#Sophocles' parents
Explore tagged Tumblr posts
puella-1n-somn10 · 5 months ago
Text
Tumblr media
The adults in Soffy's life.
Art is by @/Bxsql on TikTok
23 notes · View notes
Text
'Ulu: Peeling those sour rainbow gummy strips into long thin strings and putting them into a bowl filled with a cheap energy drink to create something I call "Battery Acid Spaghetti". Will update you all once I've finished it.
...
'Ulu, stumbling out of the kitchen: Don't do this.
Lana's mom, entering the kitchen: Oh, we'll see about that.
Lana's mom, with all life sapped from her eyes, looking like a reanimated corpse: Don't do this.
Sarah: I'm gonna-!
Harper, running after her mother, implying that she sneaked in to try that unholy dish as well: Don't do this, please!
Sima: Even with that sort of unanimous consensus, you guys still insist on doing this...
Faba: Well, three times is enough for scientific peer review-
Abe, slamming that dish in front of everyone for examination:
Abe: It looks like the dry skin at the top is made of the candy's sour pellets; that's not a great start...
*Everyone looks on horrified as Abe took a large bite out of it.*
Abe: *gulp* Tastes...really good, actually. I...also feel like I'm about to explode-
...
Abe, on the ground, writhing in pain as he clutches his abdomen, his veins are about to burst, and the paramedics are being called: Do not do this...
Lusamine: I'll be right back. Faba, Wicke, keep your eyes on the others as I investigate this.
Lusamine:
Lusamine, coughing up black blood that looks eerily like Nihilego poison as she tries to balance herself on one of the chairs: They weren't lying; don't do this!
Samson: I just tried to pop a bubble with my fork. It didn't pop- it's sitting there with a hole on top...
Burnet: I'm convinced you all just ate radioactive waste...
Lana's dad: ...Add vodka-
Rango: Do not.
Sophocles' mom, walking slowly into the chaotic restaurant: Oh, goodness; I've tried this before- please don't do this...
Sophocles' dad, confident in his wife's abilities as usual: Aww, come on, dear- it couldn't have been that awful!
Sophocles' mom: *Raises an eyebrow at him*
...
Sophocles' dad, foaming at the mouth as he stands there nigh-catatonic: Yeah, don't do this...
Kukui: That's it- now I have to try this.
Kukui, struggling to breathe as his throat and eyes get itchier from within: Don't do this...!
Mimo: Hey, don't tell me what to do!
Mimo, coughing and crying as if she's allergic: D-Don't do this...
Hobbes: Bet.
Hobbes, with his fancy mustache now fallen off: Please don't do this.
9 notes · View notes
a-little-home-in-hauoli · 9 months ago
Text
Hey there! Sophocles' father speaking- you guys could call me Francis, though! I've heard about this "Rotom-Blur", especially from my own son! So why not join in on the fun, I asked?
I go by he/him pronouns- been a long journey since I've got to this point, but I'm happy with who I am. (Transmasc)
Now, I may know these things with age (he's in his mid-40's, mun is 20+), but don't start sending anything too crass my way! It's ok to joke, but there's a time and place for everything!
Vice-president of Alola's Tourist Bureau, with plans of retiring sooner or later.
Lived in Alola for most of my life- born and raised in Hoenn, though.
Once went on my own Island Challenge! ...I didn't do so well, but what happened, happened.
I'm just a father who is proud of every member of my family- my dearest, amazing Molly, and my brilliant Sophocles! (Don't insult his wife and kid. He will kill for them.)
Extended family...the less has been said, the better, ok?
((HCs and DNI under the cut))
Let's make this quick; /lh
DNI:
- General qualifications for that; including, but not limited to, racists, pdf-files, z00 files, poke files, tr-mp supporters, zi0nists, naz1 sympathizers- just don't be a dick.
- I also wanna mention that I am not comfortable with NatDexers and anyone who supports it to this day. I've had some unpleasant experiences in regards to this "movement", and, seeing how I aim to become a game dev myself, the core of their message is really damaging, especially when taking the widespread issue of Karōshi into account. I will allow it if you agree that the devs are being overworked rather than them being 'laaaaazyyyy'.
- Mun may be 24 and the muses are in their 40's, but please don't send anything too NSFW. Jokes are fine.
- Please be 18 or older before interacting.
- If I see one more inc-st joke relating to my muse and his wife, I will flip. /lh qnd also srs
Headcanons:
- As stated above, he's a trans man. Just because.
- A bi disaster, too; have you SEEN how he blushed when watching Kahili on the screen?!
- Alolan/Hoennian.
- Taurus. Shares the same birthday with his EN VA. (May 2nd)
- ADHD and on the spectrum (AuDHD). Diagnosed as an adult.
- Pals with Abe and Mohn before his disappearance. Rough relationship with Noah, Lana's dad, and Sima.
- The only family member he's in contact with is Anela, his sister. His own old folks? Absolutely not.
- Sophocles doesn't know whether his paternal grandparents even exist. In Francis' eyes, it's better that way.
- Still the same jolly dad from canon (specifically the EN version of him)! He's just...dealing with a lot on his plate.
- His wife, Molly, tends to pop up every now and then! She's just shy and more reserved compared to her husband.
