#I’m insane about the Iliad again

[quidam-sirenae]

The thing about the Iliad is all the men are undeniably gentle. They’re warriors and they’re killers and yes, the blood doesn’t phase them, But they’re also gentle. It’s why we see Hector playing with his son, Achilles crying with Priam, Odysseus being referred to not as the son of Laertes but as the father of Telemachus. Homer wants us to know that these boys were not warriors from birth, they were thrust into it unwillingly and though they’re good at it and they want the glory, they’re people at the end of the day and they love more then they hate. Hector and was it Menelaus? Book 5? exchange gifts! Diomedes and glaucus exchange armor! These men are gentle and they do not want to be fighting and they are good at it but they do not love battle, that’s not why they’re heroes. They’re heroes because they are all fighting for someone at the end of it, not something. Because at the end of the day, it’s about the people they love because they are not warriors at heart. The war is about Helen and it’s about glory, but it’s also about Penelope and Andromache and Priam and peleus and all the families of the warriors. Which is why the Iliad has survived this long.

[foreststarflaime]

Brainrotting about the nuance of the Am I a Monster dilemma in Crisis Core again (sorry if any of this is rambling I have been awake for over 20 hours on 4 hours of sleep bc my brain is stupid and refuses to let me get adequate sleep)

I find it’s somewhat easy to forget about the literal definition of the word in this context, at least for me because I want these idiots to stop self-destructing and live happy lives—but in older cultures especially (and here I’ll talk from the Ancient Greek side of things bc it’s what I’m most familiar with) the definition of monster is very literally just something that goes against the natural order of things, usually hybrids of different animals smashed together, like a chimera being a lion, goat, and snake in one body or a sphynx being a winged lion-woman. And in that sense, it’s unavoidable that they are right in calling themselves monsters.

But when the word monster gets brought up in a moral sense, in the context of what it means to be human, as we see so often these days (not saying no ancient authors ever did this or vice versa, it’s just more prevalent in more modern times from what comes to mind immediately for me), it’s not about the literal, it’s about the metaphorical, about the choices you make and how you choose to live your life. And in this sense (at least before their respective insanity arcs) they aren’t really monsters, they’re just people trying their best.

And I love how this duality plays out when each of them find out about the horrific experiments that have been done on them and the crisis starts.

Starting with Genesis—his is a character very connected to the first definition of monster, considering his love of Loveless, which seems to be an ancient epic of the cultural kind of the Iliad or the Odyssey (plus, as I’ve mentioned before, his last name in Greek literally means singer of epic poetry). So, if the Greek definition is foremost in his mind, it does make sense that he can’t shake the thought that he is a monster and have a mental breakdown as such. It makes sense that he fell first.

Then we have Angeal, also more closely tied to the first definition of monster, if we look at it in the older vs newer way—he’s a character very tied to tradition and honor, so it would make sense. Plus if you don’t buy that, then there’s the fact that he’s known Genesis all his life, so at least some of his thinking had to have worn off on him at some point. He also wouldn’t be able to shake the thought that he isn’t really entirely human, and of course he’d be bothered by it, having tied his worldview so tightly to upholding human morals and values—it makes sense he fell as hard as he did.

Now, saving Sephiroth for a bit longer, let’s look at Zack’s reaction to all of this. He definitely sees this dilemma from the point of view of the second definition of monster, as we see blatantly in the writing—see “SOLDIER doesn’t mean monster”, etc. He’s the youngest, the puppy, the idealist loyal to his friends until the end. He tries to impart this onto his friends, and although they do understand this on some level, it’s not enough to overpower the other definition of a monster in their minds, and therein lies the tragedy.

And then with Sephiroth, to exacerbate the tragedy of what he could have become even further, he’s pretty evenly tied to both definitions. He has distinctly inhuman features, which would bring the literal definition of monster to his mind, and his ‘mother’ is a 2000 year old alien. So no, he’s not entirely human, not literally anyways. But he’s also so, so human in all the ways that matter, at least before he went insane, and I think he’s aware of this too, at least enough to hold on to the desperate hope that this is true, and that having just a little bit of compassion makes the difference. But in Nibelheim, the weights keep dropping in the literally-a-monster side of the scale, and he judges himself unworthy, and the rest is history.

[darlingpoppet]

What inspired you to start Where The Dead Forget? Also can you tell us some more about your PZA Dreamers AU? (e.g. what your favourite thing to write has been so far, things you look forward to or struggle with, or anything else you like). Thanks!

As for WTDF, honestly it pretty much all started with this tweet where I expressed interest in the concept of Patroclus Hadesgame losing his memories. I had seen such fanarts already so I was curious if there were fics out there too (there are of course! I have since found some, lol!) But a friend in the comments was encouraging to the notion of me writing one myself and I pretty much immediately began spiraling from there (I tweeted this the same day I posted Once More and also about a week before I posted Upon A Lazy Bed, so at the time my brain was on fire and I was constantly brimming with ideas!) The entire story from beginning to end pretty much came to me immediately and I’ve been expanding on it ever since! A lot of my inspiration has been fueled by the experience of consuming every depiction of Achilles & Patroclus I could get my hands on, as well as countless academic writings with various analyses on the characters. Also just the entire meta tradition of storytelling with folklore characters in general, where there’s no one “definitive version”, and thinking about how that might work in-universe where things like memories, bias, human fallibility, etc make objective truth difficult or impossible to obtain. Films such as Rashomon and Eternal Sunshine Of The Spotless Mind that explore similar concepts to WTDF also inspired me!

As for the PZA Dreamers AU!! I can’t remember if I’ve ever properly explained the concept in a public post but for anyone curious: the whole thing was born out of me seeing a parallel/synergy between the themes of the film The Dreamers and certain interpretations of the Iliad (the Homeric version itself ofc but also particularly Shakespeare’s Troilus & Cressida.) The characters in these stories exist in this symbolic & narrative liminal space where they’re shutting themselves off from the outside world so they can Live Laugh Love—and in all the stories, reality catches up with them eventually, usually in tragic ways. I’m making it a modern AU (a vaguely 2010s period piece?) because as a millennial I also see parallels to my generation (& Gen Z) where as a whole our own lives also seem to be stuck in a figurative liminal space academically, economically, socially (especially in the era of covid where we were all shut-up in our houses finding there was more to life than The Grind, simultaneously reveling in simple pleasures & also going insane from the ambiguity of it all until we were all forced back out again) And at the same time our generations have this fascination with liminal spaces as an Internet meme (including vaporwave which also coincidentally appropriates classical Greco-Roman imagery in its aesthetics.) I’m reading serious non-fiction books like Capitalist Realism by Mark Fisher and Retromania by Simon Reynolds in service of what at the end of the day is just a horny fanfic LMFAO.

Because getting back on track to what you actually asked me: I’m not gonna lie, my favorite parts of writing this story so far have been the sex scenes, haha. Like the whole vibe of the story is supposed to be just this completely unfettered dreamy indulgence, and even things like sex have a liminal quality to me (where time seems to stand still and people are joined together transitioning through several physical states) hopefully I’ll be able to pull the whole thing off the way I’m envisioning it! The fact that it’s a modern AU is probably what makes this both easier and harder to write—things like dialogue can have a more modern sensibility but it’s probably the more flowery prose that’s giving WTDF its own dreamy, liminal quality so it’s tricky figuring out how to balance it. I’m also having a hard time deciding whether I want to dump this entire high-concept, novella-length story as a one-shot (or at least split up into 2-3 parts that are published all at once) or if I should stick to a more traditional (for fanfic) serialized publication schedule ahahaha. I guess if anyone reading this has any preferences or insight feel free to let me know your thoughts!

Oh and as for the PZA of it all: writing Closest To My Heart was probably what reminded me of the existence of The Dreamers in the first place (I had seen it years and years ago) because I realized that film has a similar dynamic of an “outsider” falling into an erotic triangle with a pair who are essentially soulmates, and ends up biting off a little more than he can chew in keeping up with the two of them… I decided I wasn’t quite done exploring that dynamic and I wanted to write about it more! Though don’t worry, I don’t think this story is gonna be quite as dark as Closest (uh oh wait this might be a lie actually), and also Patrochilles are MUCH nicer to Zag in this story ;)

(Also I didn’t even mention Hadesgame itself where the entire underworld is a liminal space Zagreus passes through to reach the surface/self-actualization and how he is constantly dying/resurrecting… Zagreus is a very liminal character! But this is already an ETA so I shall leave my thoughts there for now, lol.)

Hopefully all that answers your questions, anon! Thanks so much for the ask <3

[hyunverse]

ooooo that’s nice !!! currently doing my chores listening to music as well, we’re twinning how cute ^_^. kimchi ramen sounds so good rn 😩. i had our fave for breakfast, sushiiiiii!!! i got cucumber avocado bc they had no salmon and it was delishhhh. call me angel again and watch me sob <///3. you’re too cute it hurts my heart, KISSESSSS 💗💗. i rly do love your writing and the angst just hits every time. so i am very much looking forward to wtvr comes out next hehe

OMFG PLS DO ASSIGN THEM MYTHOLOGY TALES I WILL LOSE MY MINDDDDDDD !!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! if you do it my one request will be the sirens story when the sirens lured the sailors into dying LMAO that would be so perfect w any of them. danceracha perhaps ???that’s my fave mythology tale tho 😋😋. what’s yours? i’m curious ^_^

yep yep yep you get it ! it’s too tempting. i will forever say that money does in fact buy happiness bc money provides me w everything that makes me happy so 😇. and it really is always thursday’s 😭. my mom was just being rly unkind and stuff <////3. im pretty used to it atp but for some reason everything she was saying was just like ouchhhhhh yk ?? i’m slowly getting over it tho until the next event happens lol 🙏🏼 thank you for being here for me love :((. just talking to you and reading your stuff makes me so happy. it’s nice to know someone cares about what i have to say so i rly enjoy interacting w you :)) AND skz comeback rly helps pull through LOL, i agree they’re all doing these comebacks too fast bc what about our bank accounts skz 💔💔💔

MINHO PICSSSS grrrr i adore you 😠😠. he’s so cute that just made me smile sm ily :(( but yes new rachavlog had me smiling NONSTOP through the whole video, seeing them happy and seeing chan relax for once just makes my heart full. hyunjins outfit ALONE was so bf. and him taking over the cooking and all that at the restaurant ??? HUSBAND ENERGYYYYYYYYY he is so boyfie. tempted to write hyunjin fluff lately bc he’s just so dreamy and it makes me insane 😇😇

- 🐈‍⬛ the spamming has began again pls forgive 😔🙏🏼 hugs hugs hugs

kimchi ramen always!!! either that or the buldak ramen. god i’ve been eating instant noodles daily due to the fact that it’s ramadan and the campus cafes are closed </3 on my period rn so i can’t fast hehe. maybe i shud order some real food tmr instead zzzz. sushi sounds so good rn 😭 if only there were sushi restaurants near my campus, i would order some tomorrow ☹️ but there aren’t ☹️ dislike living in a small village, i can’t cope!!!

i will call you my angel all the time then because you are indeed my angel <3 the angel-est of them all!! truly!! sneak peek: another drabble of mine will be based on the musical tick tick boom!! angst <3 again <3

wait idk the sailor myth that ure talking abt omg 💔 will look up into it 🤝 mmm lemme try assigning them myths... i feel like the tale of orpheus and eurydice gives off so much hyunjin. being deeply in love and being overtaken by despair just feels hyunjin, yk? that’s all i could think of rn T_T my fav myth is the entire the iliad story!! it’s so interesting to me. i think achilles is a very interesting character. huge angst potential too.

naw, baby :( ‘m sorry to hear that. sending u affection to compensate for the unkind words. you’re absolutely perfect the way you are, and ‘m proud of you!! thank you for merely existing, and i’m proud that you’re doing the best you could right now. you deserve so many good things ♡ i haven’t even met you or known you deeply but just by the things we’ve talked about, i can tell that you’re an incredible individual. you’re attentive, a great mood-maker, a joy to be around and kind. you make my days brighter. thank you for sticking around ♡

i’m planning to preorder for their next comeback (we are looking past my sad bank account) so ngl hopefully it’s not anytime too soon LOLLLL. maybe after eid bcs i’ll have eid money by then 😈 i’ll be free to spend money on their albums LOL.

and i adore you too, my angel!! pls write the hyune fluff i am on my knees begging 🙏 hyune fluff supremacy!! yes his outfit was so boyfriend <3 i loved seeing all of them unwind. the way jisung bowled too like he fr rolled the ball down </3 sucha jisung thing to do. i wanna go to a barbecue with hyunjin just to sit still look pretty and let him do the cooking 🧘‍♀ he looks so hubby that way. imagine going to a hotpot place with him too OHHH I’M DELUSIONAL ‼️

i adore the spamming so don’t u worry my love!!! kisses and hugs for u angel <333

[spiltscribbles]

Worth It

~Notes: Oof, I know I have so many prompts in my inbox and I appreciate them so much! But I wanted to write something after dinner in dedication and a gift to the lovely Remus-John-Lupin!!!!!!!<3<3<3 I love you RJ and I appreciate you and your friendship so fucking much, so this is just a strange little gift from me to you in thanks for how kind you’ve always been to me since I joined this crazy fandom, ILY and you’re my favorite slag!!!!

.-

Sirius silently reminds himself that he in fact likes Lily, he thinks she’s a total knock out and is happy that his brother is finally getting to date the girl of his dreams. He likes her damn it,! And one does not commit battery to folks that they like.

Assured that his pure irritation won’t bleed through his words, Sirius tries again in his most charming of inflections. “All I want is his number.”

“No,” she repeats, casually steadfast while poking at her salad— Not even bothering to flick her gaze up at an increasingly irate Sirius.

“Why are you being so fucking difficult!”

“Why are you still bitching about this,” she counters, finally giving him her undivided attention, even if it’s her glaring at him like she’d like to skewer Sirius on a stick.

“Hey guys, let’s chill.” James tries to mediate, laughing awkwardly between the pair of them, hand raised in concession and glasses going a bit skewed.

They promptly ignore him.

“I like him. What is so difficult to understand Evans? Aren’t you like supposed to be some brainiac or some shit?”

“It’s been like two months Black,” she says pointedly, grip on her fork tightening while her mouth curls unpleasantly. “That’s way past your ordinary infatuations, so why the hell do you still even care.”

Sirius bares his teeth, pinning her with a glower that once made an old school yard bully of Regulus’s actually piss his pants. So of course Lily doesn’t even flinch. “He’s cute.”

“You’re a dog.”

“You’re being a total ass.”

“And you’re a bastard.”

“But you love me though.”

“Just barely.”

“So you’ll give me Remus’s number?”

“Dream on.” she says with a lofty sniff and haughty flip of the hair, discarding her barely eaten lunch before swaggering over to where a group of her friends from the STEM club are sat, including Alice Flores and Dorcas Meadowes. 

