#TW; references to SA

[mintharabaenrelore]

I wasn't satisfied with my previous post on Orin and Minthara, so here is the updated, more organized version.

Remember, on the Baldur's Gate 3 Wiki, Orin is described as Minthara's "former abuser".

"The drow woman was the only survivor, favored by Orin as the shapeshifter's new toy. She personally took Minthara into the towers' cellars and held the drow as the Absolute infected her with a mind flayer tadpole, making Minthara a True Soul.

The mental control of the Absolute deluded Minthara's mind. She found herself being almost infatuated by Orin the Red. The drow eagerly absorbed the shapeshifter's every word and took up arms in service of the new goddess."- Forgotten Realms Wiki

"Because of course she had great admiration and almost love for Orin"- Emma Gregory, Minthara's (very talented) VA

What do we know?

Minthara is terrified of Orin- she says so herself. She does not believe she can protect herself from her and asks the PC to do so.

Ketheric Thorm sent a True Soul and 2 novices to Menzoberranzan, 'preaching a message of togetherness'. Minthara killed them. She then used a 'simple act of necromancy'- likely Speak to the Dead, but as I said in my timeline, corpses don't speak to their killer, so I don't know how she did this. They informed her where to strke, and so she went to Moonrise Towers with a retinue of warriors and assassins. As she referred to them as 'her men', I believe they were all male.

She met Ketheric at a feast, he proposed an alliance between Moonrise and Menzoberranzan. During all of this, Orin was at the foot of the table, and Minthara notes she should have been more wary of her- the 'pale woman'. Then, Orin spoke for the first time. Minthara caught only her name. Orin then climbed across the table, 'a dagger in each hand', skipped toward her, 'slicing' the throats of her men as she passed by them. Ketheric held Minthara still, a hand on her shoulder, 'the grip tight enough to crack bone'.

Orin stood before her and touched a dagger to her eye, 'drawing out a tear of blood'. Why did she do this? It's possible it was to prepare for the tadpole's insertion, but knowing Orin, I believe she just likes stabbing eyes- that's what she does to whoever she kidnaps, after all. Anyways, Orin said, in these exact words, "I want this one." This is where things get vague.

Ketheric gave her permission, and Minthara never forgave him for 'handing' her to Orin. In fact, she says "For that, I hope Myrkul hollows out his bones and lets them be dust." Minthara was then taken 'below'- by Orin herself, I believe. (Whether that means she was dragged to the colony or injured already or something else, I can't be certain.)

Minthara was kept for days in the mind flayer colony by Orin herself. She was forced to watch as her men were processed as food and thralls. When Orin kidnaps someone, she appears to use a paralysis of some sort, so I theorize that's how Minthara was 'forced to watch'. Unsurprisingly, Minthara has 'grim' memories of the place.

Two contrasting statements are made about exactly how Minthara was tadpoled, but both directly involve Orin. Either Orin placed a tadpole in Minthara's eye herself, or she 'held' her down in a 'cocoon of flesh' (which may or may not mean a mind flayer pod; Minthara is familiar enough with mind flayers by this point that I think she would say so if it was) and 'laughed' at her fear as a mind flayer forced a parasite into her brain.

From that point on, Minthara was brainwashed, devoted to the Absolute. Orin was the Absolute's Chosen, who she believed to be speaking for her, and so Minthara 'worshipped' her. She thought she had found a home, a purpose, a new god. All her hopes and ambitions, encompassed in one person... or so she believed.

She says, "Orin was by my side. She told me that the Absolute had chosen me to be a True Soul. Blessed and adored. Now I know those memories are lies." Based off of the Wiki, I think she means Orin was lying to her, not that this never occurred.

One must ask, if Minthara was associating Orin with the Absolute, if Orin made the same connection, is she showing some sort of affection?

Whatever the case, during this all, the gruesome memory of her indoctrination was obscured, as during banter with Shadowheart, Minthara notes "I am glad my memories of the infection are not so clear."

Minthara didn't stay in the mind flayer colony for long. She says, "My indoctrination - my infection - took place at Moonrise, but I did not stay here for long. […] Ketheric recognized me as a soldier, and took me into his army immediately." Less fortunately, this doesn't mean she wasn't still seeing Orin from time to time.

At some point in the goblin camp, Orin may have visited her as a goblin says the Moonrise Types rarely visit Dror Ragzlin or Priestess Gut so the PC must be here for Minthara. Minthara has a flashback or a vision in which she listens as Orin 'whispers in her ear', getting closer and closer in a distinctly sinister manner. In Gut's scene, she is standing away from Gortash; in Ragzlin's, he is bowing. This makes Minthara's unique because 1. there is movement and 2. the power imbalance is evident, yet less so than in the other two.

How did Orin view her?

First off, why did Orin single Minthara out? Why did she choose her?

Remember, Orin wasn't supposed to kill Minthara's fellow drow. Here is the note found in Ketheric's room that references Minthara's "recruitment"-

“Sweeping up individual drow renegades is not giving us the cadre of Lolth-trained veterans I want for our staff and officer corps; we must be more ambitious. Agent Xilvre, True Soul 113, will be commanded to infiltrate Menzoberranzan itself, ideally House Baenre, ostensibly to proselytise on the behalf of the divine Absolute. I think Xilvre will be convincing in this role.

