#in fairness it is pure evil...

[my-thoughts-and-junk]

rewatching the fool's gold campaign for the first time in a while and god abby makes me mad. grrrrr she makes me so mad (love her)

[telltaletypist]

look all i'm saying is if you've ever seen someone be healed with magic, congratulations! you've witnessed a practitioner of necromancy. it's the exact same thing. all you're doing at a fundamental level is using magic to accelerate existing biological processes and animate tissue, the only difference is when you do it to dead tissue instead of living tissue, suddenly it's evil scary ~dark magic~ instead of good wholesome healing. it's purely cultural bias.

so no i don't think it's fair to say i "lied on my application" since i'm just as qualified as anyone to heal your party, but hey if you want to be a fucking narc and report me to the wizard council go right ahead. good luck finding an accredited healer at the wages you're offering by the way

[justag0at]

Okay! So! The only real thing I can provide on NoFirstName "King" NoMiddleName NoLastName is a vague rant on how well he was written.

So, the King has basically 3 scenes , right? The normal prebattle gloating and mid-battle asking, and Kingquest's first and last talks. Despite this, Mr. King manages to somehow have a full three-dimensional character and a narrative arc! This is an insane feat, in my humble opinion, especially since King is a side character in a time loop story!

For the first scene ( more of a group, but whatev') we learn that King:

0: Is emotionally unstable. Flipping between sobbing your eyes out and delivering death threats is generally not indicative of good mental health

1: Is freezing Vaugarde in time as a way to "save" it, by preserving it in it's current state

2: Is suspiciously similar to Siffrin. Star motifs, white (or darkless) hair, similar language, and the whole "Bright One" thing.

This also sets up the beginning of Kingquest by setting up that central mystery: Who is King, and Why are they freezing Vaugarde in time (beyond surface level reason.) So the player/Siffrin is hooked, and in Act 3 starts pursuing these questions. We learn that Sif & King are from the Island North Of Vaugarde, and Siffrin uses that common knowledge to try and get more info from King. Enter the "Say It" Scene. If you need a refresher, that's the one where King and Sif die trying to say the Island's name. What we learn from this is:

0: The King is doing this in order to stop what happened to the Island happening to Vaugarde

1: The King fully believes that what can be done to the Island can be reversed, and is a massive fanatic about it

2: The King is fully ready to kill Siffrin, one of his few remaining countrymen, if you don't go along with his plans

With these revelations, King goes from 1 dimensional unstable adult to 2.5 dimensional unstable adult with *Plans!* You also start feeling a sense of empathy. Yeah, this sucks, why shouldn't the King be sad about this, but isn't there a better way? Maybe you can reason with him? What if THAT'S what you need to do to get out of this timeloop.

Enter one of, if not the best scene in the game. Siffrin asks the King to stop fighting, explaining that freezing all of Vaugarde in time is bad for people, actually. The King stands down, and soon your family does as well. He asks you to stand by him.

And then he grabs Bonnie. And Kills them.

If your like me (gullible) you fell for King's whole shtick hook, line, and sinker. This is the moment that King reveals his true motivations and colors, where he destroys all empathy you have and replaces it with utter disgust. Honestly, this scene, and the quest as a whole is so great because it recontextualizes his hole character. He goes from a flat character to a conniving, ruthless, bastard so desperate for a long-dead past he's willing to kill anyone in his wake, be they kin or kid.

And It's done in three scenes.

see we all love and cherish our frins and our loops but rarely do i see content about the king. how terribly ironic that he who desperately did not want to be forgotten is just... not as relevant. doomed by his own action, by the narrative, and by that which exists outside of it

i dont know. there should be more content about the king. and if it just so happens that there is and i simply havent found it then send it my way right now and win a fuckillion dollars

[snekdood]

his horrible snake-self that drinks tea EVILY and SELFISHLY and creates DASTARDLY plushies of his ocs with WICKED MAGIC IMBUED IN THEM TO HARM OTHERS and who draws HORRIBLE artwork of TERRIBLE forests that EAT ! PEOPLE ! ! because he HATES humanity so much and thinks we should ALL DIE ! so THATS why he draws it and NOTHING he makes is because he CARES about anything or HAS EMOTIONS or CRIES or FEELS WHOLESOME FEELINGS no it is ALWAYS because he is HORRIBAD vs my wholesome soft uwu self who drinks tea WHOLESOMELY and NON SELFISHLY and i creates WHOLESOME and CUTE plushies of my ocs with SWEET LOVING WHOLESOME MAGIC and I draw BEAUTIFUL artwork of WONDERFUL MAGICAL ENCHANTED WOODLANDS just cus . even though i demonize the woods in my next breath by acting like theres wicked beings in there that look much like the snake man himself and its because i'm WHOLESOME and SPECIAL and INNOCENT and i NEVER DO WRONG EVER and when I want to spite someone is ALWAYS MORALLY JUSTIFIED and when I hate someone and draw art of me killing them its because IM A GOOD PERSON WHO CARES ABOUT OTHER PEOPLE AND IM WHOLESOME SEE I KNITTED A SCARF LOOK AT ME IM SO MUCH BETTER AND NICER LOOK AT ME! LOOK AT ME!! PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE!!!! LOOK AT MY GOOD PURE GOOD-PERSON TEA THAT I MADE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE-

[yeleltaan]

What type of villain are you?

For main Cayin: Pure Evil.

You are unapologetically evil, you are likely just here for the drama and the theater of it all. You are selfish and cruel because you want to be, not because you had no other choice, but because you revel in the opportunity to do what is wrong. That's not to say you will commit every unspeakable act, perhaps you have standards and your own moral code, but by no means are you the good guy in your own mind. Those who have wronged you, no matter how trivial or petty the slight against you, will be treated without mercy and you will be cackling the entire time without a hint of remorse. You enjoy the most painful and twisted approach to getting your revenge. Above all else, you like to cause problems on purpose.

for ER verse Cayin: No Moral Compass

You are cold, analytical, and you strive to be as objective as a person of flesh and blood can be. Either don't understand the concepts of good and evil, or you understand it perfectly and think it's a load of bull. Some may call you selfish, some may call you unfeeling, but you're just doing what you believe will yield the best results, plain and simple. Why bother with petty ideals of right or wrong when you can do what will actively help those you give a fuck about? Your goals may be selfish or noble or anything in between, but you will not let anyone make you feel like garbage for going after them. You couldn't care less about what people brand you as. You just care about getting shit done by any means necessary.

Tagged by: @derjaegermond (thanks again!) Tagging: -points at reader-

[comicaurora]

Do you think ethics are just an attempt at being a healthier form of selfish?

In one of your Detail Diatribes where Batman confronts Catwoman and tries to stop her from killing Falcone, you highlighted the fact that his reasoning was not to protect her father, but to try and save her. Ever since, some very strange ideas about the nature of selfishness and selflessness have been rattling around my head.

It only started coming into focus when I tried to put into words why it was a bad thing that D-16 killed Sentinel Prime. My best answer right now is because it made D-16 into Megatron. Orion wasn't trying to save Sentinel, he was trying to protect the cybertronian people. Maybe if Orion focused more on saving D-16, they wouldn't have lost their friendship and all of Cybertron would be better for it. Of course, in the end, Megatron was the deciding factor in making himself, caring more about his pride than his current identity, but this highlights a strange selfish quirk in sustainable selfless behavior.

