#wont support war crimes

[bathroom-sand]

paramount and spyglass are trying so hard right now to save face because jenna ortega rightfully left the scream franchise after they fired melissa for supprting palestine. nobody is dumb enough to believe the excuse that it’s a scheduling conflict hours after rumors she was trying to get out of her contract cause she was pissed. i’m very thankful that jenna is risking her career and using her position to do the right thing. she’s been outspoken about palestine for years now. i hope this begins a trend of zionist losing money for their support and complacency with an active genocide

#free palestine #scream #jenna ortega #melissa barrera #i won’t be surprise if other cast members leave the project #many have been outspoken for years but few have the cultural capital jenna has #i love this cast and this franchise but the right thing to do is boycott future scream content unless it changes hands to people who #wont support war crimes #it takes remarkably little of me to give up a media i love while actual people are dying daily #the carpenter sisters make me so proud 💗 #melissa has since been posting nonstop about palestine and i’m just endlessly proud of her #💗💗💗

[navramanan]

Aquiring knowledge -> getting filled with frustration and anger and dread -> wanting to stay informed regardless -> aquiring knowledge -> getting filled with frustration etc etc

#i am fucking talking to the void and vallahi i WIIIIISSSHHHH i had a proper oulet to let out my frustration #but FFFFFFUUUUUCCCCKKKKK #nothing scarred me and showed me how fucking alone we were in our struggle and grief than the muslim world's reaction to rojava's invasion #in 2019. you know ok i know kurdistan gets little media coverage usually bc it's not relevant to american interest #but the invasion 2019 was HEAVILY covered by western media as it was the direct result of trump withdrawing the troops #and having a phone call with kerrrrrrrdogan saying hey you can invade now #so there was ZERO reason or possibility the muslim world wouldnt see what was happening #it was EVERYWHERE it got great western media coverage #but when i saw big muslim news accounts staying either silent OR siding with turkey i felt so fucking enraged and disturbed #and rejected. in turn there also werent individual muslims showing support as big crowds #like obv there were some here and there but not as a collective. they either sided with turkey or simply didnt care #you have to clock that. i cant say how many died but hundreds of thousands were displaced #turkey USED FUCKING WHITE PHOSPHORUS. WHICH IS A WAR CRIME. IT'S A CHEMICAL WEAPON #they literally said theyd create a strip of land to move syrian refugees there. arab refugees on kurdish land to change the demographic #and every fucking one went yeah that's fine nothing wrong with it. vallahi those people's plights are on you #and allah will ask. dont think he wont. while we were screaming for the muslim world to see us #they in turn pointed there fingers at us. said turkey was fighting terror. said they wouldnt hurt civilians #but what ever do you guys know what it's like to scream and scream but have no one bet an eye? #that's how i feel. that's how we kurds feel #man fuck off whatever i want to strangle someone #nesi rants

[thewriterwithnoplan]

THE TRAITOR'S SOULMATE (2/2)

Summary: Humans once had four legs, four arms, two heads, and two hearts. For humanity's hubris, Zeus struck them in two. You and Luke Castellan are determined to find your way back to each other, but before that can happen, there are things the two of you need to do.

[Part 2 to The Hero's Soulmate]

Soulmate AU: You meet the future version of your soulmate.

Pairing: Luke Castellan x Reader

Word Count: 7378

Warnings: Canon typical warnings, swearing, I use the spelling 'mom' because the series is American but I - and I cannot stress this enough - am not American, she a long one.

A/N: I've loved reading your comments, thank you so much for all the support in part one. I hope you enjoy, because we all deserve a little Luke Castellan every now and then!

Masterlist

Amphitrite had been gifted a premonition and the world was all the worse for it. The dream had come from Apollo or perhaps the Oneiroi or whatever great heart pumped blood and Gods and monsters out into the world.

It did not matter to the Goddess from whom the vision came, for in this dream Amphitrite had watched her husband fall in love and sire a child to a mortal paramour. A precious boy that Poseidon might even one day love, with a taste for the colour blue and a heroism that would grow to rival his namesake. And for the Queen of the Seas, that simply would not do.

It would not be the child’s nor his mortal mother’s fault – she was not Hera after all – and so she would have to punish her husband for the blame would be his. But how was one to punish a King among Gods before his crime even came to be? Why to beat him at his own game, of course.

So, Amphitrite set out to sire her own demigod with the mortal man her husband would hate most. A devout catholic.

Amphitrite stayed with her mortal lover and their half-blood daughter until the girl was all but five.  Far longer than the greater Gods were wont to spend with their offspring. But what a precious babe she had bourn and what a traitorous husband she had back home.

But fate and prophecies and soulmates were such funny things. Inciting chaos. Inviting paradox. Introducing dangers untold.

It took Amphitrite all those years – though seemingly short in her immortality – to realise her fatal error. She had been the one to leave Poseidon. She had been the one to sire a child. She had been the one to drive her husband to the surface and his mortal. And so, the blame was hers to shoulder.

Amphitrite decided that she would be a self-fulfilling prophecy no longer. It was time to venture back below the surface.

In a last fit of guilt, she bestowed her first and final act of mercy unto her mortal lover. She told him everything.

When finally, she had gone back to the sea to reconcile with her husband, the catholic man took his turn to bestow his first and final act of mercy unto his young demigod child.

Against all the teachings of his faith. He abandoned his young daughter at Half-Blood Hill. And let the devil-spawn keep her life.

The Spirit of the Hudson River never did learn to like you. You with your greedy hands, snatching debris from its murky waters. You and your strange sea creature friends who would not dare brave such pollution were it not for your presence. Your pile of war spoils tossed aside like children’s toys. Your strange little bubble of air on the sandy floor of the river, where you stowed your treasures and slept bracketed by water. Were it not for the pollution that slopped against the edge of the river as if it were trying to escape you, the Hudson River Spirit might have chased you and your sea friends and your collection of trinkets out of his waters. But as it were, you made a strangely amicable tenant for a demigod. So, as long as you paid your dues the spirit let you keep your little underwater oasis.

For your first years living there, you made your way in New York City by selling lost things dredged from your river home. Bikes and old weaponry and tarnished jewellery and buckets of coins from across the world. You were careful and you coveted your few precious belongings, but with the rivers bounty, you rarely went hungry.

By the time you were fourteen, you found you could venture further into the city without as many questions. You had met an odd assortment of people whilst selling the lost and unloved things of the river; all who knew someone, who knew someone, who needed another set of hands and so you offered yours. You babysat and cleaned, worked in delis and sandwich shops, helped old women with their groceries and young families mend their clothes. A retired teacher gifted you packets of schoolwork and with little else to fill your hours under the river you took to learning. Your numbers came easier than letters and reading always gave you a hard time but the activities she gave you each time you tended to her balcony garden gave you something to do when the sounds of the city kept you up at night.

All the while you followed Percy Jackson from the recesses of the Hudson. Shuffling your little bubble and its blessedly dry treasures up and then back down the river as he was bounced listlessly from school to school. Watching over him as the mythosphere tried desperately to barge into his little mortal life. Feral harpies that tried to snatch him into the air, great snakes that tried to sneak through air vents and all manner of underworld-born sea creatures that sought to pull him below. You had wrestled and dismembered and slayed them all. Adding their feathers and scales and great weapons to your dragons-hoard.

You were sixteen when you finally knocked on Sally Jackson’s door to introduce yourself. You had spent weeks working yourself up to it, planning your outfit and then fussing over each piece. All your clothes had been gifts and were often a size too big or printed with some generic tagline like Spread peace not hate!; or made entirely from yarn that the old woman whose meals you prepped at the start of each week had gifted you after she had taught you how to crochet; or like the dress you wore now, were sown together from thrifted fabric scraps and embellished with pretty shells and baroque pearls. You had planned the time you would arrive down to the minute so that her oppressive husband would be out, but the hour would not be so late as to make an unexpected visit threatening. You had planned to keep Percy safe while you were away from him by entrusting your friends Clarence the Crab and Emily the Squid to supervise him for the evening.

What you had not planned for was the possibility that Sally Jackson would be the most lovely woman you had ever met. You had been struck dumb by it the moment she opened her door and greeted you with a kind smile. Couldn’t your mother have chosen a mortal as gentle as she to be your parent? Alas, the Gods had never done a thing for you.

“Can I help you, lovely?”

You tried not to burst into tears as you asked, “Mrs. Jackson?”

“Are you alright?” She opened the door wider, leant out and scanned the corridor behind you. “Is there something you need?”