0 notes
vinnystaysawake · 1 year ago
Text
Tumblr media
Uncle Cyrus and his terrifying aura
(Drew this based on that pokemon masters storyline)
386 notes · View notes
doloneia · 3 months ago
Text
Tumblr media
and what if my heart exploded into a million billion tiny pieces. what then
37 notes · View notes
plushrats · 3 months ago
Text
Tumblr media
CLONETOBER DAY 24: Candy 🍫
23 notes · View notes
swallowtail-ageha · 6 months ago
Text
Head empty thoughts full of the antigone incest essay
#genuinely think it was the reason why i like it so much right now#like. ive always loved me some codependency in ships and like incest especially from messed up families is the epitome of that#and oooh boy does antigone have it in spade#spades#fuck sorry its 1:30 am#anw the whole#'the true tragedy's core is about love#antigone is ismene's heromene and this is why she wants to save her#yet antigone's heramenos is polynices who is long dead#and to meet again w her heramenos she is willing to die#for due to how deeply incestuous the thebian family is#its impossible for antigone (and ismene too!) to find an heramenos who doesnt fully share her blood#(and thus haemon (whose name literally means man of blood) who is her cousin from the non incestuous part of her family#cannot be ever her heramenos)#they also went on a tangent about cannibalism as a metaphor for incest because#the closest a person can be is either within the womb (both as siblings or parent/child)#or in someone elses stomach#and chronos eating his own kids is an extension of that thought#(and also as a way to say 'every generation will get swallowed by time kids will turn into adults and their children too etc#and its interesting how this again correlates with antigone. she outright refuses it because her own family structure is distorted#mother had children with her son. their kids are both siblings and uncles/aunts to each other#a mistake that will never *repeat*#and therefore antigone is left all alone. yes. oedipus is still alive. exiled and blind but alive#but jocasta is dead and he sure as hell wont have children with jocasta again#therefore making it unable for him to unnaturally#concieve another son who will fill the void that polynices (and eteocles!) have left in antigone's heart#goood sophocles. if there is an afterlife i want to make out with you sloppy style
2 notes · View notes
litcest · 1 year ago
Text
Oedipus Rex, by Sophocles
Oedipus Rex ('Oedipus the King') is a Greek tragedy written by Sophocles and first performed around 429 BC. Everyone knows the plot. I myself have mentioned the play many times before, often drawing parallels with other tragic stories of incest between a parent and their offspring. It's a play about not being able to change your fate, about not leaving your children to die in the woods, about loving your mom way to much.
I'm using the Ian C. Johnston's verse translation from 2007, which is the most recent prose translation that I found for free.
Buckle up, this is a long one, because not only I talk about Sophocles play, but I decided to talk about Euripides' Oedipus and other poems/play about this iconic mother x son duo.
I honestly thought the play would begin with Oedipus' birth and follow his adventures in Sphinx slaying. But no, it opens much later, when he is already the King of Thebes, with his subjects begging him for help against a plague that's devastating the city. Oedipus says that he has sent his brother-in-law, Creon, to Delphi to inquire the oracle about it. Just as he's telling this to the crowd, he gets word that Creon has returned.
Creon has good news: the plague will go away if they find and punish the murderer of Laius, the previous King of Thebes. Oedipus has no idea of how to find the killer, as the only information a surviving witness was able to give was that it had been a gang of thieves.
"I have his bed and wife, she would have borne his children, if his hopes to have a son had not been disappointed. Children from a common mother might have linked Laius and myself. But as it turned out, Fate swooped down onto his head. So now I’ll fight on his behalf, as if this matter concerned my own father, and I will strive to do everything I can to find him, the man who spilled his blood, and thus avenge the son of Labdacus and Polydorus."
Oh, this is so ironic. Oedipus will investigate the matter as if it was his own father.... And poor Laius that never had a son ;)
Oedipus decides to asks the Teiresias, a blind seer, for help. Teiresias at first refuses to help, saying it will do no good. Oedipus insists and insults the see until Teiresias tells him the truth: Oedipus is the killer he was looking for. More than that, Oedipus is "you are living in disgrace" with his "dearest family". Teiresias teases that when Oedipus discovers the identity of his father, he will be destroyed.
"And he will turn out to be the brother of the children in his house—their father, too, both at once, and the husband and the son of the very woman who gave birth to him. He sowed the same womb as his father and murdered him."
Oedipus acuses Creon of having created a plot against him to get the throne for himself and Creon has to defend himself in front of the citizens. Oedipus wants to kill Creon, but Jocasta, Creon's sister and Oedipus's wife, interferes and he decides to merely exile Creon.
Jocasta asks Oedipus for details of what happened, to which he replies "To you I’ll speak, lady, since I respect you more than I do these men", clearly showing he holds his wife in high regard. He tells her that Teiresias, a seer brought by Creon, told him he murdered Laius.
Jocasta basically laughs and tells him to ignore the prophet, for there was no such thing a prophecies, giving the exemple of a prophecy that she and Laius had received but never came true. That prophecy had foretold that Laius would be killed by his child with Jocasta, but it obviously wasn't true, because Laius was killed by robbers. She also reveals that, to make sure the prophecy wouldn't come true, Laius had killed their son when he was an infant.
During her speech, Jocasta mentions the location of Laius' murder, which no one had done before, and that place is all too familiar to Oedipus: he had once killed a man there. Oedipus begins to despair and begs the survivor of the attack to be brought to the palace.
Jocasta begs him to tell her what worries him so much and he elaborates on how he came to Thebes: he believed himself to have been the son of King Polybus and Queen Merope of Corinth, and one night, a drunken man tells him he was actually adopted; curious to his lineage, he goes to Delphi where he's told by the oracle that his fate is to "defile" his mother's bed and slay his father. Trying to avoid this fate, for he loved his parents very much and wished them no harm, he left Corinth and became a wanderer. During his travels, he ran into a man in a triple fork on a road and slayed the man, for he had been disrespectful towards Oedipus.
While Jocasta and Oedipus wait for the witness to arrive, there comes a messenger from Corinth with the news that Polybus had died and Corinth wishes to make Oedipus their king. Jocasta tells this to Oedipus as further proof that prophecies are bullshit, because Polybus died without Oedipus being responsible. Upon hearing this, Oedipus admits to Jocasta that she had been right all along and reassures him that the part about having sex with his mother was also a lie.
