#how the tragedy of the odyssey

[adrift-in-thyme]

My brother listened to the thunder saga today and immediately ran over to ask me if that’s how things went down in the Odyssey

[lyculuscaelus]

We’re in one of the oldest fandoms where the canon itself is long lost and the source materials for us to draw inspiration from are those of the earliest fanfics themselves—two of which being commonly accepted as beta canon due to their top quality. Sometimes these fanfics contradict each other due to all sorts of OOCs and inconsistencies which is forcing us to choose our own sources to rely on to draw fanart and write fanfics. Each generation of fanfic writers are introducing more headcanons in their works and sometimes their fanfics of fanfics become so popular that they are prompting new sub-fandoms to emerge, inspiring more people to draw fanart and write fanfics for these fanfics of fanfics. It’s almost as if there is a family tree of fanfics and we’re now reaching the third generation and beyond

[fantasy-nerdddd]

Is Epic A Tragedy?

I've seen a couple people here question whether epic is a tragedy or a celebration of ruthlessness. I'll try to answer that by checking the criteria of definitions of ancient greek tragedies and tragic characters and the modern interpretation of tragedy.

Tragedy in ancient Greece was not defined as something bad or what we call tragic. It's actually, according to Aristotle:

"Εστίν ούν τραγωδίαν μίμησης πράξεως σπουδαίας καί τελείας, μέγεθος έχουσιν, ηδυσμένω λόγω, χωρίς εκάστω τών ειδών έν τοίς μιριοις, δρώντων καί ού δι' απαγγελίας, δι' ελέου καί φόβου περαίνουσα τήν τών τιούτων παθημάτων κάθαρσιν." (Yes, I did copy the ancient Greek definition. No, I don't know why)

We'll go over Aristotle's points one by one:

Imitation of actions (μίμησης πράξεως): The tragedy must imitate and show actual actions. Of course it is. Even if we don't count the animatics, Epic will become a play, or a circus play, or whatever it will become at some point. Still in progress Epic does have both animatics and imitations purely by the music.

Has a certain length (μέγεθος έχουσιν): The tragedy needs to have a length not too short in order to relay every message and meaning, but not too long in order to keep the audience focused and entertained. Epic fulfills both, at least to me. I don't think you could say Epic is boring.

Cleansing (κάθαρσιν): The tragedy should satisfy the audience. The hero can't be way too bad, because the audience won't sympathise with them and will think of their punishment as inevitable and deserved. However, they can't be too good, because the audience won't understand the Gods and their punishment will be met with anger. The main character should be ambiguous. Odysseus manages that well; look at all the people defending him and all the people defending Poseidon, Circe and Polyphemus. He's not the best morally, but he is not hated by everyone and a devil upon earth.

Serious and important (σπουδαίας): Ofc, the tragedy must be serious and important. I think Epic is both. I mean, the Odyssey is a very serious matter, and taking 10 years to return to your homeland is pretty important. It wouldn't have been the second most well known epic if it wasn't important.

Finished (τέλειας): The tragedy must have everything that happened, the reasoning, the consequences and the excuses presented in some way. I'm not an objective judge because I knew the Odyssey before Epic, but there are no plot holes like that from what I know.

Seasonings (ηδυσμένω λόγω): The tragedy must have something to make it more interesting and entertaining. Yes, Aristotle used a parallel to cooking, but he mainly meant rhythm and music. I think the title shows that, yes, there's both. Epic The Musical is a musical after all.

Correct me if I'm wrong or missing anything, but for now the answer is yes, according to Aristotle, Epic is a tragedy.

That's going to be short, but tragedy is generally interpreted as a misfortunate event in general. Yes. I'm pretty sure Epic is a tragedy in this kind.

Now, let's see whether or not Odysseus is a tragic character. According to my Helen by Euripides professor, a tragic character has to:

• Fight with Fates and Gods generally but also other humans, sometimes even themselves.

• Go from ignorance to knowledge through facing tragic dilemmas, contradicting situations and dead ends. It also has to include the consequences of these actions (guilt, loneliness, woe, defeat or redemption)

• Result in moral freedom, which shows the personality of the tragic character

Okay, so, point 1. Odysseus fights with all 4 in some ways. In No Longer You, he hears that he won't make it back, misinterprets it and decides to change his personality in order to fight fate, making No Longer You a self-fulfilling prophecy. Gods are numerous. Poseidon in Ruthlessness, Get In The Water and Six Hundred Strike. Zeus' will in The Horse And The Infant. Athena, if we stretch it, in Warrior Of The Mind, Remember Them and My Goodbye. Calypso in Love In Paradise. Humans is Luck Runs Out and especially Mutiny, as well as the upcoming song Odysseus. Himself and his morals is one of the additions from Jorge, and a constant theme of Epic. Just A Man and Monster are centered around that however there are hints everywhere.

Point number 2 might be controversial, but I'll take as knowledge the "Ruthlessness is mercy" mentality and Odysseus' belief that it works as the story goes on. Odysseus starts with the Open Arms mentality, and in later songs starts to accept, even welcome and hunt ruthlessness. He starts to believe that ruthlessness will make him achieve his goal, showcased in Different Beast, Scylla, Thunder Bringer and, most of all, Six Hundred Strike and Odysseus. Does it work? For him and his family, his main priorities, yes. I'll take that as growing knowledge it will. He even says so in Monster:

"Ruthlessness is mercy upon ourselves

And deep down I know this well"

Are his words to be trusted? No, not really. But it's just one more point. As for the tragic dilemmas, contradicting situations and dead ends, I think I've got at least one example for each. Dillema is obviously the infant, Astyanax. Do you kill an innocent soul because you were told it will kill your family? Or do you spare it and hope for the best? Contradicting situations could be the lyrics from Just A Man and Puppeteer:

"Deep down I would trade the world to see my son and wife"

"There's no length I wouldn't go if it was you I had to save"

Up until Thunder Bringer, that's possible. But not both can happen when Zeus makes Odysseus choose. He'll either see his son and wife, or he'll save his brother-in-law, Eurylochus. I know he didn't really want to save Eurylochus at this point (though I don't believe he wanted him dead), but those promises are contradicting. Love In Paradise is a dead end for Odysseus. If Athena didn't care for him, he would have been left in Ogygia for eternity as Calypso's plaything. Odysseus thought it was a dead end. He saw death as his only way out. Hell, he almost acted on his suicidal thoughts (that was a very, very stressful part of the musical for me). And is anyone going to argue Odysseus doesn't feel guilt, woe, loneliness, defeat or redeemed at some point in the story? I thought so.

EDIT: I forgot point 3 for Tragic Odysseus, let me add it. The story hasn't ended yet, so we can't tell for sure. But I believe he'll have the choice, after killing the suitors, to soften down and live in peace or continue the ruthless, cold path. From the snippets we've heard, it's going to be the former. Which also reveals a thing or two about his character: he didn't want to be ruthless or cause pain. He has always wanted peace with his family, and he'll get it.

Odysseus is a tragic character, at least in Epic.

