#making them into the contradiction of what they originally were

[skipthisvoid]

Alrighty I am going to do my best to explain my thoughts on this-

What Arcane often does is take something that real-life that society is bigoted against and then show the humanity in those same people. This is a type of counter-narrative. This is when the story "presents a different perspective or interpretation of events that directly contradicts your existing beliefs, forcing you to re-evaluate your understanding of a situation or topic."

"They aim to disrupt established stories or viewpoints that might be considered biased or oppressive by offering alternative interpretations. Fields like critical race theory, feminist studies, and postcolonial studies frequently utilize counter-narratives to highlight marginalized perspectives."

(A key example is drug addicts, being set up in the first few episodes to align with the disgust society has for them, only later to twist your perspective around and make you feel like you were wrong. You end up feeling sympathy for them, which brings the watcher to have to rework their worldview for the rest of the show.)

The Undercity in routinely proven to be a place that has incredibly brilliant people, families just trying to get by, etc. but they just haven't been given the same opportunities as topside, so they turn to less desirable means of making a living. Within the series we are often given small pieces of daily life within the Undercity, especially the domestic moments, to make a connection that they are also just people.

Okay onto the brothel- The "goblin" in question is named Babette. We are given our initial "narrative" that she is gross, either because she is a sex worker, she is not a typical human, she is old, or all three. What happens later in the show is that it is revealed not only is Babette the mother of the house and is incredibly important to protecting those who work under her, she also knows the main character's father figure and looks up to him. It is implied there is mutual respect (an implication because at this point in the story, said father figure is dead and can not verbally confirm) between these two important people for the Undercity.

Once inside the brothel, it is shown to be like any other place of business. The workers are professional, the place is maintained well with all sorts of different options for people to pick from, (regardless of gender preference) and if clients treat workers inappropriately, they are thrown out. (Like during the scene in question.) So the first time we see this location, the narrative tells us "oh-ew gross we know that sex work is dirty and bad and the neighborhood is poor so these people are bad and gross" but later we have the counter-narrative of "actually this is a well respected and important part of the Undercity's economy, and the workers here are treated (and paid) well for the service they are providing."

SO when we come back to the original scene, we now align morally with the trans woman and Babette, and also think its funny that this man has gotten kicked out of a well respected establishment. He must have done something without realizing they take the rules seriously, and he won't be allowed back. Sucks since this place is the best in town!

Side note for the "look of disgust" coming from Claggor, the 'main' character mentioned above. Claggor is 14-16 years old. He isn't so much as disgusted as he is just shocked! He also is a very very shy and soft spoken boy. Being in the Undercity, and with Babette being friend's with his adoptive father, he knows what sex-work is. He is shy of it, he knows he is a minor. It is dark and not well lit, Babette might not be able to see him well so she smiles at him anyway. OR, since later in the show we find out she knows his father well, she is intentionally fucking with him knowing he is shy and is gonna be all weird about it. Either way, I wouldn't say he is reacting in disgust. He is just an awkward teen being awkward.

I am torn on the depiction of the transwoman. On one hand, I see how the art they used can be considered a bad stereotype. BUT I do also know someone who is doing the best they can with the body they currently have, and this is what she looks like! And thats also perfectly okay and fine! She exists, thats what she looks like at this point in her life, and she hasn't decided if she is going to make any further changes. (If she wants to speak more on this she can- I personally don't wanna go to deep into it on her behalf.) I think it is working as the same counter-narrative. We are shown this masculine woman who works in the sex industry, and feel the initial reaction society wants us to. Then later, we find out, oh shit, these workers are important and well respected! She is doing a good job for her current situation in the Undercity!

I feel like I am running out of things to say in this very moment but I DO want to also take a second to say we see a different portrayal of mtf transition later in the series. Her name is Lest. The difference here is that Lest is top-side, where there are a lot more opportunities and money. This is apparent in her ability to transition to what society considers "passing", as well as her clothing. She is also voiced by a trans woman! (Eve Lindley)

Blehg I just kinda wanted to spill some of my thoughts over this show since I adore its use of literary devices, ESPECIALLY the counter narrative. I hope this kinda made sense and didn't sound rude at all.

i just did something i promised myself i'd never do and intentionally watched a scene from Arcane, to see just how bad the transmisogynist joke in the first episode is -- and people are absolutely 100% playing it down.

the characters are walking through a dark, seedy part of a city, and reacting in fear to a bunch of scary, dangerous & unsettling things, like a monster scuttling in a cage & vendors selling huge knives, before panning to these two women standing outside a brothel.

the small gremlin lady makes a pass at one of the cast, who immediately reacts in visible fear and disgust and runs away. then, a drunk man wearing no pants is kicked out of the brothel, being told that he has to pay. the woman on the left responds (with a deep, masculine voice) "look at that" and reacts in disgust to him. the crux of the joke here is "haha it's rich that this gross tranny thinks this drunk man is gross, because SHE and her little gremlin friend are gross! lol!".

it is a transmisogynistic joke on the level of the ugly step-sister in Shrek. i shouldn't have to explain this. holy shit.

[thunderboltfire]

I have to say, Dragon Age games' Polish translation pretty much always make the jokes fall flat and has many faults, BUT-

The choice to translate "Knight Commander" title as "Komtur" is frankly genius. It's a very subtle localisation but it also works on a deeper level.

Komtur is a direct borrowing from german, and was a high rank among the teutonic knights. And while templars weren't too active in Poland and they are not very culturally significant in the area, the teutonic knights were a major political force in the region in the medieval times.

Here's where the subtler connotation comes in: in our historiography and culture the teutonic knights are unanimously remembered as a threat. They've had a record of rapidly installing themselves wherever they were called to and once they felt powerful enough, they've disregarded previous treaties and in practice became their own political entity. Profiting off a reputation of a hospitaliter order established during the crusades, once they've had their own land in Europe they didn't hesitate much to fight anyone to further their political goals. In our culture the teutonic knights are both a formidable figure of foreign terror and wolves in sheep's clothing, an organisation that, blinded by power, have lost sight of its original cause.

I love how, on a superficial level it's just a clever localisation, but also how well the cultural negative connotations fit the vision of what the templars would become, especially in DA2.

[wellzofyouth]

That one post of my mine predictably aged like fine wine. Never let somebody on comic twitter in the writer's room😭😭😭 Like imagine a 1 to 1 adaptation of literally any event?? -1b at the box office. "Who are these people???"

[autisticlee]

I don't understand why so many religious weirdos claim dinosaurs never existed and the bones/fossils dug out of the ground were buried under rock by scientists and then dug back out. it makes no sense at all. does their religion book tell them they were fake? is that what it is? because they seem to love letting some old mistranslated book dictate their entire life, thoughts, feelings, actions, etc. they even make up stuff the book supposedly says to excuse their behavior and justify horrible things, which makes them hypocrites for not actually following their book they claim tells them exactly how to live their lives that they must follow exactly or they will go to hell. but they sure like to pick and choose what they follow and make up new rules. but anyway, why do they hate dinosaurs lmao

[sokkastyles]

There is a difference between bitter about a break up and actively putting someone in danger because you're bitter. Also, "it was just a joke" seems to be the pattern of explaining every time Mai does or says something awful or can't be bothered to care about other people, and at some point, it stops mattering whether she actually cares or not if she can't treat people well.

Zuko left her a letter because he was in an abusive situation and that was the best way he could leave safely. And every discussion he has with Mai would have indicated to him that she wouldn't have listened anyway. Why on earth would Zuko bother having a conversation with her when the very first scene they have together is one where she says she didn't ask for his life story? I know, I know, it's "just a joke," but it's still shitty and it doesn't matter how much she really loves him on the inside. Those exact arguments are used to defend the way Azula and even Ozai treat Zuko.

It also doesn't really matter if she has a sad back story. That's not an excuse, and the show doesn't really bother to explain why she loves Zuko or how that motivates her. It also doesn't magically make her not a fascist, which was what my original statement was.