This intrusion will excite outrage among the Baenre matrons, who can be counted upon to send a warband to exterminate whoever was so rash as to promote anti-Lolth apostasy in their home. Xilvre will have left a clear trail back here to Moonrise Towers, where the warband will find, not a circle of ragtag heretics, but an army in the making. I will parley with the drow leader, but as we negotiate her warband will be ambushed, and every drow warrior we capture will be tadpoled. This accomplished, the warband leader will meet the same fate, and thus we shall acquire our cadre of hardened Underdark warriors. And all it will cost us is the life of loyal Agent Xilvre, but he is, truth be told, a tedious enthusiast and I will not miss him."

Here are some potential reasons that Orin spared her.

As Minthara herself points out not once but twice, she and Orin have similar traits. Orin also appears to understand her trust issues, as she says- when she kidnaps her and is impersonating her- that she believes the party will soon turn on her.

Orin is desperate for affection, devotion, because the Dark Urge was always Bhaal's favorite child. Minthara, a paladin, is just about the most devoted person you could ask for.

Perhaps, on some level, Orin missed Durge and wanted a replacement who was similar to them- deadly and cunning, a leader.

"I gave you this command because I saw something in you. Your efficiency- your ruthlessness- your killer's instinct."-Ketheric. This is why Ketheric valued her; perhaps Orin felt similarly.

But what do I believe, personally?

Orin is sadistic, we know this. She enjoys breaking her victims, physically and mentally- especially resilient ones. So, while it's unpleasant to think about, I believe the most likely reason is that Orin simply wanted to see someone so powerful and self-contained suffer.

I also think that Orin's childish personality is at work here, in some sort of twisted curiosity or fascination with this beautiful, ruthless stranger.

Anyways, I think Orin viewed Minthara as a plaything, a pet project, a toy. (Actually, considering the Forgotten Realms Wiki, this is canon.) Something she could hurt or use, something that would praise and adore her, 'worship' her, "adore" her (according to the Wiki). A fascination, an obsession, to whom she could manipulate however she pleased, to whom she could be God. Minthara's blind devotion was filling a void within Orin, sating that craving for approval and love.

It's confirmed Orin physically harmed Minthara- "I have faced Orin before and she left scars on me that will never heal. She will enjoy adding to them" and "I will dissect her for laying her blade on me again" (this confirms that Orin used Bloodthirst on her, as this is Minthara's line when she is Orin's victim and is freed during the battle) are two examples.

The note on Orin enjoying scarring her and how Minthara later says Orin will 'tease and toy' with them until she 'tires of the hunt' is also telling.

The treatment of Minthara by her lessers and superiors also suggests she was Orin's toy and everyone knew it- Balthazar refers to her as the PC's "pet drow", Zealot Malik says to "keep her on a tight leash",

I also think that Minthara was directly influenced as Orin's own "Chosen" or plaything, because she was far more bloodthirsty than usual; her torturers claim she was distracted by her desires for bloodlust, murder, and chaos, which sounds distinctly similar to our least-favorite Bhaalspawn. (Well. My least favorite Bhaalspawn.)

Did they have romantic relations?

I couldn't come to a conclusion previously, and while the evidence is imperfect, I think it's likely. (Remember, Minthara was under mind control and therefore not a willing party; which is obviously bad.)

I have a few reasons for thinking this.

Take the Grand Infernal Painting, for example- we know that Orin is capable of more than just bloodshed, she can make things weird. And Orin's impression of Minthara when she kidnaps her- "Will you watch when the others kill me? Will you hold my head back while they cut my throat? Will you whisper goodbyes as I gasp and bleed? Tempting tempting tempting. But not yet. Not yet." Take her statement about Minthara in the sewers- "Her skin will make a pretty pretty tapestry." In fact, take "I want this one," "I worshipped that woman", "Orin was by my side" etc.

When you ask Minthara "An old flame?" about Orin, she replies, "Jealous? You needn't be- when Orin is in my hands, her agony will nourish me." She also says "During my time in the cult, I came to know one of his"- Ketheric's- "co-conspirators all too well- Bhaal's blood-letter, Orin."

But I will remind you, there is not solid proof, just implications.

"It is hard to believe she is dead, after everything she did to me"- Minthara Baenre on Orin the Red

"We were both born of trauma"- Minthara Baenre on Orin the Red

[trans-androgyne]

Wake the fuck up and support transmascs, now. We are hurting. We feel isolated. We feel invisible. We feel unheard. If you think we don���t have issues of our own you have not been listening to us. If you think we all have gendered privilege you have not been listening to us. You’ve probably seen stories cherry-picked from the most privileged and passing among us, and assume we tend to be like that or on that path. It is not true. You’ve probably seen our struggles downplayed and compared to transfems’ — almost always done without actually asking the diverse transmasc community — to say we have it easy. It is not true. We are entering the public eye in a very bad way. We are mistreated for our trans masculinity both inside and outside the queer community. We are at the highest risk for suicide and sexual assault but people assume we need fewer resources anyway. I’m the one who’s had to do everything for transmascs myself in my area. I cannot do this alone. Please for the love of any gods out there love and support transmascs before it’s too late. We are suffering too.