So why isn't the Odyssey classified as a tragedy? Or Odysseus by Homer a tragic character? There are two reasons.

a) It has no music or rhythm. Which means it doesn't fulfill all the criteria for a tragedy (look to the seasonings section)

b) In Homer's time, the word tragedy didn't exist. The word was created centuries later to fit plays like Prometheus Bound by Aeschylus, Antigone by Sophocles and Medea by Euripides. I'm not going to analyse those, but they involve acting and music, not just a guy reciting a poem.

Anyways, I didn't expect this to get this long. Tell me if I've missed anything or made a mistake :)

[thistlerock]

Hi why has the subtle romantic tension between a forty something year old pseudo-American soldier who's both a victim of the system and an abuser of his own power and the parasitic slug in his brain that perhaps previously felt entitled to his body because of its upbringing but has ultimately developed a love of life, and more specifically his life, and maybe him too, because they've come to an understanding and want to co-exist ruined my fucking LIFE in the spawn of like. One evening of reading through their ship tag. I literally cannot stop thinking about them send help???

[vaultureculture]

Reading Umberto Eco's The Name of the Rose again. It's fucking delirious with all the grandiloquent philosophy, theology and the passages in Latin, and it's so fun. Genuinely. What a puzzle of a book. Extremely historically accurate, too. I'm glad to have been taught Latin as part of my curriculum because it means I get to read this in the og version and fully understand it as I go.

This novel combines two of my favorite things, reading and translating. It's my favorite book, has been since I first read it at 13.

[pipiezexal]

time to take a secret thought and bury it forever

[australet789]

Some assholes on Instagram saying that Epic fans are "gaslighting" themselves about Odysseus being faithful to Penelope because of the Circe part and being pretentious about it and how we are stupid for considering The Odyssey romantic

Motherfucker

1. The Odyssey is an epic poem we all fucking know that? That it's a tragedy, technically comedy (comedy in ancient literature used to mean "happy ending", not funny stuff)

2. The Circe bit can be interpreted in different ways, as if it was fully consensual or not or just a transaction. There was still a difference in power dynamics, which was 100% mentioned by Calypso in the beginning, but if you choose to ignore that part if the same as saying some of Zeus' kids were ok to be conceived because the women agreeded to what A GOD wanted.

3. Obviously Epic!Odysseus is differente from Homer!Odysseus, but trying to say Homer! Odysseus is a horrible person that fully wanted to cheat on Penelope just because you want to defend ALEXANDER HAMILTON, i have bad news about you.

4. "The crew had to beg to go back!" I read the Odyssey too. As a child and a few days ago. They stayed on Circe's island to rest so Odysseus job as a captain was literally wait until his crew told him they were ready to leave, specially after what they have lived. Odysseus didnt force anyone to stay in that island, when the crew went "oh, sir, we miss our families, please lets go back now, yes?" Odysseus immediately said "ok". It literally felt like a father waiting for the kids to stop playing in the playground.

5. Homer!Odysseus is not perfect, at all (man killed his disloyal maids because he didnt want to deal with shit anymore, even if they also were coerced/raped by the suitors), but come with a better gotcha than Circe. You are just fixiated on the Telegony and it shows.

6. Idk what to tell you, but if you think renouncing a life with two inmortal godesses (one of whom offered you immortality), traveling for 10 years defying a God's rage, killing 108 men who wanted to marry your wife (and ruined your house), almost killed yourself when said wife rejected you only for her to go "haha i was just testing you, silly :)", have your literally marriage have a word created for you two specifically is not romantic... Idk go read Bridgerton

[applepiewinchesters]

Every Universe (Logan Howlett x fem!Reader)

A/N: This was written while I was slightly intoxicated, I regret nothing though and hope you guys enjoy it. It was proofread but I cannot say there will be no grammatical errors. Regardless, please enjoy!! :) Also, takes place in the Deadpool and Wolverine universe.

Word Count: 4,158 (this bitch is long, for me at least)

Warnings: None really unless you count angst and fluff as well as the mention of butt stuff

Finding out that not falling in love with a man being the sole reason you were sent to the void seemed like a pretty patriarchal reason to essentially be damned but who were you to question the TVA.

The day you were sent to the void you’d seen the news, MULTIPLE CASUALTIES AFTER ATTACK AT XAVIER’S SCHOOL FOR GIFTED YOUNGSTERS, names such as Jean Grey, Marie D’Ancanto, Scott Summers, Hank McCoy, and Logan Howlett were read out by the heartbroken looking anchor.

Being a mutant yourself, the news stung and left a pit of anxiety in your stomach. It was an attack by an anti-mutant terrorist group, if they were bold enough to attack the home of Charles Xavier, why not a shopping mall next, or another school full of mutant and non-mutant children alike.

Only minutes after the newscast on the tragedy started four rectangular, orange portals opened in front of and behind you. Four men dressed in odd looking military uniforms stalked towards you. You didn’t even have time to attempt to fend them off before they grabbed you, holding you down while you attempted to break free but even with your mutation, they were too strong.

All you remembered was one of them placing some weird stick against your stomach and you screamed as you essentially dissolved into nothing.

When you woke you were found by who you now knew as Blade, and were told you were in the Void, where you would stay until you died or were killed by a fellow member of said Void.

You’d been there for a what you thought was probably a few years when a couple of Deadpool and Wolverine variants were found by Laura in an absolutely fucked Honda Odyssey. She brought them there and Gambit and Blade brought them inside and laid them down. They appeared as if they’d just had a horrific fight or the most violent sexual encounter ever.

The Wolverine variant was the first to wake up, quite literally shooting up into a sitting position while breathing heavily. His claws extended quickly from his knuckles, and he made an almost animalistic sound.

“Easy there killer,” you almost teased, holding up your hands, you’d been the one unfortunate enough to be closest to him when he woke up, so his eyes immediately fixed on you.

Several emotions seemed to flash across his face at once, his look of anger changing to one of shock. His claws disappeared just as quickly as they’d appeared just moments ago as you slowly put your hands down, now a little concerned for the man.

“Y/N?”, he asked, his head tilting slightly.

It was your turn to look confused, “Did we know each other?”, you asked.

Sure, you’d heard of Wolverine, of Logan, but you’d never met him personally, you had originally been set to attend Charles Xavier’s school when you were 18 but after an attack on the school the same year your parents had decided against it.

The Logan before you’ s face fell slightly; he seemed almost hurt. It took him a second to respond, “I, uh, I guess not.”

That was when Elektra cut in, explaining to Logan where he was and how she’d found him and Deadpool. While he seemed to only half listen, he got up and found the nearest bottle of Gambit’s booze and started drinking it.

When Deadpool woke up it was a completely different side of weird, you hadn’t had the pleasure of coming across a Deadpool variant, but you’d heard how odd they were, and unfortunately for you, you thought they were exaggerating.

After annoying literally everyone in the room, the Deadpool variant all got you to somehow agree to help him and Wolverine get back to the TVA to save his timeline, as well as a sneak attack on Cassandra Nova. The whole time Logan watched you from the corner of his eye.