"Do not worry you will wed your mother. It’s true that in their dreams a lot of men have slept with their own mothers, but someone who ignores all this bears life more easily."
The messenger from Corinth hears this and tells Oedipus that he has no need to worry about Merope, since she isn't his real mother. Although the royal couple loved and raised Oedipus as their own, he hadn't been born to them. Actually, that very messenger had been the one to give him Polybus, who had taken pity at the child with the pierced ankles. Oedipus wants more explanations, but the messenger only knows that much and suggest that there's another man who might know more, the man who had given Oedipus to the messenger.
Oedipus wants to find this guy, but Jocasta is horrified at the idea and begs her husband to stop investigating, telling him it's for his own good. Desperate to know the truth about his origin, Oedipus disregards her advice. Then, the witness to Laius' murder arrives. And it so happens that the witness is the same person who saved Oedipus as a baby.
The witness is reluctant to talk, but Oedipus threatens him with murder or exile (this is becoming a recurring theme) and the man finally confesses: the child was Laius' son, whom the queen had wanted dead because of the prophecy. Finally, Oedipus begins to understand what's going on and returns to the palace in shame and despair.
Another messenger comes from the palace to deliver the news that Oedipus had come home wanting to kill Jocasta, but Jocasta had already hanged herself. Upon finding her corpse, he took the golden brooches that kept her gowns in place and used the needles to blind himself. Oedipus blames Apollo, god of prophecies, for all his misadventures.
"She lay moaning beside the bed, where she, poor woman, had given birth twice over— a husband from a husband, children from a child."
"He kept asking us to give him a sword, while he tried to find that wife who was no wife—whose mother’s womb had given birth to him and to his children."
Creon returns and Oedipus asks to be exiled and Creon agrees, promising to take care of Oedipus daughters, who will be having a hard time from now on, as "have never known [his] dining table placed away from them or lacked their father’s presence".
I honestly find it so funny that Oedipus and Jocasta blind/kill themselves because they commited incest, when they worshiped a bunch of inbred gods. The mother Earth, Gaia, married her son, Uranus and that's basically what allowed the world to exits. But when the royal couple do that, it's a problem? At least the gods weren't hypocrites and the curse upon Thebes was because the unavenged murder of the former king.
Oedipus, by Euripides
You see, Sophocles wasn't the only one to write about Oedipus. A bit later, circa 415 BC, Euripides wrote his own play about the mythological character. Unfortunately, this play is lost to time, save for a few fragments.
These fragments revels that they play follows the same events to Sophocles', with a few major differences: in Euripides' version, Oedipus isn't the one who blind himself, instead, being blinded by one of Laius' former servants (I'll assume it was in retaliation for Oedipus having murdered Laius). Also, this play has Jocasta surviving the events and joining Oedipus in exile.
Thebaid, by Statius
Not to be confused with the Greek poem of the same name, this Roman poem was written by Statius circa 90 AD. It's very lengthy and barely features Oedipus, but his parts are very discrepant from the other versions of this story.
It begins with Oedipus cursing his two sons with Jocasta, Eteocles and Polynices to fight each other for control of Thebes. Oedipus recounts how he came to marry his own mother and then blinded himself, and how his sons then stole the throne from him. Jocasta kills herself not because of Oedipus, but due to Polynices and Eteocles deaths by each other's hands.
Oedipus, by Seneca
This version was written much later than the previous ones, circa the 1st Century AD by the Latin playwright Seneca. It diverges from Sophocles' in a few major ways, from the very beginning. In this version, Oedipus suspects that the curse affecting Thebes is his fault, even though he doesn't know what he did to cause the curse. Later, Leon's ghost comes to reveal the identity of his killer (how Hamlet of him). Upon knowing that he killed his father and is married to his mother, Oedipus pulls off his eyes. Jocasta, after learning the truth, kills herself with Oedipus's sword.
Odyssey, by Homer
Homer's Odyssey, written around the 8th century BC and therefore older than both plays, contains a mention of the Oedipus myth, which has a very different version than the plays. Odysseus, during his trip to the Underworld, meets Oedipus' mother, in here named Epicaste. And while he mentions that she hanged herself, he also says that Oedipus continues being the King of Thebes after the revelation of his parentage.
Oedipodea, by Cinaethon
The Oedipodea is a mostly lost poem credited to Cinaethon that, as the name suggests, follows the story of Oedipus. It was written around 764 BC, making it closer to the Odyssey than to the plays, and, from the verses we have available, we can see one major difference: in this poem, Oedipus and Jocasta never had any children together. The two sons and two daughters of Oedipus were from his other marriage to Euryganeia, who may or may not having been Jocasta's sister (and Oedipus' aunt).
6 notes · View notes
monotonous-minutia · 2 years ago
Text
kinda wanna liveblog the Pelly La belle Hélène even though I've watched it like five times
7 notes · View notes
redwolftrash · 2 years ago
Text
i wanna explain every goddamn facet of what i’m doing with the affix doc but i can’t because. i fear that it will simply be Too Much for someone not well versed in my blend of autism and visual learning
0 notes
mythologyolympics · 3 months ago
Text
Mythology Olympics tournament round 1
Propaganda!
Tumblr media Tumblr media
In Greek mythology, Antigone is a Theban princess and a character in several ancient Greek tragedies. She is the daughter of Oedipus, king of Thebes; her mother is either Jocasta or, in another variation of the myth, Euryganeia. She is a sister of Polynices, Eteocles, and Ismene. The meaning of the name is, as in the case of the masculine equivalent Antigonus, "in place of one's parents" or "worthy of one's parents". Antigone appears in the three 5th century BC tragic plays written by Sophocles, known collectively as the three Theban plays, being the protagonist of the eponymous tragedy Antigone.