I also don't really believe she chose Zuko out of love so much as that she resented not being in a relationship with him and realized bullying him back into one wouldn't work. At least initially, because after she saves his life she does the exact same thing again. I would have believed that she actually cared about Zuko more if she were willing to sacrifice being in a relationship with him for the sake of not wanting to see him die. But then she comes back in the finale to "joke" about how he should never break up with her again. Which is an especially nasty thing to say considering that Zuko is an abuse survivor, but a nasty thing to say anyway to anyone even if it's a joke, and I think if atla were on television today they would rightly get torn to shreds for that line.

I also don't think her breaking up with him in the comics contradicts that, either. If anything, it reinforces that she only wants the relationship to exist on her terms. She also treats her new boyfriend similarly, saying that she likes that he cares about her more than she cares about him. I don't think she wants to have a relationship that she has to put work into.

And don't get me wrong, I don't give a shit about the comics and never said you had to treat them as canon. What I said was that Mai's awful characterization in them is consistent with how she is characterized in the show.

She's Zuko's girlfriend in the end, but Zuko didn't even remember that she was left in prison until the finale, and acts surprised that she's out. Right before he's about to be crowned as firelord. And then she has to demand to get back together with him. That's why she's his girlfriend. That scene is so nonsensical and stupid even if you take out the parts that are grossly offensive. The writers don't care about that relationship or developing it, or Mai as a character, and neither do I.

"I think Katara would get along with Azula/Mai because female solidarity!"

Cool. I think Katara would punch fascists in the throat.

[rizsu]

ㅤᡣ𐭩ㅤ◟ relationship deep-dive: what to expect. ── sukuna ryomen, gojo satoru, inumaki toge ﹕ jjk.

﹙ headcanons galore ﹚ ⊹ what to expect from them in a relationship — scenario & texts.

+ love ‘su: u can skip the mini scenarios n go straight for the smau ☝🏽 its just there for context !!

sukuna ryomen.

sukuna's favourite thing to do is telling you “no,” even when he means “yes.”

he'd openly reject your suggestions and requests, refute your opinions, or just outright say “no,” when in truth, he's making a mental note to get it done before dinner time.

showing affection in its purest form isn't his strong forte, and he's not working on it either. as much as he adores you, he dislikes having his brain wracked with colliding emotions.

to sukuna's fortune, his irritable personality lined up with your peculiar tastes, making him the man you've sought out and only found in dreamland.

strongly contradicting his exterior, sukuna thinks you're the cutest when you're sulking because he pulled out the infamous “no,” even though you were confident he'd agree this time.

you're the least fear-inducing person he's ever laid his eyes on. automatically, your attempts of using anger to persuade him backfires. this might just be his first time experiencing the so-called ‘cuteness aggression.’ he's only ever heard of it from you, but experiencing it first hand made him battle with himself to not crush your face between his palms — in the most romantic way possible.

gojo satoru.

arguments with satoru can vary based on two conditions: what his current mood is, and what the level of fuck up is. usually the arguments are lighthearted, or it doesn't last long. oftentimes he fuels it, too petty to accept defeat.

however, if they do last longer he puts his pride aside and goes (chases) after you. he's addicted to you — giving him permanent silent treatment is the same as taking away his oxygen! he's basically a dead man.

every time satoru owns up to his behaviour, he forgets that the old saying “what goes around, comes around.” once he accepted defeat, you copied his behaviour. this wasn't something he foreseen. getting a taste of his own mecidine did not feel lovely at all.

inumaki toge.

originally, you were just friends with inumaki. close friends at best — there weren't any mixed signals, slick comments, or hinting at something. just a calm friendship between you and him. somewhere down the lines, the friendship took a turn. for the worst? not quite. for the best? maybe.

it's not rare for two friends to gossip about their love life. texting inumaki after a failed attempt became a natural reflex for you. you were skeptical if he grew tired of it, but you also didn't care. as the male friend, he had no choice but to listen!

eventually failure after failure is bound to tire a person out completely, so why not ‘jokingly’ try with him? trial and error never hurts.

[markscherz]

I'm sorry... snake paper? Are things heating up in the snake researcher fandom?

16 February 2024: A team of researchers (including a generally well-respected anaconda expert) found minimal and partly contradictory genetic differences in green anacondas over an enormous area, summarily dismissed all previous work on the taxonomy of green anacondas, and gave the mitochondrial lineage concerned a new name, along the way making some huge fumbles that show plainly that they have no idea how taxonomy works or what certain technical terms mean. They published the work in a journal from a suspect publishing house that is known to rush, skip, or ignore peer review as and when it suits them. And apparently there was some suspicious funding involved, though I don’t know much about that. They made a media storm with ‘a new anaconda!’ but within minutes there were people raising huge red flags about the paper, for the reasons enumerated above and others.

The response from ‘the community’ has been swift and harsh, but mostly fair, in my view. The discussion on ResearchGate reflects this pretty well. There are some bad takes about keeping ‘wokism’ out of science; I would argue that it remains critical to incorporate native peoples, knowledge, and languages into taxonomic work—just not the way this was done, in flagrant and intentional conflict with the established methods and protocols. There are also responses in the discussion by the lead author that show that he is evidently impervious to all of this criticism, and stands by the belief that the work and taxonomic reasoning is sound.

19 March 2024: two papers were published simultaneously in Bionomia, that both enumerate and rebut the problems of the original paper. And I know there are more on the way, though I don’t know if they are all going to be completed now that two responses have already been published.

The one thing I would weigh in on from my perspective is that it is the *taxonomy*, and not necessarily the evidence presented in the paper, that is the biggest problem. Species are described based on mitochondrial data alone all the time. Some of the results are quite interesting. But the taxonomy of the paper is a mess, full of contradictions, cherry-picking, and terminological errors. In the hands of competent taxonomists, the work might have been much more difficult to dispute. But also, no competent taxonomist would have assigned a new name to this lineage; there are too many existing names that would have priority, if it is worth recognising.

Undoing public perception of there being a new anaconda species will take years, if it can ever really be achieved. Always easier for media stories to go around than corrections.

TL;DR big snake paper made big mistakes, and within a month was dismissed. It has probably done lasting damage to perception of anaconda diversity.

[hyperpotamianarch]

Well, the one part of the question I didn't answer yet is what isn't part of the Tanach. Which, while it's a group that contains a lot of books (Harry Potter and the Lord of the Rings aren't part of the Tanach, for example), we can still have a look at some books that potentially could enter but didn't. In addition, explaining why the Talmud isn't a part of the Tanach might also be helpful. So let us start talking about the codification and canonization of the Tanach!

Now, the codification of the Tanach, as in organizing the books that would enter and perhaps editing some of them, was a work done by Knesset HaGdolah - the Great Assembly of 120 Jewish rabbis and leaders that formed at the start of the 2nd Temple era, around 516 BCE (according to historians. There are some disagreement between them and traditional Jewish chronicles around this particular time frame). No decisive date can be put to the end of it, though. Some books that ended up in the Tanach were written around the early days of the Great Assembly - Ezra, for example - and the finalization of codifying and canonizing the Tanach likely happened some time after the books in it were written. It's likely that by the time Alexander the Great conquered the Land of Israel - around 332 BCE - there was a loose canon of texts, though I can't really say for certain. I would like to note, for example, that I've heard from Rav Aviah HaCohen that the book of Daniel contains words of Greek origin, indicating it has some degree of Hellenistic influence and thus was likely written when they controlled the land. From the perspective of a non-believer it also makes all the prophecies about the wars between the North and South kings more obviously about the Ptolemies and Seleucids. If it truly was written that late, it might well be the latest-written book of the Tanach.

Either way, there are evidence that by the time of the destruction of the 2nd Temple, the canon of the Tanach as we know it existed. It does not mean that it was undisputed - within the Pharisees, the 2nd Temple sect that gave rise to Rabbinic Judaism as we know it, there were still some disagreements about books that should be kept. Other sects (such as the Qumranites) wanted to add books, while yet others didn't accept the Tanach at all - the Samaritans still only consider the Torah as scripture, to this day. However, the Pharisees became the mainstream and thus based the canon.