He couldn’t completely convince himself it was you. The last time he’d seen you, you were lying dead on the front lawn of the school, killed by a large group of humans, along with almost everyone at the mansion. You were covered in blood and cold by the time he’d gotten there. He’d held onto you until the coroner was nearly begging to take you away.

Logan remembered almost everything about you. Your favorite movie, what food you hated, and even the feel of your hand in his. But when you looked at him with little to no recognition in your eyes, his heart could’ve broken all over again.

You had no idea the conflicting feelings he’d had while you sat only a few feet away. You looked practically the same, maybe older than you were when you’d died in his world, he was older too, maybe you just didn’t want to be with an old man and were pretending not to know him. He was the worst Wolverine after all, he wouldn’t blame you.

But then there were some things you did that reminded him of his version of you, the way your laugh sounded exactly the same, how you sat the same way in your chair, and you even made the same face when you’d taken a drink of Gambit’s whiskey as when you’d sip his occasionally while the two of you sat on the couch in the mansion watching some movie one of the others had put on.

It was you, just, one that apparently hadn’t fallen in love with Logan Howlett. Logan himself couldn’t help but wonder if that had been your reason for being sent here, but thought better of it, deciding he'd probably never have that kind of impact on any kind of world.

After a successful attack on Cassandra and her small army, Deadpool and Wolverine were gone, and you hadn’t expected to ever see them again. Then Cassandra almost destroyed every timeline to exist, and you’d thought for sure those two variants had gotten themselves killed.

But then the TVA came for you and brought you to said Deadpool variants world, which he had successfully and somehow saved with Wolverine’s help. You couldn’t help but notice Logan’s shirt missing this time around. Almost cursing yourself for not trying harder to go to Xavier’s school when you were younger, having a chance to meet your world’s Logan. A man’s abs can do that to a woman.

“Happy to not be in the void and all, but why am I here?”, you asked, eyeing the agents around you and taking in the cracked subway station.

“I thought I’d give a little gift to Wolvie here,” Deadpool replied in an overly enthusiastic manner, throwing an arm around Logan who instantly pushed him away.

“I’m not a gift to give you dumb fuck,” you replied, crossing your arms over your chest.

Deadpool ignored your obvious distain and continued, “Well I figured since he lost you in his world and you never falling in love in your world caused his death that you could stay here with us!”.

Your eyes widened and you had to think about what he’d said for a moment, “I-I got him killed? I got Logan and those other mutants killed?”.

Logan couldn’t focus on the other details once his name left your mouth; he hadn’t heard you say that in almost a decade.

You on the other hand turned to the woman beside you that looked to be in charge.

“Is that the reason I was sent there, because I didn’t fall in love with Logan Howlett and he died because of it?”, you asked, you felt like you could be sick.

The woman sighed, almost regretful, “Yes, it was,” she finally answered you. “Without your help of your mutation those mutants did not survive that attack on the school.”

“Oooooo, trauma plot twist,” Deadpool practically squealed.

“Shut the fuck up!”, you snapped back, making Deadpool whisper a bashful, “Sorry,” and take a step back.

The TVA agents left shortly after, and that was how you found yourself living in a small apartment with Wade, Logan, and the craziest old lady you’d ever met, Blind Al.

Wade and she shared a room as weird as it was, you were given the spare room Blind Al reluctantly let you use, as it was now formerly her grow room, and Logan elected to sleep on the couch.

You settled in somewhat nicely, you still felt awkward in a world that wasn’t yours living with a doofus that you'd grown somewhat fond of and a man you got killed in his other life, but you had new friends, ones that didn’t have a huge chance of dying every day so that was a plus.

Yukio and Ellie had gravitated towards you, you were somewhat close in age, with them being early twenties and you in your somewhat late twenties, they reminded you of your younger sibling’s friends from back home in your previous world.

So, when they invited you to go out a month after you settled in, you couldn’t say no, it would get you out of the house at least, you wouldn’t have to sit and listen to Wade and Logan argue or endure Logan’s kicked puppy look when he thought you weren’t looking.

You felt awful you weren’t the you he thought you were, and you knew it was nothing you could control but after Wade let it slip what had happened to you in Logan’s world you couldn’t imagine how you’d feel if the roles were reversed.

So, to hopefully be able to forget about everything for a few hours you got ready, doing some easy makeup and hair, you put on a cute outfit you’d bought earlier in the week, Yukio had begged you to go shopping after finding out you didn’t own anything for “going out” yet on this world.

You relented and picked out a skirt, top, tights, and boots, it was simple yet cute enough to not be mistaken as any old outfit.

When you’d exited your bedroom in your shared apartment shortly before Yukio and Ellie were due to come get you, Wade looked up from whatever the hell he was doing on his phone, which could be anything from porn to angry birds.

His eyes widened slightly, “Got a date?”, he asked, only slightly feigning shock.

Logan had looked up immediately at the mention of a date, he was sipping a bottle of whiskey at the kitchen table. His eyes traveled over your outfit when he thought you were busy glaring at Wade.

“Not that its your business merc but no, I’m going out with Yukio and Ellie,” you stated, tossing a lip balm you had in your hand to your small purse.

“Girls nightttt,” Wade sang, only making you sigh.

As if a divine intervention interrupted there was a knock on the door and when you opened it you found the two girls standing there waiting.

“Hi Wade!”, Yukio exclaimed waving at him.

Wade leaned back in his seat to look around you at Yukio, “Hi Yukio!”.

“Come on,” you told them, moving to leave but a hand on your shoulder made you turn around. It was Wade.

“Now honey,” he began, “don’t take drinks from strangers, don’t go off alone, and don’t hook up with anyone. You know what they say about beer goggles, you’ll be waking up next to the crypt keeper.”

While you rolled your eyes and pushed Wade’s hand off your shoulder although you knew he really did care. Logan on the other hand clenched his jaw. You weren’t his and he knew that, but Wade’s last comment set his teeth on edge.

“I’m a big girl Wade, but thanks,” you told him, turning around and leaving this time without so much as a glimpse Logan’s way.

When the door shut Wade spoke again, “She’s gonna get picked up by every hottie in the club in that outfit. Did you see her legs Peanut?”.

Wade then almost immediately flinched when he felt glass shatter on the back of his head, the alcohol in the now broken bottle staining the back of his My Little Pony shirt.

He didn’t even have to look back to imagine the look on Logan’s face, “Gotcha,” was all Wade replied, picking out a rather large glass shard from the back of his neck.

…

It was hours later when you were so drunk you couldn’t feel the cold outside, but you sure felt good on the inside. The only bad thing was that the other girls wanted to go to another club, and your social battery was just about gone.

You three stumbled out of the club, Yukio and you giggled at something Ellie had yelled at some perv leering at you when you’d walked out. Stopping the other two from turning the opposite way to another club, you spoke rather loudly despite being out of the crowd and loud music.

“I-I think I’m gonna go home! You girls go!” you told them, making Yukio frown.

“Don’t walk home by yourself, call Wade or something,” Ellie commented.

You nodded thoughtfully before gasping, “I’ll call Logan, Wade is doing butt stuff with Vanessa tonight!”.