Angrboða (also Angrboda) is a jötunn in Norse mythology. She is the mate of Loki and the mother of monsters. She is only mentioned once in the Poetic Edda (Völuspá hin skamma) as the mother of Fenrir by Loki. The Prose Edda (Gylfaginning) describes her as "a giantess in Jötunheimar." Her name has been translated as 'the one who brings grief', 'she-who-offers-sorrow', or 'harm-bidder'. The first element is related to the English word "anger", but means "sorrow" or "regret" in Old Norse, the later meaning is retained in Scandinavian languages. [art credit]
184 notes · View notes
puella-1n-somn10 · 7 months ago
Text
Sophocles; the Miracle Child of Melemele
Tumblr media
Total word count: 2,096
This was supposed to be a brief analysis post regarding his parents alone, but, admittedly, I got carried away whilst writing all this down. Sincere apologies for those waiting on the Meguca!Penny megapost and analysis of the families present within the Sun and Moon anime; I will do my absolute best to bring both of them on the table as soon as I am able to. This has been, let's say, a fun little writing exercise that got way out of hand- but I am happy to confess that I did have my fun writing it all down, and do hope that you guys also enjoy what I have brought in- consider it a sort of a snack made to prepare you all for the next meal!
So, starting from the very top, I have noticed that a couple of the parents' designs within the SM season of PokeAni do correlate with some NPC models present in-game for quite some time now; specifically with Abe/Mallow's father and Sophocles' parents. In the former's case, he's clearly based on the chef class; just slightly tweaked and redesigned to make him resemble his two kids, which was surprisingly effective enough to give us a simple yet unique design that helps him stand out. Meanwhile, with the latter, they're based on the madame and gentleman classes respectively- down to the minute detail of both the father and said gentleman class possessing a grey watch on both of their left arms.
It really isn't a surprise seeing how these inspirations work in their favors not just design-wise, but also within the narrative; Abe is already present in the games donning the exact same NPC model, and it has been all but outright confirmed to us that Sophocles' family is of high societal status - with both Molayne operating Hokulani Observatory and the father being the VP of the tourism board -. These designs and their inspirations help them fit in to their roles seamlessly and perfectly; giving the impressions of who they are to the viewer and their respective without the need to state their purposes to us outright.
What caught my eye for quite some time, though, is that it does appear to us that Soffy's folks are quite, let's say, quite old when compared to the other parents present within the show; not just in appearance, but it's also clear to us through their mannerisms - with the both of them having this polite, old-timey, and jolly vibe they tend to carry wherever they went -. A rather innocuous detail to fuss over, but it is one that would throw a wrench at whatever timeline one might be working on once you take Sophocles himself into account; how he appears to be so young, especially with the rest of his classmates already being in their early teens and himself being at least 11 years of age in comparison.
While I could see that the writers didn't really think too hard on it, I personally believe that this little detail right here might provide more insight into Sophocles' upbringing and why his old folks are doing their damned best to provide for and help nurture him in the best way they could. As a matter of fact, I have half a mind to say that, alongside Kiawe's and Lana's families, Sophocles' might be one the healthiest family dynamics we have seen throughout the Sun and Moon seasons of the anime, and, by golly, I am really excited to explore their interactions and the core reason behind it all in as much detail as I could.
After pondering on the topic for a while, I've managed to muster up two little theories that might help bring everything together and provide more insight into Sophocles and his folks as their own characters. Bear in mind that, aside from the analysis of certain context queues and symbolic references, neither of the following proposals are anywhere near canon; they're merely nothing but my own 11 AM ramblings on a Sunday, but it is fun to speculate and place those three goobers under a microscope! These are simply my interpretations of the events that have lead up to the present day and the characters we are currently discussing, and if you guys have other proposals behind this you want to share, I highly encourage you to do so! We are here to inspect these characters through various lenses and perspectives, so the more interpretations, the better!
The first, and most possible, reason behind all this is that the two met during later stages of their lives; the both of them already having more than enough experience to not just create a healthy relationship between one another, but also grant their eventual future child a prosperous and loving home life where he could grow up into a promising young man- with his own skills and experiences evolving with him in-tow. This scenario would not only paint the both of them in a wiser light than what we've seen throughout their appearances within the episodes they're present in, but it also boosts speculation on who they are before they both met and eventually had their kid; what sort of achievements they have personally accomplished, what they've gone through to become the people they currently are, the circumstances of their own upbringings to begin with- all of these and more are essential building blocks to a person's overall character and how they view the world. After all, though they have their similarities, the differences between the two are almost night and day- and I hope I could bring said key differences to light soon! They, alongside the other parents of the main cast, deserve an analysis post of their own, and I hope I could share my speculations and findings with you all soon enough!
The second possibility, though, teeters more on the speculative and even symbolic angle, but still manages to fit like a well-placed jigsaw piece on a puzzle board. I should give you all the heads-up, though- it's best that you take a good look at the trigger warnings present within the tags before proceeding here; if what we're about to discuss is triggering to you in any way, shape, or form, click away now for the sake of your own health. I apologize for the inconvenience, but, once more, one must place the health of the reader in a higher regards over their creative projects. Please be safe, darlings.
What I am about to suggest next is that...in gentler terms, Sophocles was the child they have managed to conceive after such a stretch of time- after countless trials and tribulations. The toll of trying and failing to conceive throughout the years may have managed to take its toll on the both of them, but now look- the duo have finally managed to bring forth their little miracle into existence. They have given their all so that they could have their sweet little child in their arms, and now he's here; happy, healthy, and breathing.
This is a...rather grim scenario, but it's also one that makes a shocking amount of sense; after all, Sophocles is usually associated with either of the two symbols within the overarching story- lightning (which is to be expected, as he is an electric type specialist) and stars; the latter of which being a common symbol of wishes, especially when in the form of meteors. Heck, when you look at him back when he was a toddler as shown in the episode "Showering the World with Love", you can even tell that his hair at the time looked like a star!