“No ma’am. I’m here about your son, Percy. His father sent me.” A good ambiguous statement that would pique her curiosity but let on nothing about the Gods. Allowing you to spin your tale – that you were Percy’s long-lost step-sister, come to reconnect. 

“Poseidon?” Alas, the Gods had truly never done a thing for you. “Is something wrong? Is Percy, okay?”

“He’s fine Mrs. Jackson, I’ve been keeping him safe.” 

She scanned the hall behind you once more, “You best come in.”

Over a cup of tea, you told Sally Jackson everything.

You liked your home under the river. For lack of a better term, it allowed you to remain liquid. You could follow Percy wherever trouble took him. You could stay up until the city grew quiet for that brief moment before dawn. You could train with the Hudson River Spirit, even if he only entertained you because he enjoyed winning.

You liked your bed made out of stacked wood pallets and a mountain of blankets. You liked your wooden chest of draws stuffed full of trinkets and weapons and the precious few items you owned. You liked this place that you had carved out with your own two hands.

But you also liked your home in the Jackson household. Where there was always music playing. Where it was always warm and dry. Where there would always be some blue-ified food in the oven or blue candy in the mason jars by the sink.

It became your job in the summers to babysit Percy, to keep him away from Gabe and from danger while entertaining his endless need for motion. You took him to art galleries (which he hated) and aquariums (which he loved), to craft fairs (which he tolerated because he liked the things you made) and swimming pools (which he only liked when he won your swimming races).

“What even is a soulmate?” Percy had asked you one day at the park.

“The person with the other half of your soul,” You scrunched your nose up, “Or well, that's what people say.”

“You’re saying I’ve been walking around with half a soul?”

“I didn’t say I believed them,” You rattled your water bottle in front of his face until he took it. “Stay hydrated.”

He frowned at you, “You don’t believe in soulmates?”

“Of course I do, but it's a little more complicated than that, kid.” You took the water bottle back and played with the cap for a moment while you thought. “Think of it like this. You can have two different puzzles that are cut the same way, right? So all the pieces from one will fit with all the pieces from the other. But that doesn’t mean they belong together, the picture doesn’t come out quite right because even though the pieces fit, they don’t necessarily belong to the same puzzle. Maybe that’s what it was like for your mom, like she couldn’t find the pieces that made up her picture and so she went with the ones that fit at the time.”

“You don’t think my mom and dad were soulmates?”

“I never met your father.”

“But he’s your dad too.”

“He’s my mom’s husband. Maybe my mom and dad are soulmates.” Percy didn’t seem to like that answer.  “Maybe it doesn’t matter. Maybe your mom and my mom each have pieces that fit into your dad's puzzle but neither match his picture, or both. Maybe his picture is a year with your mom and a lifetime with mine and having you. Maybe he needs to collect all those little pieces at the right time when they’re the right shape or he’ll end up with a completely different picture at the end.”

“I kind of understand.” But he gave you a look that said he probably didn’t. “What picture are you making?”

You hid your smile behind the lip of your water bottle, “My soulmates about yay-high, pretty as a magazine cover with dimples and all. I’m collecting my puzzle pieces with you and your mom and this city so that I’ll have half of his picture.”

“If you know who he is, why don’t you just go find him now?”

“Still looking for some pieces, I guess.” You kicked a rock with the toe of your boot. “Souls are fragile. If you go rushing in and trying to jam the pieces in when they’re not shaped right just yet you could damage them.”

“What happens if you do that?”

“It’s probably harder to find each other in the next life. You’ll chip pieces away and your souls won’t fit right.” You shoved your hands into the pockets of your cardigan and pulled out a sandwich, you gave Percy the bigger half.

“Who taught you all this?”

“My mom used to tell me and well, I've thought about it a lot.” You tugged Percy by the back of his shirt so he didn't go stomping through a puddle, he glared. “But anyway, some people think it’s just fate. That you find your soulmate no matter what and it’s a perfect fit either way.”

“It would be easier that way.”

“Sometimes that’s just not how the story goes, kid.”

Percy thought that was the most important thing anyone had ever taught him, but he figured some of the other stuff you taught him came in handy too. You taught him the tricks you learned to work around your dyslexia. You taught him to skip stones and to not throw rocks at seagulls. You taught him to flip off the Empire State Building but only when his mom wasn’t around. You taught him to knit and do a cartwheel and make a good cup of tea to take his mother in the morning. You taught him to chew with his mouth shut and to sword fight with wrapping paper rolls. You taught him to braid hair and throw a punch and say all the swears in Ancient Greek.

And then one day, a Satyr came for Percy Jackson, and there was nothing left for you to teach. 

You wrote Sally a brief letter of warning, picked your way through seven years’ worth of belongings and collapsed your life into a backpack. You said goodbye to Clarence and Emily with a brief promise to visit, pushed a final wave of pollution from the waters and thanked the Hudson River Spirit for his hospitality. He gifted you sixteen perfect round pearls and insisted that he never wanted to see you again. You spent the bus ride to Long Island threading them into a necklace made of fishing wire, tying off each pearl with your teeth. 

It was a tentative tradition between demigod soulmates to exchange gifts upon their first meeting. So few and far between were the possessions of a half-blood that even the smallest bauble would likely mean the world. The practice had died out some over the centuries as the Gods received fewer offerings from mortals and turned to their children for sacrifices. Gift-giving to your soulmate as a demigod became all but synonymous with spitting at the feet of the divine and loudly proclaiming you would make offerings to your soulmate instead. A pearl necklace would be an excellent final addition to the collection of small gifts you had assembled over the years. Let the Gods weep at your feet and beg for scraps if they needed them so much, you would ignore them just as they had ignored you. 

You arrived at Camp far sooner than you might have liked, a few hours past mid-day when hopefully the rest of your ilk would be occupied with meaneal chores and activities. You considered waiting at the crest of the hill for someone to notice you only to find a pine tree planted firmly at its peak where you might have stood. Instead, you make the alarmingly easy trek down to the Big House.

“Chiron!” He had always been your favourite of the two men, currently sat on the porch drinking juice and playing cards. 

“Yes, my girl?” He barely spared you a glance as he shuffled his cards between his weathered hands. He stilled for a moment and then tossed his head back in the way a horse might toss its mane. “My dear!” 

You raised a hand, halfway between a salute and a wave, “Nice to know I haven’t been totally forgotten.”

“Au contraire.” Mr. D stuck his nose up at you. “Which one are you again?” 

“The little one that went missing some seven years ago,” Chiron stood as you climbed the stairs onto the porch. “How are you, my dear? Where have you been?”

“Shouldn’t you be at Yancy Academy?”

Mr. D’s eyes turned sharp in the way that had once made your friends whisper that some days, he was more maniac than man , “And how do you know about that little girl?”

“Percy Jackson is at Yancy,” You smiled at him, all teeth, “How did you think he survived long enough for your baby satyr to find him?” 

“You have been protecting young demi-gods?” Chiron asked wearily. 

“Percy Jackson is a full-time job, I’m afraid,” You tugged at the strap of your backpack, praying you could keep control of the conversation. You had a lot of time under the river to think and this was one of many things you had spent countless hours mulling over. Weighing and considering what story you would tell them – to tell the truth of both your parentage and put Percy in harm's way or to lie and balance your life on its sharp edge. “I found him in Manhattan, he was like a magnet for mythological activity. By the time I’d had enough of rebelling and wanted to come back to camp, I was protecting him from attacks every other week. He wouldn’t have lasted a month. I came back as soon as I could.” 

No matter how many times you played it out in your head, the lies won every time. 

“Kids.” Mr. D threw back the last of his juice.

“Perhaps you should settle back into the Hermes Cabin, dear.” Chiron smiled down at you, the corners of his eyes pinched, “You’ve given myself and Mr. D much to talk about. We’ll settle the issue of your paperwork tomorrow.”

“Of course.” You rustled through your bag, digging up a palm sized statuette that you set onto the table. “Before I forget, I brought you a gift Mr. D.”

“A toy,” He snatched it up. “Oh joy.”

“It’s you, as the mortals’ see you. It’s from the gift shop at the Met.”

“How kind of you, my dear.” Chiron softened, and you watched as even Mr. D’s temper seemed to ease, his hands gentle around the gift as he admired it. 

An unseeing piece of plastic for the God who served as no more than a silent observer over the affairs of the camp. Let him choke on his ego, you thought as you left the pair to their discussion. 