Your loud comment sent Yukio into a giggling fit and made a guy near you wince, maybe he’d done butt stuff too.

Ellie only nodded, rolling her eyes as you pulled your phone from your purse, scrolling through the very few numbers you’d had, Wade had gotten both you and Logan phones soon after arriving, claiming he needed to be able to send you both funny videos every day. Which were no doubt ignored by Logan.

Pressing on Logan’s contact, you put the phone up to your ear, listening to it ring only once before the call was answered.

“You alright?”, was the first thing out of Logan’s mouth and you couldn’t help but laugh.

“Oh, I’m great!” you replied, “but Ellie doesn’t want me walking home alone and Wade is doing butt stuff so will you come? I’m only a few blocks from home.”

The whole sentence was sort of rushed and you thought maybe Logan hadn’t heard you correctly because the line went silent.

You were about to repeat yourself when Logan stopped you, “I’m coming,” he told you, you could hear him shuffling around and the sound of a door closing, “What’s the name?”.

Despite having been in the club for well over an hour you had to look up and squint at then brightly lit sign, “Uhhhh,” you mumbled into to the phone, before your eyes finally focused, “House of Yes!”.

You could’ve sworn Logan chuckled, “Be there soon,” was all he said before hanging up.

“Escort secured,” you told the two girls, slipping your phone back into your purse. “He’ll be here soon,” you added, attempting to replicate his gravely tone, only succeeding in making yourself cough and sending Yukio into a laughing fit.

It was only 15 minutes of standing around before Logan showed up, you spotted him first, having turned yourself that way to look for him. He was dressed in his usual jeans, button up, and undershirt, along with a leather jacket he’d picked up recently.

He looked good you had to admit, nearly every girl outside, and even some guys turned to look at him when he walked past. He didn’t give them any sort of acknowledgement though, earning some disappointed looks from a few of them when he walked up to you.

What was it Wade said about beer goggles? Logan was hot without alcohol though, so you shook off the thought.

“Ready to go?”, he asked, eyes scanning over you, not to be a perv but to make sure everything was the same as when you left, and it was, save for the way you swayed slightly and the way you smiled at him like you were so happy to see him. He thought he’d never see that again, but he has to remind himself for what felt like that hundredth time that it wasn’t you, not his you at least.

You nodded, turning around to hug both of the girls, telling them to be safe, although you knew Ellie wouldn’t put up with anyone’s shit.

“Bye Y/N! Bye Logan!”, Yukio exclaimed, waving at you both before grabbing Ellie’s hand as they turned the opposite way.

“Alright, come on,” Logan said, taking a step away from you and waiting for you to follow him to keep walking, he made sure to keep you closest to the buildings, it wouldn’t be too great to have you fall in the street in front of a car.

It was silent for a couple minutes, you stumbled every so often and Logan’s hand always shot out, ready to catch you, but you always righted yourself, giggling as you did, and Logan found himself smiling at the sound.

You caught him smiling after a couple times, narrowing your eyes, “What’re you smiling at grumpy?”, you asked, voice anything but angry.

“Grumpy?”, he asked, raising an eyebrow at you.

“Yeah, it’s what I call you sometimes in my head, Mr. Grumpy is also a good one,” you told him in a very serious tone.

“Mr. Grumpy,” Logan found himself repeating, only making you laugh, which made you stumble, nearly knocking into someone walking the opposite way of you both. Logan instinctively wrapped an arm around your shoulders, pulling you away from the almost collision and into his side.

You immediately noticed he was warm, you could feel it even with his multiple layers on, it was growing colder now outside as the days went on and you yourself knew without the alcohol, you’d probably be cold but here he was, a personal heater.

“Are you actually just a werewolf?” you asked him, making him stop walking completely and turn towards you, removing his arm from your shoulders, making you pout a bit.

“I am not a werewolf,” he told you seriously.

You groaned, “Okay but you’re really warm, you have claws, you can run on all fours, and you’ve got those little…,” you trailed off, putting your pointer fingers up on each side of your head, attempting to mimic the little swishes his hair made.

Personally, you had no idea if his hair just did that (because he’s a werewolf), or if he styled it that way. You couldn’t decide which option to like more.

When Logan didn’t seem to understand what you’d said, you reached up, lightly running a finger along one of the swoops of his hair. You jumped a bit when his hand caught your wrist as you were pulling your hand back.

There was a look in his eyes you didn’t recognize but it soon disappeared as he let you go, “Sorry,” he quickly said. “Reflex.”

You shrugged, “No harm done,” you told him, and his eyes softened at the way you brushed off his behavior from years of enduring nothing even remotely close to the gentle way you’d just touched him.

Maybe you didn’t think so badly of him. You always seemed so wary, afraid to make him angry, to say something wrong, like he was a ticking time bomb. It put him on edge and made him want to steer clear of you, he didn’t want to scare you off either.  But now, standing there staring at you while you just smiled at him made him relax a bit.

“Let’s go,” you suddenly said, beginning to walk away from him. He was back at your side in moments, and you found yourself bumping into him every so often, apologizing every time you did.

Finally, he wrapped an arm around you again, pulling you back into the warmth of his side. You smiled when he did, stumbling slightly but he held you up easily, not letting you fall.

“Thanks for coming to get me,” you told him when you were only a block from home.

“No problem,” he replied, keeping his eyes on the sidewalk ahead.

There were a few moments of silence before you began to giggle suddenly, Logan’s brow furrowed as he looked down at you, “What?” he asked, hopefully not regretting asking.

“So, you’re not a werewolf?” you asked, looking up at him.

Logan groaned looking away from you, “No, and if you keep asking, you’ll regret it.”

“Ooo what are you gonna do?” you mocked, poking his side.

“Wouldn’t you like to know sweetheart,” he replied, making you stumble at the nickname.

“I would,” you challenged, after righting yourself with the help of Logan’s arm around you.

Logan regarded you for a moment before shaking his head, “You’re drunk, another time.”

“Ughhhhh,” you groaned, “Tell me!”.

“Not a chance,” Logan replied, smirking a bit. He’d been drinking since you left and was buzzed himself, he couldn’t help but smile at your behavior.

The you he’d known had always acted like this, at least when intoxicated. You were whiny, clumsy, and clingy. The way your fingers gripped the back of his jacket to stay up right made his heart ache though and his smile fell.

You noticed his attitude change and became concerned, “You okay?” you asked, attempting to stop walking, but Logan kept you going.

“Fine” he replied, his hold on you loosening slightly, you couldn’t help but notice.

So, you stopped, much to Logan’s dismay, moving to stand in front of him, swaying slightly as you very determinedly looked him in the eye.

“What’s wrong, did I do something?” you asked, genuine concern in your voice, he could almost feel his heart crack just slightly.

“No, it’s…,” Logan began, his tongue getting tied, he was never great at emotions, that’s why he drank so much. You didn’t have to feel anything then.

“I’m listening,” you reassured, resisting the urge to take his hand.

“You’re so much like…like her, like you,” Logan finally said, not really meeting your eye. “I thought I could ignore it, but I can’t, you even smell the same.”