Speaking of, within that same episode, we were also presented with the life cycle of the meteor pokemon, Minior; a species that is destined to one day make an impact on the earth's surface, live out the rest of their brief lives amongst its inhabitants, and float back to the skies as they dissipate into fine particles- marking the end and new beginning of their species' life cycle. It is in that episode where Sophocles had his first encounter with loss, and, according to some, might be where he tackles the root cause of his scotophobia; witnessing a friend he's managed to make at such a young age at the time fade in to the dark with no promise of return- dissipating into the vast nothingness of space peacefully and without a care in the world, for they have long come to terms with their destinies. There was nothing he could have done to change or prevent this, as this was one of the many set rules of nature, if not existence itself.
Once more, I have to repeat myself and state that the possibility of Sophocles being a couple's only success at making their own bundle of joy is shockingly dark- and I wouldn't even blame you for believing that this is way too much for Pokemon to ever portray. However, one most also remember that the topic of grief, as we've already discussed just now, is no stranger to the Pokemon anime, especially within the Sun and Moon seasons. As a matter of fact, one of the many overarching themes present with this set of seasons is, in fact, grief- it is this state of mind and deep sense of sorrow that drives a majority of our characters, whether that's been made obvious to us or not, and it is within these seasons that we learn of the many ways one might handle or even tackle the impact of sudden loss.
Besides, in complete contrast to our first proposal, it is also implied that both his mother and father have been a thing for quite the stretch of time now; from their choice of words and language in the EN dub, to them addressing one another via affectionate nicknames such as "love" and "dear". All that, and that's on top of the father being completely smitten with his wife; taking every opportunity to give her praises all while blushing like mad whenever she compliments him. To me, that's a couple that went through thick and thin via healthy communication, and are cooperating with one another to ensure that they manage to live their lives harmoniously.
"Hang on, didn't he also have an implied celebrity crush on Kahili?" Yeah, well Burnet also had one towards the Masked Royal before she knew he was Kukui- it's ok to find some people attractive or generally good-looking, just don't go out and form romantic relations without the awareness of your partner and cheat on them. :/
All in all- though these scenarios were born from mere speculation, they still stand as a testament to how well these three are written, and how the way they interact with one another grants leeway for fan interpretations and conjectures. While I am bummed by how we didn't get any more of their dynamic in the canon of the anime, I don't think it's time to close the book on them just yet; after all, if Kiawe's grandfather was canonized by the games - specifically in Pokemon Masters EX - years after he made his debut in the anime, then there might be hope for other anime-only characters later down the line.
Personally, I am hoping that they grant us more content in regards to Sophocles' old folks, and the reason behind this is mostly due to the similarities our child of the starts has with none other than Team Galactic's leader, Cyrus. They may share similar strengths, skills, and struggles- heck, it isn't hard to see that, once upon a time, Cyrus may have been in a similar spot as Sophocles back when he was a child, but, in the end, it is their respective upbringings that have molded them into who they currently are; a child who wishes to explore the stars with his partner pokemon, and a man who sought to destroy the entirety of existence by reweaving the fabrics of space-time so that he could rebuild it all in his own image.
To a select few, Sophocles was their little blessing; a bright and peculiar little child, indeed. To those few, he deserved to live his life in harmony and peace- with the opportunity to continue growing and honing his skills in a healthy environment. To those few...I can only hope that they are now glad with all their hearts; he has, indeed, become a talented young man with oh-so much just ahead of him.
Stand proud, Sophocles.
Stand proud...our dearest bundle of happiness, pride, and joy...
12 notes · View notes
Text
Fun fact!
The reason why Molayne and neither of Sophocles' parents were on-screen together is because it'd be hard for either of them to fully forgive him after basically traumatizing their kid and being the possible cause behind his scotophobia,
If anything, the two might be indifferent or cold towards Molayne if they were ever in the same room, which would definitely not fit the tone the anime's setting been up at all. They haven't objected to Sophocles' desire to keep up his brotherly relationship with Molayne, due to them both having a sense of trust and confidence in him as well as fear of his eventual isolation, though the two would rather not interact much with him over it all.
3 notes · View notes
ankh-morporkianpostalworker · 5 months ago
Text
Me, starting Nona the Ninth: Man, this is weird. I hope I see Gideon and Harrow again soon.
Me and the end of the book: I would literally die for Nona. I love her and her three parents, and that she has to die so Harrow can live, having committed no sins so heinous as to damn her to such a short life, is a tragedy worthy of Sophocles and Shakespeare...
Also, John is a lot more complicated than I thought, and hearing him recount his journey to godhood and the bullshit he had to deal with was really interesting.
10/10, loved it
192 notes · View notes
trikaranos · 8 months ago
Text
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
TRIKARANOS CHAPTER II: THRESHOLD (part 1)
TRIKARANOS is a comic about Crassus until it isn't. Intended for an adult audience.
SO! Chapter 2 clocked in at over 20 pages, which means I'll be posting it in batches of like, five or six pages as I finish lettering because trying to format 20 pages in a single photoset is a nightmare and I'm not going to do that lmao
⭐ Trikaranos will always be free to read. In the near future, you’ll have the option to support this comic & my ability to spend time making it through Patreon! currently, I have a tip jar!
⭐ There is no set update schedule (chapters vary in length and will be posted as I finish working on them)
⭐ alternative places to read it (coming soon!)
CREDITS all additional art used are in the public domain, and the specific images used are open access, etc
📌 The Mouth of a Cave, Hubert Robert
📖 PREVIOUS CHAPTER | START HERE | ToC (under construction!)
UNDER THE CUT entirely optional: the creator’s commentary, ancient citations, stuff I thought was neat, etc.
on the topic of legendary ancestors and gods and heroes, T.P. Wiseman's Legendary Genealogies in Late-Republican Rome is a really fun read
Tumblr media
also have you ever noticed that caves are fucking weird. like. what's up with caves. however: caves perform the same function as a forest (and a maze)
Nel mezzo del cammin di nostra vita mi ritrovai per una selva oscura, ché la diritta via era smarrita.