Cabin 11 was blessedly empty when you entered, but your old bunk was not. A pile of clothes was thrown haphazardly across the bedspread. You snatched a sleeping bag and a lumpy pillow from the storage closet and threw them down with your bag. If you could not have the bunk that had been yours at twelve, you would claim the corner that had been yours at five. As you shook out the sleeping bag and pulled out your belongings, you tried not to think of your bed of blankets under the river or Sally Jackson’s couch. 

Instead you turned your mind to the Big House and the conversation that was no doubt happening within. 

You had constructed a perfect image, if you did say so yourself. Grown in ways Mr. D could not have predicted but Chiron would insist he had foreseen. Still a rebellious young woman in the mortal sense, with your scuffed leather boots and ripped jeans. But the parts that had screamed ‘insubordination’ to the Gods were neatly tucked away. Your twin knives strapped to your forearms under the billowing sleeves of your crocheted top, your vicious tongue caged behind a sweet grin, your once sharp stare softened at the edges.

Once you had fashioned yourself so that the Gods could not paint you as a hero, now you fashioned yourself so that they might forget you were an enemy. 

Let Chiron think you were a misunderstood wayward girl scout come home from her self-imposed quest. Let Mr. D think you were a stupid girl who had seen the world beyond the Gods’ protection and finally accepted that you needed them. Let them all think wrong. You had left to protect your brother and returned for one reason only. 

“You’re here.” 

You turned, and there he was, “Luke Castellan.” 

He opened his mouth and then closed it, limbs jerking slightly as if he wasn’t sure whether to move toward you or stay put. He was almost certain you could hear the way his pulse was racing, his heartbeat clanging wildly in his chest as he searched desperately for a suave reply, but everything else seemed lack lustre when you said his name like that.

Your face twisted into something like anger and for a moment he thought he’d messed it all up before your lips curled and you practically spat, “I do like your scar.”

And then he was laughing at you, wild and bewildered and not the least bit contained. Before long you were laughing too, neither of you quite sure what was funny, just so wholly relieved as your chests were flooded with wonder and warmth.

It felt like fireworks and popping candy. Just as he had promised all those years ago. You resisted the urge to throw up on his Converse. 

You might have been crying and he might been too but you weren’t exactly sure because one moment you were both laughing at nothing and the next he was on the floor with you. He held you like he had never held a single thing in his life, like he was lost at sea and you were the only solid thing for miles. He tucked your head under his chin and sucked in great forced breaths that you could feel beneath your cheek. Because he was warm and there and real. And that meant the last seven years, the better part of your life, hadn’t been for nothing. 

 You and Luke make your way to dinner side by side. You had spent the afternoon rambling about your lives, about your meetings with your future selves, about your home under the river, about his responsibilities as a camp counsellor and yours as your brother’s keeper. He told you about Annabeth and Thalia and the rest of his siblings, you told him about your parents and Sally Jackson and your sea friends. You gave him his necklace which he lets you fix in place at the base of his throat – you do not spend a moment too long running your hand up the back of his neck and through his curls. 

He had been almost bashful when he gifted you a watch that matched his, inlaid with twin fragments of mother of pearl taken from the same shell – kind of like your soul had been, he had said. You swear you’ve never owned anything as precious. You let him strap it to your wrist as he tells you about spending a summer diving for it in the lake. And then softly, tentatively, he tells you about his quest.

Luke could have cried from the way you were looking at him alone, so very gently, like you could cradle him with your gaze alone. At a loss for words, you simply whispered, “I am so proud of you.”

His grip is iron-clad and you tell your next story with your face pressed into the side of his neck, pretending you can’t feel him shaking softly. 

When you make your way to dinner you’re both glowing with the soft exhaustion of emotion. You all but lean against one another as you collect your goblets and fill your plates.

The other campers steer clear of you, content to leave Luke to chauffeuring the new kid around. You count yourself lucky, it was only a matter of time until one of the older campers recognised you.

You were almost to the end of the Hermes table – that perfect spot at the end where you might just have a chance of holding a private conversation after dinner – when Chiron interrupted you. 

“Mr. Castellan, I see you’ve acquainted yourself with our newly returned camper.”

“That’s my job, sir.” You tried not to stare at the crooked smile he flashed the centaur. 

“Perhaps you ought to show her how to make an offering,” Chiron says pointedly, “She’s been away for a long time, and it’s your responsibility to treat her as you would any other incoming Camper.”

Luke turned to you, his boyish grin still charming but the mirth leaking out of his eyes, “Of course. Do you remember how it’s done?” 

“I do. Just not a lot of food to be spared in the mortal world.” 

You squinted, the corners of your mouth pulled up in what Chiron would likely mistake for sheepishness. But Luke could see it in your eyes. How your anger had made you pointy in all the places someone your age ought to be soft. He wondered how all the jagged edges of you would feel against all the jagged edges of him. He thought maybe if the two of you were careful, you could make something smooth as sea glass and twice as pretty, together.

You dump a clump of mashed potatoes into the fire with an unconcerned flick of your fork. Luke lops part of his own meal on top of yours, you glare enviously at the reasonable portion he had left on his plate. You hoped the food would burn at the bottom of the braiser. 

“Sorry, sir.” You mocked Luke. He stuck his tongue at you once Chiron had turned his back. 

You hurried to snag the seat at the end of his table, sliding into place across from each other. You flounder for a moment, wondering whether to draw your legs as far under your seat as they will go or bask in the gentle brush of his knee against his leg. You settle for the latter and try not to evaporate under his gaze, as he stares at you even as you start eating.

Luke realised he’d spent too long staring when you all but groaned, “Don’t tell me I have to sacrifice my dinner to you too.” 

He flashed you a grin, then tried to say as nonchalantly as possible,“Is that why you left? So you could enjoy a proper meal every once and a while?”

You stared at him for a long while, “You, future you, told me to leave, to find my brother.”

“Why would I do that? If you had stayed at Camp–”

“That’s almost exactly what I said to you.” You pushed your food around as you stared at a point just beyond his head, he thought for a moment that he could see the neurons firing behind your eyes, like a hundred tiny zaps of lightning, “But I’ve had plenty of time to think about it. And I think you were right to send me away.”

“I don’t think I’ll be hearing that very often.” He dodged the pea you fling at him with a grin. 

“I think maybe if I don’t leave, I won’t become this me or do the things I’ve done and maybe that’s important for us or our future or some past you rewrote by telling me to leave.”

“Seems overly complicated.” 

“I think it’s supposed to be complicated,” You couldn’t help but admire the quiet skill with which he wielded his cutlery, “If it were easy, we would find each other in every universe.”

He paused, knife aloft, “You don’t want to find each other in every universe?”

“It doesn’t matter what I want.” You speared a leaf of spinach onto your fork to hide your scowl behind as you said, “The Gods have made it this way to keep us separated.”

“We’re together now.” 

“Which means they lost.”

Luke watched you for a drawn out heartbeat, then leaned over to transfer the perfect squares of meat he’d been cutting onto your plate. 

You took a long moment to chew before you said, “So, your plan to send me after Percy worked.”

“I thought it was your plan.”

“I forgot to ask you whose plan it was.”

“I say it’s your plan.” He took a long pull from his goblet that left his lips tinted red. 

“It doesn’t matter what you think.” You passed him a napkin before he could ask, “It’s what you will think.”

“Sure, Precious.” He smothers a laugh into the napkin at the way you scrunch your nose at him, “You know, because you're so protective of your food. Like Gollum with the ring.”

“That’s the stupidest explanation for a pet name I’ve ever heard.” But you’re damn near head down on the table as you laughed. “I definitely got the smarter half of our soul.”

“Then it was definitely your plan.”

You’ve still got a hand pressed to your face to conceal your smile when you say, “What about when I meet you? Any words of wisdom?”

“Try not to fall for me. I can tell you’re pretty charmed but it’s really not appropriate. I’m seventeen, and you’re what? Twenty-four?” 

You launched your bread roll at him. You’re twice as incensed when he catches it whilst looking directly at you, “Asshole.”

“Smartass. See, two can play that game.”

Luke can’t help but think you’re just as pretty sneering as you are smiling, like no expression no matter how ugly could detract from your beauty. Maybe you’re like him, he scarcely dared to hope. Maybe you’re something better, another part of him whispered. The way you talk about the Gods and turn your nose up at them, and play their game only when it suits you. 

You weren’t vengeful in the way he was. You weren’t the spitting vicious thing the Camp had liked to pretend you were when you weren’t around to prove otherwise. You were worse and better and everything he needed. You were a storm on the horizon, a snake coiled tight. You were better than just angry. You were disillusioned. Not a product of juvenile resentment but true wrath born of awareness. Not the wild foaming-at-the-mouth kind that he had imagined when he had first heard your name. But the dark carefully contained kind he had seen in the face you would grow into.