“Guess you’re back to square one Pads.” James says, unhelpful as fuck, so Sirius only flips him off before snatching back his calculus homework from a pitiful looking Peter.

“Fuck this.”

.-

Sirius thinks of himself as a reasonable sort of guy.

He isn’t one for holding grudges or obsessing over perceived slights. He’s brilliant whether he’s playing linebacker on the field or taking a exam in class.

For fuck’s sake, Sirius  can be plumped down in any and all social situations without warning, and can have the room eating out the palm of his hand within the first five minutes.

In layman’s terms, he’s decent and driven and downright charismatic. Mix this all together, and well Sirius thinks he’s a pretty fantastic fucking package— if he does say so himself. He can have his pick of the lot, truly. Especially when walking down the halls flocked by his best friend turned second brother on one end and little Petey, who’s a great hype man, on the other. So its only poetic justice that the one person who’s been able to swallow up all his attention is the one person who doesn’t even give him a second glance most days.

And that’s fucking ridiculous.

This is ridiculous! He is fucking ridiculous! No, record scratch. Remus fucking Lupin is the most ridiculous part of this all!

Remus lupin with his delightfully disheveled hair the color of gold and his crooked grin that’s everything darling in the world, and his big doe eyes that sometimes flare with green specs when he’s especially passionate in class or when he’s chatting with Lily in the halls. Remus lupin who’s only just moved here to Murray Hill from a small town in southern Illinois and who toppled Sirius’s world upside-down while he was at it. 

The first time they met was completely on accident.

It was the week before classes began, and Sirius had only just come back from his family trip to their villa in Rome, and he was only meant to meet James at the coffee shop that Lily was working at now. They were suppose to head to the city and go out drinking to celebrate the start of their senior year.  Sirius was suppose to find a nice, college aged girl to fuck because he’s given up on the boring lot that infests Hogwarts these days. It was suppose to be easy and fun and he was suppose to stay stringless and unattached as ever.

But that didn’t happen.

Instead, Sirius walked into the Howling Moon  and was met by the sight of the most lovely, most gorgeous boy he’s ever met. Hand to God, it felt like one of those slow motion moments in a Romantic Comedy when the disgruntled, wayward lead first sets their eyes on that love interest— the one to out shine all others, the one  who turns everything inside out and makes it all glitter gold.

“Hey there,” Remus had grinned like the fucking sun, slipping the pen from his ear and hand poised over the cups lining the counter. “What can I get ya?”

“Oh, erm— Yeah. Just a caramel macchiato, iced.”Sirius’s ordinarily smooth baritone almost fucking cracked while ordering, and Remus’s beautiful eyes had glittered.

“Would’ve taken you for a dark roast sort of guy.” He said, and Sirius swears that it was playful and flirtatious and a little mischievous too. 

Sirius was in love.

“I’ve been known to partake in sweets, you know, if they catch my eye,” he replied, eyes lingering meaningfully up and down Remus’s slighter frame.

“What a come on,” Remus had laughed, head thrown back to show off his long neck and Sirius was so fucking gobsmacked at how it quite literally sounded like all the most splendid instruments woven together.

He had ducked his head, so unordinary bashful but so beyond pleased. “What can I say beautiful, you bring it out of me.”

“”Cute.” Remus had chuckled, cheeks going a fetching red and scribbling down the order. “Definitely one of the more interesting one liners I’ve gotten today.”

Sirius ignored the flare of jealousy over that, considering that he hasn’t gotten to even kiss him yet, and he should probably take this slow if he doesn’t want to screw it up. “Has anyone of those bastards mentioned how your eyes put the brownies on sale to shame?”

“No one as hot as you if I’m being honest,” Remus retorted, ringing him up and sinking his teeth into his plump bottom lip. And fuck, Sirius knew he was in trouble from then on.

They had talked for over half an hour about nothing at all in that tiny bistro while Remus was busy exchanging the coffee pots for a fresh batch and rearranging the baked goods, and it was amazing.

 Sirius has always been someone who couldn’t sit still, who had to be fluttering all over the place to feel like he was actually headed somewhere, like he was getting something finished. But for the first time in too long, just sitting there, still and silent and besotted while Remus chatted about his hometown and moving half way across the country and his eccentric mother— Well Sirius felt completely balanced, completely calm. He felt like just as long as Remus was their chatting with him and smiling in that beguiling way of his, that Sirius could actually breathe without pressure. Like he knew what it meant to have a center.

So of course, right when he decided that he was going to snatch him up— to ask him out on a date before anyone else from their shitty class filled with degenerates and dick heads could— Lily of all people  had swaggered in, and gave him a caustic sort of glower that plainly said, keep the fuck away.

Ordinarily Sirius would’ve completely ignored her warning, would’ve unashamedly and excitedly chased after the cutest fucking boy he’s ever laid his eyes on with an absurd sort of zeal. But he under estimated just how much sway Lily was able to cater with Remus in the few weeks they worked with one another before he had met him. So instead of starting off the year with a brand new, insanely pretty boyfriend wrapped around one arm, Sirius has just spent the past nine weeks pining like a fucking love sick loser. Like he was starring in some cheesy John Hughes movie from the damn 80s!

And this will not do, this is not all right, not okay at all.

Sirius needs to figure out a way to get close to Remus, and outside of Lily’s overbearing claws. Something that only Remus likes, that Sirius can partake in to prove himself worthy.

As he promenades down the hall towards his free period, Sirius creates a mental check list of the things he knows Remus enjoys.

Remus enjoys poetry, and Sirius knows that he’s part of the school’s award winning Forensics team. But they meet during the football practices so Sirius couldn’t even try to impress him in that arena until the spring. He also knows that Remus likes history, that he’s going to end up majoring in classics in University, but Sirius really doubts his ability to memorize the Iliad in the matter of a few hours— He’s good, but not that good.

“Jesus fuck is this hard,” he mutters nastily to himself, tugging at the ends of his dark hair before ramming straight into a display outside the southern wing of their preparatory school’s building.

He winces, not so much for the throbbing in his toes, but because of Marlene’s snappish attitude when he makes it so that the table shakes.

“Keep your head out your ass Black,” she scolds before going back to filing her nails. And Sirius is about to snipe right back at her— That is until he catches on the bright poster adorned with small rainbows and the words, GSA FOOD DRIVE spelt out in large lettering.

And oh!

“Eureka!”

“Pardon?” Marlene asks, nose wrinkled indelicately as she eyes him like he’s about to puke on her brand new Doc Martens again like last weekend. Holy shit, she should really get over it by now.

But Sirius is smart enough and tactful enough not to mention his thoughts on the matter, only smiles down at her with pure elation. “Marls, what if I said I had a brilliant idea to help our lovely GSA.”

“I’d accuse you to only doing it to try and get in Lupin’s pants since he’s our new VP.”

Sirius grapples for his chest, feigning indignant. “You pain me my old friend.”

Marlene snorts. “Tell me I’m wrong.”

“That’s neither here nor there.”

“So are your chances with Lupin.”

“You’re a sick fuck McKinnon.”

“What do you want from me you gnat.”

“Let me help with the fundraiser.”

“What’s in it for me?”

“I’ll tell Lily to get Meadowes to notice you?”

Marlene glares at him now. “We’ve been fucking for like a month you prick.”

“Oh— Erm, then for some of that good old Bi unity?”

Marlene suddenly looks so very shrewd and Sirius hates how every fucking woman in his life could eat him whole for breakfast. “Absolutely not.”

“Fine, what the fuck do you want.”

“You cover Fabian’s costs for the goods  when we go to that rave for 2KBABY in January.”

“Eh, didn’t you guys use to fuck?”

“Yes. But I don’t see the connection?”

“He won’t even give you a discount on the good shit?”

“Oh he does,” she leers, blue eyes glinting wickedly in the hallway light. “But I’d rather see you pay full price for’m.”

Sirius glares down at her, and repeats himself.  “You. Are. A. Sick. Fuck.”

Marlene just lies back in her seat and returns to manicuring her nails. “Well if cheekbones isn’t worth the bother?”

“Fine,” Sirius all but growls out. “But we do this my way.”

“Scout’s honor handsome,” she absolutely beams, and Sirius reminds himself that this is all for Remus and that’s worth it at the end of the day.

.-

It’s a week later, right before Thanksgiving break hits, and Sirius is sat in front of the cafeteria, smirking at the line of mostly pink faced girls and a few others amongst their midst, who have all queued up in front of him. A dollar in each of their hands, though he does see that a few have fives and even tens or more, and he doesn’t know how to subtly tell them that all he’s promising is a quick peck of his lips, and absolutely no other groping— including of his legendary ass or admittedly perfect abs.

“You’re just really enjoying yourself, aren’t you.” James hisses besides him after the latest girl— a blonde sophomore who’s decked out in Lulu Lemon for their only non uniform day of the week— scurries off. “Just a ego trip.”

“Jealous Jamie darling?” Sirius boasts, tipping back on his chair while Marlene collects the cash from the next five in line so that they can clammer closer towards him.

“I can’t believe all of them want to kiss you,” Peter marvels, round eyes completely in aw. 

“I can’t believe you think this is how to get Remus’s attention,” Lily interjects huffily, lips set in a moody pout while perched on James’s lap to Sirius’s left.

“I bet you would’ve been in line if you weren’t dating Jamie here.” Sirius counters, smug as all get out, and laughing when all Lily deigns as a adequate response is her middle finger.

Sirius is on cloud nine. He can’t believe he didn’t think of this sooner! Remus loves all this shit, from the club to the charity. This is perfect! This basically guarantees that he’ll finally get a good smooch on him. And once their lips finally  touch, Remus will surely feel the swarm of butterflies in his gut just like in those Harleyquin romance novels his cousin Narcissa would always read with a dreamy look on her face during their various Family vacations.

“You’re not gonna get him this way.”

“He’s not gonna know what hit’m Evans,” Sirius retorts, completely self assured.

.-

One should never bet against Lily Marie Evans.

Sirius knows this now. But he still hates it with the passion of a thousand burning suns.

By the end of the lunch hour, Sirius’s earned over sixty bucks to the GSA’s fundraiser fund, and absolutely zero potential boyfriends who look like golden angels and make Sirius’s knees weak.

“I told you,” Lily says in that sing-song sort of voice that is so not appreciated right now. “Remus is not the type to kiss you in front of a huge crowd and after like a bunch of others. That’s not his style.”

Sirius is moody as all get out, and he’s irritated that he’s just wasted five dozen perfectly fine kisses on folks who aren’t Remus, so he doesn’t bother to hide his irritation when he gripes back at her, “Then tell me what the fuck is his style.”

Miraculously, that actually proved enough to get Lily to slow down her stroll, and cock her head curiously at him. “You actually care.”

“What the fuck have I been trying to tell you Evans!” He nearly shouts.

“I just thought— You know. That it was a game.”

Sirius’s face goes stoney, and he juts his chin away from her. “It’s not always a fucking game, all right. It’s not a game with him— I like him. I like Remus.”

“Oh,” Lily says very quietly, her face pulled in a thousand different directions before settling on something akin to solemn. “You should go to the music room for your free period today.”

Sirius quirks a brow at her, frowning while he asks, “Why?”

“Just trust me S,” she says, reaching over her hand to squeeze his forearm.

Sirius watches her walk off, hand in hand with James, and he feels a strange twisting to his heart when he imagines a very similar image— only with him and Remus and punctuated by plenty of kisses to the cheek, and jawline and lips too.

.-

The music room is towards the back of the school, in a separate building along with the theatre and main auditorium.

The early autumnal chill lashes against Sirius’s face while he makes the track to the room, continuously chanting to himself that he actually trusts Lily and this is gonna be worth it if there’s a merciful God up there.

Once Sirius clammers in doors, he rubs his cold hands together, and shakes out his hair. 

The first thing he hears is the soft strumming of a guitar, and finds himself in front of the music room after following its melodic toon. 

Through the window he can spot the form of Remus bent over the instrument, his thick curls getting in his eyes and his steady hands plucking a few chords as he sits cross legged atop the piano.

Sirius feels his heart lodging in his throat at the sight of him, so beautiful and perfect and warm looking in that scarlet sweater. And he knows in his bones that this is some sort of unspoken blessing that Lily’s given him, so with a deep breath, Sirius opens the door and strolls in.

Remus starts slightly, going flushed once his eyes catch on Sirius’s own.

“Oh Sirius,” he greets, the corners of his mouth tipping into a smile that doesn’t ring true. “You pulled away from the haram?”

“That’s a bit much? Calling them a haram,” Sirius says cooly, hitching up besides him and swinging his long legs. “I just did it to help you.”

“Oh— Yeah,” Remus nods. “The GSA appreciates all the help we can get.”  His words are quiet, and he’s rinsing a hand through his curls, so Sirius can tell that he’s a bit nervous. And it’s impossibly cute, but also not on. He doubts that he’ll ever get his kiss if Remus won’t even look at him in the eyes.

Gingerly, Sirius sets the pad of his pointer finger beneath Remus’s chin, lifting his gaze upwards. “Not the GSA— Though I appreciate the club’s work and your part in that.”

“Oh,” Remus says again, lips pursed and his throat pulsing when he swallows down. “Then—“

“I did it for you Remus,” Sirius repeats heatedly. “I did it because I’ve been mad for you since ever meeting you in August, and I can’t get your fucking face or name or lips or ass out of my head. And I thought that if maybe I pulled a dumb stunt like that, you would actually kiss me along with the lot of those idiots who can’t even hold a candle to you.”

“M—My ass?” Remus questions, voice going pitchy and face bright with emotion. 

Sirius laughs, booming and bombastic. “You have the best ass I’ve ever seen Remus Lupin and it’s really obscene.”

Remus shoulder checks him, looking down and then back up through his lashes at Sirius and it’s a sight Sirius wish he can keep with him for the rest of his days.

“So you thought I’d want our first kiss to happen after you’ve just made out with half the school?” 

Sirius grimaces, bending down so that their lips are only inches apart. “Listen, I can be a complete dumb ass on occasion.”

“Don’t forget arrogant.”

“Okay, fair.”

“And brash too.”

“Right.”

“Also you tend—“

Sirius places a soft hand over Remus’s supple lips, glaring teasingly at the other boy, who’s grinning like the cat who’s caught the canary, his eyes teeming with laughter. 

Remus Lupin is going to be the death of  him, Sirius knows it.

“Listen Lupin, I’d like a shred of self respect here, so I can actually muster up the courage to ask you out on a proper date already.”

Remus perks at that, so Sirius moves his grasp.

 “You wanna ask me out?”

“Depends…. You wanna continue that little rant until I’m blue balled and  gutless.”

“Hmm,” Remus inches closer, setting his hand over Sirius’s on the piano. “Nah, I think I’d rather do this.”