So first, what disagreements were among the Pharisees? Well, for the most part, there were two books in dispute: Kohellet and Shir HaShirim. Now, there's also a disagreement regarding on which of them there was a dispute in the first place, which can get a little confusing. We'll just avoid that point for now and note that the problem with Kohellet was that it contradicted itself multiple times, and Shir HaShirim... well, it's kind of a romantic-erotic love song that doesn't exactly seem like it belongs in scripture, if we're being honest. However, both have stayed in canon - the Sages have explained the contradictions in Kohellet and Rabbi Akiva would have my head for suggesting the love song (commonly seen as a parable for G-d's love to the Israelites) doesn't belong in scripture. So that is that.

Now, another question that needs to be answered is what books could have entered, but didn't? There are many books that fit that title even if we only discuss Jewish religious books from that period (that aren't disqualified for reasons similar to the Talmud, elaboration on that later). To make things easier for me, I'm going to limit myself to talking about three particular books: the Book of Enoch, Ben Sirach and Maccabees. I could (and possibly should) stop here and not try explaining why they didn't enter the Tanach. However, if I had done that I could've just looked up a list of the Apocryphal book and paste it here. So, I'll attempt to get into the why. (In case you're wondering what apocryphal means, it appears the literal translation of the word is somewhere along the lines of dubious or inauthentic. In Hebrew those books are called Sefarim Ḥitzoniyim, meaning "outer books". Essentially - books that aren't a part of the Tanach's canon.)

The most problematic of these three is Ben Sirach. And I mean "problematic" in the sense it seems to have gotten the closest to entering. Ben Sirach is a book of proverbs and saying by a Jewish scholar, I think from Alexandria? Who wrote them around the time of the 2nd Temple. And this book is quoted in the Talmud a few times, with at least once that it's seemingly referred to as if it's a part of scripture. On the other hand, in the tractate of Sanhedrin (100B) Rav Yosef includes it among the books that reading in leads to exemption from having an afterlife. The weird part is that even he himself quotes from it a couple of lines later.

Well, a common explanation I've seen of that is that Rav Yosef there - as well as the Mishnah he comments on, which talks about Sefarim Ḥitzoniyim in general - don't actually mean one shouldn't read those at all. They merely mean that one shouldn't read it in the same way one reads scripture, and should remember it's not scripture. The reason Rashi gives to what the problem is with Ben Sirach is that it has some nonsensical or empty sayings (it's a little hard to translate, maybe it would be more accurate to say some of its sayings are rubbbish).

The Book of Enoch is an intersting one. It talks about the hierarchy of angels and the proper order of the world, from what I understand, and much of the lore in it is accepted as canon by both Christians and Jews (I think, though I didn't read the book). However, only one existing group in the world has it in their canonical Bible and those are Ethipean Christians. Well, I might be wrong - it could be that the Assyrian church also has it, as while modern editions lean heavily on the Ethipean version they still have other sources to lean on. Either way, this book - likely written during the Hellenistic period in the Land of Israel - is not a part of the canon of the Tanach. Why? I don't really know. Maybe the attribution of the book to such an old figure didn't sit well with the rabbis working on the canonization. Maybe they didn't believe it was written with any divine inspiration. Maybe it was written too late into the Hellenistic period, at a time when the canon was already set. Either way, it didn't get in, leaving Daniel as the only book in the Tanach that gives angels names.

Now, regarding the Book of Maccabees: there are actually four of them. I really don't want to get into all of them, so I'm going to focus on the first - which was likely written the closest to the actual Hasmonean rebellion, by someone who may have participated in it, and in Hebrew. And it still didn't get into the Tanach, though it gives much-needed context to the holiday of Hannukah. Why is that? Well, the most likely answer is that it wasn't written with divine inspiration. It's not something easily provable, and for a non-believer it's not going to mean much, so to rephrase - the people who canonized the Tanach didn't think it was divinely inspired. It just seemed like a chronicle of a war that was written after the prophecy was gone from among the Jews. Without prophecy, this book wasn't deemed a legitimate addition to canon and thus remained outside.

There are quite a few more books that didn't enter but you may have heard of - the book of Judith, the book of Jubilees, and many others. I have written a list in the first post of all the books in the Tanach - if it's not one of those, it's not inside. Usually under the assumption it wasn't written with Divine inspiration.

So, what about the Talmud? I am aware that you didn't ask this question. The Talmud is known to not be a part of the Tanach. But why is that? If it's a Jewish religious book, shouldn't it be included in the collection of our scripture? Well, to explain that we need to explain about the Oral Torah. This post is long enough as it is, however, so I'll try to keep it brief.

Basically, Orthodox tradition has it that Moshe got two Torahs on mount Sinai: one Written and one Oral, with the Oral one explaining the Written one and getting into the finer details of the law. Conservative Jews consider the Oral Torah to be a later addition by the Great Assembly, I think - if a Conservative JEw in the audience knows otherwise please do correct me. Its role doesn't change, however: it's always to explain the Written Torah, add some prohibitions to help avoid doing anything forbidden, and such things. The Oral Torah was codified into the Mishnah by Rabbi Yehudah HaNasi around the 2nd century CE, including in it various discussions and disagreements on details of the law. A couple of centuries later, a series of discussions and interpretations on the Mishnah were codified in the Talmud. In addition to these two books, the various Midrashim can probably also be considered a part of the Oral Torah.

You might notice I used the word "codify" and not "write". Even if you didn't, well, you should know that there's a reason for that: the Oral Torah truly is Oral, or at least was. It's very different in nature and purpose from the Written Torah and the Tanach. And that is why the Talmud isn't a part of the Tanach - because it's a part of the complex collection of interpretations on it.

I hope this was helpful! Thank you for asking (and for reading that), and have a good day! If you had trouble understanding something I wrote here, please don't hesitate to ask!

Secular jew here with a really stupid question about the tanach

What exactly constitutes the tanach? I think I've heard it's an acronym, so would the Torah be the t? what's the rest of the acronym? Which writings does it include? I'm pretty sure the talmud isn't part of it, what else isn't? Apologies if this is too basic of a question for you!

Hello! Thank you for the question!

The Torah indeed is the first part of the Tanach. Tanach is an acronym for the Hebrew words Torah, Nevi'im and Ketuvim. Roughly translated, those titles mean "Instructions", "Prophets" and "Writings", respectively. The Tanach, then, consists of 24 books divided into those three categories.

The Torah is the easiest one to define: it's the Pentateuch, the Five Books of Moses, however else you choose to call them, and they are generally known to be set apart. The books in it are Bereshit (Genesis), Shemot (Exodus), Vayikra (Leviticus), B'midbar (Numbers) and Devarim (Deuteronomy). Those are the books traditionally given to Moshe directly by G-d, and mostly focus on the formation of the Israelite people and its time under his leadership. It also includes all the commandments, basically.

Nevi'im are supposedly the books written by prophets, and half the books there are specifically books of prophecy (which is more messages from G-d than necessarily predicting the future). However, the first four books - Joshua, Judges, Samuel and Kings - are more historical in nature, chronicling the events from Moshe's death to the destruction of the 1st Temple. The last four books - Isaiah, Jeremaiah, Ezkiel and the Twelve prophets - are primarily books of prophecies and visions, with some stories sprinked in between. Most of them are concurrent with events in the book of Kings - except for the last three of the Twelve Prophets, who have lived around the building of the 2nd Temple. The Twelve Prophets are (by this order): Hosea, Joel, Amos, Obadiah, Jonah, Michah, Naḥum, Ḥabakuk, Zephaniah, Ḥaggai, Zacharias and Malachi. Names are written more or less in their traditional English spelling.

