faced by people of colour, but i hold personally deeply socialist views having been raised in predominantly "lower class" poor suburban areas a majority of my life while intermingling with the comfortably rich in my education, and as such this show speaks to me and my voice in a way not many others have, by landing expressly on the side of the people and in particular the repressed and minority. Its a show about black voices, queer voices, religious voices, female voices, neurodivergent voices,latin-american voices and pride in community and lifestyles, its a show about the importance of community, and its all in a god damn marvel show. Its so unlike anything to have come out in years, all while being fun, with fantastically choreographed action scenes and incredible visuals, its bright and colourful and yet knows when to pull its punches, slow down and convey the importance of the themes and messages of the episodes.

So many episodes as well speak to issues that i have never faced in my life, and yet the show and its characters are so charming, and so expressive and fun that anyone can come to understand and empathise with the issues it presents. A highlight to me is the episode on black hair, again as someone whiter than the milk in your coffee i have never experienced the struggles and discrimination associated with black hair, and yet. The episode inspired me to learn about it, all the gorgeous ways it can be styled, the different hair types, which has not only been huge for my creative character designs but inspired an even deeper appreciation than before for a form of art i didn't even know existed (and trust me. Hair styling is an art form when done well). The show introduces new [most likely, predominantly white] audiences to these facets of black life and culture that previous childrens media never quite tackled before, while equally remaining relatable and friendly towards the People of Colour who watch these shows two, never talking down to them about black issues but rather treating them as the experts and authorities, its honestly incredible and i just cant go back to watching most other shows with how respectful and mature Moongirl is, its brilliant.

Overall, i know im just one silly little guy, rambling about a show he thinks deserves far more love than its getting, but in a post Owl House disney TV world, i really think Moongirl and Devil Dinosaur deserves equally as much love and attention as that show got, perhaps even more for just having relatively better POC representation (from what i understand hearing from other voices, anyway, if I've gotten that wrong please feel free to correct!)

In conclusion. Go watch Moongirl and Devil Dinosaur or I'll lick your doorknobs /lhj/nsrs/nf/pos

[thesinglesjukebox]

COLDPLAY FT. LITTLE SIMZ, BURNA BOY, ELYANNA, AND TINI - "WE PRAY"

Who is "we"?

[3.60]

Harlan Talib Ockey: I pray that someday I’ll be able to score a Coldplay song highly. The generic hype strings make “We Pray” feel like a particularly boring commercial. Or something Hillsong-adjacent, given that the lyrics sound religious, even though this song is about so little I’m not sure they entirely are. The problem with “big idea” songs that try to enumerate everything wrong with the world is that they rarely have room for an actual message. What is “We Pray” trying to say? “I hope literally everything bad gets better soon”? Coldplay does name a few specific things (Virgilio Aguilar Mendez, “Baraye”), but it’s not obvious why Chris Martin connects them here other than the general idea that oppression is bad. Meanwhile, the rest of the lyrics are just vaguely inspirational soup. “Pray that I can lift up, pray my brother is blessed”? What? Elyanna and TINI seem to only be on here for a single line of backing vocals, and Burna Boy is surprisingly scarce too. Little Simz’s verse is as aimless as the rest of the song, and a large chunk of it is verbatim from her feature on Sault’s “Free.” It’s not hard to guess that a song with four featured artists might sound unfocused, but then again, it’s never clear what “We Pray” wanted to tell us in the first place. [1]

Aaron Bergstrom: Coldplay debuted "We Pray" at Glastonbury, prominently featuring the lyric "pray Virgilio wins," four months after the state of Florida dismissed all charges against Virgilio Aguilar Mendez. Rare good news from the American judiciary, and you just know Chris Martin believes he somehow deserves some credit for it. [2]

Nortey Dowuona: Don't worry, Chris, he did! Song's cool. Simz' verse is good. [6]

Katherine St. Asaph: Equating "my friend will pull through" and "Virgilio [Aguilar Mendez] wins" with "some records to play" as prayers is the kind of megastar musician grandstanding we haven't seen since Bono. [2]

Taylor Alatorre: The near-opposite of Flo Rida's "I Cry," a song whose fidgety energy and unassuming nature allowed it to wring a skewed kind of poignancy out of the usual nonsense (as well as sneak an Anders Brevik reference onto Top 40 without anyone noticing). "We Pray" is also founded on placeholder lyricism, but it's far less kinetic than the Flo Rida kind, and the stilted ballroom pace puts the hollowness of its sentiments front and center. Little Simz and Burna Boy are all too capable of blending into the blandness, which doesn't help Coldplay but does serve as useful advertising for their own crossover services. Instant global village, just add vocalist. [3]

Will Adams: Not much of note about this piece of inspiro-dreck besides the fact that Coldplay released a few variants of "We Pray" in which either Elyanna or TINI take the second verse. They also released a version where the second verse is left blank for, in the band's words, "your own inspiration." I believe this is a cheap ploy to get people to perform unpaid labor in order to improve their bad song. Don't fall for it! [3]

Mark Sinker: No one is ever going to say that Chris Martin has an exciting voice — and maybe that’s alway been the point, why not? Just treat the long-gone Eno era as their true template: this sound and this song as nothing but by-the-yard generative ambient backdrop, with some actual throats and tongues and lips dropped in front of it, to be the real element that you remember.  [7]

Jacob Sujin Kuppermann: All of this mustered effort to create something only moderately more interesting than the median late-period Coldplay single. This aims for planetary benefit show largesse but instead feels like what would happen if Civilization got to commission e-sports jock jams the way League of Legends does — grand global gestures, hollow at their core. [6]

Ian Mathers: Surely he/they can't need the money, right? Even the bits where more interesting vocalists are performing, this just feels so hollow and perfunctory. It truly takes all kinds, but from over here it's hard to imagine anyone felt the white-hot heat of artistic inspiration driving them. More like it's designed to be minimum viable product to keep the Coldplay name alive and then be forgotten. [3]

Dave Moore: Credibility: borrowed. Feelings: expressed. Dragons: imagined.  [3]

[Read, comment and vote on The Singles Jukebox]

[pancake-breakfast]

Aight, friend. I put some thought into this, and I decided that if there was one Inquisitor or Warden I've played that deserves having their tale told, it has to be for my Warden on what I like to call my Good Chantry Boy Mage playthrough.