Logan had rendered you with nothing to say, could you truly comfort him? Reassure him? You felt yourself sobering up a bit at the thought.

It was a few moments of silence before you found your words, “I know this has been shitty for you too, and I'm sorry I haven't been a better friend. Honestly sometimes I think you hate the fact that I'm not her, me her, whatever...that you hate me. But then you do things like this and it makes me think otherwise. I guess I just don't know how to...approach you, Logan."

Logan felt his heart drop at the word “friend”, and the thought he made you feel inadequate. God he really was stupid enough to think he might have a chance with this version of you.

But he found himself lifting a hand to your cheek, feeling your skin heat up beneath his fingers, “I could never hate you, not in this universe, not in any, got it? Its my fault, for pushing that onto you, making you feel like you have to be someone you’re not.”

You couldn’t help but laugh slightly, “We’re both just fucked up in our own special way, aren’t we?”.

Logan nodded, dropping his hand, but you caught it in your own, “It’s not your fault either you know, I personally blame whatever bitchass overlord of the universe did this.”

Logan had to keep himself from solely focusing on the way your hand wrapped around his, “But…,” he went to argue.

You put up a hand to stop him, “Enough with the self-pity Howlett, its unbecoming of a man of your nature.”

“My nature?” Logan asked, titling his head at you.

“Yes, the nature of being absurdly attractive,” you admitted, looking away from him as you spoke, attempting to walk away, but he pulled you back, almost into his chest, but he kept you a few inches away, still concerned with scaring you.

“Absurdly?” Logan asked, the smirk returning to his face.

You swallowed hard, “Did I say that? I meant unappealing, completely unsightly.”

Your attempt at saving your future sober self from your drunk self was failing miserably, but Logan gave in after a few seconds, shrugging as he turned, placing his arm around you once more, guiding you towards the apartment building you could finally see in the distance.

“Whatever you say kid,” he told you.

This was the most at home you two had felt in a while, and when you sat next to each other at breakfast in the morning, Logan passing you whatever you needed when you’d asked, Wade gasped dramatically.

“Did you two also engage in butt stuff last night, or is that not your cup of whiskey Wolvie?” Wade asked.

This earned him a fork to the forehead, easily tossed across the table by Logan.

The way you laughed made Logan’s heart skip a beat instead of crack again. For the first time in quite a while he felt hope, and if being here with you meant putting up with Wade’s dumbass mouth, he could make an exception just this once.

A/N: Thank you so much for reading! I felt like Tumblr was seriously lacking in Logan fluff so here ya go!

[r-memberme]

if I had known | k.m

⎯⎯He chuckled darkly. “I prefer to think of myself as an unreliable narrator.”

warnings: non I think

"Klaus, be honest with me. How accurate is Beowulf?"

Across the room, Klaus barely lifted his eyes from his sketchbook, charcoal smudging the tips of his fingers as he shaded something unseen. "Darling, I was not in the mood to fight sea monsters during that particular century," he said, voice as smooth as ever.

She narrowed her eyes. "You're saying sea monsters did exist?"

A flicker of amusement crossed his face, but he simply turned the page of his sketchbook, dragging the charcoal in long, deliberate strokes. "I'm saying some stories are best left unconfirmed. Keeps the mystery alive, don’t you think?"

She groaned, flopping onto her back with a dramatic sigh, her worn-out anthology held loosely in one hand. "Fine. What about The Odyssey? Was Odysseus real? Did he actually outwit a Cyclops, or was that poetic exaggeration?"

Klaus set his charcoal aside, finally looking at her with something between exasperation and reluctant amusement. "If I had a coin for every fool who claimed to have 'discovered' Troy, I could buy the entire Greek coastline and still have enough left to bribe every historian in Europe to rewrite the tale in my favor."

She bolted upright, gripping her book as if it held the secrets of the universe. "Wait. Wait, wait, wait—so was Troy real? Was Homer real? Did you know Homer?"

Klaus let the question hang between them, the ghost of a smirk playing at the corner of his lips. He tilted his head, watching her unravel in real time, enjoying the weight of her curiosity pressing against him like a storm cloud ready to burst.

After a long, excruciating pause, he said, "Oh, sweetheart." He leaned forward, voice dipping into something maddeningly fond. "You’re adorable when you think I’m about to give you a straight answer."

She let out a frustrated noise and lobbed her book at him. Klaus, the ancient predator, the immortal hybrid, merely caught it midair with one hand, never breaking eye contact.

This was going to be a long night.

༊*·˚

She jabbed a finger at him, eyes gleaming with scandalized disbelief. “I refuse to believe you never met Shakespeare.”

Klaus barely spared her a glance, reclining into his chair like a man who had suffered one too many lifetimes of literary debates. “I refuse to discuss that insufferable playwright.”

Her jaw dropped. “You hate Shakespeare?” She clutched her book as if his words had personally offended the entire English language. “But why?”

Klaus exhaled sharply, tilting his head back as if pleading with the heavens for strength. “Because, love,” he drawled, “every time I so much as set foot in London, people mistook me for one of his tragic villains.” He gestured vaguely, as if swatting away the memory. “I was apparently the living embodiment of ‘sound and fury.’”

She gasped, dramatic, scandalized, delighted. “You’re Macbeth!”

Klaus groaned, dragging a hand down his face, pinching the bridge of his nose like a man on the verge of an existential crisis. “God, grant me patience.”

She ignored his suffering entirely, sitting up straighter, grinning now. “No, wait—this is incredible. You are a Shakespearean tragedy! The brooding antihero with a questionable moral compass, haunted by his past, doomed by his own nature—”

Klaus gave her a flat look. “I am not doomed.”

“Debatable,” she shot back, grinning. “And I bet he based a character on you. Oh my God, were you Iago?”

“I am not Iago,” he said, affronted.

“Edmund from King Lear?”

“Absolutely not.”

Her eyes widened. “Richard III?”

Klaus made a strangled sound, looking like he was deeply regretting every life choice that had led him to this conversation. “For the last time, no.”

She hummed, flipping lazily through her book. “You’re definitely a Hamlet.”

Klaus stood up. “I’m leaving.”

She grabbed his wrist before he could make a dramatic escape. “No, no, wait! Just tell me one thing. Did you meet him?”

He sighed, giving her a long, withering look.

“…Did he base a character on you?”

A slow smirk curled his lips, something secretive and smug. “Now, that is a question you’ll have to spend the rest of your life wondering about, love.”

And just to infuriate her further, he pressed a quick kiss to her forehead before vanishing from the room.

She stared after him, scowling, before promptly pulling out her laptop and searching for every villainous Shakespearean character with a suspiciously familiar personality.

It was going to be another long night.

༊*·˚

She set her book down with deliberate care, leveling him with the kind of suspicious look that meant she was about to interrogate him. “You were alive when The Great Gatsby was published. Tell me—did people actually throw parties like that?”