He leans forwards and Sirius barely has enough time to gather his bearings when he feels Remus’s mouth over his own and it’s literally every starlit promise and sugar burnt secret and sunlit afternoon all rolled into one. And Sirius feels his heart thud an uneven staccato when he grabs for either end of Remus’s waistline and plunges his tongue into his own and he lets himself get lost in the overwhelming feeling of it all.

[goosemixtapes]

max’s top books of 2021 :3c

top ten bookposting... TWO!!! (you can find last year’s here!) once again, this is ranked completely on the basis of my opinions (which are abstract combinations of “how technically good is this book?” and “how much did i enjoy it?”)

i read... a lot this year. half again as much as last year, because i started uni in august and guess who is taking literature classes! that said, this list was still incredibly difficult to make because Reading More Books does not necessarily equate to Enjoying More Books. under the cut because i have a lot to say.

first off: the runner-ups: American Moor by Keith Hamilton Cobb (a one-man play about being a black man through the lens of Othello; jesus christ the power in this writing; i should reread this); Teenage Dick by Mike Lew (not sure how i felt about the ending but oh my fucking god this is everything.); Milk Fed by Melissa Broder (incredibly striking character voice; started amazing and sagged in the middle imo); History of Wolves by Emily Fridlund (books that feel like getting hit over the head with a baseball bat); and Station Eleven by Emily St. John Mandel (i know i’m late to this one but. crying cat image)

and my top three anticipated 2022 releases: I Am Margaret Moore by Hannah Capin (what can i say. 2020 left me a hannah capin groupie); Ellen Outside the Lines by A.J. Sass (GAY PEOPLE AND NONBINARY PEOPLE AND NEURODIVERGENT PEOPLE?); and Hell Followed With Us by A.J. White (THIS BOOK... LAST NIGHT I DREAMED I HELD YOU IN MY ARMS.)

without further ado! the list, with my love increasing as the numbers drop:

10. O Human Star by Blue Delliquanti

if you like gaytrans people and robots, you need to read this. if you like gaytrans people but are relatively neutral about robots, you need to read this. if you hate robots. i guess you shouldn’t read this. but it’s FREE ONLINE, so what’s really stopping you from giving it a shot? the entire time i was reading this, my thoughts were split between “ooooooohhhhhmmmmygod this is such a trans story, this is such a trans story, this understands being a closeted trans person and the agonizingly slow process of realizing it better than pretty much anything i’ve ever read” and “PAIN PAIN SUFFERING AGONY PAIN.” and also “GAY PEOPLE KISS ON THE MOUTH A FAMILY CAN BE TWO INVENTORS AND THEIR ROBOT CLONE DAUGHTER.” nearly made me cry in my in-person latin class because i was reading instead of doing my work. 10/10

9. The Chosen and the Beautiful by Nghi Vo

this was one of my most anticipated reads of 2021, and i was right. i was right. it’s a gatsby retelling (already great) starring a bisexual vietnamese jordan baker (even better) WITH MAGIC (!!!) and some of the most breathtakingly beautiful prose i’ve read all year. i read this with a group of friends, and we collectively agreed that the soft magic system was sometimes a little vague (particularly in terms of how magic’s existence affects the rest of society), but that was the only criticism i had because jesus christ this was amazing. falls under the category of retellings make me think “FUCK, the og text is so good” while also being incredibly gripping and gorgeous in their own rights (this is the best category of retellings).

8. The Iliad by Homer

OOOOOOOOO let’s get into the NERD ZONE PART OF THIS POST. i read the iliad twice this year, because i am insane. first so i could read TSOA after it (a book that... i did not love. but that is another matter), then again because i had to for class. you guys, i think homer can write. do not talk to me about hector unless you want to check out how hard i can cry (and on that note, shoutout to An Iliad by Lisa Peterson and Dennis O’Hare because. bark bark bark rufrufrufruf grrrrr bark bark etc) (and also, shoutout to the chilliad.)

7. The Drowning Girl by Caitlin R. Kiernan

i will say flat out that this book is not for everyone. the synopsis is super vague, and the book itself is written in a winding and abstract style that some might find frustrating. but i happen to be the exact target audience of this book about a fictional schizophrenic lesbian writing her fictional memoir about a series of events that might have been Actually Magic or might have been a delusion. this book is SO fucking meta in an absolutely delightful way. there are SO many literary and artistic references. the aforementioned style is deliberately a representation of how imp (the main character)’s mental illness shapes her writing, and as a mentally ill person whose brain ALSO shapes my writing, i loved that, and i love how it tied into the themes, and i love this book a lot, and i wrote a much longer review so i will leave it at that.

6. A Game of Thrones by George R.R. Martin

. okay. look. look at me. look. it would be SO easy, culturally, homosexually, to hate game of thrones. but this book fucks INCREDIBLY severely. there is a REASON a song of ice and fire has become the template for this kind of fantasy, and that’s because NOBODY IS DOING IT LIKE GEORGE R R MARTIN. putting a dragon and some gritty straight sex in your fantasy novel is not going to make you the next game of thrones!!! there is WORLDBUILDING here!!! there is LORE!!! there is a vast interwoven tapestry of characters who all feel devastatingly human even when they’re terrible!!! there are ICE ZOMBIES? i don’t even care about ice zombies but nobody fucking told me that! i hate george rr martin because i want his job so bad (getting away with writing 800 page fantasy books except mine will be about gay people) but even despite that i can admit that this book deserves the hype. (have been reading the second one at the speed of 1 page per eon while at college. turns out a book of this scale is not the best to read in scattered intervals at college. oh well)

5. The Wicked and the Divine by Kieron Gillen & Jamie McKelvie

i actually don’t read a lot of comics/graphic novels (maybe i should read more? i don’t know; i like prose) and so i had to be coaxed into wicdiv by the esteemed mx. @yvesdot. and thank god for it because oh my god. OH my god. this series takes a rad idea (“hey, pop stars are treated like gods. what if they Were”) and completely fucking slams the gas pedal to 100. the plot twists in this series broke my fucking NECK (two of my reviews read “THIS ISSUE WAS LIKE GETTING HITCHED TO A MEAT HOOK AND HAVING MY BODY SWUNG AROUND AT HIGH VELOCITY WITH A BUNCH OF FLESHY THUNKS AGAINST THE WALL.” and “my head is a mailbox and wicdiv is the group of rowdy teenage kids in cars in the 80s coming to hit me with a baseball bat”). the art is BREATHTAKING; this is a series for people who like women. every character is SO compelling and so horrible and so imperfect and once i started reading it was near impossible to stop. the last volume made me lie in the fetal position on my dorm floor. i made a PLAYLIST for this series. i, a man who only makes playlists for shakespeare shit. the playlist is called “fuck off i am not crying” ADN GUESS WHAT . I WAS

4. The Last True Poets of the Sea by Julia Drake

there are the books that you read in a day or two and enjoy, and then there are the books that you ignore your zoom class to finish while holding in your tears on camera. there are the shakespeare retellings that slap, and then there are the shakespeare retellings written specifically to appeal to mentally ill theater-oriented WLW hyperfixating on twelfth night whose younger brothers are also mentally ill. realllllllly hard to describe the amount of emotions i have for this book. realllllllly hard to not lie facedown on the carpet thinking about it. (no, you don’t have to read twelfth night to read this; yes, you should read it. immaculately written. wonderful book. plus look at that fucking COVER. gay rights)

3. War and Peace by Leo Tolstoy

and once again. we return. to the nerd zone. maybe i have stockholm syndrome. maybe that’s why i’m sitting here about to type “war and peace was maybe the most fun reading experience i had this year.” because if you’re gonna read a 1200 page book, you have to start enjoying it at SOME point, right? just as a defense mechanism? but oh my god war and peace is so legitimately good. i hate tolstoy’s pedantic misogynist pancake ass but that man can write characters in a way that makes me want to levitate off of my chair into the air and/or scream into a pillow. on a serious level: part of my enjoyment is because it’s actually really good; part of it is because i have a whole group of friends who also enjoy war and peace, and so i got to discuss it and listen to their playlists and look at their art. and part of it is definitely because the spring of my senior year of high school, bored out of my mind in my last set of required classes, terrified of the looming shadow of College TM, was probably the best time in my life so far to pick up a doorstop about confused and depressed young adults trying to find their places in the world despite the feeling that they’re wasting their lives and their talents and missing “the answers” of life. also every bitch in this book is gay. listen to great comet

2. The Aeneid by Virgil

we saw this coming, right. like we knew this was coming. the first time i read this poem (notably, when i hadn’t read homer yet and couldn’t pick out all the allusions to the iliad/odyssey) was at the start of 2021, because my ten-person latin 5 class translated it. and i found it kind of boring, but the class was insane (positively. for the most part), and i thought, well, whatever, it’s a decent story even if i don’t like the style of epic poems. and then that Decent Story sunk into every nook and crevice of my brain in the following months and haunted me like the shade of [idk, name someone who dies in the aeneid, there’s a handful] until i finally got to read it again in one of my uni classes and had to physically stop myself from overtaking the entire class with my answers to the professor’s questions and then proceeded to follow the professor after class to talk with (at?) him about it and then made him read two different essays about it. i think when it comes to “thinking about aeneas” i am in the top 100 people on the planet. virgil put his pussy into every single line of this poem and it’s one of my personality traits now

1. The Complete Works of William Shakespeare

speaking of max’s personality traits. okay, here’s the part where i confess that i did not actually read the entire complete works this year. i WANTED to, and intended to, but i didn’t start in earnest until june (i thought i was going to do a book club with a friend! and then we did not.) and as a result of that + uni, i really doubt i’m going to finish the last four or five plays in the next five days. (maybe i could. but i would like to do other things at some point this week.) that said, i DID read twenty-five new shakespeare plays (and hamlet and as you like it again) and most of the sonnets. in general my opinions and meta posting are on my shakespeare blog; specific shout-outs go to my new favorites, ranked just under hamlet and lear: henry iv part 1 (HOTSPUR MY FUCKING BELOVEDDDD. HAL ONE OF THE CHARACTERS OF ALL TIME), julius caesar (this is my version of a page-turner vacation read. both times i’ve read this i did it in 48 hours and i’m insane about brutus and cassius.), and twelfth night (far and away my favorite comedy, and probably my favorite read of the year).

if you’ve read this far, you have to add me on goodreads and we will be legally wed. everyone tell me your favorite reads of the year i want to know

[batarella]

The Odyssey - (Professor!Jason x Professor!Reader)

I SWEAR I’M NOT A FELON. ALL THESE PUBLIC SEX CONTENT IS PURELY JUST FOR THE SAKE OF CONTENT. DON’T CALL THE POLICE.

ALSO, I’d like to thank @offendedfishnoises and @sarcasmismyfirstlove for this idea (those thirsty bitches wanted this a lot) and @idkmanicantenglish for providing me with such amazing suggestions! love you guys but ya’ll are an astronomical level of horny

WORDS: 2461 WARNINGS: ORAL SEX. FUCKING ON A DESK. JEEZ\

Masterlist

Fucking hell, you were so doing this on purpose.

And it didn’t help that you were late. Even if he weren’t at the podium standing in front of almost a hundred people, he could just feel how half his students’ attention had long left him and were almost drenching the floors of their drool. It sickened him. You, with your insanely fitting pencil skirt hugging your curves, a thin button shit that laid so delicately against your skin, high heels on your feet as red as the lipstick you were wearing, and a pencil you used to hold your hair up in a bun, you took the front seat, crossed your leg over the other and pulled out your notes.

Professor Jason Todd stopped with his lecture for the tiniest minute to breathe, and he told himself it was because you, his co-worker, were assigned to observe how he’d deal with such a number of students before sending the report over to human resources. His job was on the line. Of course, he’d be sweating off his pits.

Yeah, it was totally because of that.

“As I was saying,” he said. “The Iliad and the Odyssey are the oldest surviving works of Ancient Greek Literature…”

You started jotting down onto your notebook, not of his lecture, but on how he was speaking, standing, and interacting with the students, your eyes peeking up from your dark-framed glasses and looking directly into his own. Pursing your red lips together, you inched up your seat, and your skirt riding up your thighs caught Jason’s attention more times than he would ever say.

But he managed to continue speaking at a modulated volume as if he weren’t distracted at all.

“We have little reliable information about him other than that he was blind and may have been from island of Chios. He probably made money singing at festivals. Milman Perry in the 1920s speculated that Homer…”

Half an hour passed perhaps. He was doing fine. Great, in fact. You had stopped with your notes for the moment and were leaning back against the chair, the tip of your pencil between your teeth. Dark red lipstick looked so good on you…

“A-and,” he coughed. “About the Greek’s religion…”

Okay. You looked absolutely gorgeous. He never denied that. But the way you were looking at him now? In the middle of a lecture when you were supposed to make sure he doesn’t mess up? Jason wanted to dig himself a hole right in the middle of the concrete floor and die.

You smiled at him.

That’s when he audibly stuttered, cleared his throat, thought back for a few good seconds on what the hell he was saying, before he continued.

He had to stop looking at you.

Look at anyone else. That kid who looked like something was up his nose. A girl who was writing down every word he said without missing a syllable and still had her phone up to record him. A boy with dark eyes who’d fallen asleep on his desk. Another guy three seats away from you, looking over at your chest.

Three knocks on his podium to catch everyone’s attention. Everyone stopped with their whispers and naps and looked back at him again.

But it wasn’t without glancing down at your chest, too. Just to know what that other guy was gawking at. And as if you knew, you breathed in with your chest up and he could see how the buttons of your shirt barely did their job.

He had to look away before he’d be given any more chances at a peek at your dark-colored bra.

Homer. Odyssey. A journey that lasted decades and other shit he’s known since 5th grade. This was exhausting. Trying not to look at you was exhausting. Being ashamed of getting a hard on behind the podium in the middle of a fucking lecture was exhausting. And later tonight, he probably won’t have the energy left in him to go on patrol.

Alright. He can take this. He knew what to do.

“Please take out any paper you have with you and write down a piece of ancient Greek literature you want to do for this week’s paper. I’ll give you five minutes.”

Breathe. Fucking breathe. This was his chance to breathe. He probably hadn’t in the last hour, because it felt like not even the tiniest bit of oxygen was flowing up to his brain.

But the demons in him spoke against his ear. It was telling him to look up at you again. Just a glance.

You were swinging your leg, your back straight as a pole and your teeth around the pencil once again. You smiled at him, this time with your eyes so dark and deep that it sent his blood flow roaring around the vessels in his body. Jason didn’t smile back. Instead, he looked at you with his face all blank, up and down, before turning back to his class. “Pens down. Tomorrow we’ll talk about the Trojan C-“

Then, you had it in you to take the pencil out from your hair, letting it drop and flow down to your back. It was a curled, beautiful mess. And you didn’t straighten it out. Instead, you let it rest over your shoulders and looked straight at Jason with the most subtle smirk.

And your lips had that pout, from a habit he’d noticed when you’d instinctively lick over your teeth. Your lips were what he stared at the most.

As did practically the whole room. They weren’t even waiting for Jason to finish his sentence and pick his mouth back up from the fucking floor.