[genderbendqueen]

Ftm Danny being held by the giw for months/years and raped multiple times by the for science.

JLA saves him and he ends up in batman/bruces care. Slowly danny starts to heal

Flash forward to a few months later and hes not feeling well constantly sick and exhausted. Bruce gets him checked out and low and behold dannys pregnant.

Learning this danny locks himself in his room and shuts down. Dick who heard danny locked himself in his room but not why ends up climbing up the balcony letting himself in and just sits with the ghost boy.

Dick learns the truth and decides to share his SA that hes never told anyone else about.

After a few hours the two leave the room and talk to Bruce. Together they discuss all options and confirm that no matter what they would support him and after thinking on things Danny decides he cant go through with it.

An appointment is made and followed through, just like promised bruce and dick and there to support him.

[bishonenvoicedbyadyke]

extracts from the vampire armand, Anne Rice, 1998

[ricksanchezbignaturals]

getting mouthwashing on my fyp now and if i keep seeing people say "grape" or fucking "🍇" im gonna go ballistic

[dootznbootz]

I went on tiktok to just watch some silly Odysseus videos but then I mostly saw people going like "Yeah, maybe Odysseus cried on Calypso' island every day but honestly he had that coming after what he did Achilles and Patroclous/Circe!!!" and "Everything that happens in Odyssey is deserved cuz he took Patrochilles to war!!!" and "I feel so bad for Circe and Calypso and Penelope, they deserved better!!!"

For fucks sake I beg you, read anything different from Millers bs and like educate yourself- And please stop goddamn saying that rape victim. deserved it.

Circe probably didn't give a flying fuck, Calypso is a rapist and abuser and Penelope deserved everything she wanted and SHE WANTED ODYSSEUS

I think I've had enough internet for today, imma go wash my eyes with bleach. Anyways sorry for ranting here, i hope you don't mind it lmao

It's alright. I absolutely understand the vents about the whole thing. :'D No one deserves to be a victim of such a thing no matter WHAT they've done. I hope your eyes are okay after the bleach

Like Odysseus does so many fucked up things but Calypso and Circe? He is the victim. Period. It's very clear that Odysseus is in extreme distress on Ogygia. And Circe wasn't some sort of FwB situation. There's fear and numbness in the language he uses when talking about it. There's so much victim blaming and it SUCKS.

Even then, Odysseus' journey was kind of about "temptation" or just straight up "Die or get out of my sea." From Poseidon. "I don't want you in my waters so I'm gonna try and give you things that will keep you on land or just kill you."

Immortal goddesses wanting you would be many people's dream come true but not for Odysseus. And I think that's the point. His determination, how he clawed his way back into the arms he never wanted to leave in the first place, is incredible. Many people would've given up and just started a new life but he never would because no life he could ever create would compare to the life he had before. Even if it's different, it's what he's always wanted.

He literally tells Calypso "I'm not stopping until I'm home. I don't care if I suffer more until I do. I'm going home."

“Mighty goddess, do not be angry with me over this. I myself know very well Penelope, although intelligent, is not your match                                          to look at, not in stature or in beauty. But she’s a human being and you’re a god. You’ll never die or age. But still I wish, every moment to get back to my home,                                                       to see the day of my return. And so, even if out there on the wine-dark sea some god breaks me apart, I will go on— the heart here in my chest is quite prepared to bear affliction. I’ve already had so many troubles, and I’ve worked so hard                                  through waves and warfare. Let what’s yet to come be added in with those.”

(Book 5, Johnston)

Circe's a goddess and what happened is nothing like Dionysus and Ariadne and Apollo and Hyacinthus for example. Circe never gave Odysseus a crown of stars and he would never go out of his way to kill 120 people for bothering her. They did not love each other and he can't refuse as she's a goddess.

If you interpret them sleeping together the entire year,(It's only explicitly said that they had sex once so that's what I go with personally.) that doesn't mean he was happy with it! Even then, the whole situation is not what a healthy FwB should look like! I'm asexual and even I know that no one in a FwB situation should have to BEG in any way that basically says "Please let me go or kill me" with supplication!!! The fact that he leaves so quickly he forgets one of his men? The fact that during Elpenor's funeral, he doesn't greet Circe himself? He was avoiding her. Wouldn't he want to get "one last night together" during Book 12 if they were fwb? 🙄

It's bonkers to me that people hate him for being a "cheater" when A.) having multiple lovers wasn't uncommon in Ancient Greece, and B.) the two people he is explicitly said to have "cheated" with, weren't his choice. He wasn't actively searching for pretty women either!!!