If you are purely selfless you suffer from spending more of yourself than you have to give. If you're too selfish you can't maintain the human connections that are a requirement for being a complete and healthy person. It leaves the best options as being selfless to make your environment an easier one for you to live in. Where your actions for others are repaid by the selflessness from your community. Or, being selfish with your charity. Taking care of what you care about because their well being positively contributes to your own.

To be fair, the opening sentence now looks like an incomplete thought. It probably should be asking if you think ethics is just an attempt at being a more healthy form of selfish and selfless. Really, just asking if ethics is meant to make you better at being a person, which seems like a question that can answer itself. Still, it feels like an important insight to highlight that to be ethical isn’t about how much of your own life you're willing to sacrifice. It's hard to be a good person when you're not a person anymore.

This is a fascinatingly deep question, and I'm very tickled that our two touchpoints in it are a transforming robot tank and Batman.

My personal opinion is that ethics and morals are not reflections of some universal truth of Justice and Goodness, as they are often framed, but are instead best-practice guidelines on how to function in the big, messy world without causing undue suffering to yourself and others. A facet of this is determining, case by case, how much you need to prioritize yourself vs how much you can afford to help others - in the framing you've proposed, selfishness vs selflessness.

Taking the specific examples we're focusing on - two cases where someone attempts to prevent a revenge killing for the benefit, not of the victim, but of the avenger - I think they reflect this worldview, that the killing is not seen as some innately universally-judged evil act that must be prevented for its own sake, but that the act of killing will harm the killer in a way the person trying to stop them doesn't want to see.

For Catwoman, committing premeditated murder wouldn't solve any of her problems in any way that arresting Falcone and having him legally unraveled would. It'd just park a first degree murder charge on someone who'd up til this point only dealt with petty larceny, and it would potentially weigh her down with misery and regret as she grappled with the trauma of taking a life.

For Megatron, killing Sentinel Prime wasn't a bad action because he deserved to live. They just spent that whole fight scene tearing through enemies. They're warriors on track to spend the next four million years killing each other; the whole "taking a life" ship has already sailed. The problem is that Sentinel is a symbol and a structural part of the political narrative in the founding of the next stage of Cybertron's society. If the first thing the new regime does is bloodily avenge itself on the face of the old regime for the personal wrongs it did them, that proves that the only thing they care about is personal satisfaction of their individual desires - just like Sentinel. Meet the new boss, same as the old boss. If they can instead take a step back, think of the good of Cybertron as a whole, enforce a rule of law and a fair system of justice that applies equally to everyone, even on someone they personally loathe, that would signify integrity and credibility and the hallmark of wise, just and fair leadership capable of setting aside personal feelings for the greater good. It's not about Sentinel; it's about whether the satisfaction of killing him is worth the price of enforcing forever that personal vendettas are more important than the well-being of the people of Cybertron. Which makes it really obvious which one Megatron is going to pick.

My hottest take, and I mean this very genuinely, is that most of the human perception of what constitutes goodness and justice is one thousand percent based on vibes, and is extremely susceptible to narrative reframing. We see an unsympathetic victim (Sentinel Prime, Falcone) who has gleefully caused suffering to innocent people (so judged because they are framed sympathetically, not because we've actually enumerated their lifelong actions to determine they've never done anything wrong) and we feel (feel) that it would be right and just for them to suffer consequences (emphasis on suffer) because that would balance the scales on this vibes equation and that would make us feel like justice had been served. Would this suffering lead to any material good? Not inherently. Would it heal the victims? Not usually. Would it remove the source of the problem? Categorically not, what with how negative reinforcement works (or rather does not work.) It also wouldn't do anything about the other people empowered by the same system to be just as shitty in just as many ways that just happen to be offscreen from our POV. But it feels fair. So what is justice, if it reduces down to "I want them to hurt for the hurt they've caused me"? If it can be sated with a spectacle or distracted by a long nap and a good joke to let the feeling fade? What purpose does this justice serve if it is devoted wholly to the satiation of a bone-deep chordate-brain hunger for Retributive Violence rather than towards actually ensuring that the lives of those harmed are healed and supported and built up again after being broken down? (This is the entire core character arc in The Batman, btw, I'm not just monologuing for no reason here. He calls himself Vengeance for a reason, and the reason is he's doing Batman wrong)

That feeling - that white-hot burning core of Righteous Fury - is the unexamined heart of many systems of morality that focus, not on doing good, but on exacting satisfying retribution on Bad People Who Deserve It, categorized as People Who I Can Hurt Without Feeling Bad Myself. It's a very tempting concept for people who have suffered at others' hands. That feeling, that powerful instinctual understanding of "that's unfair," is incredibly strong. In my opinion, most systems of ethics are built, not around relitigating what is Good and what is Bad per se, but in trying to shape and curb that bone-deep, unbelievably powerful desire to rend the flesh from the bones of your tormenters.

But I mentioned that feeling is susceptible to narrative reframing. This is, as I understand it, a huge part of lawyering. Tell the story of what happened using true events and adding no falsehoods, but highlight the parts that make it feel like your client is the one who is being treated unfairly. They're not an unsympathetic wrongdoer who you can punish without personal moral stain - they're a loving spouse, a parent of three adorable children, they have a really cute puppy, they donate to charity, they're a wonderful conversationalist, a kind friend, etc etc. All those things can also be true of people who do terrible things, but thinking about them defuses that White Hot Core by making us sympathize with the sympathetic parts of them.

This is incredibly well-understood in fiction. It's the whole reason the tropes Kick The Dog and Pet The Dog exist. When you want the audience to root for a character's destruction, leave aside any of their potential quiet moments of sympathy - their tragic backstory, their cute pet, their adorable relationship with their mom - and instead show them going out of their way to commit some minor act of petty cruelty, say Kicking The Dog. The audience will infer that this badness is 24/7 and they have no reason to curb their enthusiasm for Righteous Vengeance. But if the writer wants the audience to see a spark of good in them, to sympathize, to believe they can be redeemed, they'll highlight one of those small moments of charming kindness, and allow them to Pet The Dog instead.

Neither of these acts, in the grand scale, have any bearing on the morality of this person's actions. A pet dog doesn't counterbalance a razed village; a kicked dog doesn't negate a generous contribution to the local soup kitchen. Goodness and badness is not a linear scale added or subtracted to by opposing deeds. BUT showing them to an audience reframes them narratively, and THAT is what shapes the judgment of the White Hot Burning Core. In the space of fiction, this form of bottom-shelf emotional manipulation is one of the cleanest ways to get the audience to root for the messy destruction of what is ostensibly, in the universe of the fiction, a wholly complex and living person who definitely has reasons for everything they've done, even ones that could be framed sympathetically when shown.