His stutter made you narrow your eyes, lean over your desk, and take note of his behavior.

-----

You tried to at least hold back your smirk when you heard the knocking on your office door. The same three knocks he used to silence his class.

“Come in.”

Jason stepped in, his laptop bag over his shoulder.

You stopped what you were doing and placed your pen into your holder.

“Mr. Todd-”

“Don’t give me that,” Jason said, rolling his eyes.

You let out a breathy chuckle, spinning in your chair as you leaned back. He looked mad. And insanely hot. Never mind being in a teacher’s suit that was all brown and boring. He looked good in anything. Jason set his bag down, pulled down the blinds of your windows, then walked over to the other side of your desk with a glare that sent you in painfully delicious shivers.

His hands on your desk, he leaned over to you. “That wasn’t funny.”

“That was hilarious.”

“I’ll get fired.”

“Relax. I gave you a perfect score,” you placed your elbows on the table and looked up at him, feeling his breathy growl so near to your lips.

His breath uneven, you reached out to hold his tie, twisting it around your fingers.

“The students are gonna know something’s going on between us. They all had fucking hard-ons in class.”

“And you didn’t?”

Your eyes darted over his lips, then at his crotch. You smiled.

“You are so dead when I observe you tomorrow.”

“Then it’s HR’s fault for letting two professors secretly sleeping with each other have a say on their job performance.”

“It is,” he smirked.

“What are you gonna do? Parade into my class with your shirt off?”

“No, but it’s never been that hard to make you soaking wet for me.”

You pulled on his tie and he hungrily devoured your lips like he’d been long wanting to do that the whole day. You stood up, pushing the chair behind you, then Jason violently cleared out your desk with a strong swipe of his arm, pulling on your waist to let you sit on the table.

“Did you-” you said between kisses. “-lock the door?”

“Mhm.” The table squeaked when he pulled you even closer, letting your legs swing over the edge of the table. His hands were all over your thighs, squeezing and kneading them to tease your pussy. You helped him take off his suit jacket, then you pulled on his dress shirt up from being tucked into his pants so your palms could snake up his abs. Jason tore your shirt open, letting the buttons pop and fall to the ground.

Gasping, Jason started kissing down your breasts and you let him ride your skirt up to your waist. He pulled you closer, and you spread your legs wide open for him to get comfortable between them. Teasing the tip of your heeled shoe against his back, you moaned when he grinded against you.

You weren’t wearing any panties. For fuck’s sake Jason looked like he wanted to murder you after fucking you so violently. “I can’t believe you.”

“Shh,” you gripped on his hair, so tightly it made him wince. Glaring at you, he took your hand off and started to pull his tie off from his neck.

“You don’t get to do anything.”

Gulping, he took a moment to watch your chest heave before taking both your hands, letting his rough finger graze across your wrists. Then you almost came right at that moment when he pulled your arms behind your back, turning you around, then tied your wrists together with his tie.

You could feel your wetness drench the table.

“Get on your knees.”

You did. And you kept looking up at him while he unbuckled his belt and let his awfully hard cock spring out of his pants. “Has that been wanting to see me for the last hour?” you said.

Without an answer, Jason held the side of your face, taking in the sight of you so flawlessly perfect in front of him. He grazed his thumb against your red lips and groaned. “I’ve been wanting these lips around my cock since you walked into the damn room.”

When he started gripping your hair, he pulled you to him and his cock sunk deep into your mouth, past towards your throat which instantly made you gag. It was hot, almost a blur, but Jason kept holding you still until he heard you whimper around his dick. “Hmm?”

Your eyes locked onto him, you let your tongue play with his load inside you, swirling and teasing with your drool trailing down your mouth. He shut his eyes and moaned way too loud. Pulling your head back and forth, you hallowed your mouth the best you can and stared up at him.

“Fuck…” he gasped. “You have no idea how hot you look right now.”

He didn’t give you a chance to answer and pulled his cock deep into your throat to watch you gag.

Pulling your head back just to breathe, he let go of your hair and let you suck him off at the pace you wanted. You couldn’t use your hands, so you did what you could with your lips, your tongue, your teeth so lightly grazing the tip, watching his reactions. His finger brushed against your cheek, and you pulled away to look up at him with your drool dripping down your chin.

You absolutely loved watching him squirm while you sucked his dick. The way he pulls on his own hair, trails his hand down his abs, he watched you with his mouth parted and let his dark hair flow down to his eyes. You licked his tip, sucked it like you would with a lollipop and let your tongue go crazy with the slit at the tip. He bit on his hand, still keeping his eyes on you, then you forced it down the back of your throat the best you can and choked yourself.

“That’s it,” he said. Smoothing your hair over with his hand. You pulled back to look at him, and he put his thumb into your mouth, pulling it off with a loud pop before letting you have it with his cock again. You could tell he held back his cum. He looked like he was just about to internally explode.

You stood back up, kissing him so he could taste himself from you. Jason didn’t wait another moment to forcibly turn you around, then he bent you over the desk to let the cold, breezing air hit your throbbing cunt.

With your hands still tied, you let him hold onto your waist, bruising them with his strong hands, then you hit the table’s surface with your forehead when he started fucking the living daylights out of you. “Oh!” you squealed, but you bit your lips before you could scream anything else. The thrill of getting caught, it was one of the reasons why your relationship with Jason was so hot.

You don’t think he’s ever been this hard before, like it was throbbing and hurting so much that any touch was possibly going to make him cum. Still, he had it in him to hold it back, but a pull on your hair made you wince at the pain, then he pounded into you so skillfully fast, you could only stare at the wall with your tears leaking out of your eyes. It was definitely a blur now. The buzz, the sensation, his moans, you came much too early despite all your forces doing everything to hold it back. But you couldn’t, and with him still pounding relentlessly, you were a twitching mess so sensitive to the core.

The pain was so beautifully mixed with the orgasm, which trailed on and on the more he fucked you. Fuck, the orgasm probably lasted longer than the build up. But with your mouth so wipe open, screaming whatever profanity you knew in your head, Jason kept going until another coil in your stomach built up, and you exploded.

Jason didn’t last any longer. Spilling his hot cum inside you, he hesitated to slow down, wincing at his own sensitivity. You were panting, sweating off your skin, and you laid bent down over the table even with him already zipping up his pants, taking his tie off from your hands.

You pulled yourself up and stretched your skirt back down to cover your cum-covered thighs, still in a daze. You turned around, wrapped your arms around him and kissed him gently, much softer than just a moment ago.

“That ended way too quickly,” he said, his hands on your waist.

“Why don’t you come over tonight and we’ll make it last for all the way until dawn-“

“We should probably go to a hotel,” he smirked. “Can’t risk getting caught in that fucking teacher’s dorm.”

“I’ll book us a night.”

Winking at you, he slapped your ass before pulling away and walking out the door.

  Taglist: everyartistwas-firstanamateur  @sarcasmismyfirstlove @damned-queen-of-gotham @idkmanicantenglish @wunderstell @birdy-bat-riya @get-loki@everyday-imfangirling @comic-nerd-dc @multifandoms916 @icequeen208@offendedfishnoises @egdolan @xemiefx @arkhamtoddler @elsenthal@mythicbitchx @supremehaunter @ burning-alive  @lucy-roo  roseangel013bf @ loxbbg  reclusive-chicken-nuggethttp-cherries shadowsndaisiesriver9noble zphilophobiazannoylinglyaries

[pitiless-achilles-wept]

Not dead yet!: Marking my 2-year anniversaries

On Sunday I marked my two-year “cancerversary” of my diagnosis and on Tuesday a member of the support group I co-founded (for young women who are stage 4) died. Like me, she had triple-negative breast cancer. Like me, she was diagnosed stage 4 two years ago. Like me, she had exhausted several types of treatment (because triple-negative is a beast) and was looking for the one that would work. She asked me about Saci (Sassy!) and proposed trying it to her doctor less than a week before she died. Nine days before she passed she joined our Sunday cancer yoga group from bed at the hospital to join our meditation exercises. Like me, she remained confident and positive and absolutely refused to give up hope. (Like me, she also wore her hair purple sometimes.)

There were many things that are unlike about us too. She had two teenage children who now don’t have their mother. She was twelve years older than me and had had Hodgkin’s before she had breast cancer--even worse luck than mine, to triumph over one cancer only to get this diagnosis. Unlike me, she wasn’t strong enough for Saci, the only targeted triple-negative line of treatment, because her body had reacted badly to immunotherapy. She was in the hospital for two weeks with somewhat mysterious symptoms all of which added up to her body shutting down. On Saturday she went home with her family in hospice care. 2 days later she was gone.

It’s not usual for things to go so fast. Typically, doctors, patients, and family members all have some advance warning and patients spend a solid amount of time in hospice care. I am sure that people will ask me why it went that way for her. I’m asking myself why too, since it is so shocking and so entirely unfair. The fact that it can happen that way at all is frightening to me as a fellow patient since it’s the scenario of nightmares. That really could someday be me. No one ever wants to think that--and I cannot live my life focused on it either--but it has to be acknowledged as a possibility.

[More below the cut about memories from 2 years ago today and hopes for the future. Also, an invitation to contribute to some writing if you want.]

Today, January 28th, is the 2-year anniversary of my stage 4 diagnosis. In a way, it feels more significant than my initial cancer news. I had four days being horrified, but thinking that I would get through this as a phase in my life. It would be terrible--I’d have a double mastectomy, scorched-earth chemo, radiation, anything to get rid of the cancer--but then it would be done. On the Monday following my first set of CT scans I learned that that was not true. My lungs were full of tumors. (Later, after lots of waiting, MRIs and biopsies, I'd find that my lymph nodes, spine, and liver were affected too. I still have tumors in all those locations, but no new ones.) I wrote a description of getting that news in an email to a friend over the summer, after I had read Anne Boyer’s "The Undying”:

“The worst part about the lung tumors for me was that my dad had gotten a very early flight and I learned the news while he was in the air. My mom told me we could not text or tell him on the phone, that he would need to be with us both. So I drove to Newark straight from the doctor's office. It was in the teens outside and windy as we slogged to the baggage area where we were to meet. I saw my dad in his warmest and ugliest puffy orange down jacket, looking small in it, forlorn and horribly vulnerable. I fell into his arms, thinking at least that airports were such horrible places, so impersonal and banal, that no one would look twice. 'It's in my lungs,' I said into his shoulder so that I would not have to see his face. I was crying into the jacket that somehow smelled of winter cold even though he had been inside for hours. 'Please, Daddy. Fix it, please.' I spoke like a child because, on some very deep level, I think I really did still believe that my father could fix anything. I was embarrassed, though, and so I tried to stem my tears as he put his big hand on the back of my head and said, 'Oh sweetie, we'll get through this. We will.' I knew that really he could do nothing--and that this was his nightmare of powerlessness--and so I sniffed and blinked and I did not let myself cry again until June.”

Two years later this moment seems as if it just happened. The impact of my diagnosis on everyone dear to me, and especially my parents, is one of the worst things about it for me. We all know that there’s only so much “better” I can get, with the current science, and we’re all playing for time while the research moves forward towards something better, something that would make this a treatable chronic condition. I go back and forth, emotionally, on how likely I think that is and how good my position is for the future. Right now, comparing myself to the group member who died, I feel relatively fortunate, even as chemo exhausts me, I lose every scrap of hair that was ever on my body, and I spend half of my days being almost unable to eat from nausea and loss of taste. I feel glad that I was able to get Saci, that my body has so far stood up to the ceaseless trials I have put it through, with four treatments and surgery (and full-time work and living alone etc. etc.). I feel strong, not scared, even as I feel the emotional toll of terrible loneliness from covid isolation, winter, and carrying a sick body through my days alone.

I do not love the “fight” metaphor because so much of having an illness is completely out of your control and I never want to take myself (or anyone else) to task for “losing.” And so instead I will praise my body for enduring. I will praise myself for my enduring also, in both an emotional and physical way. I checked back in on how I was feeling as this anniversary approached last year and was pleased to see how much better I feel about it now, partly as a function of being in a treatment that is (likely) keeping me stable rather than in the midst of choosing another new one. Here is what I wrote back to my group of friends in November 2019, the run up to the one-year mark:

“I’m feeling like I can’t plan and don’t want to celebrate, like I can’t perform “fine” for the people in my life to spare them from the pain I’m causing by not doing better and feeling horrible about it. Perhaps it would help if I let them know that they didn’t need to perform “fine” for me? I understand the desire to protect me from the obligation to take care of them and appreciate it. But sometimes it can feel like I’m the only one experiencing anger or grief or pain, though I know I’m not. Feeling so isolated in my emotional response provides no catharsis for it. Compassion and sympathy function on the notion of “fellow feeling.” If you’re just out here, feeling by yourself, you can’t expect any comfort. As always, I think of the moment in the Iliad when Priam and Achilles cry together over dead Hector. Grief (and you can grieve for many things aside from a death) is something explicitly to be shared.” So I guess I’ve shared it here. I can do that. And I can do another thing, which is to tell you I love you. People don’t really say it enough and reserve it too entirely for romantic contexts. It’s weird--it’s not like we are wartime rationing love! And every time anyone says it to me it helps. It’s an affirmation that I am integral in some way to people’s lives which, in a society that so greatly valorizes marriage/partnership and children, is something I can be in doubt about.”

There are some things I like here, though, and that I would now like to reiterate and invite you, my far-flung friends, to do for my 2-year milestone. Never has the notion of “fellow feeling” in times of grief and depression hit harder or been more important than during covid. In a way, the nation (or even world) was forced into much the same position, emotionally and practically, that my cancer put me in. People are isolated, unable to perform “fine” and wondering if other people feel the same way, or even if any of us can take care of each other at all. I am here to tell you that you can. Maybe not immediately but--sooner than you think--you can. Emotional reserves may be low but reaching out to support someone else can actually replenish them. You do not have to feel alone, or to feel, alone.

And for me, for this milestone and for the cancer-related depression that I certainly do have, I’d like to invite you to help me, so that I can do the same for you. I invite you to write something about how this milestone feels for you (either about me or not), how it relates to all the other insane things going on in the world or with you (not about me at all), how you felt on the original day when I shared my stage 4 diagnosis (definitely about me)--really anything that is on your mind or in your heart.

“Oh great,” you may think, “the English PhD has asked us to do homework!”. But no! It's up to you what you do. Write in whatever form you want, however long, even anonymously. And if you do I will write you back! Not with grades or comments, but with something to connect to what you shared. It is a way to create fellow-feeling; to open up, connect, heal. With me, yes, but also as the group of extraordinary people who have gone with me so far on this hard road. It’s a very different proposition to support someone through time-limited treatment with a good outcome than it is to sign on for whatever comes next. You are all, truly, pretty extraordinary.