-Dante, Divine Comedy
(it's a transformative journey) (a transformative underworld journey, even!)
speaking of which. parents. brothers. oof. can't think too hard about how crassus grew up eating meals with his whole family otherwise I'll feel like I have to walk into the woods and start screaming.
Tumblr media Tumblr media
Sophocles’ Antigone (trans. Ruth Fainlight & Robert J. Littman) / Catullus 101 (trans Anne Carson)
388 notes · View notes
neiptune · 5 days ago
Text
et nunc et semper
cw: NSFT, 3k+ wc, female reader, ancient rome au, slavery, mentions of violence, sexual exploitation, power imbalance, intercourse, fingering, reader has greek origins, sae is head of the most gorgeous domus and you, a slave, eventually become his favorite concubine. one that just so happens to fall in love with the person, other than his brother, sae confides in the most: his most trusted slave, oliver
Tumblr media
Sae is a good dominus.
When his brother sold you to him, grown bored and easily irritated after so many years of service, you were expecting complete and utter disinterest at best. However, prepared just in case you wouldn’t be as lucky once more, you also braced yourself for the worse scenarios: corporal punishments, torture, sexual exploitation. Rin’s kindness had always rested in his complete indifference and when he announced you were to be sent away, you spent entire nights awake, praying his brother would be just as merciful.
Against all odds, however, Sae grew fond of you. As soon as he learned you were able to speak Greek, he summoned you to his tablinum. You knew being one of the most trusted advisors to the emperor came with immeasurable privileges and richness, something you were reminded each day you spent in that domus: not even Rin’s residency had as many elaborate marble decorations and paneling, grandiose paintings and a garden one could very well get lost in.
The tablinium is where very few slaves are allowed, only the ones Sae trusts enough to let into the room he receives his clients in. The first time you stepped inside, well aware of teal eyes studying your every movement, you tried not to appear too fascinated by the walls decorated with such rich fresco pictures, nor by the busts of the Itoshi family arranged on pedestals on the other end of the room.
However, you couldn’t help yourself. You were born a slave but your parents were not: your mother was Greek, could read and write, made it a point to teach you both Latin and her native language. Back then you thought you’d never get to see Piraeus firsthand, hence why you were so drawn to the unusual frescoes Sae chose for his study. Aesop’s fables, represented so beautifully you raised your hand with the intention of tracing outlines you wouldn’t even be allowed to observe in a different household.
“Read for me”, Sae said that afternoon, shaking you from your stupor. He pushed a scroll towards you and it was surprising to suddenly discover his interest in science and philosophy. You were there, standing by his chair for hours, reading Anaximander’s theories and studies out loud, until the room grew dark and your voice hoarse.
It became a daily appointment: each evening, you knew your master’s expectations was to find you in the tablinum right after dinner. Never one to sleep much, sometimes he’d keep you there the entire night, your voice the only sound in a household where slaves were barely allowed to speak if their master happened to be around. You read for him without eating, drinking or sleeping, and when the sun would rise you were simply sent back to your duties.
And then, suddenly, he started asking questions too. What did you think of Aristotle, Herodotus, Plutarch? Was his pronunciation beyond saving? When you switched to poetry, Sae allowed you to sit next to him, so that he could follow along, eyes focused on your finger as it grazed each verse, to make it easier for him. He scoffed at Aristophanes’ comedy, which you suspect was a way to hide actual amusement. He enjoyed Sophocles and his tragedies. Then, he enjoyed watching you, the first time you read lyric poetry for him.
“It’s supposed to be accompanied by music, isn’t it?”, he asked, eyes boring into yours. You just lowered your head further and apologized, briefly stated that you didn’t want to sing for him without asking for permission first. Sae granted that permission.
He started touching you, a gentle brush of the fingers at first, to make sure your hair didn’t hide your profile from him. He’d then grasp your chin and tilt your head back to make sure you looked at him while detailing your impressions over a piece you’d just read. You never grew tense under his touch, not even when he’d grab your jaw if your tone got too low or you paused to clear your throat in the middle of a sentence. You did whatever was expected of you. Let him part your legs and sneak a hand underneath your tunic, obeyed when he ordered you didn’t stop reading as he touched you.
Like his brother, Sae grows restless easily and your submissive nature ended up irritating him. You were a little too unfazed, a little too good at carrying on, as if he wasn’t making a wet mess of you with his expert dexterity.
And so he ordered you’d kiss him, crawled onto his lap with your legs spread wide open for him, gasped and moaned and whined into his mouth. Loud, for all to hear. He wasn’t rough, perhaps it was the most gentle you’d ever been touched by a man, by a dominus. He’d take you right there, on his lap, on the table, on the floor. With time, you learned what he liked. On some days, you were allowed boldness: whispers to his ear of how good he felt, how much you desired him, more than any other man as no one could ever compare. Your fingers would card through his hair and pull at the soft strands right as he throbbed inside you, buried so deep you felt him in your throat as tears he’d lick away stained your cheeks. You’d keep your nails clean for he liked it when you scratched his back, you’d gently bite the juncture between his neck and shoulder.
And then, on some other days, you’d let him use you as he pleased, mouth shut, legs parted. He’d be stressed, angry, sometimes too irritated by either his marriage or matters of politics you’d never understand. You were always there for him, far from being the only slave he fucked, but certainly an interesting exception Sae didn’t want to get rid of and instead kept by his side most nights, in his personal bedroom, arms around your body pressed close to his as he softly asked you’d speak to him in your language.