This, Luke thought, you were the start of everything.

It’s some weeks later when you stick your hands through the grating of the bunk above Luke as leverage to lean over him and croon, “Up and at ‘em, Pretty Boy.”

He pushed his face out of his pillow, curls sticking up at odd angles as he looked at you half-asleep, “What?”

“Remember? Training?”

“No,” He scrubbed sleep from his eyes, “What did you call me?”

“Sickly.” 

“I don’t think that was it.” He propped his head up on a fist as he smiled at you sleepily. 

It was so disgustingly cute that you had to turn your back when you said, “Just meet me there.” 

Luke’s freshly showered and holding an apple core when he deigns to join you in the forest. He tossed the apple at you and you caught it without thinking. You fake gag at him as you throw it further into the forest. 

You wiped your hands against his shoulder as you say, “I’m not sure if an apple core counts but that was dangerously close to an Ancient Greek proposal, Castellan.”

“I got hungry.” He shrugged. You squared off across the clearing, stretching as you warmed yourselves up for the ensuing sparring match. 

“You’re going to have to do better than that.”

“Is this you rejecting me?” He landed an open hand on his chest and staggered backward. “You wound me, Precious!”

“Was that you proposing? Because I’m,” You wiped your hand again for good measure, scrunching your nose up, “Disgusted.”

“You would be honoured if I had just proposed to you.” 

“You should be nicer to me.”

“And go easy on you just because you’re my soulmate? Unlikely.”

“Because, asshole, I’m the one who got you out of chores this morning, or have you forgotten already. You seemed rather grateful for your little sleep-in.”

He unsheathed his sword and twirled it round in his hand, “You’re a bad influence.” 

“Like you weren’t ready to worship the ground I walk on when I told Chiron you needed to get my training up to speed.” 

“Do you want me to tell you, you’re brilliant?” He pointed his sword toward you with that grin that made you want to hold him down just so you could admire it longer. “You’re brilliant.”

“You’re stalling.” You pull your knives out, one from your boot, the other from your belt. You miss your old clothes with their pretty sleeves and their personality, your camp shirt seems a poor trade in comparison. 

“Stalling? Me?” Luke scoffed. “Never!”

“Don’t you have a counsellor meeting at half-past?”

“I do, so please don’t feel bad when you lose. I only have half an hour to wrap this up. You understand.”

“Who’s fault is that Mr. Just-five-more-minutes?”

He gasped in mock offence and lunged forward, his sword swinging at you in a great arch. You leapt back, out of his range, then ducked low and rushed toward him. Luke was quick, in a viciously smooth move he swept his sword at you again. You brought your knives together, bracing as the impact ricocheted up your arms. Admittedly, you were at a great disadvantage given that you were reluctant to throw a knife at Luke’s head – even though he’d demonstrated an impressive ability to swipe your wayward throws out of the air – and that he had an additional several feet of reach on you.

Luke feigned to the right, you lashed out at his left side and narrowly avoided his sword as it came down at you. He whistled slowly as both of you backed up to circle each other for a moment. 

“You’ve got moves, I’ll give you that.” 

And so the dance went on. Luke struck, you parried or slipped out of his blade's path with a flourish. You struck, Luke swung his sword and slipped around your blows. Finally, you found the chink in his precious armour. He fell back to his right foot when he deflected a blow. You jerked forward. You jabbed the knife clutched in your left hand toward him as you moved in with the right. Just as you hooked a foot around the back of his leg, Luke’s sword made contact with your left shoulder slicing through sleeve and skin. Luke fell backward with a sharp hiss, his sword flying to the side.

In the end you had laid him out flat in twenty minutes. Luke Castellan had spent the last seven years fighting to win. You had spent them fighting to survive. You supposed it didn’t hurt that the greatest swordsman to enter Camp Half-Blood in nearly three centuries was reluctant to let anything sharp or pointed anywhere near you. You secretly thought he might have been going easy on you for being his soulmate after all. You collapsed on the forest floor beside him, your chest heaving to draw in oxygen. 

“I’m sorry about your shirt,” Luke huffed. 

“Orange isn’t really my colour.”

He turned to you with a wink, “Oh but it is.” 

You wave your hand through the air.

“I’ve gotten very good at putting broken things back together over the years.” He tried not to look at the line of stitching that ran from the ankle of your jeans to the rips at your knee. You tried not to look at his cheek. Instead you reached out and trailed your hands across his necklace where the pearls sat snuggly at the base of his throat. 

“You’re wonderful.” He brushed his knuckles down your shoulder and they came away red. “Even covered in blood you’re the most wonderful thing I’ve ever seen.” 

You groaned, “Sweetness, you can’t just say–”

“You call me Sweetness when you visit me.” He whispered it like it was his greatest secret. You traced up his throat to his cheek and pressed your thumb into his dimpled cheek. “You’re still being wonderful. I can’t think when you’re–”

“Wonderful?”

“Okay, Smartass.” He sighed up at the sky, then pulled the both of you to your feet, “Enough lounging, we need to get that cut checked.” 

You let him dust the dirt from you and resheath your knives, one in your boot, the other in your belt. Silently revelling in the gentle way he tugs you this way and that. You were well on your way to the infirmary, shoulders bumping and fingers just barely brushing, before he spoke again.

“Where does it come from? The nickname.”

“Sweetness?” 

He looked away from you and squinted off into the distance, as if you were suddenly too bright to look at, “Yeah.”

“My mom used to tell me this story about meeting her soulmate. She probably meant Poseidon, but at the time I thought it was about my dad,” The back of Luke’s hand bumped into yours again, his fingers catching yours, his gaze resolutely ahead but you were definitely holding hands. “She said it felt like swallowing lightning and gorging yourself on popping candy. Like sweetness.”

“You like popping candy?”

“It’s my favourite.” You gave him a queer look as if to say, it’s not yours, you utter heathen?

Luke laughed at you all the way to the Apollo Cabin as he listed all the reasons it was the sub-par candy option. Nonetheless, when you emerge from the infirmary, he unloads a fistful of little packets he’d pinched from the candy bowl when the Apollo kids’ hadn’t been looking.

“Who has sub-par candy options now, Sweetness?” You teased, your mouth crackling merrily.

“Keep calling me that and you can have all the terrible candy you want.”

“Try some,” You shoved a packet toward him, because if he kept saying silly things like that and looking at you the way he was you were liable to do or say something equally as stupid. “You’ve got half my soul, maybe it’s our favourite.”

“I don’t think they had popping candy when we had one soul,” He flicks the packet held between your fingers. “And aren’t you the one who says we’re puzzle pieces not halves?”

“You have been listening to me!”

“Hard not to.”

“Asshole.” You flashed your teeth at him.

“Smartass.” He said, but the bite wasn’t there. He was watching you again, in that way he did sometimes before he said something stupid that made you want to throw yourself in the lake or run back to Manhattan or do something equally as stupid, like kiss him. “You–”

You twisted your hand in the front of his shirt and jerked him toward you, the little sachet crinkling in your fist. For a heartbeat, you were both silent, an inch away and staring as if you could will the other to be the one to press forward. But then he closed his eyes and Luke Castellan was kissing you. Like lightning and popping candy. With all the elegance of two lovestruck teenage fools and all the heat of two people who knew they had all the time in the world but still couldn’t bear to waste a second of it. His hand held you by the chin and then splayed lightly across your cheek and tucked hair softly behind your ear. You were only just reaching for the mess of curls at the back of his head when someone wolf whistles.

“My favourite.” Luke grinned, licked his lips and then turned. Hands stuffed in his pockets and a big stupid grin stretched across his face, as he shouted at you, “Stay out of trouble.”

You flip off the Aphrodite kid who’d whistled at you, and hurried back to the Apollo Cabin. You and Luke Castellan were going to need a lot more popping candy. 

You’re in the lake, encased in an air bubble, sprawled out side by side with your backs against the sand, when Luke tells you what he’s done. That mere weeks before your arrival he had done the unthinkable. He had robbed the King of the Gods blind and betrayed half the Pantheon in doing so. You weren't sure whether to laugh or cry.

You had simply laid there, silently, for what had felt like aeons to Luke but maybe that had only been because he had to keep reminding himself not to hold his breath. He wasn’t drowning. You weren’t going to turn him in. He hadn’t just blown his whole plan and his life with his soulmate in one fell swoop. He just had to keep breathing and wait for you to say something. He thinks that maybe your mother had passed on some divine knack for diplomacy as Queen of the Sea with the way you seem to turn the issue of his betrayal over and over in your head. 