Meanwhile, in the real world, ethics are an attempt to judge what is best in a given situation without trusting the White Hot Burning Core to make the call, no matter how compelling "but it would feel really good though" might seem. They try to give someone perspective, context, other priorities to consider. The White Hot Burning Core might want you to rip someone's arms off for driving slow when you've got important places to be, but Ethics can present a number of compelling reasons not to do that - even if it's just "ripping their arms off will definitely make me even more late." And yes, this can be a balance of Selfishness Vs Selflessness. You are one of the people whose wellbeing ethics is designed to make you prioritize improving even if it feels weird, and when all other things are equal, your own health and happiness can be the deciding factor. In a world with an overarching Moral Force that weighs the goodness of your soul by sifting through every grain of action and intent seeking negativity to punish you for, absolute selflessness to the point of self destruction would still probably be seen as Morally Wrong, simply because the universe is a better place with you in it trying your best.

Anyway, if doing the right thing was simple, easy and painless, we probably wouldn't have so many thousands of years of arguing about what it looks like. Good luck out there everybody 👍

[zeroseuniverse]

SEVENTEEN Reaction: You Accidentally Insult Them in Your Sleep

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S.Coups

At first, he thinks he misheard you. But when you mutter, “Ugh, why is he always acting like a dad?”, he gasps dramatically. “EXCUSE ME?!” He’ll shake you awake, pouting. “I take care of you, and this is what I get?!” Even the next day, he’ll bring it up with a fake betrayal. “So, I’m too much of a dad, huh? Maybe I should stop buying you snacks.”

Jeonghan

This man is petty. You mumble, “Jeonghan is a menace… always scheming…” and he just smirks. “That’s right, and I’ll be even worse now.” The next morning, you find your blanket missing, your phone charger hidden, and Jeonghan sipping coffee like he’s done nothing wrong.

Joshua

When you mumble, “Joshua’s too nice… it’s suspicious,” he just blinks in confusion. “…Excuse me?” He spends the rest of the night lying awake, overthinking his entire personality. The next morning, he’s a little sassy. “So, being nice is a crime now? Guess I’ll start being evil.”

Jun

You murmur, “Jun is so weird… but like, in a cute way.” He hears the ‘cute’ part and ignores everything else. The next morning, he’s clinging to you. “So, you think I’m cute even in your sleep, huh? You love me, don’t you?” No matter how much you deny it, he’s using this against you forever.

Hoshi

You mumble, “Why is he obsessed with tigers… it’s kinda weird…” and Hoshi GASPSSSS. He shakes you awake immediately. “TAKE IT BACK. TAKE IT BACK RIGHT NOW.” He’s genuinely distraught. “How could you? You love my tigers!” He’ll spend the next day dramatically hugging his tiger plushies for comfort.

Wonwoo

You mumble, “Wonwoo’s voice puts me to sleep…” and he just nods in agreement. “That’s fair.” The next day, he casually brings it up. “So… my voice is boring?” He doesn’t seem offended, but you just know he’s going to bring this up for months.

Woozi

You mumble, “Woozi’s scary when he’s angry…” and his eye twitches. The next morning, he stares at you while sipping his coffee. “Scary, huh?” He doesn’t say anything else, but the threat is there. If you tease him, he’ll just say, “I guess I’m too scary to help you reach the top shelf.” “YOU can’t even reach the top shelf”

DK

You mumble, “Seokmin laughs too much…” and he GENUINELY looks hurt. “Too much???” He spends the rest of the night trying to laugh quieter, but the next morning, he pouts at you. “So you don’t like my happiness? I thought you loved my sunshine…” He’s being dramatic, but he wants you to say you love his laugh.

Mingyu

You grumble, “Mingyu is so clumsy… so big, yet so useless.” He gasps so loudly he almost wakes you up. The next day, he’s sulking. “I AM NOT USELESS.” But when he trips over his own feet again, he just sighs. “…Okay, maybe a little.”

Minghao

You murmur, “Minghao is too cool… it’s kinda unfair.” He smirks immediately. The next day, he’s extra confident, wearing sunglasses indoors. “I can’t help it,” he says smugly. “It’s just who I am.” He’s never letting you live this down.

Seungkwan

You mumble, “Seungkwan is too loud… my ears…” and he gasps in pure offense. “HOW DARE YOU.” The next morning, he refuses to speak to you. “I guess I should just be quiet forever.” He’s waiting for you to beg him to talk again.

Vernon

You mumble, “Vernon is so random… is he even real?” He just blinks. “Fair point.” The next day, he randomly looks at you and goes, “So, do I exist or nah?” You’re never getting a serious answer from him again.

Dino

You grumble, “Chan is still a baby…” and he sits up in PURE OFFENSE. “BABY???” The next morning, he’s working out aggressively. “I’ll show you baby muscles.” He’s flexing all day, trying to prove he’s a man.

[theeroins]

If I say that I'm not used to people misinterpreting my favorite characters, I'd be lying. But the way they get so many things wrong about Inho's character is kinda pissing me off because you KNOW that most of them do it to cancel out the possibility of InHun being *something* more than what's shown so far. You don't ship them, that's fair, frankly I don't care. Everyone's entitled to their own opinion UNTIL your opinion is wrong.

Let's talk about a couple of things I've seen being talked about on tiktok (🙄)

“Inho joined the games because ilnam said that it'd basically be more fun to play than to watch so he followed his example." loud incorrect buzzer ! Inho has joined the games before, and not only that, he's also a previous winner, so therefore he's very much aware of what it's like to be a part of it, he's experienced them first hand, just like he's experienced the atrocities of it. they've changed him for the worst and possibly caused him a huge trauma —they're the reason he's lost faith in humanity after all— so, why would he crave to relive it just for the thrill of it? i, personally doubt he even enjoys watching the game.

“Inho didn't look at Gihun with love, he likes to watch him suffer” Short answer is no. He doesn't like to watch him suffer, neither he looked at him with love, not the pure kind of love at least. Two things can be true at once. Inho spent half the season staring at Gihun because everything about the man intrigued him; His determination, his stubbornness, his kindness, his hope, his heart that's full of love despite the pain he suffered, even the pain in his eyes every time someone got eliminated in front of him as if it was the first time it had happened, as if the cruelty of it all surprised him every damn time. How can someone, who's been through the same things Inho has been through, be the polar opposite of him?

now, the reason(s) that I think Inho actually joined the games for..

(yes I am an Inhun shipper, does that make my opinion a little biased? maybe. do i still believe I'm right? absofuckinglutely.)

Let me clarify this: Inho is NOT a good man, no matter the redemption arc he might get in s3, he'll continue to be a terrible person because nothing will ever erase the blood he's spilled and the evil men he's worked for. BUT at the same time, he's not ALL bad, not like the VIPS and ilnam. See, Inhun are the average "yin-yang" trope in fictional romance, (which I eat up every time and I find it very interesting when it's done the right way, don't get me wrong) Inho is bad but there's some goodness somewhere deep inside him. And the only person who's brought it to the surface is Gihun. Sure, he does think Gihun is naive, but he's also the only person who's actually challenged him, who's "forced" him to get his stupid head out of the dirt and look around him, even for a short while and Inho definitely liked what he saw. Honestly, it wasn't even that hard for Gihun to do so because the goodness in Inho wanted and waited for someone to pull him out of the dirt, he wished for someone, something to give him hope for humanity or.. anything. Anything that'll help him escape from his misery.