This was my second playthrough, and rather than do another (semi-)canon run, I wanted to try something else, so I set some ground rules:

He had to be a tower mage, of course.

While a mage, he was pretty firmly on the Chantry's side when it came to mages. (This had some interesting effects when the Good Chantry Boy-ness was carried over to DA2, but I digress.)

While he followed Chantry precepts as best he could, he was not allowed to be an idiot about it. That means someone couldn't just walk up to him and say, "The Maker sent me here with a message for you!" and he'd automatically believe them and go do whatever they told him to do. He would assess it against what he knew of Chantry teachings, and then he would decide for himself whether he thought they were telling the truth. While he held the head mage in his tower in high esteem, he was not ignorant to people abusing Chantry power, so he approached anyone new he met who claimed to be speaking with religious authority with caution.

He believed that even the worst people deserve a second chance if they genuinely seem to want to try and do better or make up for their wrongs.

NO BLOOD MAGIC.

The last point might seem like it goes without saying, but it's important to state because he also had to take the most objectively horrible spells I could give him. This meant going all the way up the Telekinesis tree to get Crushing Prison, taking a LOT of spells from the Entropy tree, and of course making sure to get my all-time favorite AoE horror show, Virulent Walking Bomb. (I streamed a decent chunk of my playthrough for friends, and spent no small amount of time unconvincingly trying to convince them that this magic was fine for him to have because even if it involved blood, it didn't involve demons and was Chantry sanctioned, and therefore it wasn't really blood magic and everything was good.)

Anyway, I didn't take a lot of screenshots from that playthrough (or if I did, I've lost them), but after he reached a certain proficiency, combat often looked something like this:

(I honestly don't remember what I did here to end up with two characters dead. It could have been a particularly difficult fight, or it could have just been another instance of carelessly triggering virulent walking bomb before I'd quite moved everyone except Shale out of the way, since she was the only one who could usually survive the full brunt of it.)

Despite his own penchant for exploding his enemies into a huge cloud of blood, he was very much not a fan of blood mages. His origin story ensured this went from a passive Blood Mages = Bad to something more personal, since he went to bat for his stupid friend, claiming the stupid friend was not a blood mage, only to find out that his friend was indeed a blood mage, and the fact that he'd been "in collusion" with said friend led to my poor character getting kicked out of his home.

Running into Jowan later in Redcliffe was extremely difficult for him. He still cared a lot about his friend, but his friend had done some absolutely terrible things and by Chantry law (and decent morals), deserved death. But Good Chantry Boy Mage was a kind-hearted soul, and Jowan seemed genuinely remorseful over a lot of things. GCBM couldn't bear to kill his old friend, so he told Jowan to get out of there and that he never wanted to see him again.

He was also wary of apostates. He figured some of them were just misguided or had bad experiences with templars or other authorities who did un-Chantry-like things in the Chantry's name. And then there was Morrigan.

They clashed constantly. My Morrigan Disapproves meter was very high, probably due in no small part to him continually trying to get her to see his way and her telling him in no small words that his way was stupid. Then, somewhere fairly early in the game, she made yet another Very Non-Chantry Compliant Suggestion, and he ended up kicking her out of the group (which means I still have yet to complete a DA:O run with a full party sans Alistair... but again, I digress).

She was so incensed at this turn of events, but not as incensed as she would be later. Because she still shows up when you get near endgame. And she has a proposition to make.

It's been a while and I don't remember the conversation word for word (and am feeling too lazy to look it up), so instead let me recreate it here to the best of my memory:

Morrigan: Warden. It's been a while. Good Chantry Boy Mage: Oh. You. Morrigan: I'm familiar with your current predicament, and I have a proposition to--. GCBM: No. Morrigan: I beg your pardon? GCBM: No. Get out. Morrigan: But you haven't even heard what I'm-- GCBM: Get. Out. Or I will call the guards.

Not that the guards would be able to do much against her since they clearly hadn't stopped her getting in, but she got the idea at this point. She stood up and huffed out of the room, muttering the whole way about how ridiculous and absolutely foolish my character was being by not even listening to her suggestion. This muttering continued until she got past the door and shapeshifted into a wolf before running off into the darkness. It also did nothing to convince GCBM that he should have listened to her proposition.

I, on the other hand, laughed heartily through the whole thing. Incensed Morrigan is so flustered that it's hilarious. (I don't hate Morrigan. I think she's a fascinating character with an excellent arc across the games. But oh, man, there was no way she was gonna get treated well on this playthrough.)

Let's see, what else....

He romanced Leliana (though he was initially uncertain about her sheer dedication to her Mission), and he was absolutely BFFs with Alistair (they had a hilarious conversation where they both confessed to being virgins and Alistair gave him a friendly middle finger, rendered offscreen).

Unfortunately, he lost said BFF in the conflict with Loghain, as GCBM's desire to offer the Teyrn the chance at redemption through becoming a Grey Warden was apparently too much for our poor resident golden retriever. GCBM was sad about that... but grateful for Loghain's help. Alistair's departure was made even more frustrating for him by the fact that Loghain himself made the ultimate sacrifice when we fought the archdemon, thus making Alistair's objections kinda moot.

I didn't go through the post-game DLC with him. (Unlike a lot of folk who recommended the game to me, I did not care for Awakenings overall.) I like to imagine he did his very very best to try and re-establish the Grey Wardens in Ferelden, and was very keen on picking up all manner of strays who both needed and wanted a new lease on life. I doubt he funneled them all into the Grey Wardens, but he would have been more than happy to do what he could to help others find a place for themselves.

It's my birthday on Saturday and I'm going through a rough time with my health, and I've really missed talking about Dragon Age. I love this fandom, so for my birthday wish this year I'd love for you to tell me about your Warden and/or your Inqy. You can use tags, reply, reblog, or DM me if you want to be anonymous.

I want to know everything about them

What's their backstory?

Who did they romance?

What did they do after the events of DAO/DAI?

Tell me anything you like, show me pics, this is an open invitation to info dump.

Thank you in advance!

[dickwheelie]

sooooooo I wrote a sequel to that love entities jmart post that got pretty popular. all you really need to know is that post mag 200 jon becomes a local cryptid and listens to people's stories about encounters with the entities to help unburden them of some of their fear. please enjoy!