As mentioned, while it was common for men to have many lovers, Odysseus never had any listed unlike some of the other men. (not bashing any of them. I'm just making a point in comparison.) He also has no other children besides Telemachus in Homer's works. There's no evidence of him having other lovers other than speculation. (funny enough, I once read somewhere that the reason why Odysseus is so mean is because he doesn't "bond" enough with the other soldiers. 😂)

Does that mean he didn't have other lovers? Technically, Nope! It's just never explicitly stated either way. He has slaves but none were ever said to be concubines or that he sleeps with them. He has deep bonds with his fellow soldiers but that doesn't mean he sleeps with them. That doesn't mean people can't write or talk about him doing so even though it's not mentioned! Just like it also means that someone can write him not doing so as there's nothing that says it either way in Homer's Works! :D

It's fucked up when people say "He didn't try to leave Calypso enough" or something of the like. It just tells you how A.) they didn't read the Odyssey or have piss on the poor reading comprehension or B.) ...you should probably stay away from that person...

With Circe though??? I can understand the confusion but digging deeper and looking at the text, he wasn't having a good time. Or at the very least was walking on Eggshells the whole time. I hate bringing up that essay over and over again but like...I literally wrote everything there.

I also don't like how people take Circe's morally gray-ness away from her. Let her do something fucked up to be fucked up!!! Let her traumatize Odysseus!

Idk, I kind of hate that I'm "known" for this but I relate to this idiot asshole a lot and it means a lot to me that his story, despite what happens to him, has a happy ending :'D

[coockie8]

I don't know if I've mentioned it on here before, but I've mentioned it elsewhere, that I probably wouldn't be able to maintain a relationship, romantic or otherwise, with an anti. Whether they're the feral ''kys'' type anti or not.

A lot of people seem to misinterpret that as me letting pointless fandom drama control my relationships, but that's genuinely not the reality. Fictional squicks are not the issue here; the treating fictional anything like it's comparable to my lived trauma is, and that is a thing that all antis do.

I don't care if lolicon and incest fiction makes you uncomfortable, you are allowed to be uncomfortable, but the reality is this shit is fiction, and fiction is not the same as 13-17 year old me getting sexually assaulted by multiple different adults on multiple different occasions.

I simply would not be able to maintain a relationship of any kind with someone who thinks a fucking drawing is in any way comparable to what those men did to me!

[lyculuscaelus]

A Delicate Copy

(AU; a pretty old one-shot, finally got the time to upload it on tumblr)

Nobody greeted him “morning” this time.

He woke up on an unfamiliar beach. The sand felt different—coarser than the one he used to sit on in those last seven years. The air smelled misty, unlike the clear sky that used to embrace most parts of the island with her warm arms, a cycle lasting for seven years. He saw the trees growing in bloom, but they did not remind him of his homeland—for he didn’t find that forest anywhere, nor did he see his beloved Mount Neriton. There were only mists, mists that used to arise from the wine-dark sea, mists that used to hide the face of death where gods were lurking, mists that used to give way to the warmth of a cave, in the past seven years.

And that was when he finally realized he was lost. Again.

The tired mariner crumbled on the beach, and sobbed.

He didn’t check what his tears were made of, for he knew there was nothing but pain in them. Pain as found in the glimmering reflection, pain as found in himself. Twenty years of pain condensed into one single teardrop, and he held up his hands to wipe it from his face.

But he sobbed still.

He did not see the herd of sheep coming. He did not see the young man cloaked in a kingly air walking. He sobbed until he felt himself melting, and that was when he stopped, for his sorrow had brought him burning rage. Rage for an unjust promise.

“Where did the Phaeacians send me? What country have I come to this time?” he roared, clenching his fists. “Why did they leave me here—with all this treasure I cannot protect? Have those Phaeacians not promised me to send me home—to my homeland where I came into being? And now what foreign land is this? Those idiots…they did me wrong indeed. May Zeus, god of suppliants, grant them a punishment that is only too proper for them…but for now, let me just count these gifts, in case some of them happen to be missing.”

And so he counted. The tripods seemed untampered, and the cauldrons looked fine. Gold and silver, and all this splendid clothing—surprisingly, he found nothing missing. Then he rose to his feet, and again he wandered, on this unfamiliar beach, with a heart much-enduring he let out another wail of sorrow, another stream of tears.

And then, the young man came forward. A cloak across his shoulders, A spear in his hand—the tip seemed somewhat strange—the young shepherd stopped, and regarded him curiously.

“Friend,” he addressed the young shepherd quickly, wiping out his tears when his eyes were not coping. “You’re the first one I see here. Will you promise me no harm, if I greet you with open arms? For I’m entreating you, like I would a god, to save me, protect my goods, and keep me in good company. I’m begging you, as a friend on his knee. Now please tell me everything, so I can understand—what country have I come to? What people have I met? Is this a sunny isle, or a headland of the mainland reaching out to sea?”

“Stranger—are you a fool? Wait no, I don’t think you are, so you must be a traveler from a distant land,” the young man answered him, his eyes gleaming with amusement. “But I’m sure men from different places have all heard of this island—because of its fertility? Maybe. But it’s a rugged place not fit for herding horses. You can find crops and grapes here, though, but it’s not like they’re uncommon. So I suppose it’s because of its heroes—stranger, do you happen to know the great Argonaut Laërtes, or Odysseus the sacker of cities? This is where they come from—such a place well-known, for I’m sure even lands far as Troy would still recognize the name ‘Ithaca’.”