Anyone who wants to send a note or reflection can email me or drop a file or post in this Google drive folder. Like I said, feel free to share whatever and do it anonymously if you’d rather. You can also askbox me here (better than DMS) or submit a post to this blog. (I'm taking a chance with open DMs for now...we'll see if that needs to change.)

I am grateful for all of you every day, but especially today.

Love, Bex

p.s. The title of this post refers to the cinematic classic "Monty Python and the Holy Grail," a film my high school self and friends loved. They, along with other wonderful folks. gave me a "cancerversary" cake with "Not dead yet, motherfucker!" on it this Sunday. p.p.s. The average life expectancy for people who get this diagnosis is 18 months to 3 years. Hitting 5 years would be extraordinary. Starting Year 3 is a huge deal and I have every intention of being extraordinary. (Never been average at anything in my life...I either succeed spectacularly or fail epically!)

[godsofhumanity]

TROY: FALL OF A CITY (2018) | REVIEW

aight so i just finished watching Netflix’s Troy: Fall of a City. once again, i’m here to give y’all my two cents about this absolutely heart-wrenching show. spoilers under the cut!!

OVERVIEW: Troy: Fall of a City is an adaption of Homer’s Iliad, the Greek epic that explores the Trojan War. The series covers Paris’ journey as he decides who is the most beautiful from the goddesses Athena, Hera, and Aphrodite, and then follows his fate to find the most beautiful woman on Earth- Helen.

RATING: 9.5/10. i don’t cry when i watch shows or films, but holy shit.. i was moved to almost tears. honestly really really liked this show, it was well done. 100% recommend to anyone 18+ yrs, because some themes are extremely graphic.

WARNING: this show contains depictions of animal mutilation, infanticide, and just general violence and gore.

AVAILABLE ON: netflix

THINGS I LIKED:

- the way most of the characters were portrayed. although the cast wasn’t greek, i still feel like the actors did a marvellous job. it was easy to feel sorry or to hate certain characters.

- storyline flowed really easily. although there were many stories trying to be covered at the same time- Paris, Achilles, Hector, Odysseus, Cassandra, Helen, etc., it didn’t feel forced. even someone who didn’t already know the story could watch this show and be like “oh yeah this makes sense”.

- costuming. i’m not sure how accurate it was, but the sets and the costumes looked amazing. the trojan horse in the last episode in particular was a favourite.

- soundtrack. it matched the show perfectly. it was energetic and then melancholic at all the right times.

- even when characters made really tough and heartbreaking decisions (i’m talking about you @ odysseus), you still felt sorry and sympathetic for them. this might just be me, but as someone who loves both Hector and Achilles, i still couldn’t find it in myself to hate either of them, because both sides of the story were really nicely explained- it didn’t feel biased.

- the heartbreak. the scenes where odysseus kills andromache’s son, when achilles kills hector, hector kills patroclus, and paris kills achilles- these scenes were so moving and sickening at the same time- there were so many emotions at once, it really was insane. few shows portray these scenes as well as they were done in this show.

- cassandra. cassandra didn’t have too much screen time in this show, but i really liked how she was portrayed. they didn’t cover apollo’s involvement with cursing her, but it was so sad to see her warning everyone and everyone (except hector) was like “whateva 4eva”.

- Hector naming his son after a child soldier who died.......... Hector you are so good.. we literally did not deserve you

- i think my favourite characters would have to be: Hector, Andromache, Odysseus, Achilles, Pandarus, Priam & Hecuba. 

THINGS I DIDN’T LIKE:

- portrayal of the gods. for clarity’s sake, they omitted the fact that it was Eris who had begun the battle of the beauties in the first place, and instead made it out to be that Zeus had somehow pitted them against each other so that fate could be fulfilled?? idk. i didn’t like it, it was a little ambiguous.

- going on from the above point, i don’t think any of the gods looked like gods. they looked like regular mortals?? it was kind of a let down.

- Patroclus begging for mercy when Hector killed him???? hello???? he’s a warrior, he should have gone down with dignity.

- related to Patroclus’ death scene- Achilles’ wrath felt unjustified in a way, because Patroclus wore Achilles’ armour, so Hector thought he was killing Achilles. Hector had NO IDEA that it was actually Patroclus, and even when the armour got pulled off he was like “wait what why did u let him do that achilles?” and then Achilles went off the shits about it?? like maybe you should have listened to Patroclus and fought instead of sulking in your tent and then getting angry that your bf was killed by the enemy!!!!!! GRRR!!!! hector ily <3

- i hate helen. this isn’t really something that the show did, i just never liked her and i wanted to say it >:(

- the introduction of the Amazons was a little rushed. they were introduced in the second last episode, and the justification for the Amazonians’ hatred of the Myrmidons was just that Achilles had killed a few of their gals in battle??? that’s literally what happens in a war! people die! idk, it just felt like a poor excuse. also really disliked the Amazon Queen’s haircut. really bad.

- in the beginning episodes, King Priam and Queen Hecuba seem to be at odds with each other over the return of Paris, and they keep talking about how they were cursed by the gods, and that they should forgive themselves or something, but it’s never gone into detail about what exactly it was that they did to get themselves cursed :/

[lunars-unpopular-opinions]

@azureflight

Hey! Saw your comments, wanted to respond. I put it below the cut to make sure no one saw any spoilers who didn’t want them. I think there’s a bit of a misunderstanding of what I meant in my original post, I wanna clarify some things real quick!

If anyone else is reading this, it contains vague references to Episode 164.

I specifically mean whatever aspect of her is a fertility goddess. I imagine whatever other powers she has, the actual might and ability she has would stick around. You can still be a terrifying spring goddess without being a fertility goddess, as most of Olympus doesn’t think she is one. So it’s clearly possible. Hell, Demeter is like that. She’s nature without fertility.

My theory is that Persephone gives up whatever part of her makes her desirable to the power mad. The part of her that would make them control her, and in doing so frees herself and is then better able to unleash the ability she’s been given. I mostly think the sacrifice would be thematic rather than practical.

Again tho it’s just a theory and parts of it def don’t totally add up, it just got me thinking so as per the way this reaction blog works I proposed it. More of an examination of what the pomegranate could mean if anything. We KNOW she has to eat it, we just don’t know what it’ll mean for her when she does.

Especially because in real world mythology there’s a lot of evidence that Persephone was a powerful goddess of death, one of these proofs is that the Iliad refers to her as “dread Persephone” so in her own right as a goddess of the underworld she would have a tremendous amount of power. I do not think she’ll suddenly be powerless, I think she’d just have to give up the very aspect of fertility. And technically I’m not even sure about that? It’s just a theory, since this blog does theories and reactions.

Persephone, before Greek mythos began, has a very elusive history (as most of them do because Greek Dark Ages and all that jazz) but what we do understand is that she had many titles, an insane amount of power, and was feared, as in “you do not say her name” feared. So when I say she’d have to give something up, I’m specifically referring to her status as a fertility deity. Persephone is likely one of the most powerful Greek gods in the pantheon, she’s certainly older than Hades is by real world metrics, pre-Greek culture in Linear B has not yet shown any existence of Hades, it’s likely Persephone took his place entirely before the advent of Greek mythos and he was written in when the Ancient Greeks started writing their mythos down. (Oddly enough her and her mother are often depicted with Poseidon but that’s sort of a tangent)

I would not have Persephone strip her power to save herself, I don’t think that’s what would happen. I think she’d undergo a metamorphosis into something more powerful.

As for her children, I stuck with Zagreus and Plutus because they’re the ones with less dubious parentage? Very well could be that the author decides to attribute the others to the two of them, but for the moment Zagreus has the least amount of dubious parentage and Plutus has two couples to pick from so... sticking with them was not me ignoring the others, it was me picking the ones that were most likely.

The tl;dr of the theory post: I don’t think she’ll be powerless, I think she’ll be more powerful but she just won’t be a fertility goddess anymore. These are just observations based on what I’m seeing and my own knowledge as someone who actively studies history daily, I can’t predict what’ll happen, this blog is just for observations as I see them. You certainly don’t have to agree with me.

I hope that clears up what I mean!

[mythologyfolklore]

Ares and Athena through the years - Ch. 11

Chapter Eleven: The Trojan War, pt. 03

(A/N: The end of the Iliad with some comic relief and lots of heartbreak at the end, because that's how the Iliad works. This isn't the last chapter about the Trojan War, but the next one will be. This is just the last part of the Iliad.)

.

Book Nineteen:

.

The next morning saw Thetis giving her son a freshly forged armour of such splendour, that Akhilleus was the only one who could even look at it directly.

As he marched the camp up and down, the other leaders came to the assembly, even though Agamemnon, Diomedes and Odysseus were severely injured and could hardly walk.

Akhilleus announced the end of his strike, much to the delight of the Achaean army.

He and Agamemnon finally talked things out and buried their old grudges.

“Right!”, Akhilleus exclaimed, “Enough talking! Let's go into battle already!”

“Not so fast!”, Odysseus (the resident braincell-owner) objected. “Our troops are exhausted  and many of us are wounded. We need all the energy we can get. So there is one more thing we have to do first!”

“And what would that be?”, Akhilleus snarled impatiently.

“Have breakfast”, Odysseus deadpanned.

“OH COME ON!!!”

“No.”

.

Book Twenty:

.

On Olympos Zeus had made his ex-wife Thémis gather all the gods (literally all of them – even the Naiades and Dryades¹). Tiredly they dragged themselves out of bed and into the assembly hall.

Poseidon was the first to speak.

“Sooooo”, he drawled, “What are you plotting now, Astrapaios²?”

Zeus was lounging on his throne like a boss.

“Oh, you know what I want, Ennosigaios³! I won't wish for Akhilleus to conquer the city just yet, but he will, if we're not careful. And this is why I hereby decree, that the prohibition is lifted! You may interfere with the battle as much as you please!”

Suddenly everyone was wide awake and those who had taken a side in the war went to ready themselves for a battle royal – uh, I mean battle divine.

Of the Olympians, Dionysos (one of the few gods who had refused to get involved at all) was the last to leave the room. He used the opportunity to question his father.

“Dad, if you don't mind …”

“Ask away!”

“Why exactly did you change your mind again?”

Zeus chuckled at his son's perceptiveness.

“For the reason I stated earlier of course. Well, that and because I want to amuse myself by sitting here in my neutrality and watching this divine spectacle.”

“… Can I sit with you?”

“Sure, my son! Bring wine, this is going to be good!”

.

The gods joined the war and wasted no time in making things more interesting … for them!

Eris was having a blast with this spectacle.

Zeus was setting the mood above with thunder and rain.

Poseidon struck the ground with his trident and the queen of earthquakes happened.

“WHAT THE FUCK???”, he heard Hades' voice shriek from below, “POSEIDON, WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU DOING??? IF THE GROUND BREAKS OPEN AND FALLS DOWN IT WILL REVEAL THE UNDERWORLD AND BURY EVERYTHING BENEATH!!!”

Poseidon laughed sheepishly and yelled back down: “SORRY, BRO!”

Maybe I overdid it with that earthquake …

Some distance away, Apollon had convinced Aineías, that fighting Akhilleus would be a brilliant idea.

Poseidon didn't notice until Hera pat his shoulder and said to him and Athena: “Uh, we have a little problem back there” - and pointed to where Aineías and Akhilleus were about to duke it out.

“Don't worry, sister”, he replied, “We're stronger than them. If any of Troy's gods comes close to Akhilleus, that's nothing we can't take care of.”

Still, the gods of the Achaeans didn't want to engage in a bloodbath, before agreeing on a strategy.

On the battlefield, Aineías and Akhilleus ran into each other and started with a verbal duel, before lunging at each other. Poseidon quickly assessed, that the son of Thetis was outclassing the son of Aphrodite.

“Alright, here I come!”, he sighed, “Apollon won't save him, but the youngster is fated to live.”

Then he threw himself into the maddening throng and momentarily blinded Akhilleus, before he could decapitate the disarmed Trojan. Grabbing the mortal by the arms, Poseidon took to flight and carried him away to safety.

“Okay!”, he snapped at him, once they were back on the ground, “First off: Are you fucking insane?! Trying to take on Akhilleus, who is favoured by the gods and far stronger than you? He will send you to Hades, before your time is up! Secondly: as long as he is alive, you stay away from battle, you dumbass son of an even more dumbass goddess!”

With that, the Lord of the Sea left Aineías behind to wonder what the heck had just happened.

.

Akhilleus on the other hand just shrugged it off and went back to slaughtering Trojans en masse.

Apollon had warned Hektor not to go against the deranged demigod, but when the Trojan prince saw one of his brothers get killed by that very man, he forgot the warning and attacked him.

Akhilleus immediately recognised the slayer of his dear soulmate and charged with a battle cry.

But Apollon, always having the best timing, stepped in and saved the Trojan.

Again.

This is getting old.

.

Book Twenty-One:

.

The Trojans were fleeing in panic from the deranged and bloodthirsty demigod.

But Hera conjured a thick fog, making it impossible for them to see.

Those who didn't get lost in the fog where cornered and driven into the holy waters of the river Xanthos (or Skamandros, as the mortals called him). They jumped or fell into the quick waters, struggling and screaming for help. Akhilleus in his blood rush jumped after them and slaughtered the Trojans, who were already drowning, dyeing the waters red with blood.

That pissed off the river god, because no one liked having their waters defiled with gore and corpses. Politely requesting Akhilleus to stop dumping corpses into his river didn't help, so Xanthos lost his temper and promptly left his riverbed to make the demigod stop.

Only when this colossal mass of water rose before him, was Akhilleus seized by fear and he made a run for it across the field. But the river always caught up to him, because he was still just a demigod and Xanthos a full god and gods just were stronger than mortals (unless you were Herakles).

Athena and Poseidon came to his rescue, before he could die a most unheroic death by drowning. They warned him to go back to the battlefield, kill Hektor and return to the Achaean camp, then they left to mind their own business.

But the river wasn't done yet; it joined forces with another river, both hell-bent on drowning Akhilleus.

This was seen by Hera, who turned to Hephaistos. “My son, I thought you would take care of the river god? What are you waiting for? Show him your destructive flames. I will release the winds to fuel them. Do not stop, until I ask you to.”

Hephaistos, powerful fire god that he was, raised his arms and unleashed his divine fire above the river (never mind, that it was still raining). Hera released the north and south wind.

The unearthly fire storm, hotter than the surface of the sun⁴, spread across the heath, consumed the bodies of the dead and made the rivers writhe in agony from being boiled alive.

Xanthos soon begged for mercy, but Hephaistos was only following his mother's orders, so the river turned to Hera and begged her to control her son.

Now the Queen of the Skies finally showed the mercy asked of her and told her son to stop.

Hephaistos rolled his eyes, but called his fire back.

Xanthos returned to his river bed, recovered from the torment and he stuck his head out of the water to glare at the fire god. “And here I thought you were not an arsehole!”

The divine blacksmith laughed: “Oh, you're wrong! I'm less of an arsehole than the other Olympians, but I still can be a prick!”