_____________

Just inside the entryway of Old Fishmarket Close, hidden just out of sight of the street, there stands a shrine. It is not an old shrine of weathered stone, nor is it carefully crafted with intricate religious symbols, nor is it static, weighed down by years of collected dust. It is in many ways a living shrine; flowers bloom and wilt at its feet, while above it, against the wall of the Close, piles of paper, photographs, and keepsakes are haphazardly stacked and stuck. The shrine seems to breathe as each day passes, as innumerable and unsung hands replace its flowers and let their offerings crawl up its wall like vines.

The shrine is not marked, but everyone who looks for it, in the shadows of the entryway, knows precisely who it is for.

You arrive that day with only a piece of notebook paper in your hand. Upon it is written a short message, and not an uncommon one to see at the shrine: Thank You. A substitute, of sorts, for the flowers and other gifts that people often leave. You, like many others, are not well off, and you hope that a small note can make up for your lack of material offerings.

As you approach the shrine, a gust of wind whistles through the alleyway and rustles the pages plastered across the length of the wall. You’ve brought no adhesive, so you slip the piece of paper partially beneath a bouquet lying on the stone walkway. It’s relatively fresh, so you hope it won’t be moved anytime soon. You’ve no idea who replaces the flowers, but you suspect it’s never the same person twice. The locals all know about the shrine and the person it’s meant for, and they’ve grown protective of them both.

Dozens of other people have had the same idea before you; the ground is littered with short notes of gratitude. Thank you for listening, says one, transcribed in loving calligraphy, the i’s dotted with hearts. Thank You For Finding Me, Whoever You Are, says another. I rely lik yor hat, says one written in crayon. Another says, You’ll probably never read this, but thank you for hearing my story. There must be hundreds of them, and there are more each time you visit.

You had spent the better part of the morning trying to come up with something more eloquent to write, but you’ve never been great with words. Telling the mysterious person your story had been the only time you’d ever felt as though your words matched your thoughts, that what came out of your mouth was exactly how you felt, and that the person you were talking to understood you fully.

You suppose a thank you is better than nothing, and after one last fond look at the shrine, you turn to go.

A footstep that is not your own echoes down the alleyway. You turn, half-alarmed, but relax at once when you see who it is.

You have only ever seen him once before, about a month ago when you told him your story, but he is difficult to forget; his figure tall and thin, his posture horrendous, his features hidden entirely by a long coat and a wide-brimmed hat. He stands now at the far end of the alleyway, hands clutched before his hunched torso, giving you the distinct impression he’s staring directly at you.

“Um, hello,” you say, haltingly. You’re not quite sure how to address him, but you figure a polite greeting is universal. You gesture at the shrine. “I don’t have, uh, another story or anything. I was just leaving a note for you.”

His hat tips curiously to the side, and he shuffles forward with his cautious gait, peering closer at the shrine. The dark brim of his hat swivels towards you, as though asking a question.

“The shrine,” you say. “I just left a short note. It’s no big thing, I just—I wanted to leave something.”

The words seem to mean nothing to him. He looks at the shrine, then at you, then back at the shrine. He steps a bit closer to it, and reaches out a long-fingered, gloved hand to touch the petals from a bouquet of daffodils. After the briefest of moments, he pulls away again, hands resuming their wringing.

A thought occurs to you. “Do you . . . do you not know what this is?”

He shakes the hat once.

“This is . . . this is for you,” you say, spreading your arms to encompass the garden on the ground and the sea of pages above. “The flowers, the little trinkets, the thank-you letters—it’s for you. From . . . from all of us, who’ve told you our stories. You’ve helped us so much, we wanted to let you know how much we appreciated it. How grateful we are.”

He doesn’t react, and so you reach out and pick out a card, one that says, Talking to you about how scared I was of the dark made me less afraid of it. I sleep better at night because of what you did for me. Thank you, mysterious stranger. Much love, E.M.

“Here,” you say, handing it to him, and he takes it with a shaky glove. The brim of his hat lowers as he reads. "That’s just one of them. There are loads more just like that.” You survey the pile and pick out another. “This one’s from a kid, thanking you for helping their mom . . . And this one’s just a simple thank you note but they did cover it in glitter glue, so, there’s that . . . And this person wanted you to know that their anxiety improved after talking to you . . .”

He takes note after note from you, reading them all, silent and unexpressive as always, but there’s something in his posture that is unbearably human. Somehow it reminds you of how people stand when they hold a baby chick in their hands.

“I can’t believe you didn’t know,” you say, not unkindly. You’re both sitting on the ground now, amidst the bouquets and piles of thank-yous. “Who else would this all be for?”

As he picks up yet another note, a tremor runs through his body. He raises a gloved hand to the shadows beneath the hat, and you watch as two drops of water stain the page in his hand. His chest convulses as more tears fall, his hand moving under the hat to wipe them away, but they keep coming. Still he makes no sound.

You didn’t know he could cry. You don’t know why you’re surprised; he’s strange, certainly, and perhaps not entirely human . . . but he has heard so many horrible things, and human or not, he deserves a chance to cry.

“Are you—are you okay?” you say, not sure what to do.

The hat nods once, and then shakes.

“I . . . I know it’s probably a lot, all at once,” you say, and you reach out to touch his arm. The movement comes naturally, without much thought; you would have done the same for a friend.

He flinches at your touch, and you immediately pull away, but then he relaxes again, and nods. Tears are still falling from the shadows down onto his coat.

You touch his arm again, gently, and he doesn’t move away. “I’m sorry if it’s overwhelming. But we really are grateful, and you have a bad habit of not accepting thanks. This was one of the only ways we could think to . . . to show you.” You take a deep breath, and gaze into the shadows of where his face might be, doing your best to look him in the eye. “We don’t really know who you are, or why you came here, or why you choose to listen to us. But somehow, we know you mean well. I think everyone who’s told their story knows that, me included. That you’re trying to help us, that you want to do good. And you do. We . . . we want you to know that you’ve done good.”

His chest rises and falls shakily, and though he still makes no sound you swear you can hear a sob. He reaches out and grasps your arm in turn, and suddenly you realize what he needs.

“Can I give you a hug?” you ask.

The hat nods, again and again, and you open your arms, and he falls forward. You would have done the same for a friend.

You almost expect the hug to be gentle, but it is not; it is tight and desperate, and feels so human you do not think twice about hugging him back just as tightly. He is not terribly warm, but you can feel a heart beating beneath his coat. A few tears fall on the back of your jacket. You know that if you just looked up, you would be able to see his face beneath the hat, but you keep your eyes shut tight.