You can definitely argue that he joined the games to befriend Gihun, to gain his trust and stop his plans when the time comes, which is half true. But keep in mind that he needed to justify his choice to join the games. He's not a VIP nor the mastermind to simply get to do that without consequences. He's the frontman, the one who controls and manages everything. He's needed for the games to work and go by smoothly and successfully without unnecessary losses and problems. Gihun would only cause problems, Inho knew that very well and yet he chose to put him in it once again. He recklessly made that choice, risking pretty much everything because of his inner conflict. A part of him wanted Gihun to prove himself to him, that there's indeed good that'll save the world and the rest of him wanted to prove to Gihun that everything he so strongly believes in is merely a fantasy.

Joining the games and befriending Gihun was the only way for Inho to see the real him, without the heroic mask he puts on every time he faces the frontman. I think he believed that someone as extraordinary as Gihun will either break in front of him and he will end up disappointed by the human kind once again, or Gihun will change everything about the way he thinks for the better. But the problem is that Inho hopes for both of those things at the same time.

And that was Inho's arc in season 2. His inner conflict and how it will affect him, the game and Gihun later on.

[steddieasitgoes]

Okay I’m halfway through The Dustin Experiment and here are some fun snippets you might consider using in fics/art:

- Dustin occasionally going with Steve and Robin to their after school Family Video shifts to hang out with them

- Steve lets the kids rent movies without actually running it through the system and Robin hates it because of the Karate Kid incident

- The jocks are genuinely afraid of Eddie

- Eddie and Dustin hit it off after Dustin fixes Eddie’s Walkman and later his amp

- Dustin and Suzie have radio dates twice a week and they even started their own book club

- Eddie made Dustin a mix tape full of metal songs “because man cannot live on Weird Al alone”

- Robin likes to launch paper footballs at Steve’s head while he’s restocking

- Claudia loves her son so much she doesn’t care that he continuously blows the power of the whole house

- Robin offers to mediate for Dustin and Lucas since they’re not talking

- Steve’s Saturdays are “booked weeks in advance”

- Dustin ask Eddie to drive him to Indy and says “Help me, Eddie-Wan Kenobi” ; Eddie is not amused

- Dustin learns Max moved to Forest Hills after he leaves Eddie’s house and spots her

- Robin DOES mediate between the boys and makes them do trust falls which she makes Steve help her demonstrate

- Steve is apparently afraid of a show called Turbo Teen

- Dustin (and all the boys) write to Will to the point where he knows what’s going on including hellfire and Lucas’s basketball try outs

- Will even sends Dustin a sketch title card for his science fair poster

- Eddie is afraid of ducks because they’re “pure evil” and “have eyes that can look into your soul and do irreparable psychic damage”

- Dustin’s dad cheated on Claudia and when they divorced they moved back to Hawkins

- Eddie gives Dustin a pep talk when he’s nervous about the science fair and tells him it’s okay to be nervous and that he still gets nervous before gigs

- Eddie told an entire group of science fair kids a scary story

[whereserpentswalk]

Fae do not have a concept of good and evil. But they do have a concept of fair and unfair. They are creatures of politeness and impolitness. Even when they're doing things that would be horrifying to humans, they do these things with a specific set of rules around them.

Most of their weaknesses are only weaknesses because they see them as making things fair. Fae are physically capable of lying, but they consider it cheating to lie to someone who isn't familiar with the fae. Likewise, fae can create unbreakable curses or unsolvable puzzles, but it's considered improper to do so. Even their material weakness works this way, if a fae is cut by an iron sword they'll but hurt by it because it was the polite thing to do.

They'll also always match the power level of any human who wanders into the fae realms, so the human in question never meets a challenge they can't overcome. When a knight of the Holy Roman Empire and his men tried to conquer part of the fae realms in 1126 the fae fought like medieval soldiers, using tactics and strategies that would be clever and strange but understandable to him and his men, the numbers of warriors never being too much for him to defeat, even when he could. And when the D.T.L paranormal containment organization sent in modern soldiers with firearms and gas masks to assassinate the fae Queen of Winter Dawn in 2004, the fae responded accordingly, with ranged weapons, and hit and run tactics, that a modern commander could play off of. And, in 1873, when three children got lost in the fae realms, deeper then any human who had been lost there before or after, the fae filled their path of peril with puzzles and traps that the children could solve. One of the children ended up having her eyes turned into spiders, and all of them were traumatized, but it's the fairness the counts to the fae. When you're billions of years old you just care about different things.

And of course. There are some fae that break the rules, fae who will truly do everything in their power to affect the world. These fae are useally exiled from the fae realms, to far off and desolate planes, where they wander and seek power. They are truly terrifying creatures, though in the places they are sent they can rarely use their power. Few who encounter them who aren't their loyal servents escape with both their lives and their humanity.

And of course, fae politeness isn't universal. It applies to humans, and to other fae, and to some other entities. But when there's a true threat to the existence of the fae they will use everything in their power to stop it, polite or impolite. When the star spawn and the great old ones attempted their invasion of the fae in 700MYA they were very promptly destroyed, and pushed back using horrors humanity can't comprehend, horrors the star spawn could barely comprehend. And when the demons on the 8th abyss attempted their invasion in 10MYA they were given almost an equal horror, spared only from pure destruction because they fae found such creatures to be useful.

[kqutie]

EPIC : THE FAIR MAIDEN (not so platonic ver.)

CHAPTER FIVE : THE JOURNEY HOME

relations. : various epic characters/reader -- platonic odysseus/reader ; polites/reader ; platonic eurylochus/reader ; platonic elpenor/reader ; platonic perimedes/reader ; platonic odysseus' crew/reader ; hermes/reader

chpt. sum. : You and the crew finally make the final journey back to Ithaca but not without some mishaps along the way.

tags. : reader is still a disney princess (primarily polites' disney princess) ; female, mute reader ; pure comfort ; animal crossing new horizons game mechanics ; hermes tame (sadboy) appearances ; polites being a disney prince ; crew panicking over you ; evil mermaids make an appearance ; slight crack ; tiktok sound reference in the beginning ; odysseus being a distraught, overprotective dad ; eurylochus constantly shaking his head at everyone.

length. : 10.6k

a/n :  for anyone curious about how i imagine Polites to look, I envision him as @elianzis Polities but with glasses hehe~ (i'm too shy to tag them directly ( /)///(\✿) nvm they won't see this anyway, you darlings deserve a direct link to their amazing page and artwork ദ്ദി(˵ •̀ ᴗ - ˵ ) ✧)��

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“We are owed a thorough explanation, fair maiden,” Odysseus’ eyes narrow into a stern look as his strong arms fold over his chest. A few steps behind him, Polites and Eurylochus stand, observing the scene while the rest of the crew form a crowd behind them, also observing the scene. Their captain looks like the perfect image of a father scolding his daughter, which was a feeling most of the men could sympathise with — many left home and their young children behind. In the weeks that have passed since your arrival, many have since grown a filial fondness for you and look to you as their own daughter. So Odysseus wasn’t the only one seething from the display. 

There’s a pressure in the air that makes it hard to find the strength to look anyone in the eyes, but you know you’ll have to give some kind of statement on the events that have just transpired. The only problem is that you can’t speak. 