Hera chuckled in amusement.

.

On his throne on Olympos, Zeus was having the time of his life, because now the gods were charging at each other at last.

“Ohhh, now they're getting started! This is going to be priceless! Where are the wine, cookies and my camera?”

Hebe and Dionysos brought him both and then sat with him to enjoy the show.

.

In the meantime, Athena had finally turned to Ares.

“'Sup, arsehole”, she greeted him.

“'Sup, fellow arsehole”, he retorted. Then he had his sword out. “Don't think I have forgot how you let that fucker Diomedes pierce with a spear! Now it's time for payback!”

I thought he already had- oh, never mind.

He attacked first and they duked it out for a while, before he threw his spear at the impenetrable Aigis she was wearing on her chest. Athena leapt back, grabbed a stone and hit her opponent at the back of his neck with it.

Knocked out, he collapsed.

“Hah!”, she yelled in triumph. “I'm the one who gets the payback! That's for abandoning your mother and me in favour of supporting the Trojans! Well, that and the fucking prohibition you put into our father's head. What's that with you always forgetting what everyone has realised a long time ago: that I am stronger than you and always will be!”

“Ares!”

Athena whirled around to see the goddess of love running to her lover's aid.

Aphrodite grabbed Ares' arm and began to drag him to safety.

“Are you just letting her do that?”, Hera spat at Athena.

The goddess of wisdom rolled her eyes. “Alright, I'm on it!”

Strode up to Aphrodite, who was struggling under Ares' weight and hit her on the chest, knocking her out as well. There they lay, with the bright-eyed goddess standing above them.

“This is what happens to the allies of Troy and everyone who gets in my way!”, she snarled.

Aphrodite came to herself and glared up. “You're full of shit, Athena.”

The war goddess shrugged. “Look around, Aphrodite. Everyone here is full of shit. Especially you.”

.

At the same time, Poseidon was facing Apollon.

The sea god taunted his nephew: “What is stopping you, Sunny Boy, now that the others are at each other's throats?”

Apollon sighed: “Can you please not call me 'Sunny Boy'? That's Ares' shtick. Also-”

“Whatever, Sunny Boy. Where is the fun in going home without a single scratch? Let's duke it out! But first tell me: why are you supporting the Trojans? Don't you remember how they treated us? When Zeus stripped us of our immortality for a year, we had to serve Laomedon for a pittance! I built this mighty wall around Troy, while you herded his cattle. And when the year was finally over, he denied us pay and threatened to bind us, cut our ears off and sell us off as slaves! And you're helping the Trojans, after all of this? Explain!”

But Apollon remained calm.

“Does it really matter? Let's leave the mortals to their devices. I don't want to fight you over them, uncle. You're way out of my league, it would be madness.”

But Artemis grabbed him by the shoulder, outraged. “So you're chickening out?! You just give up and let him win?! If so, then don't ever let us hear you brag, that you could take on Poseidon!”

But Apollon just arched an eyebrow. “I'm not 'chickening out'. I just know, when to quit – unlike someone I know.”

As if on cue, Hera confronted Artemis: “You little brat! If you have the spine to make me or Poseidon your enemy, you're dumber than I thought! I will show you, just how outclassed you really are!”

Then she seized the goddess of the hunt by both wrists with one hand, tore her quiver and arrows off her shoulder with the other and smacked the shit out of her with it. When Hera was done with her, Artemis was running back to Olympos crying, leaving her bow and arrows on the battlefield.

Hermes saw this and let his opponent Leto take the win. The Titanis of motherhood gratefully gathered up the weapons of her daughter from the floor and returned to Olympos to console her.

Apollon blinked after them. “What the Tartaros did just happen?”

Poseidon laughed heartily: “Just because my sister is the goddess of marriage doesn't mean she can't kick arse! Or where do you think Ares got his temper from?”

The Earthshaker looked to the sky and knew that Zeus was shaking with laughter.

.

On the battlefield Akhilleus was still massacring Trojans left and right.

The king Priamos saw this from the top of the wall and ordered for the gates to be opened, so his people could save themselves.

Apollon came onto the field through the gates and held his hand over them, while they scrambled to the sweet safety of their city. He took the shape of a Trojan Akhilleus had been about to kill and allowed to chase him across the field, away from the gates of Troy. That bought the Trojans the time they needed to escape the wrath of Thetis' son.

All of them, except for Hektor; he didn't make it in time, before the gates closed.

The greatest warrior of the Trojans was shut outside.

.

Book Twenty-Two:

.

Apollon led Akhilleus away from Troy, before finally turning around.

“Hey, arsehole! Guess who!” And dropped his disguise.

Then he proceeded to mock the raging demigod, who was out of breath after chasing him for kilometres: “While you ran after me like a moron, thinking that you stand a chance against me, the Trojans have barricaded themselves inside their city! They are out of your reach and you will never defeat me, Apollon!”

“You … you deceived me!”, Akhilleus gasped, “So is … the most lethal of the gods … the protector of Troy … otherwise I would have killed them all! But damn you! If it was in my power, I would give you payback!”

Apollon gritted his teeth: “But you can't, mortal.”

Akhilleus screamed in fury and dashed back to Troy with swift feet.

Hektor was waiting in front of the walls of Troy to challenge vengeful Akhilleus and face his imminent demise.

On top of the walls, his aged father was weeping over the cruelty of fate: that he would have to see his sons and many of his people die, his city sacked, his daughters ravaged, his grandchildren and himself murdered, his daughters-in-law sold into slavery.

But no matter how much Priamos beseeched him, Hektor didn't yield and stayed where he was, even though he was terrified. Yet as soon as he saw Akhilleus clearly, bloodthirsty and deranged like Ares himself, his flight instinct kicked in and he ran for his life. Only Apollon's assistance prevented the son of Thetis from catching up to Hektor.

.

While Akhilleus chased the slayer of Patroklos around the city walls three times in a row, the gods were watching from above.

Zeus shook his head. “I don't like seeing him being chased around his own city like that. And it's really a shame, that he should die already. He always honoured us gods beyond measure. Should I save this noble man or-”

“No!”, Athena protested at once, “His time is up, he must die! We can't randomly spare mortals, just because we favour them. Do whatever you want, but none of us will approve.”

“… Do what you must, but do it quickly.”

On Olympos, in the Room of Fate, the Scales of Fate weighed the lot of Hektor against Akhilleus.

That of Hektor sank, that of Akhilleus rose up.

.

Apollon, as the god of prophecy, sensed the shift and reluctantly left Hektor to face his doom.

Athena on the other hand joined the angry Akhilleus.

“Today the Achaeans will gain a most glorious victory! We shall slay Hektor! He is destined to die by our hands and not even Apollon's pleas to Zeus will save him now. Now hold up and catch your breath, while I persuade him to face you in battle.”

She caught up to Hektor in the shape of one of his brothers and did exactly that.

So the Trojan prince whirled around to face the son of Peleus.

They had a short dispute. Hektor entreated his opponent to agree, that the loser be returned to his people to receive a proper burial.

But Akhilleus refused: “FUCK YOUR PROPOSAL! YOU WILL PAY FOR THE DEATH OF PATROKLOS AND ALL OF MY FRIENDS WHOM YOU KILLED!!!”

“OH SHUT UP, ARSEHOLE! YOU AND YOUR COMRADES KILLED MOST OF MY FAMILY AND FRIENDS TOO! AND ONCE YOU TAKE OVER OUR CITY, YOU WILL RAVAGE IT, MASSACRE THE CIVILIANS, VIOLATE AND ENSLAVE OUR WOMEN AND KILL OUR CHILDREN!!! I AM DOING WHATEVER I CAN TO PROTECT THEM!!! YOU DON'T GET TO JUDGE ME!!!”, Hektor roared in outrage.⁵

Then they threw their spears at each other.

Hektor dodged that of Akhilleus, but his own weapon flew far off, guided by Athena's hand. When he turned to whom he had thought to be his dear brother to ask for a new spear, but found him gone.

The Trojan prince realised, that he had been tricked by Athena and that the gods had decided his doom a long time ago.

“Well, fuck this shit”, he muttered, pulled his sword to face his last battle.

Their fight was short and brutal.

At long last, Akhilleus managed to stab him in the throat.

But he had narrowly missed the windpipe and so Hektor was able to rattle a few last words.

“If you have … an ounce of honour … return my corpse … to my parents … so I can be buried.”

“No.”

“Thought as much … but know this … you're – ugh! – angering the gods … you will die … by Apollon's and Paris' arrows …”

Then the greatest defender of Troy died.

For a while Akhilleus stood silently above him.

Then he finally replied to the dead man: “I know. And I don't care.”

And proceeded to outrage his vanquished enemy's corpse by tying it to his chariot and dragging it around his city several times.

While on the walls above, his grieving parents, his sorrow-stricken wife Andromákhe and the people of Troy were weeping to the Heavens.

.

Book Twenty-Three:

.

Akhilleus held funeral games for Patroklos and, after much more mourning, finally delivered him to the pyre.

Hektor's dishonoured corpse on the other hand he left to the dogs.

The dogs that would not go near it; the presence of the goddess Aphrodite, who guarded it night and day, kept them away. She and Apollon preserved his corpse, so that neither the scorching sun, nor being hauled around by Akhilleus could damage it.

The burned remains of Patroklos were put to rest in a golden urn – one that his ghost had asked Akhilleus to put them in and mix them with his own, once the son of Thetis would die.

.

Book Twenty-Four:

.

All the while Apollon had protected Hektor's corpse from being mutilated, while Akhilleus didn't stop treating it like that of a common criminal.

Day after day he and the other gods who were supporting Troy begged Zeus to send Hermes to steal away the body. And every time Poseidon, Hera and Athena had been against it, unyielding in their old grudges.

After a week, the god of light finally had enough.

“How much longer”, he confronted the other gods, “do you want to allow Akhilleus to abuse the body of Hektor in such a foul manner?! Does none of you have a heart?! Has he ever failed to give you the best possible sacrifices?! Instead of returned his body to his people to receive the funeral he deserves, you choose being butt-hurt about the stupidity of that wuss Paris and that's why you help that sociopath Akhilleus, who doesn't have an ounce of propriety, shame or even respect in his chest! Many others are mourning their loved ones and he acts like he's the only one! As honourable as his parents are, they failed to raise a decent human being!“

Hera jumped up and pointed a finger at him: “Stop going on about Hektor, like he has ever been Akhilleus' equal! One was only a full mortal, while the other is the son of Thetis, whom I raised and married to Peleus, who we all were fond of!”

“That doesn't change the fact, that Akhilleus is a fucking arsehole!”, Apollon snapped.

“Or that he wouldn't know honour, if it spat in his face!”, Artemis agreed.

“Or that he's a whiny mother's boy”, Ares added.

Hera flushed with rage. “How dare you!”, she exclaimed, “All of you have been at the wedding of his parents! You ate, drank, danced and made music-”

“So?”, Ares said coldly, “Akhilleus is not his parents. We are not obliged to him, nor to Thetis and Peleus and definitely not to you. Hektor respected us gods and other humans more than he does.”

Hera's eyes narrowed. “That's it! I will-”

“ENOUGH!!!”, Zeus thundered and everyone fell silent.

Angrily he turned to Hera: “I've had enough of your attitude! No one here is putting Hektor and Akhilleus on the same level! And all things considered, Hektor was beloved by us. He always knew what kind of sacrifices I and all of you wished for, never failed to honour us and only gave us the best of the best. Still, stealing the body is not an option either. Bring me Thetis. She shall persuade her son to give Hektor's body up to his father.”

After Thetis had been welcomed by the gods, Zeus cut to the chase: “Let your son know, that we're angered by his behaviour. He is to return the body of Hektor to the Trojans for ransom – this is my will. He knows what happens to mortals, who do not follow it.”

Thetis nodded and returned to her son to inform him of Zeus' decree.

.

Later that evening Iris descended to the earth again, this time to tell Priamos, that Zeus was doing him one last favour: the returning of his son's body.

So Priamos packed rich gifts as ransom and went, but not before making a sacrifice of Zeus and venting his bitterness about how the cruelty of Ares had robbed and would keep robbing him of his loved ones.

As Zeus saw the elderly man and his aged herald cross the bloodstained plain in the darkness, he was overcome by pity. He waved Hermes over and fondly ruffled the messenger's hair.

The second youngest Olympian endured it, as always.

“My beloved son, who holds mankind dearest, guides them and listens to them. Go and escort Priamos to the Achaean ships, but make sure that no one sees him, before he stands in front of the son of Peleus.”

Hermes put on his winged sandals and staff and landed on the coast near the ships in the guise of a young soldier from Akhilleus' troops. With his staff, he lulled the Achaeans to sleep, before going to find Priamos.

As he came into the king's field of view, he could tell that the old man was frightened.

But Hermes gently took the old man's hands and asked kindly: “Who are you, sir? What are you and your companion there doing out here in the middle of the night and with so much treasure? Don't you know how dangerous that is?”

“You're right, young man”, Priamos replied, “But one god must have at least some mercy with me. It must be a good omen, that we meet you here; I can see your wisdom as well as your beauty – you must have blessed parents.”

That I do, Hermes thought fondly, but kept his focus.

“That's true. But do answer my question. Are you trying to hide them, or are you all fleeing your city in panic, because you lost your best fighter – your son Hektor, the greatest of your warriors?”

Priamos tilted his head. “How do you know about my son? Who are you?”

“One of the soldiers of Akhilleus”, Hermes fibbed, “I often saw your son on the field of glory, even when we weren't allowed to fight, because our lord wouldn't let us.”

“Really!”, the king cried hopefully, “Tell me, what happened to my son's body? Is it still intact at the ships? Akhilleus didn't … he didn't … did he …?”

“It's still intact”, the Messenger soothed him. “Nothing of the outrage it suffered by Akhilleus could damage it – if it wasn't for the wounds, one could think he's sleeping! The gods care for him even in death.”

He couldn't help but feel horrible for the sorrow-stricken old man, who nearly burst into tears at these news and who really deserved better than all this woe.

Deciding to make it quick, before the mortal's suffering could get to him, Hermes guided Priamos to Akhilleus' tent.

Once there, he revealed himself: “Now I can tell you, that I am the god Hermes. My father sent me to guide and protect you. I must stay outside, because I don't want the trouble of being seen. But listen to me: when you go in there, clasp the knees of Peleus' son and beseech him in the name of his own dear parents, if you want him to hear you.”

.

Akhilleus gaped in amazement, as none other than Priamos came before him.

The long-suffering king of Troy fell onto his knees in front of his greatest enemy, clasping the knees and kissing the hands of the man, who had slain his children.

After reminding him of his father Peleus, who was waiting for his son to come home, Priamos ended his plea: “Fifty sons I had, before you Achaeans came and I got to keep none of them! Most were felled by cruel Ares. And the one son I could count on, the defender of my city and its inhabitants – oh Hektor, my child! – fell by your hand. I'm here to ransom him with rich gifts. Respect the gods and think of your father. Even more than him I have a right to your mercy, because I did what no other father in the world could ever bring himself to do: I kissed the hand of the man who murdered my son.”