Then we get to the Ketuvim, Written texts, which are... a little more vague. It's hard to say if there's a uniting theme. A couple are books of parables and songs are there, yet others are more chronicles of events, either ones that occured after the time of the book of Kings, before it or concurrently with it. A common assumption is that the difference between those and the Nevi'im is the level of prophecy in writing them - where the Nevi'im were written under direct prophecies, while the Ketuvim were only written in Ruach HaKodesh (roughly translated as "the holy spirit", but I don't want to cause any confusion with Christianity). Either way, the books in the Ketuvim are, in order: Tehilim (Psalms), Mishley (Proverbs), 'Iyov (Job), Shir HaShirim (the Song o Songs/the Songs of Solomon), Rut (or Ruth), Eichah (Lamentations), Kohellet (Ecclesiastes), Ester (or Esther), Daniel, Ezra (and Neḥemiah) and Divrey HaYamim (Chronicles).

If you count, you'll find there are 5 books in the Torah, 8 in the Nevi'im and 11 in the Ketuvim - 24 in total. Ther Twelve Prophets, known as Trei Asar (which just means twelve), are considered one book, The division of Samuel, Kings, Ezra and Chronicles into two books each is relatively late and only makes sense in Ezra due to the obvious PoV shift. Which kind of reminds me, maybe a brief explanation is required as to what each of those last 11 books is.

Tehilim is a book of prayers and religious poems, traditionally written by King David (though they were probably collected long after his time). Mishley is the proverbs of king Shelomo (Solomon), some of which were definitely written long after his time (as in, it's directly stated inside the book). 'Iyov is possibly a parable, possibly a real story which serves as a background to a conversation on the problem of evil that doesn't seem to be solved within the book. The five books from Shir HaShirim to Esther are considered the Five Scrolls, but actually share very little in common: Shir HaShirim is a love song that sometimes become rather erotic, written by King Solomon. Ruth is an origin story to King David's family that occurs during the Judges period, and is about his Great-Grandmother and her conversion to Judaism (she was from Moab, which was a neighboring nation). Eichah is a book lamenting the destruction of the 1st Temple and of the Kingdom of Judea, traditionally written by Jeremiah. Kohellet is a philosophical book pondering the meaning of life - it either finds none or finds solace in faith, depending who you ask - also said to have been written by King Solomon. Esther is famously about the first organised Pogrom in recorded history - one against the Jews of the Persian empire, occuring during the Babylonian exile in Persia. Daniel is about the vision of a Jewish slave in the court of Nebuchadnezzar, who somehow succeeds to stay in a position of power after multiple switches in the government. The story of Daniel isn't half as interesting as his weird visions, though. Ezra is about the rebuilding of the Temple and Jerusalem after the return from exile, more or less - Ezra and Neḥemiah are the major leaders of this time period. This is pretty much a chronicling book - as is the last one, appropriately called Chronicles (Divrey HaYamim). That one basically attempts to sum up everything that happened to the Jewish people throughout history until the building of the 2nd Temple.

I've already written a lot and am too tired to explain why those books were codified and others weren't, so I'll just leave it at that for now.

[voicewave]

whenever I watch older MCU movies (like phases 1-3) I get a little sad knowing that the newer movies will never give off those vibes that the older MCU had

[mariasont]

Training Day - A.H

a/n: you all wanted more bimbo!assistant!reader and i'm a woman of the people so here we are

on a real note i love her and she is my queen

masterlist

pairings: aaron hotchner x bimbo!assistant!reader

summary: you don't understand why hotch is giving you training lessons, but apparently he thinks you need it

warnings: talking about men following her in public YUCK, hotch trying to train reader, reader not knowing what's going on, cuties being cute

wc: 0.8k

"I still don't really know why we're doing this."

You were grumbling more than was characteristic for you, with every part of your body, your arms, your legs, and even your ass, suffering from a dull ache--sadly, not the result of any enjoyable pastime. After being knocked over more times than you cared to count, Hotch extended his hand toward you. You gladly took it, letting him pull you to your feet.

Your fingers deftly pulled at your pink tracksuit top over the sliver of abdomen that that had been revealed in your less-than-graceful take down. Hotch had pointed out the impracticality of your outfit when you showed up, but you stood firm on the principle that if early training sessions were expected of you, then your attire would be non-negotiable.

"Because I want to be confident in your abilities to defend yourself." His arms folded over his chest as his gaze bore into you, challenging you to contradict him.

"I'm just here to look pretty and answer your phones, crime-fighting isn't in my job description. That's your thing, Mr."

You shuffled back to your original position anyway, hands coming up to shield your face as you mentally sorted through the steps, or at least tried to, struggling to recall the correct foot placement.

"Shoulder width apart."

It's like he could read your mind. You were not entirely convinced that he couldn't.

"Crime-fighting doesn't have to be your thing," Hotch stated, narrowing the gap between you, his hands firmly correcting your stance. You sometimes found an excuse to stand just so, hoping he would step in to manhandle you into place. "But being part of the BAU, even peripherally, means you're not immune to risks. I need to know you can handle yourself... for my piece of mind."

"Sir, is this like, your super-secret way of showing you care?"

Your lips twisted into a half-smile as his hands clasped your waist a little tighter than necessary: a warning that said you were playing with fire. His fingers then moved to direct yours, positioning them closer to your face, his knuckles lightly grazing across your cheek in the process.

"Eyes on me, stay focused."

"My eyes are always on you, sir," you say, your head canting to one side. 

He released a controlled breath, giving you a level look that signaling you were pushing it. Nevertheless, you flashed him a beaming smile and initiated the move he had been drilling into you. The tip of your elbow made contact with the soft of his stomach.

He issued a muted groan as he intercepted your arm, preventing it from digging further, and in a fluid motion he spun you around, pinning your backside to his front.

"That was perfect, right?" you squealed, your fist shooting up in victory.

The sudden jump caused his hands to shift from your arm, finding a new perch on your hips to steady your... enthusiastic bounce.

You whirled in his grasp, the proximity sending a faint hum through his chest. Clearing his throat, he managed. "Yes, uh, that was it."

Clutching his shirt, the fabric crumpled beneath your purple-tipped fingers, you giggled. "Just imagine someone trying to follow me to my car now. They wouldn't know what hit 'em!"

"Is that a common occurrence?" The lines of his face gathered into that customary look of concern, that characteristic frown of his making an appearance.

He gently disentangled your hands from his shirt, not letting go, but rather laying his atop of yours.

"Well, sometimes, but I usually just call Morgan, put him on speaker, and he starts talking about the FBI stuff," you explained, giving a light shrug that nudged the zipper of your jacket down just a smidge. "They take off after that."

He clenched his eyes shut, pausing momentarily before reopening it. One hand let go of yours to adjust the zipper back to its proper position.

"That makes my stomach hurt." And it did. "Don't hesitate to call me when that happens. I'll come get you."

Your smile stretched ear to ear, potent enough to make him feel lightheaded. "You know, with all these trainings, who needs to call for help?"

"How about we compromise, and you still call me, regardless?"

You pout your lips, shiny with clear gloss rather than your usual pink. "That sounds less like a compromise and more like a you thing, ya know?"

Hotch's laughter rumbled from his chest, a warm, breathy sound, as he let go of your hands, which he realized he had been holding far longer than appropriate, and guided you to the door.

"You don't appreciate the added precautions I'm willing to take for your safety?"

Dragging your sneaker on the floor, you plucked your bag from the wall as Hotch closed the door behind you. "Gee, when you say it like that..."

When you walked down the hall you seemed to be perfectly in step.

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[velvetvexations]

I'm a trans woman. You need to stop being weird about men.

The idea that trans women should be allowed in single sex spaces for cis women is completely contradicted by the man vs. bear discourse. Ignore that I keep going back to the meme - maybe it's still doing numbers, I don't know, but it's good shorthand either way. If you think men are inherently suspicious and dangerous, ask yourself: why does that not apply to trans women?