When you move apart, a few moments later, he seems a little more composed, and no more tears fall from beneath the hat. He straightens his back a bit, growing taller even in a sitting position, and you can see just the barest hint of a mouth, which is smiling a delicate, wobbly sort of smile. He brings a gloved hand up to his chin, placing his fingertips against it, and moves them towards you, once, twice.

You are by no means fluent in sign language, but you recognize the sign for Thank you when you see it.

You smile back at him. “You’re welcome,” you say.

He looks back at the shrine, at the piles and piles of notes he has yet to read. You watch as he picks up a handful more, seemingly at random, shuffling them in his hands and pressing them close to his chest. After a pause, he reaches out and slowly picks up one of the bouquets, overflowing with small blue flowers. You’re not entirely sure, but you think they might be forget-me-nots. He pulls a single flower from the bunch and tucks it, carefully, into the collar of his coat, as though for safekeeping.

He nods once, satisfactorily, and stands slowly, giving a small bow in your direction before he turns and shuffles back down the alleyway, the bushel of blue flowers peeking over his shoulder, rustling in the breeze.

Just before he is swallowed by the shadows at the far end of the Close, you call out, “Thank you! Again. For . . . for everything.”

It’s certainly just a trick of the light, but when he turns back to look at you, just before the shadows overtake him, you swear you can see the light catch on a single, twinkling eye, crinkled in one corner by what must be a smile.

[eerythingisshaka]

Ficmas Day #9 “Rio rings, are you listening?”

[Rio x Reader]

Word Count: 1.4k

Across the street from the church, you grow more and more hesitant.  It has been a while since you stepped foot in one and even longer since you practiced any faith.  You take a minute to look up at the steeple, illuminated by the warm glow behind colored glass in the window.  Your breath creates quickly dissipating clouds in front of your face as the wind whips in your direction.  You push your hands deeper into our pockets, looking both ways before stepping out into the street.

Your boots crunch over the salt rocks scattered over the concrete steps as you make your way to the heavy wood doors.  Even through your mitt, you can feel how cold the brass handles our as you pull it open and step inside.

The atmosphere is instantly quieter once you pass the threshold and the door closes with a low tone thunk.  Looking around you see an effigy of Jesus on the cross with a spotlight on him.  Your eyes cast downward at the sight, feeling instantly judged and fearful that lightning might strike you down for presenting yourself this late in your life.  Walking down the pew lined aisle, you look around at the candles that line the windows, decorated with faux holly leaves.  You take a seat in the middle of the right side, squeaking under your weight.

Breathing in deeply, your nose catches a faint smell of frankincense in the air, bringing back memories of blessed oil and healing.

“Well, I’m here,” you say out loud, at first to know one in particular but looking up, you remember your audience.  “Or I guess you know that already.”

Looking down at your mittened hands, you have many thoughts but none of them fully prepared to come out.

“Good evening.”

You hop up out of your seat as you look to see a man in all black walking across the front of the church slowly, hands behind his back and looking down.  His voice did not match his stance as he sounds very strong and commanding.  

“Hi!  Uh, I just was looking for somewhere quiet to sit awhile,”  you explain.

He stops in front of you, rows of pews separating yourselves from each other.  

“Are the library’s closed?” he asks.

“Yes.  I mean, no?  I don’t know actually, I can leave though if-”

He raises a hand.  “No need.  Take a seat.”

“Yes, Reverend.  Or Priest?”  You struggle to get his proper titling down.

“You can just call me Rio.  For now.”  

The rasp in his voice seems calming and also violent, as if he just got through yelling at someone or is just about to at any moment because his vocal cords have been worked out.  Preachers do enjoy a stirring sermon to work a collection plate flow.

“Ok, sure.”  You sit down again, even more uncomfortable than before.  Rio looks over the altar, peering up at Jesus for a while.  You can’t help but to stare, curious if he’s going to remain here with you.

“Are you a member of this church?”  Rio asks with his back to you.

“No.  I was a while ago, but I don’t think it counts now.”

Rio looks back at you.  “I don’t think God has a re-registration process for His sheep, right?”

You shrug.  “I think that’s when it’s up to interpretation.”

Rio shakes his head with a small smirk.  He starts to slowly walk his way up the aisle, looking around the sanctuary.

“If it’s how you interpret it, then that is based on what you feel you deserve.  Your inner bias creates that narrative you think is true,”  Rio states.

Biting your lip, you take this in.  “Still, I think there is something to be said about not giving Him the time required to fully show one’s devotion.”

Rio sits in the pew on the other side of the aisle, right across from you.  He stretches his leg out, leaning on the end armrest and looks curiously at you.  For the first time you notice some marking on his neck.

“So you decide to spend your holiday having a religious debate instead of spending it with family?”

“Oh, yeah.  Anywhere is better than having to deal with the mess they bring into my life.”  You say this half heartedly, looking to Jesus at the front again.  

“Then why are you at your childhood church?”

You scoff.  “Do I look that young that you assume I was a child here?”

RIo smiles, looking away.  “Maybe.  Just a guess.”

“You’re right.  And I came here to try and resolve some things.  My family doesn’t know I am here yet.  They will be here tomorrow for Christmas service and I got curious what the place looks like now while...searching for some spiritual courage.”

Rio nods.  “You and your family separated on bad terms then?”

You nod.

“I see.  Then I give you credit for coming up in here even thinking about them.  You seem to be doing alright for yourself, you could just go on and work on yourself without them.”

You turn to him, stretching your face in confusion.  “I am really surprised you would say that.  First, thanks for thinking that.  Life is trash, but you can’t tell so yay!  And two, I thought you would be like I need to keep family close and repair and reach out.”

Rio shakes his head.  “Cuz I wouldn’t say that.  People think too much about how what they do affects others when you have to think is what you do better for them in the long run?  If they don’t respect you or try to, you showing up is going to be disrespectful.  But if the peace is kept between you while you’re gone, stay gone.”

“I can’t help but think that’s pessimistic.”

Rio shrugs.  “Maybe it is, but some pessimism gotta be healthy.  It’s looking at the world for what it is and accepting what you can’t change then adapting.  Just because you’re away doesn’t mean you can’t love them or they love you less.  But some people just can’t get along.  It’s water and oil.”