Klaus barely looked up from his glass of bourbon, swirling the amber liquid with practiced ease. He exhaled a quiet laugh, low and knowing. “Darling, those parties were nothing compared to the ones in the 1700s. Now those were proper celebrations—duels at dawn, masked balls that lasted days, fountains of champagne.” He smirked. “Men wagering their fortunes over a single hand of cards. Women sneaking off into candlelit gardens, whispering scandalous secrets between sips of absinthe.”

She sighed dreamily, chin resting in her hands. “I wish I could’ve seen it.”

His smirk deepened, voice dipping into something smooth, teasing. “If I had known, I would’ve saved you a dance.”

She groaned, grabbing the nearest pillow and launching it at him. “That was too smooth—but you’re still avoiding my question!”

Klaus caught the pillow midair, utterly unbothered, setting it neatly beside him like it hadn’t just been a weapon. “I’m merely expanding your perspective, love. You’re comparing a firecracker to a storm. The 1920s were lively, certainly—an era of indulgence, excess, and a great deal of creative drunkenness. But Gatsby? He was melodramatic.” Klaus took a slow sip of his drink before adding dryly, “And for what? A woman who wasn’t even worth the trouble.”

She gasped, clutching her book to her chest as if shielding it from blasphemy. “Excuse me?!”

Klaus arched a brow, completely unfazed by her horror. “I’m right, and you know it.”

“No, you’re not!” she protested. “Daisy was his dream! She was—”

“A selfish socialite with the emotional depth of a teaspoon,” Klaus interrupted smoothly, eyes gleaming with amusement. “And let’s be honest, love—if Gatsby had even a fraction of my cunning, he wouldn’t have spent all that time throwing hollow parties in the hopes of impressing a woman who barely looked past her own reflection.”

She pointed at him, scandalized. “You are the villain in every book!”

He chuckled darkly. “I prefer to think of myself as an unreliable narrator.”

She flopped back dramatically against the couch, groaning. “You are so lucky I love you, otherwise I’d throw this entire book at your head.”

Klaus hummed, utterly content, as he swirled his drink again. “That’s the thing about literature, sweetheart. Everyone is the hero of their own story. Until they aren’t.”

She eyed him, suspicious. “That sounded like something Fitzgerald himself would say.”

A slow, knowing smirk curled his lips. “Now, that is a question you’ll have to spend the rest of your life wondering about.”

And just to infuriate her further, he clinked his glass against her book like it was a toast and took another sip, smug as ever.

༊*·˚

She hesitated, watching him carefully, as if gauging whether her next question would earn a genuine answer or another one of his infuriating evasions. “So… what do you think of Pride and Prejudice?”

Klaus exhaled a long-suffering sigh, tilting his head back against the couch as though the weight of two centuries had suddenly settled upon his shoulders. “That insipid book has been haunting me for centuries.”

Her mouth fell open. “What?”

He waved a hand, as if dismissing some unseen specter of literary torment. “Do you have any idea how many women have compared me to Mr. Darcy over the years? It’s exhausting.”

That was it—she completely lost it, bursting into laughter so hard she had to clutch her stomach. "You? Mr. Darcy?"

Klaus shot her a flat look, unimpressed. “Yes, love. Apparently, brooding and being emotionally unavailable is endearing.”

She gasped between wheezes. “Wait—do they know you?”

“Clearly not well enough,” he muttered, swirling the drink in his hand. “Though I suppose I should be grateful they don’t go around comparing me to Heathcliff instead.”

“Oh, come on,” she teased. “You do have that whole ‘tortured soul, passionate devotion, morally ambiguous choices’ thing going on.”

He shot her a pointed look. “Darling, I have never buried anyone in the moors out of spite.”

She grinned. “That we know of.”

He huffed, shaking his head, but the corners of his mouth twitched in amusement.

She tapped a finger against her chin, pretending to think. “Still… you do have a certain Darcy quality about you.”

Klaus groaned. “Not you too.”

“Well…” She shrugged, all innocence. “I do love a good brooding anti-hero.”

Faster than she could react, Klaus reached for her, pulling her effortlessly into his lap. His voice dipped low, teasing. “Careful, sweetheart. You may just tempt me into living up to the comparison.”

She smirked, tilting her head. “Oh no, anything but that.”

His lips found hers, warm and insistent, though his grin never quite faded. When he pulled away, he rested his forehead against hers, eyes gleaming with mischief. “I knew you only loved me for my library.”

She sighed dramatically, draping herself over him as though she were utterly besotted. “It’s true. The first time I saw all those first editions, I knew I had to keep you.”

Klaus chuckled, pressing a slow, lingering kiss to the corner of her mouth. “Well, darling, as long as you keep asking me ridiculous questions, I suppose I have no choice but to stay.”

And somehow, she got the distinct feeling that even if she never asked another question again, he still would.

request from anon!🤍

taglist:

@ohapple

@myworldrightnow

@deactiveblogx

@witch-of-letters

@xtwistedchaosx

@liataylorsversion

@pardonmydelayyy

@siredbyklausm

[mirellapryce]

I found a bunch of snippets I wrote that I'm unlikely to put into any actual fics so now I'm going to share them here out of context.

“I finished one you know. Took a while, but I did it.”

“What’s this now?”

“I finished reading one of your dusty, Greek books. It was in English, but I read the thing cover to cover. Honest. It was pretty good actually. It reminded me of us in the end.”

Edwin was almost afraid what Greek tragedy Charles was comparing them to now, but he looked so proud for having finished it, so Edwin couldn’t help but ask, “Which one was that then?”

“The Odyssey.”

Admittedly that wasn’t what Edwin had expected, and as far as Greek epics went it wasn’t the easiest to get through.

“I guess they made a musical of it? Crystal was playing it for me, and the songs sounded pretty cool, so I thought I’d give the book a go. Gotta admit the musical was easier to follow. Words I never thought I’d say.”

“You said it reminded you of us in the end? I can see you as Odysseus. Strong, brave, and using his wits to beat his opponents in clever, unexpected ways. Who would I be?”

“Penelope.”

Ghosts couldn’t technically choke, but that didn’t stop the shock from causing Edwin to cough. Of course Charles was at his side in a second, patting his back as if that could help. “Sorry, sorry. I guess I should say we’re both Odysseus and Penelope. It’s like you said, right? Odysseus’s super clever and using his brain to get out of all kinds of problems. So, he’s like you. And Penelope is also wicked brilliant, tricking the suitors to get off her back. Odysseus was all determined to make it back to her no matter what, and she was willing to wait for him, even though she actually had no way of knowing he was alive. I think that’s both of us, innit? If we ever got separated, we’d fight our way back to each other however we had to, no matter how long it took.”

[likethexan]

kinda gets me emotional thinking that in The Odyssey Book IV the first regret Helen has mentioned was leaving her child. Her child, her fidelity, then her husband. Important things Aphrodite took from her for sure (or things she took from herself if you interpret willing Helen), but Hermione first.