After a while, you reach your arm toward the bubble and the sky. For a brief, terrifying moment, Luke thinks you’re going to pull the lake down on him. When you don’t Luke spends another infinite second wondering whether he would just let you do it. 

He tosses the thought aside and focuses on the coin weaving between your knuckles. Like magic, it appears and disappears around the bends of your fingers but it wasn't real magic, just you fidgeting. He pressed his lips together and tried not to think about you at the bottom of the Hudson River, flipping your coin and turning over the issue of your soulmate and your brother and the camp you’d left behind. What is it you had said? You’d had plenty of time to think about those things. 

Maybe that's what you need now – time. He’s about to offer it to you, offer to swim his way back to shore so you can think, even if he'd probably drown on the way. He’d give you all the time in the world if he had it. 

But then you finally speak, the golden drachma rolling between your fingers, “If you hurt my brother, soulmate or not, I will kill you.”

“I am your soulmate.” He insisted as the implication made his skin itch.

“You are.” Your smile was so gentle it almost felt sad. “So you understand that my love for him comes before my hatred of the Gods. If you have put him in danger wit–”

“We get married.” He blurted. “We have a future. I woke you, when you visited me. That must mean I win.”

“It means, if that’s the path we’re even on, if those people are even the versions of us that we become… maybe you don’t hurt Percy.”

“I won’t.” He swore and you weren’t sure how to ignore the half of your soul that lies so sweetly. “I wouldn’t.”

“Maybe.” You swallowed like you’d been chewing glass your whole life, and someone had finally offered you something substantial to sink your teeth into. “Maybe if we leave now, there’s a world in which I don’t have to pick between my blood and my soul.”

Luke was quiet for a long moment, “We could recruit him. You said it yourself, he’ll be more powerful than any of us.”

“He’s twelve.”

“He’s the son of Poseidon.”

“He’s twelve.”

“You were twelve when you left to protect him.”

“And look how that turned out,” Your grin was brittle, but he swore you were still the loveliest creature he’d ever laid eyes on. “I’m sat here planning to betray everything I was raised to follow.”

“You’re going to follow me?”

Your eyes traced the shape of his jaw, his nose, his scar. You looked pained, “I fear I would follow you into much worse, Luke Castellan.”

“I’m trying to lead you to something better.” He reached for your hand, took the drachma from your fingers, and pressed a slow, soft kiss to your palm. He smiled and there were dimples in his cheeks and tears in his eyes as he whispered, “We can try for better.”

“Leave Percy.” You pressed your fingers to his cheek, “Let him come to camp, let him join us when he’s ready.”

“You’re sure he’ll join us?”

“He will, I know it. We just need to let him see the Gods’ apathy for himself.” And you sighed. Luke wondered how many lifetimes your souls had seen, how many times you had searched for each other, how many times you had been torn apart. You sound ancient when you say, “You and I have seen more than enough.”

He turned his head and whispered in the scarce distance between you, “What do you propose?” 

“We leave. As soon as anyone catches on, we take anyone who agrees with us and flee.” You brought his hand to your mouth and pressed your lips to his knuckles firmly, “We can plot your revenge and plan my new world on the way.”

Luke feels ancient when he promises, “Okay, on the way then.”

But he swears, as you lean forward and kiss him, that no matter how many times you do it this lifetime or in all the lifetimes until this story – of you and Luke Castellan – became ancient, it would still never stop feeling like the first time.

Like lightning and popping candy.

Tag List:

@emelia07 @star611 @7s3ven @kissingyourgrl @myxticmoon @shermanno @moonsficrec @soleilgrec

#luke castellan x reader #soulmate au #luke castellan #pjo luke #percy jackon and the olympians #pjo series #pjo show #percy jackson show #pjo #percy jackson #luke castellan fanfic #luke castellan pjo #luke castellan fic #luke castellan fanfiction

[sillyandquiteawkward]

im stuck here where my representatives literally will tell me over and over that they dont care about genocide to my face and that they wont change their stance on ceasefire, so please make sure you call fax or email yours in support of a ceasefire. dont let the people around you continue to believe the current propaganda narrative in the media and that nothing can be done. this is a one-sided massacre, war crime upon war crime, and justice will be had. there are a list of representatives who have supported ceasefire here too, so if you see yours on the list, thank them for standing up for whats right, and encourage those who havent to change their mind.

#your voice matters even if your representatives arent listening yet.

[dimplecki]

im israeli and im a leftist, i hate my goverment and i hate hamas, i lived through enough wars in my short life. i dont think palastinians&jews deserve to suffer and die. i care. but i dont give a shit if some blogger thinks i'm a "genocide supporter zionist white supermasict" and feels i should wake up and go to sleep with deep rooted shame over my crime(?????) of being born in israel

Most of the pro-Palestinians have never seen an Israeli or a Palestinian in their lifes. so they decided that Jews are white and Arabs are brown because they have to see everything from an American point of view that everything is about skin color. They won't be able to tell the difference between a Jew and an Arab or between Hebrew and Arabic even if their lives depended on it, but somehow they think they know enough about history to preach and patronize us for our very existence. i know a bigot who tells me i'm a white colonizer actually doesnt know anything real with substance about this middle eastern conflict. i wont justify or excuse myself being israeli to people rotten with hate from their insides. i wont educate people who reblog unverified screenshots & their blog is full of antisemetic trash. they can go on with their fake activism and boycotts and their little hate blogs, and i will continue my way of actually helping real people, advocating for peace and cherishing my friendships with arabs. i will no longer let myself be drowned with hate from people who are so priviliged to sit in the comfort of their homes&judge others and excpect them to betray their country\leave their life behind, while they do nothing & feel morally superior just because they were born elsewhere (it's pathetic)

#palastine #israel #antisemitism #racism #gaza #i/p

[briliantlymad]

padme time travel plot bunny bouncing in my head

theres a good chunk of time travel fics where obiwan travels back or anakin does. but not enough where padme travels back in time and decides she's not letting her husband and the world she loves go to shit. and just. orchestrates an assasination with her handmaidens. this is padme amidala people i really do think she's capable of handling the entire situation really well. I feel like a padme armed with the knowledge of the future really would do whatever it takes if it meant keeping anakin and her kids safe.

Like i genuinely do believe that the reason padme was willing to leave the republic behind and take anakin with her was cus she was disillusioned with the republic by then. she knew anakin was a symptom of a failing republic not the cause. and at that point she'd forgiven him so much what's another thing to the list? she's back in time, she's not going to hold anakin responsible for crimes he's yet to commit, there's good in him. she knows he's capable of far greater good than he thinks himself to be.

palpatine is dead and she thinks everything will be ok now she doesnt have to worry much about the clone wars cus she knows what to do and anakin's capable of a lot when he doesnt have a snake whispering in his ear. i just want her to have a good chunk of time where she believes that with palpatine out of the way things will go back to the normal. that palpatine and his schemes was the only reason democracy fell to an empire and the clone wars continued as long as they did. and for a time they do.

Anakin gets to come home to her more often. she's able to gather support for her bills as the time passes. but. things aren't moving as fast as she'd like. she understands that progress takes time but with palpatine out of the way things should've gotten significantly easier. only its not. the rot runs deeper, its entrenched in the very soul of the republic.

and i need her to be completely annoyed and angry as things only get worse as and Dooku comes out on top and maul is still causing problems all over the galaxy. its in a sith's nature to take their master's place. so it doesnt make much difference to dooku. in fact. he's glad for it. now he can carry out his grand plans for an ailing republic and show the order how far astray they've gone without palpatine looming over his shoulder.

anyway i dont really know where i'm going with this. i'd like to think she'd try for the chancellorship and fall down into the alure of power for the right reasons. what's the harm in using the ill gotten powers of palpatine's chancellorship if she's doing it for the greater good of the republic?

on the other hand, padme is just as likely to pack her shit up and grab anakin and leave as things continue to crumble. and when an empire forms as she'd predicted only with dooku at its head. she's far better prepared with her rebellion and less jedi die. more disaster control cus she probably wont be able to prevent the fall of the republic on her own

#padme amidala #anakin skywalker #star wars #me stuff #my plot bunnies #anidala #this is probably a little out of character for her

[wixenburr]

Batfam quotes taken from the group chat starboard

Tim, to Damian: I'm not going to talk twink logistics with you.

Tim: my social anxiety has me by the throat, like 24/7 Dick: Make out with it.

Tim: I'd kill a person before i drank hot water Jason: I'd kill a person.