What, exactly, does a trans woman do to make herself different from cis men? How are you not advocating a belief in people being tainted by the way they were raised* which can only logically apply to trans women as much as it does cis men? It boggles the mind how, if that's a true concept, one could simply self-identify out it. Yet, the way transradfems talk, literally the only thing that distinguishes an AMAB better-than-bear from an AMAB worse-than-bear is that the former says they're totally better than a bear and you should take their word for it, which if men are really Like That should be of little comfort or security.

Some, even, will make impassioned defenses of butch trans women, which as a butch trans woman is great. But then they'll go on about how evil men are, and how innocent and victimized trans women are, and I wonder, what, exactly, differs an especially butch trans woman from a man to them? If, like me, a trans butch woman doesn't always wear clearly feminine clothes, has body hair, maybe even a shade of facial hair, and doesn't at all try to train her voice, are you going to be uncomfortable with her right up until she realizes she forgot to put their pin on and you see the she/her? Apparently that flips the switch from someone you desperately don't want to be alone with to someone you're totally fine undressing in front of?

All that sounds like TERFism, which is exactly the problem. The transradfem version of reality is one where TERF talking points are completely logical, because they're both based in the same radfem reality. That's not my reality, YOU have constructed a system perfect for them to operate in, that their ideology is fantastic for pointing out errors of reasoning in, as if it was deliberately crafted by them to be deconstructed. I would not at all be surprised if that's the origin of a lot of trans radical feminism, a psyop to make the trans community weaker with logic twists that TERFism can swing through like the Gordian Knot.

If you accept man vs. bear, TERFism is the only logical conclusion. If you don't, as I don't, then it isn't.

The only alternative is that you think being a woman is the only thing anyone should be and "choosing" to be a man is morally inferior. Which I shouldn't have to tell you is horrifying. It's also again incongruous with at least your defense of butch trans women - what exactly defines a "man" and a "woman" when a butch trans woman doesn't have to try to pass at all? You are literally saying all of this, gender, transmisogyny, misogyny, hinges entirely on pronouns and a difference of two letters in the name of what they call themselves, someone is dangerous or not depending on if they go by he/him.

TERFs will see this and be like "yeah! exactly!" BUT MY POINT IS USING THAT TO SHOW YOU SHARE THE SAME FOUNDATIONAL LOGIC AS THEM. If you don't want TERFs to have a point then you can stop accepting their worldview any day now! Come join me and frolic freely where we think TERFs are wrong!

*socialization is real and the idea pre-dates TERFs who incorrectly use the idea that to say that because a trans woman may or may not** have been pressured by external forces to play sportsball she must be hardcoded to be a sex offender, which is completely ridiculous

**no one can be said to have the same experiences, it's a generalization

[imhoser]

One of the most important life lessons you could learn from this moment is that people will not uphold social rules when to them, you’ve already disobeyed the rule in principle. And by principle I mean in the way you’ve structured your argument.

Saying cis women are the equivalent to cis men is wrong in principle, not by argument structure, but in regard to logical reasoning. It’s especially indicative of the tunnel vision you’ve acquired when to the cis women you’re trying to critique here…you are one as well. There is no “trans” or “cis” to me. You saying “well I don’t believe this” doesn’t change the fact that I do believe this.

For example, someone saying they believe in the flat earth is useless if that person is trying to prove that the earth isn’t spherical. It serves no purpose. You stating what you believe is true will not convince me. You have to go beneath the argument and try to argue your point through logical principles, aka logical rules. My logical rule is simple: what is done to a human body does not negate the fact that was not who they were originally. Plastic surgery doesn’t change chromosomes, its results are not heritable.

There’s another term for misogyny, it’s called sexism. The prefix “sex” wasn’t just added in for fun. It was a word meant to describe the categorization and subjugation of females on the basis of their sex. You believing that it isn’t real doesn’t mean anything to me. And yes, you cannot believe sexism is real while saying that women are not oppressed based on their sex. You can’t have it both ways. Misogyny is sex based. This is exactly how all transwomen benefit from privilege until, supposedly, they transition. But to me I define it with a different term, the word is homophobia. The hatred of effeminate men is innately tied to homophobia and that is a better explanation.

After all, the murder of transwomen often occurs when their murderer feels angst about him apparently being gay for having sex with them. How could transphobia be the problem in that scenario when it was the possibility of him being gay is what set him off? Because apparently, in your world, if that transwoman is truly a woman, then the murder only occurs out of a delusion, where the murderer denies reality. But nobody frames it in that way…because the argument doesn’t work, because we all subconsciously recognize what transwomen are despite all the moral flagellation that people partake in to deny reality.

This is why you will fail to convince me. It’s because one, I already know your arguments, and two, I have alternate explanations for the things that you believe will contradict my belief system. But it doesn’t. I just believe in different methods of reasoning.

You should be happy that someone is telling you this now. This is something that would’ve made my life much easier if I heard it when I was a teenager. Being able to understand why someone believes so and so is the first step in countering their arguments. But TRAs fail in this because their movement works by isolating themselves from their critics, saying that any critique is bigotry, but that is not a law of physics. The fact that people adhere to that principle, isolating themselves from people who disagree with them as if it’s a law of reality that those people are just “bigoted,” should be enough to raise some red flags.

And final thing, moralizing doesn’t work on me. You won’t make me feel bad. I feel no guilt.

A cis woman is not any better or worse than a cis man,

stop pretending otherwise.

Stop trying to convince me that I'm somehow in community with you because your a vaginagirl or a fucking bleeder,

I don't care--whatever silly thing you use to define your womanhood.

I am not a part of your 'sex class',

we are not a community.

I am not your sister.

[metalhoops]

‘Of course, I remember you.’ 

As far as first words go, Eddie’s were a hell of a head-scratcher. 

To catch up the uninitiated, everyone in the world has a soulmate. It’s been debated and speculated if a person can have more than one, but the mechanics behind soulmates was a pseudo-science at best and downright magic at worst. The first words a person’s soulmate spoke to them were inscribed somewhere on that person’s body, typically in their soulmate’s handwriting. 

Doesn’t handwriting change over time? The uninitiated might ask, to which Eddie would repeat, it’s pseudo-science or magic. Either that or something like quantum mechanics, where people are pretty sure, one day we’ll understand how it works, but right now there are a lot of theories and only a little bit of evidence, most of which contradicts itself.

Most of the time, the words are boring and wholly unhelpful. He could count on two hands the number of people that simply had some variation of ‘hello’, tattooed somewhere on their body. From Eddie’s point of view, he got lucky. 

He had a sentence of scratchy scrawl written on his inner arm stating, ‘of course, I remember you’. And really, what the hell was Eddie meant to make of that? 

Typically, your tattoo lets you know you’d found your soulmate upon first meeting, but his words implied he’d meet his soulmate before they first speak and that it would be memorable. Wasn’t that goddamn frustrating? 

His soulmate’s first words were right up there with ‘hello’ in Eddie’s list of ‘top five worse soulmate marks,’ because how the hell were those poor bastards meant to know if they’d just met the love of their life or if it was just their weird neighbour Tom? With his number one spot reserved for Gareth’s truly horrific, ‘I’d thought you’d be taller’. His soulmate was original. He’d give him that. 

There was no surefire way to know your soulmate’s gender, same as there was no surefire way for a mother to ‘just know’ a baby’s gender before it was born. Yet if Eddie was being sacrilegious, as he so often was, he’d say he ‘just knew’ his soulmate was a guy. 

There was nothing in the handwriting that gave it away. Nothing particularly ‘feminine’ or ‘masculine’ about the lettering. But ever since Eddie was a kid whenever he thought about his soulmate, he’d always think of them as ‘him’. 

He would like this or that. He wouldn’t be an asshole, like the meathead jocks at Hawkins. He would be different. He’d be kind, caring, and of course, a total badass. Eddie just had to wait to meet him. 

Steve’s soulmate mark drove him crazy. 

‘You might not remember me’. 

What the hell was Steve meant to do with that? Soulmate tattoos were meant to let you know when you’d met your soulmate, not that you’d already met them. In the days before Steve received the shake-up of his life in the form of Nancy Wheeler and the Upside Down, he had a reputation for sleeping around. He knew back then he’d been a little hopeless, but surely he’d said more than a couple of words to a girl before he slept with them. 