You sit there flabbergasted by this man of God’s advice.  Have you been looking at this completely wrong?  Has the spirit of Christmas made you think of an artificial means of reconciliation that you aren’t prepared for and may never will be?

“Hey, Rio…” you ask in mid-thought.

“What’s up?”

“Before I head out, I just gotta know, what are those markings on your neck there?”

Rio reaches for his collar, holding his neck with a smile on his face.  “I don’t think you need to see this in a church.  I’ll let you guess though.”

You squint your eyes at him.  “If I had to guess, I imagine it’s something from...a past life?  Maybe you used to be into somethings and you got a...tattoo?”

Rio puts a finger to his lips with a wink.  “Past lives never really are the past though.”

You sit back intrigued.  “Wow, I have never seen someone in church...like you.”  You laugh nervously, enjoying his smile back at you when a man from a back door comes out in a jean jacket, skinhead with more tattoos you can see.  Rio stands up, smoothing out his shirt.

“If you’ll excuse me, I have some business to take care of.  I have to help the preacher prep for tomorrow’s service.”

Your eyes widen with surprise.  “You’re not the preacher?  Oh man, I’m sorry!  I just assumed, being in all black and I thought you were here alone.”

“It’s ok.  Black is just more professional.  It’s my color.  It’s powerful.  You can consider me the preacher's assistant with...finances.  But I’m glad we got to have a talk while you were here.”

You stand up, reaching out a hand.  “Me too.  It’s nice talking to someone with their head on straight.  I’ll think about all you said.”

Rio takes your hands firmly, looking down from it to you.  You feel exposed under his gaze but unwilling to turn loose from it.

“I hope I’ll see you tomorrow.  Should be a good turn out.  Good message from the big man.”

He lets go of your hand and you’re only sad you didn’t take your mitt first to know how soft or rough they were.  He makes you want to know more about him but the night is getting later.

“Ok.  I’ll be here.  You have a good Christmas Eve.”

“You as well.”  Rio nods to you as he joins his counterpart in the backroom.  You walk toward the doors you came from, looking back at the empty sanctuary, leaving with a feeling you didn’t think you’d have but is as close to a holiday spirit than you ever had.

@chaneajoyyy​

[ladybinary]

Horde Prime is a sexy bastard and that's thematically the point

*Helloooooo.*

YEP IT’S ANOTHER SUPER PERSONAL PSYCHOANALYSIS ESSAY ABOUT A CARTOON. Season 5 spoilers (episodes 1-5 only). 

So, a bit of context. I had a different introduction to Prime than most watchers - and therefore a slightly different first impression. I'd foolishly skipped seasons 2 through 4, so I "met" Prime BEFORE I cared about Hordak or identified with his backstory. I watched s5 eps 2-5 first, and quite enjoyed his sleek, loyal, competent clones (I LOVE capable henchmen). His first appearance for me was the trophy room scene with Glimmer, where he exudes poise and grace - his composure perfectly controlled, unwavering even at Glimmer's violent outburst of defiance. 

Obviously my tech/xeno kink is a major player here - love the hair cables and extra eyes. But a deeper, more Problematic part of me stans *hard* for Prime's suave elegance, his silky-voiced air of easy, absolute confidence - the confidence of having absolute dominion over everything around him. The complete self-assurance that *he embodies Perfection*. I was especially struck by the s5e5 "maintenance" scene - where Prime explains to Adora, while affectionately caressing his clone attendants, how his Brothers not only tithe their life force, but are all potential *vessels* for his own immortal consciousness. He says this while gently cupping the face of one clone attendant. The clone wears an adoring, worshipful expression - and clearly *blushes* as Prime then strokes over his head and down the back of his skull, and leaves his hand resting over the exposed port at the back of his neck. The port Prime uses to enter their minds. 

I say "enter" rather than "forcibly invade" - because, for the loyal clones, this is a welcome and *consensual* act. Clearly, the blushing attendant is imagining the blissful honor of perhaps, one day, being Chosen as the next Vessel - the honor of giving his body to Prime. (Kinkyyyyy.) To a well-adjusted audience, Prime's relationship with his clones evokes horror and revulsion. Anyone who has known unconditional love and self-worth is unable to imagine feeling devotion towards a figure whose favor is so vampiric, so painfully conditional. My reaction? "Ooo... look how much they *adore* him... and he's *petting* them. That's so validating... and HOT." The clones - just like any child of an abusive, narcissistic, or perfectionist upbringing - *only* understand love and acceptance as a conditional thing. They *know* it’s conditional; they aren't mind-controlled. They've witnessed firsthand the terrible fates of those who don't adhere to Prime's will, his image, his standards. Hordak's story shows how tenuous it is to be in Prime's favor, and yet even Hordak is still desperate to regain Prime's approval. (See the second half of Cruelfeline’s excellent essay on the implications of Hordak’s backstory for a more character-focused look at this idea.) He *knows* Prime will turn on him at the smallest indiscretion, but in his mind, *that's how love works*. It's worth it, because that is the ONLY love they've ever known. The clones have zero self-worth beyond their value to Prime. They'll do anything, even submit themselves to agony and violation, just to be close to him. 

The clones see Prime as a benevolent God, the only true source of worth - and, in his Empire, "Worthy" equates to "Beloved". The obvious (and deliberate) imagery is that of a religious cult; but to me, the metaphor goes far broader. Prime is appealing because he embodies, *exudes* a seductive Lie that many subconsciously believe in our own lives - a set of values so often reinforced not just by abuse or neglect, but by our very society, our culture. A ubiquitous voice that says, softly but sweetly, "If you earn it - if you adhere to this image, this standard - if you are worthy - then, you will be happy. You will be Loved." If you conceal or cast out every flaw. If you stay Productive. If you buy this product. If you mold yourself in the image of perfection and beauty. If, if, if, and *only* if. 

Love, says the Lie, is only for those who *deserve* it. But one day, you will deserve it, and you will have it - if you just try hard enough to be *better.* Prime is suave, elegant, *sexy* - because those beliefs are *so* compelling. They give us a beautiful fantasy, a *dream* we can feel good about chasing. Our society isn’t a hivemind, but that message can still invade our subconscious - even if we don't want it to - even if we don't even realize it’s there. And, for those who haven't experienced *and accepted* values of self-love... that lie is sexy as hell.