You thought you could fall in love with him, you really did. He’d bring you with him on his travels and you’d find yourself missing him whenever he’d be back to his main residence, where his wife was. Where his children were. Sae would always come back with gifts, still does, and you know his affection has never been less than sincere. Being his favorite concubine means being draped in a cloak of newfound protectiveness, it means being owned social respect. It means being special. He sees you as more than a slave kept as sexual luxury, he cares about you. Wouldn’t that be enough to make a woman fall in love?
And then, one day, Sae came back and brought his most trusted servant with him. One you had never met before.
While you’d occasionally be with him during journeys or whenever he’d retreat to his country house for a couple of weeks during the summer, Oliver was always by Sae’s side. His mother was Sae and Rin’s father’s slave, he was born in their household and is Sae’s domestic worker. Oliver carries out a range of duties: cleans, prepares food in the kitchens, delivers missives. He’s probably the man, other than his own brother, Sae trusts the most in this life. They have a relationship intimate enough for him to keep Oliver as a secretary and an accountant too. He was the one asking his father to pay for a slave’s education, to make sure he could serve him better. You can imagine the affection he has for Oliver runs deep enough to grant him freedom from ownership, one day.
It was your demise and greatest stroke of luck. You never in a million years could’ve imagined how frail the equilibrium you were relying on was, a crimson thread mercilessly severed by a single touch of his fingers. It was desperate, the way you were drawn to him. When he talks, when he looks at you, you feel like a person and not a possession. A dangerous thought to have, and yet.
The days spent helping him in the kitchens, in the garden, the afternoons you’d catch glimpses of him laughing with other servants, all the times you were forced to be on Sae’s lap while he sat across from you, detailing the latest information about his most pressing affairs, eyes only daring searching yours when your master would be deeply focused on a document or a letter. Oliver had such a way of carrying himself, with a dignity you’d never seen in a slave. He wore a perpetual mask of neutral detachment with his master but when Sae would leave, on the fortunate occasions when he wouldn’t be around and all the eyes and ears of the residency could be considered far enough to grant you enough intimacy, Oliver could drop the act his life depended on.
He’s smart, curious by nature. Speaks Greek with a better accent than your master’s and yet still comically distorts some words, which makes you laugh. He’s knowledgeable about horticulture and spends hours curating the gardens surrounded by the peristylium each day, you’d often observe him from the patio as he tended to violets, saffron, thyme, rosemary, carnations. With expert hands that would leave no place for doubt should another slave or the master himself have noticed, he once plucked a rose and bowed as he offered it to you. A slave bowing to another slave. It made your heart flutter.
You hated yourself for desiring him, not because your mere existence revolved around the axiom of any individual desire being forever forbidden, but because your selfishness could cost him much more than his freedom. If Sae so much as imagined Oliver touching you, he could’ve claimed his life and yours with a light snap of the fingers. 
You didn’t care about your life, not really, but his held so much value. He was about to be freed, there was too much at stake for you to ruin everything.
Oliver is infuriating and stubborn, any attempt at avoiding him went up in smoke as he was just as desperately drawn to you and refused to give up on the one thing he ever wished for himself. Whatever he would do of his freedom with no one to share it with. You had insinuated yourself in his heart like dripping water that hollows out stone and for once in his life he, a person who wasn’t allowed to own anything but his feelings, felt alive.
And yet, he waited, persistence confined by respectful boundaries Oliver never once forced you to cross. He waited, exasperating, confident, beautiful in a way that made you wish there were marble statues and saturnalia dedicated to him. In a way that made Sae dull, someone you couldn’t hold anything but gratitude and affection for. A man you could never love the way you loved Oliver, a man you’d never kiss for the first time on your own accord, brief and sweet in the middle of the night, by the kitchen. You remember his eyes and how dangerously beautiful the moonlight reflected in them was, how searing the second touch of his lips felt against yours, the way he’d silently asked for permission he didn’t need, the uncertainty swarming in those eyes almost bringing you to tears.
You didn’t know what being asked for consent meant and you had no idea what choosing to lie with a man would do, how different the pleasure would feel. Despite being uncomfortably taken against the wall, it was the first time you ejoyed sex. Even on exceptional days when Sae would care about your pleasure too, it always felt like making you finish was a stubborn challenge he’d test himself with. Another proof of his ability, void of any sincere care.
Oliver was different. He strokes your skin with genuine tenderness, never chases his own high without making sure you’re feeling good too, without being absolutely certain he isn’t hurting you somehow, or being unintentionally too rough. Some nights he’d drop to his knees, a servant serving you, making you fall apart on his tongue without ever looking away from your face, so beautiful when contorted in pleasure. He’d catch you when you wouldn’t be able to stand any longer, gently lay your trembling body on the hard ground and push your tunic further up, to be able to still look at you before diving in once more. He wouldn’t ask for anything more on those nights, kissing your palm tenderly when you offered to grant him relief too.
“Get some rest”, he’d whisper against your lips before leaving you cold and alone once more. 
Neither of you expected Sae to free you first.
One day, he’d summoned you to the triclinium, the magnificent dining room where he receives his illustrious guests. Oliver was there, standing by the entrance, expression neutral and eyes never daring finding yours. Rin was there too, reclined on his left side on soft cushions while other slaves served him courses of fruits and warm, sweet wine.
“Lie with me”, Sae’s order surprised you: it wasn’t rare for him to keep you close in front of clients, friends or other servants but members of his family were his only drawn line. Obedient, you positioned yourself in front of him, propped on one elbow on the same couch. 
“She’s worth much more than the amount I paid you, brother”, he murmured into your skin, one hand lazily pushing your tunic to your hips.
Oliver’s love had changed you. Made Sae’s touch intolerable, newfound feelings of guilt and shame churning in the pit of your stomach for the very first time. You didn’t wish for his fingers to explore your skin, you didn’t want Rin to watch, or worse, claim his own fair share.