It horrified Steve that he could meet his soulmate, in some respect, know them, and yet had never talked to them. Could he really be that much of a jerk?

He’d never thought Nancy was his soulmate. He knew their words didn’t match up. That didn’t mean he loved her any less. Statistically, the odds of meeting your soulmate were somewhere between getting crushed by a vending machine and winning the lottery. Steve’s parents weren’t soulmates and boy did that show, but a guy could dream. Call him a hopeless romantic, but Steve was holding out hope for them. 

He’d almost thought his soulmate was Robin. It fit, right? They went to the same school, but they’d never really talked. He’d been so busy with his first day at a real job, he’d missed Robin’s first words to him. It wasn’t until later he’d started to expect it might be her. That was, until the pair were huddled beside each other on the floor of a bathroom stall. Robin was a lesbian and her first words, although interesting, definitely proved they weren’t soulmates. 

When Steve was a kid, he’d spend hours daydreaming about what his soulmate would be like. She’d be outspoken. She’d be bold. She’d be able to make him laugh. When he’d gotten older, something changed. He didn’t know how to put it into words, at least not ones he was ready to say out loud. ‘She’ didn’t fit his soulmate quite right. So after high school, he started wondering what ‘they’ would be like. ‘They’ felt not quite right, but closer. 

Their handwriting was distinct. It was all sharp-edges and odd-angles. It looked like it was trying to replicate something Steve couldn’t quite place until he walked into the record store at Starcourt and caught a glimpse of an Iron Maiden album cover. That gave Steve his first real clue as to what his soulmate might be like. 

It would be another year before the same handwriting would stop him in his tracks. Dustin had marched into the Family Video store as they were shutting up shop, brandishing a notepad and talking about needing a ride to go play his fantasy game. Steve was always going to drive Dustin, but he’d been dragging his feet, to show the kid he wouldn’t always drop everything to take him places. A familiar sharp edged, odd angled handwriting stopped Steve cold. 

“What are those?” Steve asked, trying to fain disinterest as his heart pounded in his ears. 

“They’re notes from the last session. You know, so we can keep track of what’s happened so far in the campaign. Who’s doing what quests, how many hit points everyone’s got. Mike is currently—.” Steve couldn’t give a crap about Mike. 

“Who’s writing is it?” Steve tried not to sound as desperate as he felt. 

Robin must have known something was up because she moved to Steve’s side. With one glance at the notepad, she understood why Steve was acting so strangely. She’d seen his tattoo, she knew it was his soulmate’s handwriting. 

“Our D.M.’s” Dustin replied. He might as well have been speaking in freaking code. 

“Alright, I’ll drive you,” Steve gave in, hoping he could catch a glance of his soulmate. Maybe his tattoo was wrong, maybe he’d know his soulmate when he saw them. 

They pulled up outside of the high school. He saw a group of people loitering outside the auditorium. Dustin had brought a lot of loose sheets of paper, so it only made sense Steve helped him carry his notebooks in. Most of the people there were familiar faces, the kids he’d babysat with a few exceptions. 

“Well, if it isn’t our favourite bard. I’m glad you decided to grace us with your presence,” an oh-too-familiar voice crooned. A boy broke away from the crowd to meet Dustin. 

He was Steve’s age. They’d gone to school together. The dude used to do all these weird soap-box sessions on their lunch table. They had gym together, and history. Steve didn’t think the two had ever actually spoken.  

“I would’ve been here quicker if I hadn’t had to play twenty questions with Steve. Steve, you know Eddie, our D.M.? Weren’t you two in the same year?” 

Eddie was practically shooting daggers at Dustin’s side profile, shaking his head discreetly as though hoping Steve didn’t remember who he was. He supposed Eddie always had a reputation. 

“You might not remember me,” Eddie spoke before Steve could answer. 

Holy shit.

“Of course, I remember you,” Steve argued and watched as Eddie’s eyes swelled to the size of dinner plates. 

Both boys stood, slack-jawed and stiff-shouldered, peering at one another. Steve’s brain short-circuited, because holy shit, Eddie Munson was his soulmate. Holy shit he’d found them, him. 

Steve dropped Dustin’s notes and swarmed forward without thinking, throwing his arms around Eddie. Much to his surprise, instead of freaking out, like any normal person, Eddie was waiting to catch him, leaving both of them to tumble ass backwards onto the parking lot asphalt.

They held each other in a bone-crushing hug. Steve buried his face in Eddie’s neck, surprised at how naturally the action came. He’d never hugged a man like this, hell he’d hugged no one like this. He was clinging so desperately to the man that he’d never thought he’d really find. Eddie pulled back slightly, trying to get a better look at Steve’s face. The guy’s eyes were alight with wonder and mischief. 

“That was quite an entrance, Harrington. All for little old me?” 

“I’ve been looking for you forever,” Steve admitted. 

“Well, clearly you’ve been doing a shit job of it,” Eddie argued which earned a snort from Steve. His soulmate would be able to make him laugh. 

“You’re not disappointed, you know? That your soulmate is the town Freak?” 

Steve had given up on caring about labels, on caring about what other people thought. Since high school, he had changed. He was different.  He didn’t want to be just another, shallow, meathead jock. He wanted to be different. 

“No. Absolutely not. Why would I care?” 

Dustin shattered the moment, clearing his throat and proclaiming,

“Alright, anyone care to tell me what the hell just happened?” 

[lilywastaken]

— Simon helps reader with getting ready.

> This blurb is part of my series — MÉNAGE !

CW: Talks of poor body image, stretch marks, scars.

"'Necklace looks nice."

"You think?" You mumbled, staring at yourself in the mirror as you clipped the back. "It's weird, dressing up."

After all, it'd been a long time since you'd spent so long on your makeup or appearance, having given up mostly on cosmetics ever since you became a mother. Which made you all the more excited to do your makeup again, properly, not just the curling and mascara or gloss you'd rush when going out, a full-face of makeup, even if it was just for drinks with a few friends.

"Goes with the dress." Simon offered after a moment of silence, clearly having gone quiet in hopes of coming up with a compliment that didn't sound so bland, but said what he'd originally thought at the beginning as bland as it was, not knowing much about fashion.

"Yeah, I suppose." You snorted, looking down at the short skirt of the dress and trying to pull it down slightly to cover some of the stretch marks that threatened to show. "...maybe I should wear tights or something."

"Why?" Simon grunted, turning to look at you from his spot on your bed, Tommy rolling around in a few blankets next to him, playing with some of his father's fingers. "'S not going to be cold tonight."

"Yeah, but…" you pushed yourself out of your chair, turning around to show yourself to the blond, letting his eyes scan your body from head to toe, lingering slightly on the cleavage showing thanks to the low cut. "Look."

"I am."

"No! Here!" Your hands came down to rest on your thighs, bringing his attention to the plush parts of your legs. "They look ugly."

"What?" He furrowed his eyebrows, scanning your skin in hopes of finding what you had deemed "ugly", findinging nothing. "What looks ugly?"

"The scars!" You whined, hands landing on your stomach and prodding at your tummy. "I mean… I got them after Tommy, they're all over my body, they kind of just… don't look good."

Simon outstretched a hand out to you, bringing you closer to the bed when you immediately took it, helping you kneel down on the mattress and collapse against his side, snuggling into his warmth as his arms enveloped you.

"I think they look good, lovie." He mumbled against the top of your head, his thumb rubbing comforting circles into your arm. "'Reminder of what you did. Of what you made. 'Bit corny, but it's true."

"I know… it's just… Weird. I don't know how to explain it, Si…" you sighed, running your own fingers over his covered chest.

"If you don't feel comfortable showing them, there's no shame in covering up. Not going to try and force you to go out like that if you don't want to. Just remember you don't have to feel disgusted by them." He leaned down to press a kiss to your forehead, making sure to avoid your makeup in hopes of not ruining it.