Duke: I'm alright with being forgotten Actually

Dick, post-hallucinations: DREAM JASON IS A CHICKEN NUGGET

Dick: Thank you^^, it's because I'm insane—

Steph: First I get attacked by a butterfly in my dream and now this

Dick, post-killing joker: And plenty of gore and horror just for you!! <3 <3 Jason: :o JUST FOR ME?!

Bruce: How am i already an absentee father

Dick: spanish immersion until my cousin went back to his house and then it was english all the way down Tim: bisexual moment

Alfred: you know you have real kids when they ignore you :)

Steph: Atlantic Pacific Etc Sea Ocean Uhh

Dick: Ive never seen pineapple on a pizza, if i did id just be sad spongebob lost his home

(Bruce, having a breakdown) Tim, muffled: oh my god, i just ate that whole burger

Tim: Im sorry i slept

Cass: as an aroace pacifist fmk is a nightmare scenerio Jason: i may be asexual but i am sure as hell not a pacifist it's kill kill kill for me baby

Dick: No, Tim was gonna start killing people, there's a difference

Dick: wait no the flaky skin is on my face not my ass-

Alfred: what in the british archaelogist is happening here

Babs: I'm sorry i committed an actual war crime but its for y'alls own good

Damian: I don't need comfort, i need a knife

Bruce: I'm a firm believer in whore rights okay?

Steph: hELP- Duke: I'm eating spaghett Steph: what a simple life

Damian: Oh hi Batcow, finally someone interesting to talk to

Tim: I don't have depression, a therapist hasn't diagnosed me

anyone@Dick: noooo aha dont die sparkle butt

Damian: ive been god before

Bruce: i leave for two minutes and come back to octobussy

Tim: i am also killable if that makes you feel any better???

Babs: I support you with my eyes closed.

Dick: Instead im watching children with hot glue guns Damian: Like, in battle??? Dick: LIKE IN ARTS AND CRAFT

Steph: if i get a head injury i could probably read portuguese

Steph: love how we went in different directions Jason: The only directions: murder or pranks

Duke: I can't count that high so i'm-- i'm not gonna read that

Dick: punches him straight in the eye then immediately goes in for the kiss Tim: We call that the "Sock-n-Smooch"

Bruce: worm food can be eggs. scrambled ones. Damian: i dont lay eggs Bruce: chickens do?? Damian: oh. We have chickens!!!!

Tim: we have three hands for a reason

Damian: reEEEEeeeEEEEEEEEE Tim: Baby dinosaur be like Damian: I WILL BE A DINOSAUR BUT I WONT BE A B A B Y

Tim: shut up shut up shut up no you dont your bald + your mother is american

Jason: see, strangling people DOES bring miracles!

Tim: what in the minecraft commands are you trying to do here

Bonus:

Harley: mE AND MY CHECKERBOARD BOOBIES

Wally: Nightwing has two hands and a staff

#incorrect batfamily quotes #incorrect batman quotes #incorrect batboys quotes #incorrect batbros #incorrect batkids #batman #batfam #jason todd #bruce wayne #dick grayson #damian wayne #tim drake #barbara gordon #stephanie brown #cassandra cain #alfred pennyworth #incorrect quotes #incorrect dc quotes #incorrect batfam #group chat #quotes #my post

[goatfactsofficial]

Honestly, I consider my self "pro-israel" but still very critical about Bibis goverment, specially since fuckers like Gvir ad Smorvtich are in charge. I think that with Hamas finally gone and this fuckers either jailed for good or gone since they are actually hated by the Israeli population rn (The only reason they havent kicked them to kingdom come is because its the middle of a war) a good faith peace plan for both sides can be established with a third party of trust.

This being said, why the fuck do people root for Hamas? Ive seen this so called progressive even calling them 'resistance'. These fuckers are the main cause that palestinians are in the situation they are in. They use all the money they get from aid to try to attack israel, use their own population as shields because they dont care about them and indoctrictnated them to hate since children. Do they really want to leave them opressing Gazans like nothing happened after oct 7th? Because Ive havent seen any goverment willing to do this dirty work because, sadly, Hamas wont reliquinsh their "power" peacefully.

Honestly, in a past I considered my self pro-palestinian and pro-israel, at least publicly, but these loud minority of Hamasinks seemed to have hijacked a movement that started with good intentions. But sadly it appears that this minority is becoming the majority.

Is there anything that can be done to revert this? To alianeate these extremist from the reasonable voices?

First of all, hell of an anon to get. If you're baiting, nice job. Otherwise I'm going to assume this is a good faith ask. (Though I'm still confused as to why you asked me.) So re: why do people support Hamas. I'm assuming you're referring to the Pro-Pal Left that has reared its head since October 7th. Honestly I think it comes down to the privilege that almost everyone in the Imperial Core has: Freedom from War. These folks learned about War Crimes in highschool or whatever, never bothered to learn what they actually were and the how and why of their drafting, and now they hear about Israel bombing hospitals and they can't imagine any possible scenario where that could be justified. To these folks War is two armies marching at each other in block formations in an open field. And perhaps their only conception of Urban War is the civilian-less and consequence-free set pieces of modern warfare shooters. And it shows! I've seen people praising the Mujahideen in Gaza as brave and noble heroes for slapping the side of a Merkavah with a tandem charge RPG all while ignoring the fact that the person firing the RPG isn't wearing any sort of distinguishable uniform and are therefore committing the crime of perfidy. And it drives me insane because perfidy is such a fucking poisonous thing to do. Any action which erodes a belligerents ability to read actions in good faith is horrific, and actions like that are exactly what Hamas' strategy and tactics are based on and around. To break it down for the pissing on the poor crowd: 1: Hamas plans operation and bases soldiers in hospital 2: Israel bombs that hospital, whichever officer in charge has made the hard decision that the number of military casualties is worth the number of civilian collateral casualties, as well as damage to the hospital infrastructure. (THIS IS LEGAL AND NOT A WAR CRIME) 3: Hamas makes up death count and has their media corps play corpse jenga 4: useful idiots in the Imperial Core see that Israel bombed a hospital (no possible reason for doing that other than killing innocents!) and the 3000 years of antisemitism thats hardcoded into their brains kicks in and all the blood libel floods out. As for alienating the extremists from the moderates. I have no idea. Frankly I could care less about what Johnny Jihad or his leftist brownshirts care about Palestine or Israel or Jews or Palestinians. I give far more of a fuck in making the world a better place where I can. And that takes many forms. Including skipping out on my draft service because I didn't want to risk being a part of the apparatus that does in fact contribute to the oppression of Palestinians. What have any of these "Pro-Palestine" leftists ever done for the Palestinian cause that comes anywhere near that level of direct action?

#Goat Kvetch #ask box #jumblr #Israel/Palestine #Swords of Iron #Reaallly hoping this isn't bait to start harassing me. #also not to say that draftdodging is the ultimate act of propal liberation #more that I actually *HAVE* done something #unlike all these keyboard warriors harassing random Jews

[suffarustuffaru]

the suwen family is so fucking funny actually can you imagine their family gatherings. framir and mazeran suwen like “haha otto how was your trip to vollachia? 🥰 you know, the one we helped you and your friends with via illegal means 🥺 oh oops sorry we mean that we negotiated with each other to get that done like Proper Merchants. have we mentioned that we’re proud of you 🥺 dont get into too much war crimes over there!! we hear the political climate is a bit rough 😔” and ottos like “haha yeah it went great…” (it has not been going great). otto kicks regin under the table bc regin is once again doing drugs. framir and mazeran do not bat an eye and just go “regin your eyes are red we can tell youre a stoner already. those glasses are Not Hiding Anything 🥰 and otto lay off on the drinks, we already heard from Various Rumors that youre Dealing With Stuff like your weird little thing with natsuki subaru but that wont help 🥺”. oslo emerges from the other room and goes “hey otto may i ask what you did again bc the girl who tried to kill you just asked me out on a date AGAIN even though i rejected her like years ago. also theres more people here trying to kill you again” and framir and mazeran just go “oh. again? 😔😒🙄🥲 anyway everyone finish your food pls while we strategize on what to do next 🥰 cant resolve issues and ruthlessly obliterate your enemies on an empty stomach!!”. otto slams his head on the table. frufoo scolds him so loudly they can all hear her through the walls. regin is hugging his emotional support pet spider for dear life.