Contrasting that to the Iliad ten years prior where her first regret is the destruction of her fidelity, in extension her husband— then her kinsmen (the soldiers who were robbed of seeing their families and thus blamed her) then her favorite full grown child, and lastly her friends. It makes you think of how lonely Helen must’ve been, how stigmatized she was…

It makes you think that in the Odyssey Helen has reclaimed the hearts of her friends and her kinsman, and obviously reconciled with Menelaus: and still Hermione is the first on her mind. The one relationship she cannot fix, not with time, not with her only daughter far away with Neoptolemus. Helen knows this now, the way the old her never thought to, and that’s the tragedy.

[charcubed]

I have soooooo much I want to write about Doctor Odyssey and if I keep waiting for the perfect moment to write something PROPERLY GOOD AND COMPREHENSIVE then I’m simply going to explode. So instead I’m going to write a messy little post on my phone when half asleep and try to keep it to one main topic.

Yeah yeah the throuple had a threesome (and I’m foaming at the mouth over it) but can we talk about the THEMES!!!!

This show is for crazy people (me specifically). Once again, I have a lot to say, but for now let me just focus on the wedding episode itself. That threesome is informed by the context of the rest of the episode in a way I simply CANNOT get over.

Let’s look at our passengers: the bride, groom, and best man. We find out all of them are being unfaithful to each other in various ways, miserable in their silence and unhealthy relationship dynamics. They all went to school together and were once close, but things went wrong somewhere along the way. The best man’s speech implies he has feelings for the groom, the groom is a sex addict who’s had multiple partners (possibly the best man included) because he feels trapped in a lie, and the bride and best man are having sex with each other. And none of them are communicating about it, and the groom who had preexisting mental health struggles commits suicide.

What happens to the three of them is a tragedy and it is absolutely a result of heteronormative monogamous culture. That culture was passed down from the bride’s mother to her too by example and societal influence.

I’m not exaggerating. It’s not subtle!!! At all!!! Everything explodes for those passengers because monogamy and repressing bisexuality wasn’t working for them.

They’re a dark mirror and cautionary tale. (Bonus points for how Avery’s sad backstory is that she was betrayed by her longtime friend / brief husband who cheated on her with a mutual friend as well, which is why she’s definitely hesitant about love now.)

By comparison, Avery and Max and Tristan have been avoiding some similar big pitfalls: they know they’re into each other and it’s not a secret, rivalries keep being squashed with effort, and no one is pressuring anyone to choose (so far).

This is what our beloved main characters have on their minds before what follows. And again, let’s not even get to the sex part yet… THE BUCKET LISTS!!! I’m losing my Goddamn marbles!!! The way all 3 of their lists intersect? Holy shit. Off the top of my head: Max and Tristan want to fall in love and have kids, Avery and Max want to see the world, Tristan and Avery have niche interests outside of medicine that they want to explore more… We were given itemized lists to show how the 3 of them balance and round each other out perfectly.

It’s not about any 2 of them because it won’t work with just any 2. It’s ALL THREE — just like all the framing and blocking of shots is consistently all 3, they walked down the wedding aisle all 3 together, the first sex scene for any of them that WE as the audience see on screen is all 3 of them together, a “bad threesome” is defined as 2 people getting too wrapped up in each other and the 3rd being an accidental outsider, we often see that if one duo gets a couple-y moment then the other duos get similar moments later as well, etc etc. Sorry. Let me not continue the summary list here and now so I don’t get too sidetracked but there’s A LOT.

But like, my current point? That wedding episode is a goldmine and the threesome explicitly happening doesn’t exist in a vacuum. Far from it. The themes are themeing in the whole show, of course, which is part of what I want to write about elsewhere at some point too: this show is repeatedly very deliberate about making sure heterosexuality or monogamy aren’t framed as the default or only correct options, and queerness is sprinkled everywhere. But this wedding episode specifically… the themes were nearly the ONLY PLOT. Nothing else — it’s basically only that, and it’s very focused. The failures of monogamy are on full display. And that’s why and how we get an explicit threesome right after it, which will lead us into how things will continue to develop for our trio.

Now, as for why the threesome happens so relatively quickly? My hot take on that is that general audiences can be stupid and so the creators wanted to put the throuple explicitly on screen fairly early to get people to start Noticing. Show them how the characters need to be together… and that sets us up for the possible angst and tension to follow as they have to accept it emotionally for themselves too. Now, as an audience member, you’ll more strongly know what to root for. You’ll know what’s right because you’ve seen it and you’ll want them to get back to that place, come what may. (If you’re not a puritan.)

It’s so fucking good. Insane silly show for insane people. Are we seeing the vision??? I need everyone to lock in.

This ramble is probably a disaster and I apologize for that but ohhhh man I had to put SOME words down so I wouldn’t explode. Suffice it to say I’m having a ball up in this bitch and I cannot believe this show exists. I couldn’t believe my eyes and my brain cells in the pilot, and I REALLY can’t believe them now.

What a time to be alive!!!!!! Polycule “love fest” on a cruise ship, baby!!! The world needs more love, all kinds of love, as the Captain says!!!! Onward to gay week!!!! LET’S SEE THOSE BI MEN KISS

[licorice-and-rum]

Do you know what breaks my heart?

Knowing that Odysseus probably still feels so guilty he can barely breathe, he's just suppressing it and filling the void with Penelope.

That's why she's finally showing up more plainly in this second part because Odysseus needs to believe that something will be worth all the guilt and all the suffering and that something is Penelope.

That's why she sings that she "will take the suffering" from him, because that's his hope, that's what he needs to believe because otherwise, it was all in vain.

And you know what's even worse?

Even if he does reach Ithaca, and even if he does have his "happy ending" (which I have no idea if it'll happen because I never read The Odyssey but I know enough about Greek Mythology and tragedies that I don't think so), it'll not be happy.

It'll be so bittersweet it makes my heart ache in ways I can't even bear.

I imagine Odysseus will never be able to swim with Telemachus and Penelope again, even if it's just a river, because he'd not know to differentiate between siren Penelope and real Penelope then.

I imagine he will never be able to look at his sister the same knowing that he caused her husband's death and so will she.

I imagine he will have to face his other men, who will know (or so Odysseus will think) that he sacrificed several of them to be there again.

I imagine he will have to discover all over again how to be a father to teenager Telemachus who doesn't even remember what is like to have a father, let alone see Odysseus as one.

I imagine if he will ever sleep in peace again, fearing that the gods will find him there once and for all.

I'm not crying, you are!

[demonic0angel]

When the bats finally met Pup, they instantly get kicked out of the room. Dani roped Jason into helping her revise her final collage essay thats do by the end of the week. She's stressed to tears. She thought she was almost done. Then Jason witled her 8 page rough draft down to 2 pages, and she needed 10 pages to turn it in. Jason’s not trying to make the assignment harder for her, but, like her template, Dani is bad at literature arts.

(Adjusted this ask a lil)

“Hood!” Pup said, perking up like her name’s sake when she saw him. “I need your help!” She was completely surrounded by Red Hood’s siblings, who sighed as he approached. For a moment, he despaired over the fact that his siblings all knew where his base was located, because now they kept coming to bother them all and suck up to Pup.

Still, he quickened his pace to hurry over to Pup and help.

“I can help you!”

“No, I can!”