“Captain,” Polites approaches helpfully, a kind smile on his lips as his eyes filled with concern behind the shine of his glasses, “The fair maiden cannot speak, remember?” 

“She can still attempt to explain herself!” Odysseus stubbornly huffs, arms still crossed as he looks you up and down. “Well? Young lady?” 

Feebly, you raise a hand and pull an embarrassed look — this was going to be difficult, but you’ll try your best. You shake your head and wave your hands about to try and express that your association with Hermes is one that came unexpectedly, even for you. 

‘I never know what he’s going to do next!’ you attempt to communicate with your hands and a shake of your head, ‘He took me by surprise; I didn’t know how to react!’ you think it’s best to avoid the topic of guiltily kissing the god back and, instead, focus on trying to explain that this was all a misunderstanding that went too far. ‘Please believe me…’ you pull a hopeless, pleading expression, pouting pitifully as you hold your hands together in a praying gesture, looking at Odysseus with forlorn eyes. 

Beside him, Polites nods along with a pondering expression; he was always someone who understood you well. “You mean to say that he took you by surprise?” The elucidation Polites was deciphering from your gestures was understandable; the gods always seemed to do whatever they pleased, not really caring about who was affected and how. It made his stomach lurch to think that you were involved with a god, knowing the horrid encounters his captain and close friend had to suffer because of quite a few. At the very least, you seemed unharmed and that it was Hermes, a rather friendly god from what Polites could gather from the musical that warned him and others (mainly Odysseus) of their fates.  

‘Yes yes!’ you nodded your head enthusiastically, feeling lighter at the feeling of being so easily understood — you could always count on Polites.

“UGH!” Odysseus shouts, punching a nearby tree before turning to you with wild eyes, completely ignoring the 100-bell coin that falls on his head before falling to the ground. “What a manipulative, conniving, sorry-excuse-for-a-god! What in the underworld is wrong with him?!” Odysseus stands there for a moment, panting from his heated outburst as everyone else, including you, stares on in shock, frozen up, not knowing what to do or say and unable to look away. “

Why would he manipulate you?” Odysseus approaches you with sympathetic eyes, his hands reaching out to clasp onto your shoulders when he comes within arms reach of you. “Why would he do that?” you feel his large, calloused hands squeeze you ever so slightly and he looks away, thinking to himself. 

Moments tensely pass before he meets your eyes once more, “Did you give in?“ He doesn’t give you the chance to answer before his hands fly to his head, clutching at his hair as he howls into the air, “NOOO!”

Eurylochus finally steps forward to shake some sense into his brother-in-law and captain while Polites moves to stand beside you, placing a comforting hand on your upper back. “He’ll get over it in time,” the glasses-wearing third in command whispers with a small smile. 

“Get a hold of yourself, Captain; you’re losing face.” Eurylochus clearly wasn’t the type to offer the best comfort. 

Odysseus was unable to hear anyone outside of his rapid murmurings, however. “So shameless! So barbaric!” Oddly enough, the captain’s stubbornness on the topic and anger for your sake made you smile. In the time you’ve spent with Odysseus and the crew, you’ve grown quite close; you associate it with the warm comfort that blooms in your chest every time they act adorably like this. Pulling away from Polites, you step up to Odysseus and interrupt his ramblings by hugging him around the torso and laying your cheek on his chest. His rambling immediately stops and he freezes up, not knowing how to respond. You feel him look over his shoulder to where Polites stood before sighing and hugging you close in return. 

“The next time this happens, you come to me and I’ll make sure nothing bad happens, okay?” Odysseus smiles down at you but despite his offer, you couldn’t help but feel guilty. Hermes had given you his blessing and that had led to you travelling between two sheds, which will be very helpful for when you’re on the water again. It also wasn’t the case of you not enjoying the kiss because you kissed him back… In your heart, it only seems right to clear up this misunderstanding. 

When Odysseus finally pulls away after calming down from his strong emotions, you call for Hermes. Hopefully, he’ll come back and help you clear the air with everyone. As the speediest god known to man, it didn’t take long for Hermes to return with his usual charming grin on his face. 

“You called my lady~” He stays suspended in the air and bows at the waist whilst bringing your knuckles to his lips. 

‘Hermes, you need to clear up this misunderstanding! Please!’ you plead with the god telepathically, knowing he can hear your thoughts. Behind you, the crew, Odysseus, Eurylochus and Polites, are alert and drawn taught like a bow, their fingers twitching to grasp their weapons and attack. 

“Did you call him here, fair maiden?” Eurylochus asks and draws his lips into a thin line when you nod your head in confirmation. 

“Hmmm~… your fair maiden says she wants to clear up this misunderstanding,” Hermes comments, rubbing at his chin with smiling eyes. 

Eyes wide, Polites looks between you and Hermes almost frantically, “You can understand her?” 

“Oh yes, I can darling~ She speaks directly to me up here,” Hermes points to his temple and giggles as he watches you stomp your foot and angrily scold him. It was amusing the see the wonder and awe in the men’s expressions, some even held a hint of envy — they also wanted to be able to understand you. 

‘Tell them that our first meeting was a surprise and that it was so you could give me your blessing. And…about the kiss…’ Hermes carefully observes the way your eyes dart to a figure who stands behind you with the rest of the men. He’s a man with kind eyes, a bandana and glasses. With a thoughtful hum, Hermes looks Polites up and down. Perhaps he has another reason for backing away — Athena was right. Despite wanting to act on his desires, Hermes knows that only agony and suffering will await him if he associates himself with yet another mortal. ‘Both times, the kiss was a surprise,’ 

‘Oh, but you enjoyed them both, yes?’ Hermes replies telepathically and laughs aloud when you grab him by the collar, a feeble threat, for what can you do against a god like him? Gasps of amazement echo amongst the crowd from your gesture and Hermes’ easy surrender as he holds his palms up.  

“Alright alright, my little traveller, I concede…” Hermes clears his throat once you finally let go of his collar and smirks when Odysseus takes the opportunity to pull you back and stand in front of you defensively. “The first time, I had given your fair maiden my blessing. Similar to the one my sister has bestowed upon you Odysseus,” Hermes explains, his smirk never faltering under the tense atmosphere. He quite likes it. Actually. He loves knowing the power he holds above mortals as a god. It was only disheartening how, despite his superior standing, when it comes to love, he remains inferior, a loser.  

“I want what’s best for her too. And I haven’t forgotten my promise,” Hermes holds his hands up with his palms facing them once more, “I won’t interfere with your journey further than this.”

With that Hermes zips to the skies with his signature laugh fading along with him. You don’t understand why he left so quickly and your brows furrow at the thought that, perhaps, the subtle hints of sorrow in his eyes weren’t a figment of your imagination.  

��࣪ ﹏𓊝﹏𓂁﹏⊹࣪ ˖

“Fair maiden,” Polites goes to you, “are you alright?” his expression is consumed by worry. There’s no judgment or disgust, only concern and your heart aches at the sight. Recently, you haven’t been the best at keeping your focus, and it's evident that everyone has noticed. Odysseus is always quick to blame Hermes, but you make sure to put a stop to his ramblings before he has the chance to curse at the god. Despite their friendship in the musical, it seems as though Odysseus now has a grudge against the godly messenger. It was quite amusing in a way, but you did feel a little guilty for being the cause of that small rift. 