He twisted his head, searching for memories. Ithaca—a name he had whispered so many times, to the goddess waiting in her cave, to the king sitting on the Phaeacian throne, in the songs he had sung in his pleading. He felt his lips lifting as joy swarmed up in his chest, but something about this place seemed strange…it still felt foreign to him, for some reason.

So he answered carefully. “Ithaca—a famous name indeed. I’ve heard of it even in wide Crete, somewhere far across the sea. Ah, so I’m finally here in person, with all these goods of mine. But there is more that I left when I fled from my city, when a dear son of Idomeneus fell to my own hands, for that swift-footed Orsilochus wished to take away the spoils I had won at Troy, for which I had suffered so much already—in the devastating war and on the dangerous sea. We struck him when he was heading home—me and my companions, with my bronze-tipped spear I ended him. But then I ran off to a ship, paying some Phoenicians to get me to other lands—I’d hoped they would take me to either Pylos or Elis, but the winds did not heed our command. And then here I was, worn out by exhaustion, laid low by sleep. But when I woke up, I found them all gone—and now it’s just me, alone with all my goods, here on this foreign land, seeking help.”

The young man smiled, and replied with a hand reaching out to his left shoulder. “Surely, Odysseus, one’s cunningness must be so wily if he is to outwit you—even for a god.”

He felt a jerk in his heart. How would a young shepherd like him see through his disguise?

“Yes, I know who you are—that pair of eyes I have indeed seen and heard of,” the young man continued gleefully. “But come now, Odysseus, do you really think there will be a celebration party waiting for you here? No, you will find troubles in your home, and I fear even you cannot defeat them this time.”

“What trouble are we speaking of?” Odysseus asked tentatively. “Then again, something feels wrong about this place already. If it is indeed Ithaca you’re speaking of, I don’t find any evidence—”

“You’re always thinking like that, aren’t you?” the young shepherd giggled. “No wonder people call you polymetis. Anyone else would’ve rushed to meet his wife and children—but not Odysseus. No, he’d test everything with trickery first, then he’d observe his wife himself, seeing if she’s still the Penelope he knew of—the answer is yes, even if you’d like to see for yourself. She still remains your wife—though not for long. At this very moment there are one hundred and eight suitors reveling in your house, spending your wealth as they wait for your wife to reconsider her marriage—a proposal she’s been denying for three years straight.”

He felt delighted, somehow, knowing that Penelope remained his own, even when he didn’t belong to Penelope alone anymore. For days he had been wondering if Penelope would find comfort in the fact that she didn’t have to wait for him any longer, and now…he could finally find out for himself.

“As for this place,” the young shepherd continued, pointing to the west. “I bet you can’t recognize it because of all this fog—it’ll probably disperse any moment soon—see? Now it’s gone.”

And then Odysseus saw it—Mount Neriton, where the forest was verdant; Phorcys’s anchorage, with an olive tree standing at the harbor head; the Naiads’ cave beside it—where one would make sacrifices to the nymphs to grant their wishes. And as Odysseus beheld everything, he fell to his knees, kissing the fertile ground with great passion, and held out his hands towards the nymphs with an utterance of prayer. The young man watched him with interest. But when Odysseus finished his prayer, the young shepherd replied. “Now let’s not delay but put these goods in some hidden corner of this sacred cave. Then I’ll tell you all the details about the troubles in your house before you go.”

And they brought them all into the cave—the shining bronze and gold, the fine clothes and all other gifts—and then they worked together to move a rock in place to block the entrance. When they had finished their work, the young shepherd was the first to speak. “Now, Odysseus, you can begin to plan for the suitors’ demise. That is a task I cannot assist you—but know that you can always trust your swineherd and your own son. So, stop by his house before you head for the palace. You can learn about everything that transpires in your house there.”

Then the shepherd gestured to him to go.

And Odysseus nodded with gratitude, then walked away. He didn’t notice how the young shepherd stared at his back, how a smirk revealed itself on his lips, how he slowly walked up, a spear in his hand, and all of a sudden—

Odysseus found himself falling to his knees, his back bleeding. 

And then the pain suddenly struck.

He knelt down to the ground, gasping in surprise and anguish. He barely caught a glimpse of the young man pacing beside him, as the shepherd finally spoke. “Well done, Odysseus, you have left your back open.”

“Why…why are you doing this?” Odysseus growled, his voice failing. “Who…are you?”

“A son you never had,” the young man smiled ominously. 

“Te…Tele…?”

“No,” the young man cut him off, looking away in disgust. “No, you’re the farthest thing I have to a father.”

“But…but why?”

“Touch your wound, and you’ll find your answer.”

So he stretched out his right hand with effort, and found the wound he did. Strangely, he did not see any red stained on his fingers—for there was no blood at all. Instead, a drop of water dripped from the tip of the finger, falling towards the sands. “What is…happening to me?” he hissed.

The young shepherd pointed at him with the spear, letting slip his words with wings. “I see you’re a good lier…but not as good as him. I know what you are at first sight—a shadow, a counterfeit, a phantom made of cloud—”

“What?” he exclaimed, his eyes wide open.