“What, just because you made her your Greek whore?”, the mockery, for the first time, hurts you. These feelings could get you killed.
“Be respectful of my Greek whore”, Sae buried his face into the crook of your neck and you stayed frozen, “she’s also my liberta, now”.
Your breath hitched in your throat and he chuckled, pulling you possessively against him with an arm around your waist. A liberta. A freedwoman.  
Rin’s scoff didn’t faze you.
“Look at me”, Sae’s grasp on your throat burned as he tilted your head backwards and spoke against your mouth, “you are free. I wish to keep you with me as your patronus. Will you stay?”.
For a moment, you feared you might not be able to speak, too overwhelmed by feelings interlaced within you like both ribbons and snakes.
“You honor me”, you were finally able to whisper.
In a way, this was everything you could ever wish for and the worst thing to ever happen to you. It was perfectly clear what being freed meant: you would forever owe him eternal gratutide and reverence. He made sure you’d remain in a legally defined position of obligation for your entire life, a bond that would last forever. You had never felt more trapped.
“Oliver, serve some wine to your mistress”, Sae’s gaze never left yours as he quietly ordered. Your heart squeezed painfully as you kissed him, doing everything in your power to keep your focus on your patron and nothing else.
Now, on nights like this, when you lie tangled in warm sheets with your lover, you’re even more dreadfully aware of what’s at stake. His freedom, your freedom. Both your heads, probably.
This bedroom in Sae’s domus now belongs to you, along with all the valuable possessions within it. He provides financially for you and finally grants your most intimate moments their due privateness. His slaves are your slaves, you are free to wander around the house as you please, accompany him publicly for everyone to see. Rin once said he’d never seen him treat his own wife with such devotion and Sae simply pulled you closer in response.
“This one’s different”.
He loves you, you know he does. When you read for him the world stops, Rome and perhaps the entire empire dissipating into thin smoke. His own dimension ruled by your voice alone, eyes shut when the pads of your gentle fingers explore him, lips he would start wars for.
But all that ceases to exist when you’re in Oliver’s arms, his nose grazing your neck, the deep rumble of his voice vibrating in a chest pressed to yours.
“Does he hurt you?”, you ask and he peels his weight away from your body, propping himself on one elbow by your side instead.
“No”, he replies quietly and smiles when you reach to grab his other arm and place it around your waist. You then hum, fingers tracing scars you’re familiar with. Faded marks on his chest, his back, his shoulder and arm. Oliver’s gaze softens at your unspoken worry.
“His father”, is the explanation he offers, “Sae never touched me”. His thumb starts stroking the skin above your hip and you sigh, relieved, melting into him like you always do.
“Does he ever hurt you?”, the question makes you chuckle but Oliver is serious, scowl getting deeper.
“No”.
“Does it feel good? Does it feel the same?”.
His hand disappears underneath the sheets and you jolt weakly against him when knuckles graze your bare skin before fingers start collecting the slick that still trickles out of your spent hole. You take his face in your hands and pull him closer to make sure he looks at you, not wanting your next words to sound as if you’re only speaking under the effect of the pleasure he’s providing.
“Never. It could never-”, a gasp when he dips one finger inside you, “it will never”.
For the following minutes, the only sounds in the room are your soft whimpers against his mouth and the increasingly wet, lewd noises produced by his fingers, the increasingly restless roll of your hips barely able to meet movements that drive you insane.
“I love you”, he murmurs, a low groan bubbling up from his throat when he curls his fingers and you see stars, muffle a moan into his neck, one hand closing around his wrist and nails digging into his skin. You’re still shaking when he pulls you into his chest, brings one of your legs around his hips. There’s a familiar hardness pressing against you and you tentatively rub yourself against it, face hidden into the juncture between his neck and shoulder.
“I will buy you”, you whisper, “I will buy you from him and set you free”.
Oliver stills your movements with a gentle hold of your hips, his other hand stroking the small of your back. Having you close is, once more, enough.
“He will never sell me”.
“Then you should stop seeing me. He will grant you freedom one day but if he ever finds out…”.
“What an absurd suggestion”, a quiet laugh shakes him, “giving up on the one thing that gives my life meaning at all”.
“He’ll take your life, Oliver. You could die because of me”.
“Then so be it. I would die after having lived”.
You pull back and meet his only half playful gaze.
“Don’t mock me. And don’t you dare leave me alone in this life”.
“Is that a request or an order, mistress?”.
Your groan elicits a chuckle. Oliver kisses the crown of your head, wraps his fingers in your hair.
“He owns my freedom, everything else is yours. I don’t fear punishment, only an existence void of you”, he speaks in Greek, attentively, and your heart throbs painfully once more. You kiss him, soft and gentle, then decide to be just as playful while your thumb delicately grazes the portion of skin underneath his eye.
“Really?”, you also ask in Greek, “I heard rumors of his wife requesting to lie with you. Does that feel the same?”.
He offers a boyish smile, gently bumping his forehead against yours.
“You’re ridiculous”.
“Not a very convincing answer”.
Oliver sighs.
“It feels like nothing, woman”.
You hum, feigning pensiveness.
“They say she’s beautiful”.
“She is”.
“Just so you know, this conversation is not going well for you”.
Oliver chuckles, lowers his head to press a kiss to the corner of your mouth. He stays here, lips brushing against yours, in hopes you’ll swallow his next words and let them take root in every crevice of your body. Maybe then you’ll believe him.
“Aphrodite herself wouldn’t be a match for you”.
“Flatterer”, you whisper, amused. It’s not lost on you, the way he intentionally used her Greek name instead of naming her Roman counterpart, Venus.
Oliver smiles, taking a second to observe features already carved into his very soul. He cups your cheek and thinks he wouldn’t mind dying like this, with you turning your head enough to press your lips to his wrist, eyes softened by sincere adoration.
“In love”, he corrects.
100 notes · View notes