The rest of the crew, however, easily step up to help you with your regular island, eager to be of help after all the blessings you’ve given them thus far, helping them survive on the open ocean, evading starvation and keeping up their spirits so that they could get home safely. Eurylochus has been a more silent but proactive supporter; you can feel his concern through the look in his eyes but appreciate his courtesy of keeping quiet, stepping forward to help you when you need it, and pulling away when he can sense that you need the space. The second commander was the one to often redirect Elpenor and Perimedes’ advances, who are unable to hold themselves back from reaching out and doing their best to comfort you by pulling silly faces or distracting you with a bug or a fish they’ve found. The pair were always very endearing, so much so that you felt a little regretful whenever they were dragged off at the collar by Eurylochus. 

“The fair maiden doesn’t need you two bothering her right now!” Eurylochus scolds with obvious irritation, “Go and find something else to do, something useful.”    

“Awww…” Elpenor pouts as Perimedes crosses his arms. 

“We only wanted to cheer her up with the flat fish we found…“ The two looked like an adorable pair of dejected puppies but Eurylochus was right, you needed the space to think about your emotions and the conflict going on between your heart and mind. 

“Fair maiden?” Shaking your head, you snap yourself out of your daze and force a smile at Polites. You give him a reassuring nod and turn away before he can say anything more. You should refocus your efforts on gathering supplies so that you can help Odysseus and the crew return home safely.

⊹࣪ ﹏𓊝﹏𓂁﹏⊹࣪ ˖

It’s been two or so weeks, and you were finally in agreement with Odysseus that you could make it home safe and sound, satisfied with the amount of supplies you had gathered on your island. Not to mention you had Hermes’ blessing to replenish your stock when needed. Early the next morning, Eurylochus and Odysseus were surveying the crew’s efforts in hoisting the supplies up to the ships, using a very handy pulley system they had created with their fishing nets and some ropes. The ordeal was rather sufficient and soon enough, everyone was taking the time to say goodbye to your villagers, primarily their favourites and the ones they had spent the most time with on the island. 

“This is goodbye, Boots!” Elpenor wails, cradling the alligator in his arms like a baby, as Boots makes an equal wailing noise, snapping his powerful jaws to express his sorrows. “I’ll never forget you, my friend!”

Perimedes was equally heartbroken, knelt before Fang and quietly hugged him. The blonde presses his face into the wolf’s silver-grey fur, murmuring his farewell as Fang patiently waits to be let go, comfortingly patting his friend on the thigh with a paw as he nuzzles him affectionately with his snout. “Be well, Fang. I will miss you dearly, my friend.” Perimedes sniffles as he pulls away, only to weep when Fang leans forward to lovingly rub his head against him. 

“You take care of yourself, okay, Mitzi?” Polites whispers as his glasses fog up. He lovingly hugs the blue and white cat to his chest, smiling when she purrs and nuzzles the side of his head. “What a good girl you are…thank you for being my friend. I shall never forget you, my dear.”

“I’m going to miss you three…” Eurylochus whispers in a strained voice as he fondly watches his familiar trio of squirrels play about his sitting form for the last time. “Marshal, make sure these two don’t get into too much trouble.” the white squirrel huffs a breath but nods and gives a brief shake of his tail in response, it’s a resounding ‘Of course!’. “Filbert, make sure you don’t eat too quickly, or else you’ll get a stomach ache…again.” the blue squirrel blinks up at the tall, broad second commander and wiggles his tail. There isn’t a single thought behind his eyes, and Eurylochus can only sigh in resignation before smiling fondly at the food-loving squirrel — there was no getting in between Filbert and his love for food. “And Poppy, keep being sweet. That is your most charming trait.” the red squirrel lets out a happy squeak and runs up his form to rest on his shoulder and nuzzle his cheek affectionately. She is soon joined by Marshal and Filbert, who also nuzzle into his cheek from the opposite shoulder — that was the closest you’ve seen Eurylochus to crying openly, he’s truly made a great bond with the three in the short time you've been together. 

“Fauna, Shino,” Odysseus addresses, taking a knee before the two deers. “This is where we must say our goodbyes—” Before he could speak further, Fauna let out a small whine and pressed her snout into the captain’s cheek while Shino playfully nibbled at his hair, conscious of her horns. With a baritone chuckle, Odysseus brings up his arms to hug both of them in return, pressing his forehead against their own as he whispers a soft farewell to each of them separately. “Fauna, you graceful creature, thank you for bringing me peace and stability. Please stay healthy. Shino, I hope you never lose your vivacious nature, thank you for being such a joy. Please stay healthy, also.”

Maybe one day you’ll be able to reunite the crew with your villagers; it broke your heart seeing everyone so anguished over having to say goodbye. But there was still a buzz in the air over making the final leg of the journey home. Despite the goodbyes, everyone was eager to see their families and their beloved island once again. 

Stepping onto the dock, you look up at Odysseus’ main ship and ponder on how you’d be able to climb up. Many of the crew easily climb up to the deck with their bare hands and feet, effortlessly scaling the side of the ship, with several making a final jump for the ship’s raised perimeter before hulling themselves onto the top deck. You bring out your ladder but frown when it barely reaches the top of the ship. Maybe it was worth trying to scale the side of the ship too. Looking down, you grab the long skirt of your dress and hull it up before you make your first attempt at climbing the ship, but stop in your tracks when you’re called to by a pair of familiar voices. 

“Fair maiden!” you smile at Perimedes and Elpenor as they approach. 

“Would you like some help getting to the top deck?” Elpenor looks sheepish despite being the one to offer help — you gather that he remembers the comical antics they engaged in with helping you down from the ship the first time you docked at your island.    

You begin to nod but abruptly stop, surprised when a figure steps in between you. Polites eyes the two sailors with an unreadable look as they avoid his eyes. “If the two of you want to help the fair maiden up to the ship’s top deck, I suggest you climb up there yourself and throw us a rope. Stand by and be prepared to pull,” Polites says in a commanding tone as you stare up at him in wonder. He was able to effortlessly switch between the two sides of him as a kind friend and the authoritative third commander, but it always surprised you to witness the definite shift in his voice and posture. 

“Yes, Commander!” Elpenor and Perimedes simultaneously salute him before helping each other climb the ship the same way everyone else did. After seeing that Perimedes and Elpenor follow through with his orders, Polites looks down, his expression softening as he gazes upon your beautiful features and the wonder in your eyes. 

“I’m afraid you’ll have to excuse me, my fair lady.” Polites doesn’t elaborate further and suddenly pulls you into his side by the waist, pushing a silent gasp to escape you. He mutters a softly whispered apology and catches the rope thrown over the ship’s perimeter. In silence, you watch him wrap the rope around your combined waists, joining you both with a secure knot. He finally wraps the rope around his spare arm and tugs at it when he asks if you’re comfortable and gets an affirming nod. The two of you immediately start being pulled up together; Polites firmly wraps his other arm around you and settles you on his waist for extra security. “Apologies once again, fair maiden.” Polites avoids your eyes as you wrap your arms around his neck, securely perched against him, tempted to wrap your legs around his hips for even further security. 