“Yes, you’re no Odysseus of Ithaca…” the young shepherd crouched down, lowering his face of mockery. “You’re nothing but a mere eidolon—of the man who is supposed to be here. I see you’re sharing his memories, his wits—but the thing is, you lack his spirit. The heart of a man is built upon hardships he endured, not hardships he remembered. For him, it’s been nineteen years since he had seen his home; but for you, it’s been twenty-seven days only.”

“How could you possibly know?” he snarled, ignoring his pain. “Who are you to judge my memory? The things I recall—the things I feel—They’re so real to me. I can smell the scent of gore as faces of men were smashed against the walls in that Cyclops’s cave, see the rays of Helios diminish as we entered the realm of Hades, hear the war-cries as we clashed with the Trojans…I have felt the pain of losses. I have known fear. I have suffered and sailed through the toughest of hells…and now you’re telling me that all these memories are nothing but fancy?”

“First of all,” the young man rose to his full height. A cloud of gold suddenly enshrouded the shepherd. The next thing he saw, the one standing before him had become a tall woman, armed with a panoply, her spear blazing. Upon her helmet, the red crest seemed as if drenched in blood. On the face of her shield, the head of a Gorgon stood out menacingly.

“…Athena?”

“I am to judge as I say so.” the woman allowed a smirk on her lips. “Second, no, these memories aren’t your fancy—they’re just not yours to begin with. Third, you are far from the man you’re trying to impersonate. For that reason, I have no use for you to clean up the mess here in Ithaca. Now, look at my eyes and tell me—where is Odysseus?”

He gasped, and raised his head painfully. His strength was failing him. “But I am…Odysseus.”

“Don’t keep fooling yourself. What you bear with you is not yours, and I cannot let you take what he has from him—his form, his memories, his sufferings…and his wife, his son, his family. I cannot allow you to have your ‘revenge’ while the real Odysseus suffers still,” the goddess glared at him, her eyes gleaming with rage. “I’ll ask you again—where is he?”

The pain was working its way through his veins as he once again crumbled, this time breathing rapidly as he felt his life slipping away. He had never felt the brink of death so close to him…but then, what remedy could he possibly find to appease the rage of a goddess?

Goddess…

“I don’t know…I’m sorry…” the words sounded softer than a whisper. He knew that death had finally found him—a sacker of cities, a man of twists and turns…

…a shadow of this man, at least—

—he accepted his death like accepting his identity.

He did not see the fluttering waves, forming a near-smirk on the face of the sea.

He did not see the goddess of wisdom plunging her spear into the sands, calculating new wiles for her scheme.

He did not see the wife of Odysseus weeping by her loom, wherein a shroud had been woven, her time run out finally.

For at that moment, he had drawn his final breath already.

All of a sudden, the fallen body melted into a rising cloud, erasing any trace of recognition. A gist of steam rose up silently, taking away one last sign of its existence. Staring at the emptiness where a phantom of Odysseus had once laid, Athena already knew her answer.

“Calypso.”

…………………………………………………………………………………

(TW: implied SA)

He beheld the daylight blankly, trying to blink away the memories of the last five days. Or the last few years—the number had already lost its meaning here.

But he’d never thought the goddess would be cruel enough to lock him up in the cave for five days straight. Five days without sunlight, five days without fresh air, five days without mourning by the sea, whispering hopes of his homecoming.

The door was only opened when he was in need of food…or when the goddess was in need of him. 

Why don’t you just close the door forever, and trap myself in? Why don’t you just leave me here dying of hunger, or simply suffocating?

Is it really necessary to open the door again?

Odysseus shook his head, continuing his walk towards the shore. He didn’t turn to see if the goddess was following behind—he couldn’t care anymore. It wasn’t even the goddess herself who freed him—he just woke up finding the door open, and took his chance. And now he had finally come out, no goddess in sight.

I’d rather die than let you take possession of me. It’s a thought he had whispered on the first night, when he was asked into her cave. When he was forced into her cave. Only now had he realized, he had been so simple, so naïve. 

He did not die, but he had been her possession ever since.

Sometimes he would just hope that the goddess would be merciful enough to simply let him die an Ajax’s death. Sometimes he would think about casting himself into the neighing sea, wishing for an end to all this misery. But he would always restrain himself whenever he thought of Penelope. He just couldn’t leave her waiting forever.

“But you already did,” sometimes he could hear the goddess’s voice answering. “You failed your comrades already. What makes you think you won’t fail your family?”

Is that really her voice? Or is it just an illusion? He could no longer tell the difference. Reality had become the nightmare he woke up to, and he couldn’t find solace in his dreams either.

It’s as if I’m dead inside…

But deep down, he knew he was dead already. Dead to the mortal world he knew of, dead to the people he loved and cared for. If anything, at least he was not physically dead yet.

But after five days of that kind of treatment…he only hoped to be long dead before then.

What are those five days for?

He had no answer. Although…some trees did appear to be missing. He’d always notice it whenever there was a tree missing. It was like an instinct, something he had trained himself when he used to garden with his father. But that memory had seemed so distant as Ithaca itself—so hard to access now. 