"Yeah… I guess." You mumbled, closing your eyes to savour the feeling of his lips against your skin. "Just… nervous... Maybe I should just stay-"

"No. C'mon." Simon grunted, grabbing you by the hips and pushing you up and off the bed, leaning back against the array of pillows behind him. "You promised them."

"You really want me to go, huh?" You sighed, letting a cheeky smile pull at your lips as he looked down at you with an arched brow, trying to figure out if you were being serious with your accusation or not. But when he did, he let out a huff, rolling his eyes before squeezing you tighter, making you let out a string of giggles.

"Yeah. Fuckin' hate your guts. Been waiting for you to leave forever." He mumbled, contradicting his teasing words as he continued to press kisses against your face, relishing in the way your nose scrunched up and your eyes shone when he leaned back to gaze into them. "Go on then. Get on with it."

"Yeah, yeah." You laughed, rolling your eyes at him before slapping at his chest playfully, batting your eyelashes at him. "Hate you too, Si."

[cobrakaisb]

humid summer

summary: summer rolls around, and for the first time in two years you find yourself outside the borders of camp half-blood but how long can you keep pretending to be a normal cruise guest on the princess andromeda?

featuring: BOOK SPOILERS (from here on out), multiple povs (reader, percy, and annabeth), plus more of reader and annabeth’s relationship, oh also angst

word count: 2.7k

series masterlist ||| previous ||| next

the summer heat combined with the florida humidity is stifling. you feel like you’re boiling in a pot of soup, as opposed to lounging on the pool deck of a cruise ship. even the ocean breeze does little to quell the heat. you almost feel bad for the other demigods — who you know are training on a deck somewhere on the princess andromeda — but you can’t bring yourself to that point. not when you, chris, and katrina offered for them to ditch too. 

“how long do you plan on tanning for?” someone asks, and you recognize the voice as your boyfriend’s.

“until the sun goes down,” you answer, holding a hand up to your forehead as you give him a once over. 

it is obvious that he hasn’t been training, not in khaki pants and a light blue polo, but he still has his sword hanging from a sheath around his waist. his arms are crossed over his chest, and he shoots you a disapproving glare. yet, all you can focus on are his muscles.

“you’re gonna get a farmer's tan, dude,” chris jeers, eliciting snickers from you and katrina.

“oh you’d like that wouldn’t you?” katrina teases, elbowing your side as you get up from your lounger and walk towards luke. 

you lift up your shades, pushing them to the top of your head and smile softly at him. you’re trying your best to be apologetic, or at least seem apologetic, but you’re sure it isn’t working. your eyes flicker across luke’s supposedly serious gaze, but you can see the humor swirling in his eyes. 

“you’re not mad are you? we were really just taking a break,” you explain, a soft pout on your lips to try and sell your story. 

luke raises an eyebrow along with the corner of his mouth, and while you know he doesn’t believe you, he doesn’t provide a lecture or try to contradict your words. it’s clear to all the demigods on the princess andromeda that while you’ve aligned yourself with them — with his cause — your loyalties lie in the palm of his hands, a sentiment which isn’t lost on luke either. he has the ability to cradle it or squash it like a bug. there is no inbetween. yet, he continues to push his luck. 

even now as you laugh poolside with chris and katrina with his firm hand resting on your hip, he knows that you’d slip away from him if you knew what was going on in the brig. if you knew who was there and what he’d done to lure them right into his clutches, you’d flee. 

he clears his throat, demanding your attention. only when all three pairs of eyes are on him does he muster up the courage to actually be a leader: “i better see the three of you at training later, otherwise you can kiss those free nights goodbye.”

luke squeezes your hip once more before departing, walking back down the hallway he originally came from.  

*****

the continuous rocking back and forth is starting to get to percy. with each sway of the large cruise ship, he can feel the insides of his stomach turning. the sounds of the waves crashing against the strong hull should be calming, soothing even, yet they only increase his feelings of nausea. 

“don’t tell me you’re seasick, seaweed brain?” annabeth snaps, but there is a hint of sympathy behind her cold words. 

“ugh as if,” he answers, but promptly squints his eyes after a particularly large jolt.

“i knew this was too good to be true,” he mumbles, leaning his sweaty forehead against the cool metal bars in hope of some relief. 

“it wouldn’t be if you’d just accepted my offer. it’d make things a lot easier for the both of us,” another voice chimes in. 

percy opens his eyes, immediately reaching for the ballpoint pen residing in his pocket. he can’t help but stare at the older boy, the person he once called a friend, with nothing but resentment and hatred. luke is leaning casually against the wall across from their holding cell. his arms are crossed, sword sheathed, and he looks like he has all the time in the world. there even seems to be a flicker of annoyance in his brown eyes. 

“we both know things could be much easier. right percy?” luke continues, but he doesn’t make any moves or even reach for his sword. 

“what are you doing here?” percy asks, mustering up enough strength to stand from the floor of their cell. 

luke chuckles, shaking his head back and forth with a small tsk. “c’mon percy, you’re smarter than that. i bet even annabeth has this figured out. isn’t that right banana?” 

“don’t call me that,” annabeth growls, fists clenched at her sides. 

percy watches their interaction, an intense stare down. he’s only even seen luke partake in one, and he remembers how luke was the first to recede. you’re the only person who luke allowed to bully him into getting your way, and annabeth must remember that as well as she turns away from the boy she once called a brother. percy looks at annabeth, asking her a silent question, but she doesn’t even acknowledge him, simply keeping her gaze locked on a questionable stain on the floor. 

“hmm, guess not. makes this even more entertaining,” luke says, stepping away from the wall and towards their cell. 

percy doesn’t hesitate this time, swiftly lifting the cap off his pen with the flick of his thumb. his sword appears in his hands, and he grips the hilt so tightly that his knuckles turn white. 

luke holds his hands up in surrender, “no need for violence, percy. i haven’t even gotten a chance to speak yet.” 

“really? cause you’ve been doing all the talking,” percy snaps, his eyes never leaving luke’s figure as he searches for any impending danger. 

luke chuckles again, but it’s humorless. his eyes turn back to percy lacking any and all warmth. with a clenched jaw, luke looks him up and down. percy feels his breath hitch in his throat; he remembers all too well the last time he fought luke. he also remembers that he has more training under his belt than he did a year ago. 

“i’ll be honest with you percy, because i think we owe that to each other. i know my dad sent you here, hoping you’d convince me to change my mind, but it’s not going to work. we both know that,” luke starts. 

“you, on the other hand, still have time to join me. percy, join us and all will be forgiven,” he finishes, extending his hand to percy. 

percy stares at it, and without a second thought spits at the older boy.

luke grimaces, wiping the saliva on his white linen shirt. “well then.” 

he turns to walk away, leaving the two teens and their cyclops companion behind, but he stops suddenly. his black curls bounce as he whips his head around over his shoulder, brown eyes meeting annabeth’s watery gaze: “i’ve done a lot of things, banana, but associating with a cyclops isn’t one of them.” and then he’s gone. 

*****

the training room is already packed when you and katrina arrive. although a majority of the space is taken up by demigods, you can see some monsters hanging around the outskirts of the crowd. their presence is looming, much like their size, and you nervously adjust the bowstring strapped around your upper body. it feels like it’s choking you, a sensation only amplified by the lump in your throat. try as you might, you can’t seem to swallow it down, and it only worsens as other demigods focus their attention on you. while katrina leads you through the crowd towards chris, their whispers echo in your ears. it’s giving you deja vu. 

you blink, and you’re back at camp half-blood. the dining pavilion is silent as you walk behind luke, weaving in and out of tables to get to cabin eleven’s. they’re trying to be subtle, quiet even, but their voices are much louder than intended. not to mention, all their eyes are on you, making it fairly obvious who their target is. a young girl turns to her friend, whispering something in her ear while making direct eye contact with you. you hear every word. 