It didn’t take long for the two of you to reach the deck, where you find that the majority of the crew had participated in the tugging of the rope, explaining why it had been such a quick trip up. Smiling gratefully at them, they nod in acknowledgement while Polites undoes the knot of the rope tying you together. 

“Lift the anchor!” Odysseus commands a distance away despite his voice ringing so clearly, “We set sail back to Ithaca now! Make haste! Full speed ahead!” 

“Yes sir!” the resounding boom of the crew’s synchronised will send a shiver down your spine. They’re such a powerful fleet when they’re all working together. Despite enjoying your island and the happy memories you’ve been able to create with everyone, you were excited to be on the ocean again. Journeying with Odysseus and the crew gave such an addictive exhilaration that you think your veins would pop at any moment — in the best way possible.  

Peeking shyly up at Polites, you find that he’s already smiling down at you and hurry to move your gaze elsewhere. He simply laughs in merriment before stepping away to bow at the waist towards you, a hand against his chest while his other lays against his back. “Rest, fair maiden, allow us to work the labour.” You share a gentle smile before he joins the crew at the oars. 

⊹࣪ ﹏𓊝﹏𓂁﹏⊹࣪ ˖

It’s been difficult for you to meet Polites’ eyes, knowing that he’d been a witness to the display of Hermes’ favouritism for you. It helped that the matter was calmed by Hermes’ confession and promise to keep his hands to himself, however, the guilt wasn’t so easily swept away. Was that guilt? What did you have to feel guilty for in the first place?… Looking towards Polites as he mingled with the rest of the crew, your heart pinches in your chest. It was a stinging pain that slowly numbed out but lingered. Polites was helping to mend the large nets Odysseus had insisted they use to help you gather ingredients for their meals, his smile was the same, his kind eyes were the same, and his soft touch was the same. And yet, it all felt so different to you. Why do you feel as though you’ve betrayed him somehow? Sighing, you turn around only to be faced with Odysseus. 

“Polites?” he asks you, his voice lowered so as not to draw too much attention. You must have pulled a flustered expression if his amused laughter was anything to go by. “He’s a good man, I can attest to that — he is my close friend and brother in all but blood, after all.” Odysseus places a hand on your shoulder, the warmth of his large palms feeling like acceptance and approval against your skin. But you cannot accept and look to the ground with remorse, “Don’t look so upset now. I wouldn’t lie to you about this…“ he observes your mannerisms further and realises he was completely off with his deduction. “Oh, I see… Not to worry, fair maiden. Polites is very understanding, a trait of his I admire greatly. He is not the type to shame you for acting under the will of a god; we are all but the casualties of their volitions.” His words brought you some comfort but you weren’t fully convinced. Seeing this, Odysseus does the only thing he can think of and pulls you into his arms, burying your face into his chest as he leans down to whisper in your ear. His arms feel protective around you, secure and solid, it feels safe there and you can finally breathe in relief. “Trust in me. Trust in him. He does not see you differently nor will act differently towards you.” Odysseus pulls away slightly to be able to look into your eyes. There’s such an abundance of faith and warmth in his stare, it’s almost tangible. “Polites is no ordinary man.”   

It isn’t until sunset, when all of the crew across the twelve ships have been fed, that you finally get to stand beside Polites again. The two of you enjoy the sea breeze together, resting against the ship’s edge, watching as the sun sets on the horizon and the rocking waves that lap against the ship’s body. There’s some chatter around but not at the usual loudness; rather, the crew have quieted with the day, eager to wind down for the evening. 

“I’m sorry that you had to say goodbye to your island,” Polites utters, breaking the silence and observing as you shake your head, insistent that ‘it isn’t a big deal’. However, you are unable to meet his eyes the whole time, and his brows furrow in concern, “Whatever’s the matter, my lady?” you cannot answer and you don’t want to so you turn away, trying to distract yourself by leaning against the railing further and tensely scrutinise the lapping waves below.

“…I assure you that I see you no different to before.” Eyes wide with shock, you snap your neck towards him, silently questioning how he knew. “Odysseus spoke to me.” You huff a sigh but cannot deny anything. “I only want to assure you that, he was right. After seeing our potential future in that musical, I was reminded over and over how we have no say against any god. Therefore, you cannot be blamed.”

But you still liked it in that moment… you want to express to him the guilt evident in your expression. Polites takes another moment to observe your actions and expressions once more. He can pick up on your shame easily, his attentive eyes make it so.

“Are you feeling guilty somehow?” you freeze up and that answers enough, “Then that must mean you weren’t opposed to Hermes’ actions.” The guilt on your face deepens and you hear a sigh that makes your heart stutter and your stomach heavy, “Then you must feel regretful for my sake.” When you look towards Polites again, his lips aren’t curved into a frown but rather a smile, a kind, understanding smile. “Is it because you worry for my feelings? For our relation with each other?” 

With sad eyes, you meet his own and reach up to weakly grip the fabric of his chiton. A fragile apology. Polites, with such softness, takes your hand and brings it to his lips, “Is it because you feel as though you’ve betrayed me somehow? Like you’re using me and taking advantage of my character?” He hit it right on the head. You can’t look at him! He must think you’re a very greedy and shameless person, and you were in that moment, but you’re hardly ever like that…  

“Please do.” his words, which he says so nonchalantly, make you look up with wide, rounded eyes. He chuckles at your adorable look of surprise and brings your hand down to press your palm against his chest, “Feel free to use me however you wish, my fair maiden, as much as you wish.” He moves closer, but you’re frozen in place. Now, he’s so close that you can feel your breath against the back of your hand that he presses against his chest. “That is all I could ever dream of being. As long as I am useful to you, nothing else matters. I am at your mercy.”

⊹࣪ ﹏𓊝﹏𓂁﹏⊹࣪ ˖

The sea had been calm for days, plagued by the kind of stillness that made the crew restless because of its familiarity; they can still remember how close to starvation they were after avoiding the Cyclops’ island and yet, not having any winds to aid them — the gods promising not to interfere in their journey home after everyone saw their potentially disastrous future also meant having no winds to push them forward. Their energy to row at the oars wasn’t proportional to their rapidly depleting food stores. They were somewhat confident now that you were there to help them with your god-like powers, but they couldn’t help but feel restless by the grim memories that haunted them. It didn’t help that the supplies you had readily provided each of the twelve black ships were running low despite the efforts Odysseus and the crew have made to preserve them for as long as possible, even using the storage techniques they were familiar with such as salting and sun-drying. The piles of coconuts were long since exhausted, dried fruit reduced to crumbs lay at the bottom of sacks, while rows of sun-dried, salted fish were gone without a trace. Odysseus paced the deck, the concern weighing heavy on his shoulders and brows as he tallied their remaining stores mentally, only to stress himself further. He tried to hide it, knowing it didn’t do well for the crewmen to see their captain so openly anxious. It was no use, however.  

You watched him from where you sat mending a fishing net with a small group of the crew, your fingers working deftly through the frayed fibres, nimble and much softer than their callused, sturdy hands. When the captain sighed and rubbed his temples, you set the net aside and approached with knitted brows, tapping his arm gently.