He had just reached the shoreline when he noticed a spot on the sea. 

Is that…a raft?

A raft in full sail, steered by a person with an oar, three large sacks beside them…

But then he saw the goddess, waving at the person on board, a pleasant smile on her face, as the raft slowly sailed away. The person on board—a man, as he saw that now, his face seemed rather familiar. It was as if…

Wait.

Is that…me?

Odysseus almost called, and stopped himself in fear of the goddess. That man didn’t seem to notice him, but instead turned towards the brightening horizon, a brave new journey ahead…

What on top of Mount Neriton is going on here?

But then he found the goddess approaching. The smile on her face had somehow turned malicious, and Odysseus wasn’t sure if he’d want to find out why. The goddess walked up to him, and gave his shoulder a squeeze.

“Now that he’s gone,” the goddess looked beyond the wine-dark sea, beyond the lands and islands that had composed his wanderings, then whispered gently to his ears. “It’s like I promised, Odysseus of Ogygia: we shall have our eternity.”

[ipostdumbthings]

Astarion NSFW Headcanons with Reader

Astarion has explored sexuality fully in his past, but never in a way that he had ever had any control over. He was so emotionally detached from it that he never really considered what it was he actually likes to do with a partner. It never really mattered before.

Once he’s on his path to recovery, though, he finds he enjoys sampling all the options that are available to him. If you’re up for it he’ll try damn near everything. It’s almost like trying to shop with him: “A little of this a little of that, oh no, neither will do.”

The early days of this new adventurousness are largely left for less intense, light-hearted fair. He’ll happily suggest things like chocolate and whipped cream, after all, he gets to sample something sweet while you two are entwined together, why shouldn’t you? Exploring like this is pretty important in reframing what sex means to him. It lets him shrug off some of the burdens he’s always felt attached to sexuality, and turns it into something fun. Something blissfully free of anything outside of enjoying one another.

There is one notable exception, he won’t be subbing. He may trust you with all his heart, but trust doesn’t cure trauma. It may be something he’s willing to try eventually, but it will take years before he can even think about it without getting upset. Especially picturing the person who helped free him being the one to dominate him. That alone can be triggering for him.

That doesn’t mean he isn’t pleased as can be with bottoming or pegging. He is genuinely excited to be on either side of that specific dynamic, especially when you two are just having fun together.

Rough sex is also very much still on the table. He doesn’t mind you pulling his hair or scratching your nails down his back. Not to mention how precious he thinks it is when you bite him. He loves it when you do.

He is more than happy to play dom, truthfully he gets a lot of satisfaction out of doing it. It affords him the ability to set the pace for encounters, and lets him spoil you in all the ways he delights in. He’ll be a little tentative when you start playing those games with him, making sure you’re okay with everything and checking in constantly. He gets comfortable quickly when he sees just how enthusiastically you respond to him.

And he is very eager to take that sort of thing as far as you want. His favorite thing to do is tease you for as long as possible while he’s got you tied up. Really make you beg for him. He finds it deeply fulfilling to have the person he needs the most need him back.

He’ll never in your entire life turn down an opportunity to feed on you during sex as long as it’s safe to do so. Even if he’s already fed. His favorite is to bite right as you cum, so he can drink from you at your most heightened moment, and see you well and properly spent when he’s done with you.

While he’s fine with you indulging in others, for the most part you’re going to be all he needs for a while. Sure he’ll test the waters with group sex, but if he doesn’t have the person he trusts most with him, he doesn’t have much interest. Whether or not that changes is up to the way you navigate your relationship. As long as you’re tending to his needs, he feels no real pressure to make any change in that regard.

He’ll always have a soft spot for deep and romantic moments of intimacy. Those moments when your souls feel connected and it seems like no one else in the world could ever grasp the depth of what the two of you share. He’ll go to great lengths to set up romantic moments like that for you, and if you repay him in kind you’ll never see more adoring eyes and a sweeter smile from him. It’s one of the few times he allows himself to indulge in saccharine sentiments.

[thepunkmuppet]

UGH I decided to rewatch That Scene in seeing red and all the spike stuff in the episode leading up to it, and just… it was so good. his and buffy’s characterisation, their performances, the writing, all SO GOOD. and then That happens and it’s all out the window for me.

not just because I personally hate seeing my favourite character (since I was 10) attempt to sexually attack my other favourite character, though yeah that might be a fucking factor jesus christ. but because it just doesn’t make sense. with spike, and specifically with spike and buffy, he can talk the talk and do nasty stuff in the bedroom all he wants but when it comes down to actually, genuinely hurting her, the end of season 5 onwards shows that he could NEVER. we actually had a tamer version of this in crush, when he ties her up. I’m sorry, but that taught him. there was a change from then on out.

yeah he has that mentality of “she loves me, she wants it”, and yeah that makes sense considering both his personality and the way buffy has acted within their relationship. and NO I’m not saying “she asked for it”, what I’m saying is she has on many occasions said no when she meant yes, and that has become pretty much the foundation and the appeal of their relationship for both of them. it doesn’t justify anything, it just means that it technically makes sense why a soulless and therefore selfish character like spike would take her actions in this way and push it to an extreme. but yeah personally it just doesn’t sit with me. it’s horrible.