The sight of this old man's infinite grief and the memory of his own father, who too would never see him again, did something to Akhilleus.

There was no more wrath in him, only sadness and grief.

That and something new.

Something he had never felt before: Compassion.

.

Hektor's body was ransomed and returned to his people.

Even on Olympos the gods could hear the crying of the Trojans for their prince.

The people, who mourned their greatest hero.

His parents, who lost their dearest son.

His remaining siblings, who lost the brother they had looked up to.

His widow, who hadn't been able to be at her husband's side, while he was dying.

Helena, who had been taken here against her will and was now mourning the only man besides Priamos, who had treated her with kindness, the only friend she'd had here.

The Trojans keened and bewailed Hektor for ten days.

On the eleventh day he was brought to the pyre.

The smoke rose high and with it carried prayers and weeping.

.

---

.

1) Naiades: river nymphs; Dryades: tree nymphs.

2) Astrapaios: "Lord of Lightning", one of Zeus' epithets.

3) Ennosigaios: "Shaker of the Earth", one of Poseidon's epithets.

4) The surface of the sun is appr. 5000°C hot.

5) In the Iliad Hektor doesn't actually respond to Akhilleus' refusal like that, but I thought that this was important to point out.

[karanguni]

2019-2020 Reading List

Backreading my DW is like looking into a manic portal of incoherence, goodness. I suppose I rarely show up when life is normal, only when Yuletide is happening or something is on fire. So in an attempt to attempt something less on-fire, my started-but-incomplete reading list that I'm trying to get through before 2020 arrives:

Non-fiction...y

Making Time: Astronomical Time Measurement in Tokugawa Japan - Yulia Frumer Hugely, hugely interesting; I picked it up two? years ago and somehow just stalled out, so it's at the top of my list to just be polished off. I want to do so much art or graphical representation of the things I learned in this book. King Leopold's Ghost - Adam Hochschild tl;dr Leopold was a bad man. This one falls into the category of a sort of rah-rah non-fiction writing style that I dislike, but I am attempting to power through. Six Memos for The Next Millennium - Italo Calvino, trans. forgot-because-not-on-hand Can't help but feel this would read better in the original Italian, and if I were a touch more the literary type, but I'm enjoying reading essays again. Sort of remind me of Eco's essays, but not as keenly translated. The translator's notes are in themselves interesting; tldr "this was a group project across a few translation teams, but at the end I just threw the collective work out the window and did it myself for consistency, lol". The Arthashastra - Kautilya, trans. L.N. Rangarajan Talk about interesting but awful translation, omg. This one. This one! I feel like I'm reading at once this awesome manual on statecraft, and then on the other hand an insane copy-pasta-rearrange-a by the translator. I have to read the foot- and endnotes, of which there are many, just to get ahead of why things seem to suddenly stop making argumentative sense. EDITIORIALISING OF ORIGINAL TEXTS IS NOT FUN.

Fiction...y

A Memory Called Empire - Arkady Martine Picked it up because I knew it would be big for Yuletide; enjoying it so far. About 40% through, probably will finish before assignments are due. I Know Why The Caged Bird Sings - Maya Angelou Catching up on all the things I'm dreadfully uneducated in. I've been pecking at this for a few years (!) now, but have to do it in small pieces because it's good but hurts so badly. The Iliad - Homer, trans. Caroline Alexander Been very excited about the new female translators, but then ten pages in and I sort of drift away... --- Written out like this, there isn't much! I just finished Exhalation: Stories - Ted Chiang and Calvino's Invisible Cities, which have been on my to-read list for a long time. I have a copy of Li He on my shelf from a year or two ago, but I don't think one ever "finishes" poetry collections, right? Right? I should persevere! comments Comment on DW: https://ift.tt/2NrqWrj

[jerrykatt]

Voltron/Percy Jackson Crossover Idea

Keith as the Son of Aphrodite (No no no HEAR ME OUT THINK OF THE POSSIBILITIES!!! Krolia's badass self is the epitome of beauty and Papa Kogane totally knew it.)

Here's how everything began. The was an internal conflict among the gods, Uranus (Zarkon) and Gaea (Haggar) rose from the depths of their realms and had been in cahoots since 10,000 years ago. FAR LONGER than anyone could have anticipated. At first Uranus/Zarkon was a good leader just like in canon but was driven to insanity alongside his dearest wife. Now they are chess masters - maneuvering the world's fate by placing pawns in the right places, sending monsters after helpless mortals and defiant demigods alike. Cronus (Sendak) was given a Sickle/Wicked Weapon Arm by Gaea (Haggar) and was manipulated into "bringing down Uranus" just like in the myth - only it's just a ruse. Uranus/Zarkon had planned to step out of the picture to lure everyone into a false sense of security while he gathered strength in a healing coma. Haggar/Gaea commanded everything in his place, in the shadows of course, that damn wicked witch.

The curious and most fascinating part about this is that Aphrodite (Krolia) was still born from the foam of Uranus/Zarkon's castration. She is his child. But Haggar makes no move towards her because Zeus (King Alfor) had managed to fabricate her origins into being his daughter instead. Aphrodite became the daughter of Zeus and Dione just like it was described in the Homer's Iliad. Still even if Haggar had figured out it was a lie, she would have never accepted Krolia, after all, she had no use for a goddess of something as appalling to her as love. Such emotional vulnerability would have been nothing but a disgraceful weakness. Haggar would've killed Krolia in cold blood, no question.

Anyways, fast forward, and we have Zeus/King Alfor taking command of the gods after defeating Sendak/Cronus. Greece and Rome and every ancient civilization have been left behind in history books. Camp Half blood and Camp Jupiter have both been established in America and Olympus now resides in New York. Dionysus (Iverson) is the Camp Director. Chiron (Coran) is the activities directer. Argus (Antok) is the Security Guard.

Bonus: Slav is the Oracle

...

(Gods save us all from prophecies that include anecdotes about Alternate Realities. I'm so sorry Shiro.)

Moving on, everything in PJO and HOO and all the other series still happens but there are key differences. Thalia, Grover, Annabeth, and Luke had one more tagalong. Allura Altea had been just 14 when she had to escape the Monster (Robeast) that made a massacre of her mother (Zarkon and Haggar's doing). She had come across a 7 year old Annabeth Chase and took care of her until they were joined by Thalia Grace and Luke Castellan. Grover tried to get them to Camp Half Blood but Hades (Kolivan??? Maybe???) was not so kind. His resentment over his lost children and the hypocrisy of Zeus driving him to kill them, just as his own children had been unfairly brought down. He sent monsters after them. And in the end, Allura and Thalia found out that they were family in the hardest way. The moment they chose to stand together to protect their friends, the moment they fell and their souls were caught by the strangely familiar hands of the Ruler of Olympus, the moment their energies were twined together into the roots of a single pine tree, they knew.

They were sisters.

They were family.

(Now, as heartbroken as I am about writing that part, I must keep the show going.)

On to the main event, Keith's story, the one the inevitably ties everything together.

Keith was raised by his mortal father, a firefighter residing in Houston Texas. A firefighter who died in the very same fire that took the life of Esperanza Valdez. Kogane had arrived at the scene just a few ticks too late. Gaea/Haggar had turned Leo's pyrokinetic abilities against him, the mechanic shop was about to go inferno, and in the haze of flames that began to swallow Esperanza from the ground up, she met his eyes with a gaze that, regardless of already being blinded by the heat, held all the resolution of a mother. Of someone with a legacy to protect.

She mouthed to him in her dying moments.

"Save my son"

And he did. He saved Leo, but Haggar had lingered.

Enraged at the man who dared to sabotage her attempt at murdering one of the demigods destined to defeat her before her plans and Zarkon's could come into fruition, she commanded the earth to rise up through the flooring and trap his legs just as he was about to climb out the window and onto the ladder that would bring him and the crying boy in his arms to safety.

Kogane wasn't stupid. He knew by now that this fire wasn't set off by no gas leak. He also knew that other more powerful forces were at work here. He had tangled with the gods before, had even been left behind by the one he loved most with a son that he had yet to tell of his divine heritage.

This was planned. A God wanted the people in this house dead and sent to Hades without a by your leave.

He looked down.

The boy in his arms was just the same age as his own son, with a scruffy mop of curly hair and an impish face twisted in fresh knife sharp pain of a loved one lost.

This boy was a demigod, he realized numbly with a sinking surety, and right now the little one was the only one able to move.

"Go," Kogane told him as he bent over the windowsill and set him on the ladder, the boy's face looking back at him with startled confusion. Then those young eyes widened with nightmarish realization as he finished with the command, "And don't look back."

The flames consumed him. And his greatest regret was the fact he could no longer be a father.

(ILL FINISH LATER I PROMISE BUT I HAVE WORK AND MY BOSS IS SCARIER THAN HAGGAR)

Anyways here's the line up. I've gotta go to work. ILL BE BACK WITH MORE IF ANYONE  IS INTERESTED.

Allura Daughter of Zeus (King Alfor)

Shiro Son of Jupiter (I'll explain later)

Keith Son of Aphrodite (Krolia)

Lance Son of Hermes (again I'll explain later but mostly? It's for character development)

Hunk Son of Demeter (Bless him and his harvest)

Both Matt and Pidge are children of Athena (Colleen). The goddess of wisdom just couldn't get over the man whom dared argue with her on double modulation.

[dramioneasks]

what are the most saddest and angsty one-shots you guys could recommend? preferably with dramione end game, no non-com (and the likes) as well as infidelity, and if they don’t end up together i want it to be bc of death. i feel like having my heart break! tysm btw!💖

Hi, try these:

Ghosts in a Wishing Well by namelessamelie - M, one shot -He could never stay away for very long. / “Everything is more beautiful because we’re doomed. You will never be lovelier than you are now. We will never be here again.” - The Iliad / COMPLETE!

Cellar Door by somandalicious - M, one shot -Her love is the finest of insanity. Idiosyncratic and wistful. — HGDM

Silent as the Night by Magical words from Muggle pens - M, one shot -He only gazed, he never spoke… Draco/Hermione: One shot.

Silhouettes by Bex-chan - M, one shot -“He would’ve known her silhouette in a room made of shadows.” A ghost story that’s not about ghosts at all. Dramione one-shot. EWE.

Love Me Twice by Bex-chan - M, one shot -’“They tore her apart and then wiped me out of her mind to send me a message. To mess up my life. To break…” he trailed off. Blaise nodded his head with understanding. “To break your heart,” he finished for him.’ Dramione. One-shot.

A Hundred Days, chapter 2 of Draught of Living Death by olivieblake - M, one shot -Originally posted in Amortentia and now revised, reworked, and moved here. Draco Malfoy is made to pay the price for his crimes for one hundred days - but it’s the hundred days before them that are the ones that change his life.

In Seven Days by MiHnn - M, one shot -Co-workers Draco Malfoy and Hermione Granger work well together as Partners of a firm. Can seven days change that? - “I’d rather not,” he said softly. Stepping back, he let the elevator door close, trying to block out that one moment of weakness he promised himself never to give in to.

Fall For You by shadesofgrey1321 - M, one shot -It has been a year, a long and miserable year. But despite a broken relationship, harsh words and a lifetime’s worth of pain, it’ll be the night of falling in love all over again.

Blood in My Heart by Elysium66  - T, one shot -She feels the warmth of his breath on her cheek, the firm pressure of his kiss, and thinks her heart breaks again. Not the chip, chip of before. This time it’s ragged and red and pulsing. She’s a mass of poorly sewn parts in that moment.

And finally, this one, which is really, really sad, but incredibly beautiful:

Eyes Open by Day Met the Night - T, one shot -“He’s let the envelope fall into his palm. If she’s surprised, she doesn’t show it. ‘You know the rules, don’t you’ ‘Only for when I’m at my lowest point,’ he says. 'And after I open it, I go straight to you.’” Ten years later, and he’s falling in love with her. Hard T. Major Character Death. Angst. Dramione.

-gumwouldbperfection

[murfpersonalblog]

I disagree that Andy became an immortal in c.900 BC. If anything, she became an immortal even earlier, during the 1200-1100 BC time of Homer’s Trojan War (13th-12th cent BC).

ANDY’S AGE & IMMORTALITY (& ANNE RICE)

Homer (8th-7th cent BC) is the earliest source of info about Amazons. Homer’s Amazons in the Iliad are goddesses -- daughters of Ares, and like Ares they are war deities who, though immortal, can still be mortally injured and even killed (Hippolyta, Penthesilea, etc--even Ares was gravely wounded by Diomedes at Troy).

if Andy’s supposed to be THE Amazon, she would’ve lived during the Trojan War, when the Amazons were really making an impression on the Greek imagination.

Pushing the envelope even further, she could’ve been born even earlier, some time around 1280-1220 BC, when Heracles and the other Greek demigods would have encountered Amazons before the Trojan War. This still makes her almost 4000 years old, but I think that if Andy’s “an Amazonian goddess” with a Greek name, then she CERTAINLY lived before the Bronze Age Collapse, which puts her well before 900 BC. Especially since she shares a name with Hector’s wife, Andromache (though I doubt they’re the same woman, but who knows).

Sure, a 4000-6000+ year old immortal’s pretty unfathomable, but Andy’s described as “a goddess” for that very reason. I’m actually reminded of Anne Rice’s Vampire Chronicles, where she has plenty of immortal characters who predate the earliest major civilizations. In particular, there’s the iconic vampire twins Maharet and Mekare, who are also 6000+ years old, and who suffered almost the exact same punishment as Andy & Quynh/Noriko:

two codependent immortal women accused of witchcraft

forcefully separated from each other to opposite sides of the earth

Just like Quynh, Mekare’s locked in a coffin and dumped in the ocean, lost for hundreds and thousands of years

the two women are finally reunited when the coffin finally disintegrates

Like Noriko/Quynh, Mekare is completely insane, having suffered isolation and unending torment for aeons

Like Noriko, Mekare is driven solely by her mad desire for vengeance against those who wronged her, and her desperation to be reunited with Maharet again.

Maharet is only living for the sake of her “family” (distant descendants of her relatives’ offspring), and the everlasting hope that she’ll one day be reunited with the long lost Mekare.

So, Andy’s extreme age doesn’t really bother me. Her story is actually pretty derivative. But like OP said, a lot of things just don’t add up:

ANDY’S NAME & COUNTRY ORIGINS

HOMELAND

Possibly the 3 most popular sources of Amazons (Homer, Herodotus, and Strabo) all have different accounts of who, what, where, and when the Amazons were. Strabo (1st cent BC) popularizes Scythian Amazons living in the northern Eurasian steppes -- though he also has a lot to say about them also living in the Caucus Mountains and Asia Minor, near the Gargareans. But that’s what happens when nomadic peoples across an enormous landmass are generalized as being one people(s). 🤣

Herodotus (6th-5th cent BC) is the earliest known source to talk about Scythians in relation to Amazons, but he never said Amazons WERE originally Scythian, just that they FOUGHT Scythians, and learned the Scythian language, though Scythians couldn’t learn the Amazonian language. Homer’s Amazons are Phrygian (Eurasians from Asia Minor), not Scythian (Eurasians from the northern steppes). So we’ve already got conflicting information, made even more muddled because writers are talking about Amazons hundreds of years apart from one another. 