#rezero #re:zero #this is exaggerated slightly for comedic effect but like why are all of them insane. laughing #what little we do get of their family dynamic is real interesting. theyre all a bit unhinged which is hilarious tbh #and explains a Lot. #though oslo might just be the least unhinged one there but also he has Gotta be a little unhinged too given the rest of his family is just #like That

[beep-cares]

the black and white idea of morals is one of the most dangerous things. it is the reason that so many wars have been/are being fought.

for instance the israel-hamas war.

all over social media there is this idea that you must pick a side, israel or hamas. both are bigoted murderous organizations.

I am not going to pick between lying racist dictatorship and lying antisemitic dictatorship.

this idea of choosing a good side and bad side is why real ceasefires with proper requirements are not being put in place (several have been put in place recently, but each time one or both sides disregard it because the UN wont properly do it and then the other fights back). it is why people aren't focusing on demolishing these organizations and freeing the innocent civilians, but instead demolishing entire peoples, labeling them as "evil" despite no support for "their side"s crimes

Caring/Worrying for Israeli citizens≠Supporting Israel's government

Supporting palestinians≠Supporting Hamas

Hamas being bad≠Israel being good

Israel being bad≠Hamas being good

All of these statements are important, and without accepting them all, this war will end with a genocide on either or both sides.

As said, do not choose between being racist and being antisemitic. Instead, choose being anti-dictatorship, anti-war, and anti-genocide.

#jewish #antisemetism tw #hamas #hamas did not have to do any of this #israel #israel did not have to bomb gaza #israel palestine conflict #support innocent citizens #anti war #anti facist #anti dictatorship #social media #social justice #free them all #racisim #bigotry

[morganalefae]

s3 morgana being "beyond redemption" is soooooo crazy to me like yeah trying to kill the evil tyrant king whos been murdering every last one of your kind is sooooo evil lock her up and throw away the key!!

such a prime example of a kick the dog character too. like they cant condemn her for just fighting for her right to exist so they have her executing civilians and trying to have gwen executed to make her into the villian.

and! the same goes for morgause! literally what did she ever do wrong? uther conquered camelot (said by him in the episode where gili fights in the tournament) and then executed hundreds if not thousands of people with magic but morgause trying to kill the king is a step too far? why? its almost like the show is actually on uthers side 🤨🤨🤨🤨

which leads me to: the fact that we essentially watch the entire show through the pendragon perspective. merlin protects arthur so everything we learn about the purge and magic and the old religion is from uther/gaius. so, biased, to say the least. one of the most important things they tell you when researching history is to consider where your information is coming from and how that persons perspective influences their discussion of it.

which is why i also dont consider nimueh to be a villain. shes an activist! yeah she tried to kill arthur that one (?) time but he didnt even die so. doesnt count <3 but we SEE her having a conversation ALONE with uther where she says she didnt know what would happen to ygraine and i just cant imagine why she would lie. if she really wanted to hurt him she could have said she'd known and killed her on purpose but i dont think thats the case at all. she says she never would have helped him if she'd known what would happen. like, surprise, if you hunt and kill people for the crime of existing they will fight back and its not going to be the way you like it and innocent people will die. because thats war. you ruthlessly slaughter her people and she will slaughter yours.

worlds most unstructered post. professors hate her. anyway the show eventually starts to take on a very firm, "merlin has magic but ues not LIKE those other magic users therefore hes ok :) everyone else is evil tho. except the druids (sometimes :|)", whereby merlin using magic is only allowed if hes helping or saving arthur (except all those other times but we dont talk about those i guess) and his stance on magic eventually warps until hes just kind of horrible about it.

100% unpopular opinion but gaius should have died in s2 or 3. he influenced merlin far too much and basically never for the better. sorry to gaius lovers but i do NOT like that old man. he advises merlin EVERY time to not tell morgana about her magic (which she has no control over and therefore is manifesting in ways that will absolutely get her caught), to never help any of the unfairly persecuted people of the episode or even to use magic at all. hes a bootlicking coward who only helped people he cared for or when it suited him. how many people do you think he watched burn simply because he didnt agree with the way they used magic, whether it actually "evil" or not.

merlin's only friends who know about his magic are an old conservative man and a guy who dies right when merlin could have used the support of someone to help him "come out" to arthur about his magic.

im firmly of the opinion that had he told morgana about his magic everything would have been literally fine. because alone and with loterally no support system at all, is it any wonder that morgana would go down the road she did? after years of fear and watching people just like her be burned for the crime of existing, with no prophecy or friends to tell her that it wont always be this way. you dont have to be afraid because youre not the only one and i wont let anything happen to you. oh wait. she did get told that. by MORGAUSE. not about the prophecy but how can they be judged by trying to bring about change by themselves. by trying to kill a king whos killed so many of their own people.

if the intention of the show had been to give a poignant message about the cycle of abuse (morgana succumbing to bitterness and hatred just like uther) or how fear can control you (merlin eventually becoming essentially the bad guy, judging everybody who doesnt use magic the way he sees fit, staying silent and contributing to persecution of magic people because living in fear can make you paranoid and bitter (sound familiar?)) then i would applaud because wow did that make me fucking cry! and hit actually very close to home! and it was tragic and horrible but also inevitable

but as far as i can tell that was not at all the point, because in the end kilgharrah tells merlin the prophecy has been fulfilled, albion is united and magic returned! hurrah! but. um. did i miss something? when did that happen? oh, you mean when gwen is queen....? so.... gwen unites the land of albion and returns magic to the land? except, merlin seems to have lived on until the 21st century of our world and magic is not what i would call flourishing atm.

so i guess my question is... well actually i dont have a question. actually wait i do. what the fuck?

#whoops long and probably confusing post #oh well #merlin #bbc merlin #morgana pendragon #arthur pendragon #uther pendragon #merthur #gaius

[strangeauthor]

actually dear memers its not cool to constantly live through historical events cause half of the historical events are "hey so there are war crimes happening right before your eyes and your governments wont do anything about it. in fact most of them support it. oh whats that? you dont like that there are war crimes happening? well say goodbye to any future prospects you could've had!"

#author makes a speech

[sudaca-swag]

i think that from an international politics point of view its inevitable that we will start to see a decrease in israeli attacks these days bc 1) the US is apporaching its elections and Biden has become really unpopular as a supporter of the palestinian genocide, i genuinely think that with bombing Yemen yesterday he put the final nail in his coffin, i mean everyone can see that he did it just so two war weapons companies didnt lose their money ffs... 2) it tends to be a pattern in most wars, first they massively attack, kill and displace civilians thus setting the bases for future starvation, pandemics, crime, underdevelopment, destroying all governement institutions and basically forcing people into a chaotic state of survival instead of living, after all youre not really guilty of genocide if youre not directly bombing them theyre just dying by their own hand, right?, they did it in Irak, they did it in Syria, in Afghanistan, etc etc etc, and 3) israel might be standing on very thin ice after the bombing of borders with other countries, do you really think other states will risk israel and the US stepping into their territories, the very thing the israel state was created to ensure in the Middle East and which they have been fighting against forever? fuck no

i just wish that after this is over things wont revert back to how things were for palestinians before october 7th, real changes need to happen, palestinians have a right to exist and self govern themselves in their own land and israel must answer to their crimes, they cannot be allowed to keep having an ultramilitarized apartheid state based on living in a fake eternal war against civilians and the extermination of a whole culture

[davidmariottecomics]

New Job, Boom!

Hey friends, 

Going to be a short one this week, but I definitely didn't want to let it pass without saying a little something. If you haven't heard otherwise yet, I'm now working at BOOM! Studios! Once I can say more, I'm sure I will, but it's early, things aren't really announced beyond that, and there are other matters to turn your attention to. 

Announcements: It's the Global General Strike for Palestine! For the next week, people all over the world are striking from all sorts of regular activity to disrupt the economic systems supporting the destruction of Palestine and to put that time and energy into active protest movement. This is a pretty basic explainer of what you can do and know that doing anything is better than doing nothing, right? If you have to go to work, be visible. If you have to shop, be visible and thoughtful. If you have to rest, enjoy the things you already have. If you want to post, make it about what is happening. Current reports are estimating over 25,000 people have been murdered, with the death toll just going to keep rising between continued bombardments and the lack of resources. Over 60,000 people are wounded, 85% of the population has been displaced, and roughly 1 in 4 people is facing extreme hunger. No hospital is fully functional, for the ones that are still left standing. The IOF (Israeli Occupying Force) has admitted to exhuming graves, and have claimed it's to "find the hostages", but in the face of the other war crimes they've committed, it's hard to believe it wasn't vengeful malicious behavior to psychologically wound Palestinians as much as anything else. While we wait--possibly years--to find out if the International Court of Justice rules that Israel is in fact committing a genocide, people are going to continue dying from this. And so, hopefully, with a bit of concentrated disruption and pressure, this destruction that's already lasted 100+ days may finally find an end. 