[jckelly]

updated intro / jack 101

Is that JACK KELLY? Wow, they do look a lot like VAN MCCANN. I hear HE is an NINETEEN year old FRESHMEN who are studying AEROSPACE ENGINEERING  at Luxor University. Word is they are an ARISTOCRAT student. You should watch out because they can be PHILOPHOBIC and INSINCERE, but on the bright side they can also be WITTY and IMAGINATIVE. Ultimately, you’ll get to see it all for yourself. [YUNI, 21, GMT, SHE/HER]

 the other two got updated intros n rat man felt left out

basics

full name: jackson noel kelly 

nicknames: jack (does not answer to jackson)

date of birth: december 25, 2001

zodiac: capricorn sun, leo ascendant, sagittarius moon

nationality: dual uk and us citizenship

sexual orientation: straight but will try anything once

course: aerospace engineering

appearance

faceclaim: van mccann 

voiceclaim: van mccann

ethnicity: white (english, irish)

height: 5′8 / 173cm

weight: 58kg / 127lbs

eye colour: blue

hair colour: brown

distinctive features: freckles (many), left ear pierced, scars on his wrists usually covered by long sleeves, northern english accent

clothing preferences: jack prefers to only wear black, or at a push grey, although he’s slowly improving and will Occasionally mix it up with ... navy. his style is pretty basic, usually just a sweater, jeans, and beat up black converse or doc martens depending on how emo he’s feeling. the sheffield united hoodie makes an appearance every time someone forgets precisely which uk city jack is from. 

personality

overview

positive traits: witty, imaginative, perseverant, passionate

negative traits: philophobic, disloyal, insincere, callous

mbti: entp

religious beliefs: atheist

description

the first side most people see of jack is the side he wants you to see. a total asshole. it’s not an exaggeration - he’s pretty much infamous for flirting with everyone, dating anyone and as a serial cheater. he’ll actively try to worm his way into your life, and then just when you start to care, he does something to hurt you. he’s strangely persistent, probably helping him to push people even further, until they snap. there is nothing which satisfies him more than managing to wind people up to the extreme, get them to the point where they give up. adopted parents, friends, nobody is immune to this side - he even tries it on the people he genuinely cares about, as if just to see if he’ll still be able to push them away.

the second side, which most people don’t see, is that at heart jack is a kid. he’s the type of person to ask if owls have ears at 3am, or get some childlike joy out of dumb jokes. of course, this is the side nobody but a very small number of people see. and even if you do see it, it never lasts long. he keeps his true personality under wraps even amongst those he does like, and it only slips out if he’s extremely comfortable with you. otherwise, he’ll go straight back to being a sarcastic, flirty piece of shit.

biography

jackson noel kelly was born in hell on ironically christmas day to his father satan......

jk

jack and his older half brother finn were born in sheffield, united kingdom, to a single mother. a drug addict, she was notorious among social workers for neglecting her children and as a result jack shuffled between foster homes and his mother’s home during his first ten years of life, with finn, less than four years older than him, being his primary carer even when he was back with his birth family. this cycle finally ended when jack was ten and he was permanently removed from his mother’s care, and placed in the first of a series of foster homes which didn’t last particularly long.

the thing was, jack’s remarkably good at pushing people away when he wants to, and as he got older his talents only increased. running away, wreaking havoc, insulting anyone who tried to get close and anything else he could possibly think of meant that for three years he lasted no longer than eight months in any one place. in fact, he frequently took himself back to live with his birth family until social services came to drag him out again. this lifestyle continued until he was fostered by his now adopted parents, claire and george, at thirteen.

much to jack’s dismay, no matter of hell raising would push these newest set of parents away. in fact, they seemed absolutely set on raising him as Their Son, even as his attempts to get them off his back got more and more extravagant. they removed him from his previous school, transferred him to a fancy private school, put him in therapy and tried their best to help him get through all of the issues developed through his slightly fucked up childhood.

the thing was, jack loves his mother. he still refuses to see her as being in the wrong, no matter what people tell him or what he himself recalls, in his mind he has one mother and that’s his birth mother. so he did not take kindly to attempts by his foster parents to become his “new” family, because in jack’s mind? he already had a family. and even though they were actively encouraging him to continue contact with his brother, he couldn’t help but see them as trying to replace his birth family.

jack’s fifteenth year pretty much became the year when all of these issues finally came to a head. he was adopted legally by his foster parents, who had now been fostering him for two years - which should have been a happy occasion, but for jack represented the final loss, the final betrayal to his birth mother and brother. then shortly after his fifteenth birthday his brother went to prison at eighteen for grievous bodily harm, having glassed another boy after an argument.

of course, it would later be revealed that in actuality the assault had been committed by jack. and that finn was simply covering for him. (they looked alike enough that questions were not raised, it had happened so fast.) but in the eyes of jack’s adopted parents, finn was now a dangerous offender and jack had to be protected from him. so he was then isolated from his brother, his mother had relapsed and his continuous guilt over being adopted played on his mind, culminating in a suicide attempt in march 2017. 

of course, he wasn’t successful, but this was the final straw in the minds of his adopted parents. they felt jack needed a fresh start, away from the people who had defined his life prior to that point. so by his sixteenth birthday, jack had been moved to the united states to be near the family of his adopted mother, and subsequently enrolled in luxor academy. 

where he continued to be a menace :))

although it did appear, for some time, that jack was showing signs of improvement. sure, he was still wreaking havoc at luxor. but at home, he had calmed, even showing signs of affection to his adopted family. until his mother overdosed suddenly and died when jack was eighteen and things started to immediately go straight downhill again.

he can’t help but blame himself, for allowing himself to be moved. for the move being his fault, if he’s being honest. and if the honesty continues, jack’s got a whole lot of other stuff to blame on himself. (see: ruining his brother’s life.) so now he’s just taking shit out on everyone to try and make them a fraction as miserable as him. 

npc connections

birth fam

finn kelly / fc: jake bugg / b. may 10 1998 / taurus sun, gemini ascendant, pisces moon

finley, who also refuses to use his full name, is jack’s older brother - same mother, different father.  jack thinks he’s boring because he doesn’t raise hell with every opportunity. finn calls this “being a sane person.” went to prison for jack and regrets it. pastimes include crying over murakami books and trying to look shocked when jack tells him about the newest crisis he’s having. 