“and she gets to skip morning training for a pool day. like how is that fair?” an auburn haired girl whispers not-so-quietly to her friend. 

your gaze snaps towards her, lip curled in a sneer. her blue eyes widen when they meet your anger-filled irises. she takes in a shaky breath followed by a cautious step back. after giving her a once over, you recognize her as holland, a fifteen year old daughter of athena. 

luke’s hand grips your shoulder roughly, pulling you along before the situation can escalate despite your incessant protests that you can handle yourself and this girl. he’s not here to do that this time though.

“remind me again, holland, how many bullseyes you’ve hit? oh that’s right, none because you can’t even keep the arrows in the quiver, much less on target,” you ridicule. 

her eyes gloss over and bottom lip trembles, yet she still manages a comeback: “i’m just confused as to why luke’s girlfriend gets special privileges.” 

the silence in the room is loud. everyone was already eavesdropping, but now it’s blatantly clear; you can hear a pin drop. your nostrils flare at her words, and you straighten your spine. scanning over the crowd of demigods and monsters alike, all their eyes ask the same question: what’s your next move? 

“is that what you all think?” you ask rhetorically. 

“well, let’s put those theories to rest,” you continue, marching to the front of the room. 

silently, and with hundreds of eyes watching, you remove your bow from your shoulders. the quiver filled with a dozen arrows brushes against your right thigh as you remove one. the wooden shaft is light and pliable in your hands; if you weren’t so determined to make holland eat her words it’d probably be snapped in half. you load the arrow, inhaling as you pull back the string. on the exhale, you release; a perfect bullseye. 

“let’s see if i can beat holland’s record,” you taunt, already loading up for your second shot on the second target. 

it’s bullseye after bullseye, and the silence in the room only gets heavier with each shot. finally, you run out of arrows and targets. you turn on your heel, facing the crowd. it’s arrogant, but you bend over into a deep bow with your eyes focused on holland’s blue ones. 

“once you can do that, holland, you can skip morning training too,” and with that, you walk out the door. 

you barely make it three steps before someone stops you. it’s luke; you can tell by the way he holds your bicep, firm yet delicate, and the rough calluses on his palm. you shrug, easily wiggling out of his grasp. his eyes are burning a hole in your head, but you refuse to meet his gaze, keeping yours locked on the vast horizon. 

“what was that?” he asks, voice gruff. 

“your army is getting cocky. someone had to put them in check,” you snap, crossing your arms now. 

he scoffs, stepping beside you with his body turned so that he’s looking at you. he waits patiently for you to acknowledge him, but you don’t. the waves rippling out on the ocean are much more entertaining. 

“maybe they know they’re on the winning side,” he replies, voice oozing confidence. 

you’re silent. 

“and i think you need to remember that too,” he continues, walking away. 

“really? cause it feels a lot like camp. if i wanted to be judged, i would’ve just stayed there. i thought my boyfriend, camp half-blood’s golden boy, would understand,” you say. 

luke freezes, but he doesn’t turn around. “then go back there,” he mumbles, opening the door to the training room. 

you blink, registering his monotone voice and hurtful words. maybe i will, you think.

and yet, you still end up falling asleep next to him that night. whispering apologies to each other in between kisses and tangled limbs. 

*****   

percy promised himself that he would never see the princess andromeda again. turns out promises are meant to be broken. he thinks you might be starting to realize that too. 

“and poisoning thalia’s tree was just the beginning,” luke confirms, standing across from percy. 

sword at the ready, percy waits for luke to make the first move. his eyes flicker over to you, and he’s stunned by your confused expression. it’s clear that luke is the mastermind here, but percy always assumed it was more of a co-parenting situation with heavy emphasis on your involvement in the child’s — luke’s plans to restore the golden age — life. it appears, however, that he was wrong. 

“thwarted again luke. the golden fleece is already on its way back to camp. i guess clarisse can be good for something,” percy taunts, but he’s just buying time.

annabeth already has an iris message queued up, broadcasting his conversation with luke to the entirety of camp half-blood. percy’s sure that he’s never beating those seaweed brain allegations, not when he’s so obviously struggling to bait luke. yet, the older brunette clenches his jaw at percy’s words, anger flashing in his eyes. 

“kronos was right. i should’ve killed you when i had the chance,” luke yells, before going on offense. 

percy throws a quick, albeit sloppy, parry. luke grunts, and percy thinks that playing dodgeball with joe bob and his laistrygonian siblings at meriwether college prep really paid off. for one, it definitely made him stronger. and two, he was able to deal with all the chaos of the party ponies around him, much like he was able to win that final dodgeball game. 

in between percy fighting off luke, and the ponies demolishing anything in their sight, annabeth and grover get cornered. percy can see them, backs literally against a wall, as a hellhound growls in annabeth’s face. it’s not afraid of her dagger, and grover’s pipes aren’t doing anything to help the situation. percy turns, ready to jump in and leave his side quest with luke behind, (he’s sure there will be other opportunities), but he doesn’t need to. 

*****

you know it’s wrong. somebody from kronos’s army should not be protecting the so-called enemy, but you can’t help it. annabeth is the little sister you never had, and even if she doesn’t see you in that light anymore, you refuse to stand by and watch her get hurt. 

you whistle, and the hellhound fixes its beady red eyes on you. it probably expects you to run or cower in fear, but it only takes one swipe of your knife to turn him to golden ash. now, there’s nothing standing between the three of you. 

annabeth steps forward, her gray eyes cold and calculating as she tries to determine your ulterior motive. you never once break her stare, even though your chest is heaving, and you feel like passing out from all the new information you received today. 

“i swear i had no idea,” you say, voice breathless. 

annabeth’s gaze softens slightly, and you only know that because you know her so well. you can’t imagine that she believes you; you wouldn’t believe yourself. yet, there are only three people who have seen your true colors, the person buried underneath the mask of hera’s daughter, and annabeth is one of them. unlike grover, annabeth can detect the hurt in your voice. she sees the disappointment in your eyes, and that proves she can trust you. 

“leave with the ponies. i’ll make sure he doesn’t follow you,” you instruct. 

on her nod, you turn away, heading back into the craziness of the party ponies to stop a red boxing glove from punching out ethan nakamura. she pats grover’s shoulder, leading him towards a less congested area, and waits for their chance to slip out. 

true to your word, luke doesn’t follow them home.

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[psychotrenny]

Appealing to "Human Nature" is such a comically self-defeating argument for any revolutionary ideology. Like it's a stupid argument no matter what; the idea of human behaviour on both an individual and societal level being primarily the result of innate unchanging characteristics is directly contradicted by everything that social science and economics have taught us for as long as those fields of study existed. But at least, if you accept its premises, this argument works as a defence of the Status Quo. Things are a certain way because humans are a certain way and therefore there's no point trying to change them; this at least follows a consistent logic. Like Capitalism is clearly a product of whatever "human nature" is, because if it wasn't then it would have never been invented and adopted. The rhetorical trick is convincing people that it's the only thing "human nature" could produce and that any alternative systems are "unnatural" rather than obviously being another manifestation of humanity

But for something like Anarchism this argument makes no sense at all. If Anarchism really was the most "natural" system for humans, then why aren't we living under it? Why did any alternate systems develop, let alone succeed and succeed far more than Anarchism ever has, if they're so unnatural? Like as something produced and widely adopted by humans, the social structures we oppose are every bit as "natural" as the ones we support. The only alternative is to say that "The State" or "Hierarchy" or whatever original sin we want to blame all worldly evil on came from beyond humanity. Like were states imposed on us by Alien Infiltrators? Was Hierarchy the invention of some Great Satan that led us all astray? Don't be ridiculous. Whatever "Human Nature" is (if such a thing even meaningfully exists), all of humanity's products both good and bad must definitionally be part of it. It won't do any good to just excise the parts we don't like, and you sound downright ridiculous when your definition of "Human Nature" is directly contradicted by the simple experiences of living in this world as it currently is. It's much better to live by Karl Marx's favourite maxim: Nothing human is alien to me