In terms of using your power and time, I've mentioned it before, but you could call your representatives. Fax their offices. Email them. Contact the White House. Join actions from organizations like Jewish Voice for Peace, American Muslims for Palestine, the Democratic Socialists of America, and be sure to focus your boycotts (during the strike and generally) on the businesses called out by BDS. You can take some time to read through Verso's Solidarity with Palestine reading list. Make signs for if you're going out protesting, to put in your windows, or coordinate outfits in Palestinian flag colors that show your solidarity. Make sure you're keeping an eye out for local events. If you see art installations, share them, and, yeah, that includes graffiti that bears the message. Let Palestinians take the lead in the global conversation on social media and if you see, say, your reps talking about other things, flood them with calls for a ceasefire in the replies. 

If spending money brings you any comfort and you feel a need to put something into good practice, the Cartoonist Cooperative's page still lists a ton of resources for E-Sim cards.Bisan mentioned today that E-Sims are helpful, but their use is becoming more limited as the overall infrastructure has been so damaged that you need to be in a high place to use them. 

Again, do what you can.  

What I enjoyed this week: Nancy (Comic), Yu-Gi-Oh: Duel Links (Video Game), Baldur's Gate III (Video Game), Blank Check (Podcast), Dungeons & Daddies (Podcast), How to Read Nancy (Book), Ted Lasso (TV show), my new big Taschen Ads of the 80s book, Movie Flick Chick Vol. 1 by BonerBob (Adult Comic), The Traitors Season 2 (TV show), The Floor (TV show), having a new phone and slowly getting back up to speed with it, seeing some stuff I had been working on at the old job get announced.

Pic of the Week: As I've been wont to do recently, I've made a little promo image with my announcement, so that's here, but my real pic of the week is this amazing photo of Nadja. She was in the chair sleeping and I went to move the Hello Kitty and I put it on top of her and she didn't move at all! It was very cute. 

#comics #comics editorial #free gaza #free palestine #ceasefire now #strike for palestine #global strike

[foreverfairytailfan]

🚨RANNT ABOUT FAIRY TAIL HATE INCOMINGGGG🚨

Long rant. Like LONG long. Feel free to scroll on by but I seriously needed this off my chest so just be prepared if you decide to read it💀 also not trying to (and wont with all due respect) debate with anyone about the things I’ve mentioned below, this is just purely how I feel inside atm, plus it’s super sloppy and emotionally charged; I would’ve done a much better job at talking if it was a debate post, but it’s not lol. Debating stuff about FT can always happen another time on another day so hopefully this post isn’t misunderstood to be starting something, just a simple rant :) okaythanksforyourtimehaveagoodday

Mentions of death, as well as murder/killing

——————

ARGH THESE FAIRY TAIL HATERS GET ON MY NERVES SOMETIMES FOR REAL! LIKE I GET PERSONAL PREFERENCES BUT THEY HATE OVER THE MOST STUPIDEST THINGS ABOUT IT!!

One thing I always see people complain about is how Fairy Tail hardly has any killings. First of all, wtf??? How have we become so desensitized that we want to see innocent characters to die? Like I get it contributes to good story telling by expressing the emotional process of it all, and I certainly know I’m not immune to a good and gripping character death when it’s done right, but come on do we really need to have people dying left and right ALL THE TIME?? If the story has to have so many deaths 24/7 to make it a good story, is it really a good story?

Second, there was in fact death in Fairy Tail; it’s just not enough death for people to mention apparently?? While the deaths are rare in FT, when they happen I think it hits harder, and it makes it much more personal because it’s not a normal occurrence. It affects you on a deeper level because you weren’t expecting it already, you know? It shows us that death shouldn’t be taken lightly.

Third, death is not gonna happen frequently for Fairy Tail. Why? BECAUSE THEY ARENT ACTIVELY FIGHTING CRIME!! THEY ARE NOT A GUILD ABOUT FIGHTING PEOPLE!!! They. are. not. superheros!! They are a magic guild that cares about family, their town and townspeople, and supporting one another. They always try keep the violence to themselves (aka roughhousing) and taking jobs that can have potential battles involved.

They don’t ask to be dragged into shit like guild wars, fighting literal dragons and crazies, and life threatening forces! They fight because they’re good people who want to protect the ones they love, innocents, and their planet. This is not a shonen about killing their enemies and bathing in their blood and victory, all they want is to have peace and fun with each other. There is more to the story than death. There are multiple tragic things that happen in the series that are just as heartbreaking as a death.

It’s a feel good series that doesn’t focus on the deep negatives, but how people overcome said negatives and use the power of the love for their found family to fight for what’s right. You say it’s a surface level series, but the truth is your not willing to look deeper under it because you can’t be bothered to see there is more to a series than many deaths, killings, etc.

there are so many shows and mangas like FT that don’t get a quarter of hate like FT does and I just think it’s incredibly stupid and unfair to target a show over petty reasons such as LACK OF DEATH?? It’s a wonderful show that is supposed to cheer you up and make you feel happy, why can’t we just have a series that’s exactly like that and still be considered a good story? And yes, Fairy Tail isn’t perfect; no series is. It has its flaws just like any other shonen.

My point is that FT is picked on way too much for reasons that other anime’s display as well, and that there’s a lot of hypocrisy in FT haters. I never understood why Fairy Tail was the scapegoat for all the hate when their favorite shows and mangas do the exact same thing! If Fairy Tail isn’t what you’re looking for, then move on without shitting on it.

The people of Fairy Tail are extremely important to me, as cheesy and cringe as that sounds. They raised me, taught me lessons that I still hold dear to my heart to this day. It has picked me up in times of need while still being able to evoke strong emotions from me. It just gets under my skin when so many people either pick it apart and don’t bother to dig deeper behind the meaning of it, or just sexualize the characters constantly without paying attention to the valuable lessons we could be learning from them instead.

I know it’s just a show/series at the end of the day, and I shouldn’t let it bother me this much; but I can’t help it, the characters are like family to me and have helped me process many emotions and gotten me through dark times. I just think if you’re gonna hate, you should do your research first and then come back with plausible reasons. I respect all opinions (as long as it doesn’t hurt others) and I never try to say that they’re wrong and I’m right blahblahblah because we all have our own preferences and that should be celebrated, as well as be able to have the right to express them; but let’s not over do it with hate outloud and in the open where people can be affected by the hurtful things you say.

#fairy tail #fairy tail rant #emotionally charged rant so don’t take it too seriously lol #sorry for the long post lol #rant #Im tired now lol #anime rant #have a good day friends #:)

[noa-ciharu]

I'm not sure if this would reach anyone but I'll vent anyways. I'm worried my country will go full right-wing censorship under crusade of "protect the children"

There have been 2 mass shooting in Serbia (country of around 6 million) last week as well as alot of other violent acts like few cases of stabbing and people are protesting against violence. Which should be a good thing - if they weren't asking for censorship of various mainstream TV channels, reality programs and Tiktok. They full blame those as well as "westernization" for violence in kids instead of own inability to parent their children correctly. Like it's not the same country that wont admit its 90s war crimes and supports Ukrainian invasion (not all people ofc, but I've seen far too many for my sanity)

There was a case where middle schooler made a tiktok where shes making fun of shooting victims and she and her parents been brought in for questioning and parents were charged for promoting violence or something. Like yea, dick move really plus very disrespectful to the victims but why did police get involved? Full satanic panic took over society, there are people getting fired and having their names dragged through media solely cuz they have pics with firearms on social media. And don't get me started about guilty tripping on social media and so called mourning days where you can get fined if you as much as get reported to be celebrating anything (yes, even playing music outloud in own house)

Don't get me wrong, there definitely are bad things on tiktok, some TV channels that influence kids in bad ways but it should be parents job to raise their kids, not society's. I'm fully against censorship, even of those medias I wouldn't touch with 3 meter stick. Cuz if you give them a finger they'd take the whole hand: oke crude media is first? What's is next? Anything with a bit of violence? Queer media? Any criticism of politics? Full on police state? Give me a break.

Maybe when society stops being nationalist, xenophobia, LGBT-phobic conservative at large maybe then kids wouldn't inherit same hateful traits from their parents. But I guess teaching tolerance and compassion never crossed anyone's mind

#anti censorship #anti violence #tw nationalism #tw homophobia #idk how to even tag this #just me venting #tbf id support anyone who is against violence in a heartbeat if they didn't want censorship and balmed west for what are obviously problems #of our country itself