lauren kelly / fc: elena tonra / b. february 20 1983 - d. april 1 2020 / pisces sun, aries ascendant, leo moon

jack’s birth mother, who was still a teenager when he and finn were born. she was an on again, off again drug addict and had jack removed from her care when he was ten due to continued neglect. instilled in him a love for oasis and a hefty number of mental health issues. looked pretty much exactly like jack. 

jordan taylor / fc: alex turner / b. october 12 1984 / libra sun, leo ascendant, virgo moon

jack’s birth father, who he knows little about. not for lack of trying on his father’s part, who was prevented from seeing jack as a child by his birth mother and blocked from trying to make contact by jack’s refusal to interact. he keeps trying to message jack and jack is running out of daddy issues memes to respond with. finn thinks jack should give him a chance to redeem himself. jack thinks finn should fuck off. 

adopted fam

claire fielding / fc: julia roberts / b. may 12 1964 / taurus sun, cancer ascendant, leo moon

jack’s adopted mother. loves him very much and is convinced he is a sweet boy who just needs love and help. has written a memoir about adopting jack. jack is mad at her constantly. when he is not mad at her, he is embarrassed by her existence. honestly deserves better.

george fielding / fc: timothy olyphant / b. november 6, 1963 / scorpio sun, capricorn ascendant, virgo moon

is proud of jack, but very deep down underneath a strong layer of calling jack out on his bullshit. has some loud ass shouting matches with jack. also really wishes jack would sort his hair out and maybe not look like a cheap liam gallagher. jack honestly just winds him up constantly and he knows jack is doing it but goddamnit it’s so hard to not be mad at the little rat. 

other

maisie adeyemi / fc: yewande biala / b. january 6, 1997 / capricorn sun, sagittarius ascendant, aries moon

finn’s fiancee. her goal in life is to try to get jack to ruin finn’s life at least 70% less often. she has yet to achieve this goal. her love language is setting finn’s phone to silent when he goes to bed to stop jack from phoning in with some sort of random crisis at four in the morning because the little shit forgot timezones exist. finn will never find out. maisie is grateful that men have no brains. 

[glittergummicandypeach]

Fake Hafez: How a supreme Persian poet of love was erased | Religion | Al Jazeera

This is the time of the year where every day I get a handful of requests to track down the original, authentic versions of some famed Muslim poet, usually Hafez or Rumi. The requests start off the same way: "I am getting married next month, and my fiance and I wanted to celebrate our Muslim background, and we have always loved this poem by Hafez. Could you send us the original?" Or, "My daughter is graduating this month, and I know she loves this quote from Hafez. Can you send me the original so I can recite it to her at the ceremony we are holding for her?"

It is heartbreaking to have to write back time after time and say the words that bring disappointment: The poems that they have come to love so much and that are ubiquitous on the internet are forgeries. Fake. Made up. No relationship to the original poetry of the beloved and popular Hafez of Shiraz.

How did this come to be? How can it be that about 99.9 percent of the quotes and poems attributed to one the most popular and influential of all the Persian poets and Muslim sages ever, one who is seen as a member of the pantheon of "universal" spirituality on the internet are ... fake? It turns out that it is a fascinating story of Western exotification and appropriation of Muslim spirituality.

Let us take a look at some of these quotes attributed to Hafez:

Even after all this time, the sun never says to the earth, 'you owe me.' Look what happens with a love like that! It lights up the whole sky.

You like that one from Hafez? Too bad. Fake Hafez.

Your heart and my heart Are very very old friends.

Like that one from Hafez too? Also Fake Hafez.

Fear is the cheapest room in the house. I would like to see you living in better conditions.

Beautiful. Again, not Hafez.

And the next one you were going to ask about? Also fake. So where do all these fake Hafez quotes come from?

An American poet, named Daniel Ladinsky, has been publishing books under the name of the famed Persian poet Hafez for more than 20 years. These books have become bestsellers. You are likely to find them on the shelves of your local bookstore under the "Sufism" section, alongside books of Rumi, Khalil Gibran, Idries Shah, etc.

It hurts me to say this, because I know so many people love these "Hafez" translations. They are beautiful poetry in English, and do contain some profound wisdom. Yet if you love a tradition, you have to speak the truth: Ladinsky's translations have no earthly connection to what the historical Hafez of Shiraz, the 14th-century Persian sage, ever said.

He is making it up. Ladinsky himself admitted that they are not "translations", or "accurate", and in fact denied having any knowledge of Persian in his 1996 best-selling book, I Heard God Laughing. Ladinsky has another bestseller, The Subject Tonight Is Love.

Persians take poetry seriously. For many, it is their singular contribution to world civilisation: What the Greeks are to philosophy, Persians are to poetry. And in the great pantheon of Persian poetry where Hafez, Rumi, Saadi, 'Attar, Nezami, and Ferdowsi might be the immortals, there is perhaps none whose mastery of the Persian language is as refined as that of Hafez.

In the introduction to a recent book on Hafez, I said that Rumi (whose poetic output is in the tens of thousands) comes at you like you an ocean, pulling you in until you surrender to his mystical wave and are washed back to the ocean. Hafez, on the other hand, is like a luminous diamond, with each facet being a perfect cut. You cannot add or take away a word from his sonnets. So, pray tell, how is someone who admits that they do not know the language going to be translating the language?

Ladinsky is not translating from the Persian original of Hafez. And unlike some "versioners" (Coleman Barks is by far the most gifted here) who translate Rumi by taking the Victorian literal translations and rendering them into American free verse, Ladinsky's relationship with the text of Hafez's poetry is nonexistent. Ladinsky claims that Hafez appeared to him in a dream and handed him the English "translations" he is publishing:

"About six months into this work I had an astounding dream in which I saw Hafiz as an Infinite Fountaining Sun (I saw him as God), who sang hundreds of lines of his poetry to me in English, asking me to give that message to 'my artists and seekers'."

It is not my place to argue with people and their dreams, but I am fairly certain that this is not how translation works. A great scholar of Persian and Urdu literature, Christopher Shackle, describes Ladinsky's output as "not so much a paraphrase as a parody of the wondrously wrought style of the greatest master of Persian art-poetry." Another critic, Murat Nemet-Nejat, described Ladinsky's poems as what they are: original poems of Ladinsky masquerading as a "translation."