“Whatever you need, I can—”

Red Hood tried not to laugh as Pup shoved away his noisy siblings and dragged him to the door. He was unceremoniously pushed into Wolf’s office before Pup slammed the door shut with a groan. There was still the sound of yelling and complaining through the door, but they were wise enough to disperse quickly.

“Why are they so obsessed with me?” Pup whined. She walked over to the desk set up next to Wolf’s and sat down with a huff.

Red Hood noticed Wolf sprawled over the couch, her jacket and elbow protectors taken off and draped over her. Red Hood took off his own jacket and dropped it over Wolf’s prone figure. She made a muffled noise through the helmet, which was probably incredibly uncomfortable, but didn’t move to take it off, instead just turning around to curl up underneath his jacket.

Red Hood tore his eyes away from her and looked at Pup, who was extremely unimpressed, judging by her posture.

“Anyways,” Pup drawled before she remembered that she needed help and she hurriedly said, “I need your help, Hood.”

“Sure,” Red Hood said, walking over to her. “What’s up?”

“I have an essay about Antigone and I have to compare it to another classic. It’s due by the end of the week and I only have 2 pages written. I can’t figure out what to compare it to or how to lengthen my essay.” She wrung her hands at the end of her explanation.

“Did you read the book or any of its translations?” Red Hood asked.

Pup nodded, “I read the original. I can understand Ancient Greek, y’know.”

Red Hood blinked. Then he shook his head to himself. Of course. How could he forget that Wolf and her siblings were all weirdly Robin-like in their eclectic experiences and skill set? “Alright. How about Romeo and Juliet to compare?”

Pup sighed. “Everyone else is choosing that. I want to be different.”

Red Hood grinned. He knocked his knuckles lightly against Pup’s helmet to show his fondness and laughed. “Good! You gotta show them who’s boss!” He paused and then thought about ideas.

Pup tapped uselessly on her computer, also thinking of another book to compare it to.

Red Hood finally said, “The story of Antigone has themes of sacrifice, love, and duty, as well as respect to the natural order. The main argument of Antigone is that natural law and fate triumphs over man and human actions. If you want to use another classic to compare it to, I would probably suggest the Odyssey, which also tells a story about how higher powers can affect the will and lives of mankind.”

Pup paused. Red Hood nodded absently to himself and continued, “For a modern story, I’d say anything with themes of free will and the illusion of choice with a lot of tragedy can suffice. Maybe Macbeth? To lengthen your essay, how about using your translation of the original Greek story to compare it to other translations and how that can also change the meaning when it relates to other classics or stories? Maybe you can tie it back to how the meanings of certain things can be interpreted wrongly, like how prophecies in mythology can get misinterpreted and then causes disaster with something about free will and inhuman forces again? Or just use your word count to describe moments in the story. It’s what I did when I was lazy and I got As for it. Just make sure you tie it back to your thesis.”

Pup stared at him. Red Hood stared back. Had he said too much or something?

Then Pup leapt forward to give him a fierce hug. “Thank you, thank you, thank you! You’re the best! I know what to do now!”

Red Hood felt his face flush and he patted her back awkwardly. He looked over her head (which wasn’t difficult to do because she was short), and saw Wolf stir and sit up slightly, leaning against the arm of the couch to blow him a small, sleepy kiss of gratitude for helping her sister.

His face turned even hotter.

Damn them both. He was turning soft.

[junkdrawerfan]

I haven’t read the odyssey in a long time but from what I remember Epic!Odysseus is far more tragic than the original. By the end, Odysseus is a monster and a far cry from the man who struggled over killing a baby. Poseidon wins. He is ruthlessness. His mercy “drowned.” He has no guilt over the slaughter of 108 young men and is exactly like the Cyclopes he spared all those years ago.

And so little of it is his own fault.

In fact, you could argue that Epic!Odysseus’s hero flaw is his mercy, unlike the OG!Odysseus’s flaw of arrogance and pride.

He should have killed the cyclops. He should have killed his men to keep the wind bag closed. He should have left his men behind at Circe’s since they’ll betray him anyway. He was right to sacrifice six to Scylla. He was right to chose himself over his men. He was right to fight Poseidon. He was right to kill the suitors who threatened the fate of his family.

It’s a tragedy because we watch a good man lose his humanity to survive and ultimately be rewarded for it.

How much kinder would the world have been to EPIC!Odysseus if he’d just been cruel first?

Which is why I’m glad we don’t get the reconciliation between Athena and Odysseus in EPIC like we do in the Odyssey. Athena became more human as Odysseus lost his humanity. They are no longer able to walk together to a better tomorrow because Odysseus can no longer picture a kinder world.

I can easily picture the retuned King of Ithaca a hard and punishing ruler. His orders must be taken without question unlike before where he allowed discussion — before the betrayal of Eurylochus. He does not tolerate rumors. Punishments are swift. He will not allow others to try and trick him with their words. He’s a liar and a trickster and a thief and a murderer and stronger for it.

I still believe Ithaca will flourish under his rule. The power hungry are crushed. The King of Ithaca will trust no one except his wife and son.

I can also see Odysseus and Telemachus clashing often. Telemachus grows into the man Odysseus was. He is allowed to stay youthful and gentle under the tutelage of a kinder Athena and has always strove to craft himself to be like the man in his mother’s stories. Maybe over time, he’ll learn to be harder from the father who returned but never as cruel. The world simply hasn’t made him abandon his mercy.

[malusokay]

Hi, Malu!! Could you recommend some books for getting into greek mythology?? Thnxx lov u <3

hii love you too!! I think I've got a pretty good lineup for you, mind you, I don't read much modern stuff, and I'm not well-versed when it comes to modern retellings, so this list consists mainly of classics

1. “The Iliad” and “The Odyssey” by Homer

these are foundational texts for understanding Greek mythology and culture. deeply human, capturing the struggles of gods and mortals alike. try translations by Robert Fagles or Richmond Lattimore for a balance of poetic beauty and readability.

2. “Theogony” by Hesiod

this is essentially the origin story of the Greek gods—where they came from, their power struggles, and how they shaped the cosmos. a must-read if you want to understand the structure of the mythological world.

3. “The Library of Greek Mythology” by Apollodorus

a concise, encyclopedic compilation of myths, perfect for getting a broad overview of the major stories and characters. it’s like having a handbook for all the drama.

4. Plays by Euripides, Sophocles, and Aeschylus

if you want to see the myths in action, Greek tragedies are essential. start with Euripides’ Medea or Sophocles’ Oedipus Rex for raw, emotional storytelling.

5. “Metamorphoses” by Ovid

though Roman, Ovid’s poetic retellings of Greek myths are stunning and heavily influenced later interpretations of these stories. his version of the myths adds layers of beauty, tragedy, and transformation.

6. “Bulfinch’s Mythology” by Thomas Bulfinch

a beautifully written 19th-century retelling of Greek myths that feels classic but remains accessible.

I think these are good cornerstones—no fluff, just timeless stories steeped in ancient drama and grandeur. you might need some time to get used to the writing or really understand the whole lore, but take it slowly because it's definitely worth it!! <3