NAME

“Andromache,” like “Amazon,” denotes females in their capacity as “the killers of men,“ according to Herodotus. Andy’s old enough to have forgotten more than than even the smartest person knows--including, perhaps, her own birth name (and exactly how old she even is: unreliable narrators ahoy!). She could’ve had multiple names over the millennia, but whatever happened by the time she would’ve been known as “Andromache the Scythian” obviously stuck.

I highly doubt she would’ve had that name in the 9th-8th cent. (900-700 BC when Scythian cultures were emerging), because the Greeks weren’t even writing about them (or calling them by that name) that early. Surviving 7th cent BC cuneiform documents describe them fighting the Assyrians & Medians, and they are called by completely different Asian names, not Greek ones. And on a related linguistic/epigraphic note, considering the changes and developments in the Greek language itself during the Bronze-Iron Ages, I doubt her name would’ve been “Andromache“ at that time, either.

So I agree, “Andromache the Scythian” isn’t her real name at all, and what’s more: I think she’s probably not even Scythian--but because she’s a nomad (an immortal wanderer whose original homeland likely didn’t even EXIST anymore in 9th-5th cent BC), that’s the people she stuck with, and name she went by for ~1000 years by the time she met Quynh.

HORSE DOMESTICATION

I disagree with OP that Andy couldn’t’ve been a horse riding warrior in 4000 BC. There were several Dnieper & Black Sea nomadic hunter-gatherer cultures who DID domesticate horses around 4000 BC. There are Samara culture Iranian horse burials dating to 3000 BC (Iran being the “origin” of the “Scythian” people), too. If Andy’s indeed a 6000+ year old “Scythian” from the northern Eurasian steppes, she might be some sort of Kurgan, and she could very well have been a mounted warrior at that time, because they did have horses that early.

Yes, there are anachronisms and inaccuracies aplenty in her visual depictions (in both the comics and film--hello, Charlize Theron ain’t even Eurasian), but I would never expect The Old Guard to be in any way a source of reliable historical data or research, either.

But yes, I agree that Greg Rucka probably wasn’t motivated by historical accuracy when he created Andromache the Scythian. Scythians, Amazons and Andy’s Greek name as “the man-fighter” are products of Greek misconceptions about nomadic peoples across Eurasia whom the Greeks really didn’t know eff all about. 🙄

greg rucka is wrong about how old andy is and here’s why

Greg Rucka, author of both The Old Guard comics and the screenplay, claims Andy is 6,000 years old. Charlize Theron and other members of the movie’s creative team have repeated the number, although it’s not stated in the movie itself–when questioned, Andy just says she’s “too old” and Booker tells Nile that Andy’s forgotten.

Now, besides the fact that 6,000 is a patently ridiculous age, even for someone who can’t die, me and my twelve Wikipedia articles would beg to differ on the historical accuracy of Andy being quite that old. (Keep in mind, though, that I haven’t read the comics. I’m going off of this official timeline video–which does include some comic panels–and the brief flashbacks we get in the movie.)

First of all, if Andy’s 6,000 years old, that puts her date of birth around 4000 BCE

the Scythian cultures did not exist in 4000 BCE

the cultures that would become the Scythian cultures did not exist in 4000 BCE

in 4000 BCE, Mesopotamian civilization was just getting started, the Indus River Valley civilization had yet to invent writing, and the hot new invention was the pottery wheel, although nobody had figured out how to turn that sideways to make a vehicle yet

more importantly, horses had not been domesticated (okay, technically 4000 BCE is the oldest proposed date for the domestication of horses, but there’s much stronger evidence supporting domestication closer to 2000 BCE)

HOW ARE YOU GOING TO BE A HORSELORD RAIDER SWEEPING ACROSS THE STEPPE IF HORSES HADN’T BEEN DOMESTICATED YET

Andy’s also shown in comic panels using stirrups at this time, which wouldn’t come into widespread use until the 3rd century CE in China, but whatever

my point is

if Andy’s old enough to be a Proto-Indo-European

why is her name Andromache the Scythian

Classical Scythian culture reached its height between 700-300 BCE

by that point, Andy would have been 3,300 years old already

she found Quynh in 1000 BCE

yet in flashbacks Quynh calls her Andromache, a name she had to have acquired after they met

heck, Andy calls herself Andromache the Scythian, and continues to do so for the next 3,000-ish years

what would have been so great about those few centuries in Scythia that that’s the name and title Andy chooses to go with over her birth-name or any other approximation of it or where she’s from

there’s absolutely no reason for her to

except that Greg Rucka did approximately zero research when deciding this

well, that’s not true. he did enough to know that the Scythians were the inspiration for the Amazons in Ancient Greek writing. Andy is clearly THE Amazon archetype

yet he somehow decided that making Andy contemporary with ANCIENT SUMERIA was just totally fine???

Anyway, I have taken my hammer (and my sixteen Wikipedia articles) and fixed the canon. You’re welcome, Mr. Rucka.

I said above that the height of Classical Scythian culture was from 700-300 BCE. this is true for the tribes that came to dominate the Pontic steppe, between the Black Sea and the Caspian Sea

but there were other groups of similar cultures that stretched across the whole Eurasian steppe

contemporary Greek and Persian writers lumped them all together under one name

modern scholars still refer to them collectively as Scythian cultures (despite some confusion in the literature as a result)

these various cultures flourished from 900 BCE to 200 CE

so Andy becomes immortal around 900 BCE

she’s almost 3,000 years old. that’s still way older than anyone else in the Old Guard

Quynh becomes immortal around 500 BCE. She’s likely a member of the Yue kingdom in what is now southern China/northern Vietnam (purely my headcanon, though–other people feel free to imagine differently). Andy has been completely alone for 400 years.

it takes a century for Andy to find Quynh, so about 400 BCE. This is during the Warring States Period in China, a time of such prolonged conflict that it would make sense for Quynh to have given in to despair (again this bit is pure headcanon).

that gives them plenty of time to meet up with Lykon when he becomes immortal in 331 BCE, and the rest of the canon timeline can proceed from there without making me implode

i hope you like it

[skywalkerbc]

The Beauty in the Damnation

Written by: bellarkebc

AO3 Link

Summary:

(Based on an anon prompt)

Bellarke soulmate AU where when you get a tattoo, it appears on your soulmate as well.

or

Of course Clarke's soulmate would be such a fucking nerd

~ ~

“Everything is more beautiful because we are doomed. You will never be lovelier than you are now. We will never be here again.” - Homer, The Iliad                                            

~ ~ ~ ~

It’s fitting, she thinks, that her soulmate is such a fucking nerd. ‘Who better than a nerd for Clarke Griffin, our crazy smart pre-med student?’ her friend Jasper would say. To which he’d only ever gotten an eye roll in response. But yeah, she agrees. It definitely is fitting that she got a nerd instead some stupid asshole who thought she fit the dumb blonde description.

Clarke got her soulmark on a Thursday, in the middle of games night at Raven’s place. One minute she had been beating all their asses at Mario Kart, the next, black writing had appeared on her arm, making her jerk her controller to the right so fast that she plummeted straight off of rainbow road.

“Holy shit.” She says, staring at the words, still clutching the controller tightly in her hands.

“Yeah I know Clarke, what a blow! First place to twelfth…Haha suck it Monty!” Raven says from beside her, furiously turning to avoid falling into the abyss after shooting Monty with a red shell.

“No..I mean, well yeah that sucked but…holy shit.”

Monty pauses the game, causing the others to all groan and shout out a few choruses of complaints.

He turns from his place at Clarke’s feet to look at her. He opens his mouth to speak but before he says a thing, his eyes catch onto the, very new, soul mark on her wrist.

“Holy shit.” He says.

“That’s what I said.”

“Ahhhhhhh! Clarkey has a soulmate!” Jasper exclaims, jumping up from his position on the other couch to grab at Clarke’s wrist.

“What does it say? What does it say?” Raven asks him excitedly, leaning over Clarke’s shoulder.

Clarke tries to shrug them both off but Jasper’s grip is insane, and Raven is stubborn. She relents, letting him turn her arm to read the words.

“Everything is more beautiful because we are doomed…” Jasper reads.

“Huh.” Monty says, still staring at the cursive writing.

“That’s strangely poetic.” Jasper says, finally letting go of Clarke’s wrist.

“It’s from the Iliad.” Clarke says to the others, still a little in shock that she had an actual soulmate. It wasn’t like it was rare to have a soulmate nowadays, but it wasn’t exactly common either. Clarke’s fingers trace over the words running up her forearm.

Raven snorts suddenly.

“Of course your soulmate would be a fucking nerd.” She says, patting Clarke on the shoulder. She sinks back into the couch and grabs at her controller, nudging at Monty with her foot.

“Unpause it Monty, I was whipping all of your asses!”

Monty gives one last look to Clarke before grinning at Raven and unpausing the game.

“Oh you’re on Reyes.”

Clarke smiles softly at her friends, watching as Jasper quickly darts back over to the other couch to grab his controller.

“I call cheat!” He yells, furiously pushing the button to accelerate.

She leaves her controller in her lap and silently stares at the words, reading over and over them again.

‘Everything is more beautiful because we are doomed.’ She reads.

Looking back on her life, she can’t help but agree.

~ ~ ~ ~

Not that Clarke had ever thought she had to be one of those people with a soulmate, but she had definitely fantasised possible meet-cutes she’d have if she was lucky enough to have one.

And can she just say, meeting her soulmate by hitting them with her car, certainly wasn’t any of the scenarios she had imagined.

Her day had been pretty ordinary in terms of how days go. Her barista didn’t spill hot coffee on her blouse, her car hadn’t broken down and she wasn’t late to work so her day wasn’t all that bad….but then again, the hot barista hadn’t given Clarke her number either and she could feel the start of a migraine coming on. So yeah. Not good, not bad. Kinda just cruising in the middle in terms of how days go.

Until she hit a guy with her car of course.

It was an insane hour on a Saturday morning, and Clarke was driving into the art studio she worked for. (Student loans didn’t pay themselves, so for about the next 209 years, she was going to be stuck trying to earn money on her weekends. Just so she could eat something with more nutrition than instant ramen and keep the lights on in her apartment.) When she came up to a red light, she slowed to a stop and took the opportunity to take a long scalding sip of the coffee the hot barista had given her this morning. Hoping the caffeine would wake her up after her late night finishing up assignments for school, she takes another long sip.

A car honking behind her makes her roll her eyes and and put her coffee back down (extra slow) into the middle console.

“I can see the green light you nitwit.” She mutters under her breath, purposefully taking a long time to accelerate. (Sue her. She hates impatient people and loves being passive aggressive).

Just as she is about to put her foot down further on the pedal, a random man steps out from in between two cars and walks directly in front of her car. Shrieking, Clarke slams her foot on the break. Her hands come up to cover her mouth when the impact of the car sends the man over her windscreen.

“Holy shit.” She says, wrestling with her seatbelt to get out of the car.

She can already see a crowd of people stopping on the sidewalk and staring.

Don’t just stand there gawking and taking pictures! She wishes she could yell at them all.

Seeing the man lying on the ground with his eyes closed, Clarke quickly rushes around the side of the car.

She kneels beside him, “Oh my god! I’m so sorry! You just suddenly stepped in front of my car and I had no time to stop! Please don’t be dead!”

The man’s long groan makes her stop babbling. His eyes blink open and he looks directly at her. Clarke takes in the sight of his curly hair, and the dark coat he’s wearing. He doesn’t look like the type of person to step in front of a car… but then again what type of person does?

“Ow.” He says, blinking a few times to try to clear the fogginess in his head. Clarke shakes herself out of her thoughts and leans forwards over his body. She pulls one of his eyes open further, checking his pupils for any signs that he has a concussion.

“Uhhhh….” The man looks at her in confusion.

“Don’t worry, I’m pre-med.” She says, letting go of his eyelids, satisfied that he isn’t showing any of the early signs of a concussion.

“Is that supposed to make me feel better? You just hit me with your car.”

Clarke bristles.

“You’re the one that stepped so suddenly into oncoming traffic.”

“…Touchè.”

Clarke looks up from him as he closes his eyes and over to the small crowd that has formed. She scans through them, checking to see if any of them thought to call an ambulance. She lets out a sigh of relief when she sees that one woman has.

“Sir?” She asks, turning back towards the man. He still has his eyes closed.

“Bellamy.”

“What?”

“My name. It’s Bellamy Blake. I figured you probably wanted to know the name of the idiot you hit with your car.”

Clarke laughs, putting her hand on his shoulder. He opens his eyes at the contact, looking over at her.

“Well, Bellamy Blake, I’m Clarke Griffin. The asshole that hit you with a car.”

Bellamy smiles at her a little loopily. He lifts his arm to shake her hand.

“Pleasure to meet you.”

When he puts his arm back down, Clarke leans forwards to grab at his wrist.

“Is it okay if I check your pulse Bellamy? I need to know if your heart is beating okay.”

“Go ahead.” He says, looking up at the sky.

Clarke lifts his arm towards her and pulls back the sleeve of his coat. She puts her fingers on his pulse and begins to count to herself. After a moment, she stops counting.

“Okay…I think your pulse is fine. A little fast, but then again you did just get hit by a car so that’s probably just due to the….” she trails off, her eyes catching site of the familiar cursive writing of her tattoo,

“…shock.” She finishes, eyes glued to the edges of his tattoo.

Without warning him, Clarke pulls his arm closer to her and pushes the sleeve of his jacket up to his elbow.

“What are you-” Bellamy starts, lifting his head up to get a better view.

She drops his arm and grabs at the sleeve of her sweater, pulling it up to her elbow also.

She holds out her arm to him, showing him the matching tattoo she has inked there.

“…Everything is more beautiful because we are doomed.” He reads quietly.

His eyes flit back up to her face, seeming to take her in all at once. He opens his mouth to speak but Clarke beats him to it.

“The Iliad? Really? You’re such a nerd.”

He smiles at her smugly.

“Yeah but you recognised the quote.”

“What if I had googled it?”

“Something tells me that you didn’t have to google.”

“That something would be the concussion.” She deadpans.

Bellamy’s smile turns into a full blown grin and he starts to laugh. Clarke smiles as well, loving the warmth that his gaze is spreading through her chest.

So maybe she was wrong. This day turned out to be a pretty good one as days go. (Especially since the strange man she hit with her car turned out to be a pretty extraordinary).

-Fin-