if it had stopped before the bit where he pins her down, it would have got the point across. still nasty and horrible, still condemnable, but honestly just him trying to kiss her and her ending up falling on the bath and hurting herself would get the point across to spike, buffy and the audience in exactly the same way. it’s so unnecessarily brutal, and yeah, I know he’s a soulless monster, so I do sound like a bit of a knob, but genuinely he wouldn’t do that. after all that tenderness, all the genuine care he expresses for her with both words and actions from season 5-6… with her screaming and crying, there is NO WAY he would go that far, not at that point in his arc.

but that’s just my take I guess FUCK I literally HATE this scene what the hell

[aropride]

person sitting across from me in the library rn looks just like ex-oomf*'s partner it is freaking me OUT. no way its them bc why would they be in [town] and not [town on the other side of the state] but still.

[snognes]

Hi! I'm Nes, short for Inès, long for... Well, nothing.

Welcome to my safe place! Take a cup of your favourite drink and make yourself comfortable!

Here you will read my incoherent thoughts, mainly about Good Omens. I love a lot of things, like Doctor who, David and Georgia, Anna and Michael, or Kaamelott, but the Ineffable Husbands take up most of my brain...

Thanks for coming, and I hope you'll enjoy it here! Don't hesitate to come in my asks or my dm's, they're open, and I'll enjoy the distraction.

Oh and English isn't my first language, I'm sorry for any mistakes I could make!

Okay, so that was the fun part. For the least fun part:

I don't feel like talking about Good Omens without quickly mentioning him:

Maybe you're new to the fandom, or maybe you simply don't know it, but N*il G*iman has been accused by several women of sexual assault.

I won't judge your reaction, do as you think is the best for you! I just think it's important to be informed.

Take care of yourself, stay safe, and have a hug if you like one!

Personally, I'm super relieved to have an ending without him involved. This story is ours now.

[gentlefangz]

My god, who else did you corrupt?

You ruin all you touch

Betray all those you trust

[my-apollo-gies]

‼️WARNING‼️

Wounds, Blood, Bruises, Bite marks, referenced sexual assault

Don’t proceed if you don’t think you can handle it

Contents: list by chapter of the wounds/injuries jay gets in @writing-hat ‘s fanfic ‘Bending, But Never Breaking’

x | Next

chapters 1 & 2:

Severity:

white/black: N/A

blue: minimal 

green: tolerable 

orange: moderate

red: INTENSE 

chapter 1:

ball and chain

chapter 2: 

neck bruises (throat area)

cheek bruise (slammed to the floor)

bruised wrists (finger print shape)

cut on throat (nadakhans hook)

cheek bruise pt 2? (nadakhan holding his face tight)

hand cut (n. hook) (right hand)

bit lip (jay bit lip)

slap bruise (n. slapped him) 

collar bone bite

shoulder bite

more neck bruises (n. choking him)

~~~~~

let me know if anyone wants to be tagged in this list! and let me know if i should make more parts, it gives me another reason to reread more of this awesome fic!

i have no medical knowledge other than basic level + whatever ive picked up from my mum who is a nurse

[mnty-bubblegmyum]

me and my friend quotes hehe

this finna be a series because. why not.

^ are from sincerely yours <3

------------------------------------------------------

momasia to ^finn: im gonna tell Polina you like little kids

^finn: well she's older than me so who really likes little kids then. jk i swear

------------------------------------------------------

Ma'ati: (send video of her doing the tell your gf dance)

^finn: GYATTTTTTTTTTTTTTT

Ashton: GYATTTTTTTT

^finn: we twins we got the same mind fr

------------------------------------------------------

^finn: HELP MY TOILET SEAT CAME OFF 😭😭😭

Ma'ati: WHAT 😭😭

^*inster photo of nasty ass toilet seat falling off the hinge thing idk I'm not an engineer man*

^finn: doulve it and give it to the next person I'm not touching that shit

------------------------------------------------------

^finn: my papa is my grandpa and he's gray asf from smoking 20 packs a day

momasia: DAMN

momasia: he running through those packs faster than me and Zion stopped dating

------------------------------------------------------

milo: yeah guys face reveal I just got someone to go to school for me cuz im not allowed to after selling drugs to elementary schoolers

------------------------------------------------------

@honeychips-milo

[sweatandwoe]

this might be a stupid question but I couldn't find the revolver magazine article about ghost... what's the thing with Prime Mover that makes you uncomfortable? If it's questionable I'd like to opt out of using it but I'd like to know whats up

<3

I'll post it.

TW FOR MENTION OF SEXUAL ASSAULT/FORCED PREGNANCY

Like I knew the maternal slave part of the lyrics was kinda weird, but I also interpreted it as more like willingly giving your body to grow your child kinda thing. Reading this made me go 'oh. OH' and now I dislike the term a lot

Going to use new terms like: Papa's Partner, Papa's spouse, Papa's [insert spouse term of choice here], Mama, No the other Papa, Dama, Mapa, [insert gender neutral parent term of choice here]