I want to give credit where credit is due: I do like Ladinsky's poetry. And they do contain mystical insights. Some of the statements that Ladinsky attributes to Hafez are, in fact, mystical truths that we hear from many different mystics. And he is indeed a gifted poet. See this line, for example:

I wish I could show you when you are lonely or in darkness the astonishing light of your own being.

That is good stuff. Powerful. And many mystics, including the 20th-century Sufi master Pir Vilayat, would cast his powerful glance at his students, stating that he would long for them to be able to see themselves and their own worth as he sees them. So yes, Ladinsky's poetry is mystical. And it is great poetry. So good that it is listed on Good Reads as the wisdom of "Hafez of Shiraz." The problem is, Hafez of Shiraz said nothing like that. Daniel Ladinsky of St Louis did. 

The poems are indeed beautiful. They are just not ... Hafez. They are ... Hafez-ish? Hafez-esque? So many of us wish that Ladinsky had just published his work under his own name, rather than appropriating Hafez's. 

Ladinsky's "translations" have been passed on by Oprah, the BBC, and others. Government officials have used them on occasions where they have wanted to include Persian speakers and Iranians. It is now part of the spiritual wisdom of the East shared in Western circles. Which is great for Ladinsky, but we are missing the chance to hear from the actual, real Hafez. And that is a shame.

So, who was the real Hafez (1315-1390)?

He was a Muslim, Persian-speaking sage whose collection of love poetry rivals only Mawlana Rumi in terms of its popularity and influence. Hafez's given name was Muhammad, and he was called Shams al-Din (The Sun of Religion). Hafez was his honorific because he had memorised the whole of the Quran. His poetry collection, the Divan, was referred to as Lesan al-Ghayb (the Tongue of the Unseen Realms).

A great scholar of Islam, the late Shahab Ahmed, referred to Hafez's Divan as: "the most widely-copied, widely-circulated, widely-read, widely-memorized, widely-recited, widely-invoked, and widely-proverbialized book of poetry in Islamic history." Even accounting for a slight debate, that gives some indication of his immense following. Hafez's poetry is considered the very epitome of Persian in the Ghazal tradition.

Hafez's worldview is inseparable from the world of Medieval Islam, the genre of Persian love poetry, and more. And yet he is deliciously impossible to pin down. He is a mystic, though he pokes fun at ostentatious mystics. His own name is "he who has committed the Quran to heart", yet he loathes religious hypocrisy. He shows his own piety while his poetry is filled with references to intoxication and wine that may be literal or may be symbolic.

The most sublime part of Hafez's poetry is its ambiguity. It is like a Rorschach psychological test in poetry. The mystics see it as a sign of their own yearning, and so do the wine-drinkers, and the anti-religious types. It is perhaps a futile exercise to impose one definitive meaning on Hafez. It would rob him of what makes him ... Hafez.

The tomb of Hafez in Shiraz, a magnificent city in Iran, is a popular pilgrimage site and the honeymoon destination of choice for many Iranian newlyweds. His poetry, alongside that of Rumi and Saadi, are main staples of vocalists in Iran to this day, including beautiful covers by leading maestros like Shahram Nazeri and Mohammadreza Shajarian.

Like many other Persian poets and mystics, the influence of Hafez extended far beyond contemporary Iran and can be felt wherever Persianate culture was a presence, including India and Pakistan, Central Asia, Afghanistan, and the Ottoman realms. Persian was the literary language par excellence from Bengal to Bosnia for almost a millennium, a reality that sadly has been buried under more recent nationalistic and linguistic barrages.

Part of what is going on here is what we also see, to a lesser extent, with Rumi: the voice and genius of the Persian speaking, Muslim, mystical, sensual sage of Shiraz are usurped and erased, and taken over by a white American with no connection to Hafez's Islam or Persian tradition. This is erasure and spiritual colonialism. Which is a shame, because Hafez's poetry deserves to be read worldwide alongside Shakespeare and Toni Morrison, Tagore and Whitman, Pablo Neruda and the real Rumi, Tao Te Ching and the Gita, Mahmoud Darwish, and the like.

In a 2013 interview, Ladinsky said of his poems published under the name of Hafez: "Is it Hafez or Danny? I don't know. Does it really matter?" I think it matters a great deal. There are larger issues of language, community, and power involved here.

It is not simply a matter of a translation dispute, nor of alternate models of translations. This is a matter of power, privilege and erasure. There is limited shelf space in any bookstore. Will we see the real Rumi, the real Hafez, or something appropriating their name? How did publishers publish books under the name of Hafez without having someone, anyone, with a modicum of familiarity check these purported translations against the original to see if there is a relationship? Was there anyone in the room when these decisions were made who was connected in a meaningful way to the communities who have lived through Hafez for centuries?

Hafez's poetry has not been sitting idly on a shelf gathering dust. It has been, and continues to be, the lifeline of the poetic and religious imagination of tens of millions of human beings. Hafez has something to say, and to sing, to the whole world, but bypassing these tens of millions who have kept Hafez in their heart as Hafez kept the Quran in his heart is tantamount to erasure and appropriation.

We live in an age where the president of the United States ran on an Islamophobic campaign of "Islam hates us" and establishing a cruel Muslim ban immediately upon taking office. As Edward Said and other theorists have reminded us, the world of culture is inseparable from the world of politics. So there is something sinister about keeping Muslims out of our borders while stealing their crown jewels and appropriating them not by translating them but simply as decor for poetry that bears no relationship to the original. Without equating the two, the dynamic here is reminiscent of white America's endless fascination with Black culture and music while continuing to perpetuate systems and institutions that leave Black folk unable to breathe.

There is one last element: It is indeed an act of violence to take the Islam out of Rumi and Hafez, as Ladinsky has done. It is another thing to take Rumi and Hafez out of Islam. That is a separate matter, and a mandate for Muslims to reimagine a faith that is steeped in the world of poetry, nuance, mercy, love, spirit, and beauty. Far from merely being content to criticise those who appropriate Muslim sages and erase Muslims' own presence in their legacy, it is also up to us to reimagine Islam where figures like Rumi and Hafez are central voices. This has been part of what many of feel called to, and are pursuing through initiatives like Illuminated Courses.

Oh, and one last thing: It is Haaaaafez, not Hafeeeeez. Please.

The views expressed in this article are the author's own and do not necessarily reflect Al Jazeera's editorial stance.

This content was originally published here.