"Fair maiden?" Odysseus murmurs and turns to you, eyes wide with shock before softening as he observes your gesticulate communication style. First, you pointed to the empty corner of the ship that once held piles of coconuts, then mimed eating—generously and without restraint, your hands shovelling imaginary food into your mouth. Then you gestured to the horizon behind the ship’s stern, where your island had disappeared behind days before and smiled.

Odysseus frowned. "You want us to continue eating freely? But we’re quickly depleting our food stores if we run out—"Pressing a hand to your chest in promise, you stare deeply into his eyes and implore him to have confidence. ‘Trust me’ you voice with your pleading look.

For a long, drawn-out moment, Odysseus observes your countenance and takes in the glow of your certitude before eventually exhaling and nodding. "Alright. But if we starve, you’re to blame." 

There’s a teasing glint in his eye as his words come out softly, the two of you know he doesn’t mean anything threatening by it, especially when he smiles at the sight of you forming your arms into an ‘x’ with a firm shake of your head. ‘It won’t happen, captain,’ you end with a two-finger salute that he chuckles at. 

Over the next few days, you made sure that the crew ate well, as you always did, providing thick and hearty stews, golden-baked bread and fragrant fruit. The men thought themselves stupid and almost threw themselves overboard from the realisation; despite the visibly depleting supplies, you still had your slim wooden storage, where fresh food supplies endlessly flowed from. 

After shaking off their nervousness, the crew finally allowed themselves to laugh. “How could we have forgotten?” Odysseus shook his head fondly at you, and everyone laughed louder thinking back on their brainlessness. With your care and a steady supply of three meals per day, their strength had returned, and they were functioning in optimal conditions once again. But there was also confusion among the relief. When you first arrived, you could only feed them one meal per day, and they were left to snack on coconuts and bread baskets that you had left out for them to ration between themselves. Now, they were able to enjoy three full meals a day without worry, and the idea of allocating equal provisions amongst all 600 men had been long forgotten—they were eating as if they were still on your island. 

"Where is all this coming from?" Elpenor asked one evening, mouth full of stew-soaked bread such that barely anyone could understand him. But you still understood despite his muffled speech and smiled simply at him in response, tapping your lips and winking in a silent secret. Somewhat embarrassed, Elpenor avoids your eyes and tries to ignore the rising heat in his cheeks — he can’t help that you’re such an angel but it wasn’t good for his heart when you winked at him like that. Beside him, Perimedes chuckles at his younger friend’s reaction and nudges him teasingly with his elbow. 

Polites watches you with quiet amusement, adoring the way you interact with the crew and tilting his head fondly as his glasses catch the firelight. His unwavering, warm gaze lingers on you with a deep emotion swimming in his chocolate pools—trust, admiration, and something more that makes your cheeks warm. The third commander is sure that you have your way of getting ample food supplies, that’s just how you are; you’re capable of so much, and you surprise them every time, pleasantly so. He thinks much more of you than that but keeps the thoughts to himself. What matters is that the crew were safe and well and that their spirits were high, and it’s all thanks to you. Glimpsing the relaxed look of his captain and the second commander across the deck, standing side by side as they gaze at you tenderly, Polites can tell that they are just as grateful to you.  

⊹࣪ ﹏𓊝﹏𓂁﹏⊹࣪ ˖

You always leave at dawn, travelling back to your island for food and other supplies through your storage shed. The sky is still painted by golden rays, stretching over the softest blues and hints of purple, the crew remain asleep except for the watchmen, who you’d learned to avoid with careful steps; they were already exhausted from the night watch, so you dare not disturb them unnecessarily— they’re likely already dreaming of the peaceful sleep they’ll fall into as soon as the rest of the crew wake up. With the storage shed as your gateway, travelling between your island and the boat was without hassle, the only indication of your leaving being the slow creak of the weathered wood as you slipped inside and shut the door behind you. Your villagers always greeted you on the other side, the early risers at least, helping you with your daily chores and collecting more food for the crew, who they always ask about and you’re always happy to update them on. Hermes’ blessing was truly that, a blessing; thanks to him, you’ve been able to keep feeding the crew well without having to worry about your own food stores. A mere two weeks wasn’t enough to prep for feeding all 600 men for the long journey home, but you didn’t have to worry about such things, thankfully.

This morning was different, however. Filbert had gotten sick, and you had rushed to give him medicine, it was also time for you to harvest your crops and replant new ones, which you had taken extra time in doing as you had added more to your crop field since having to feed a 600-men fleet. You had just finished shaking the apple trees, the fruit crisp and sweet as usual, when you realised how much time had passed and hurried to put the fruits and crops into your storage so that you could return to the ship quickly. 

‘I’m sorry, everyone, I have to run!’ you call back to your villagers in your rush to the storage shed, their replies echoing in your mind as you fling the door open and jump inside. While travelling through, you begin to hear the frantic voices of the crew on the other side and bite your lip with worry. Things don’t sound good…

"Where did she go?!—”

“Fair maiden!“

“Did she fall into the water?!”

“—Hurry! Stop rowing and cast the nets!”

The evident panic and fear in their overlapping shouts made your breath hitch. You hadn’t meant to cause such alarm but steel yourself before pushing the shed door open. The sun blinds you as you step out of the shed, blinking rapidly to allow your vision to return, only to freeze in place when you take in the chaos around you. On both sides of the ship, groups of men had cast nets as others tried to signal to the other ships to stop rowing and drop their anchor, shouting over the waters and urging them to cast their nets as well, just in case you had accidentally been thrown overboard. Men rushed about frantically, not knowing what to do, but were restless and used their energy to look for you wherever you may be, desperately hoping that you were hiding somewhere on the ship. Eurylochus was shouting orders across to the other ships, his features marred with anger that things weren’t being done diligently enough, quickly enough, well enough. Polites ran between the two sides of the ship, helping cast the nets about and hurriedly hulling them back only grow more agitated and desperate with every empty find, his eyes were unusually wild with a trepidation, enough to have sparked urgency even in yourself. 

Odysseus stood there, overlooking the panic with barely contained hysteria, his hands clenched into tight fists at his side to the point where his knuckles were white and shaking, the veins in his arms bulging from the strain. He took deep breaths, trying to calm his mind so that he could think straight and go about methodically finding you, trying to imagine where you could have possibly gone as Athena perched on his shoulder whispering calming assurances into his mind. 

‘Be calm Odysseus.’ The wise goddess says in a gentle but firm tone. ‘She is safe and she will return.’

‘How could you possibly know that?’ Odysseus argues back bitterly, his irritation rising at her composed air. 

‘Trust me…’ Odysseus grits his teeth as he eyes his mentor and friend fly off his shoulder, his eyes glaring at her feathered body and outstretched wings. But then she lands on your storage shed, and when his eyes fall, it lands on your frozen form.  

“Fair maiden!” Flooded with relief, Odysseus sprints forward and pulls you into his arms, his relief doubling, knowing that you are safe and sound and real. Behind him, half the crew go rigid and blink at you in stunned silence, they’ve become a small gallery of statues as they try to comprehend your sudden reappearance. For a heartbeat, no one moved. It was still and quiet except for the confused shouts from the other boats, frantically asking for updates on you, their fair maiden. Smiling into Odysseus’ shoulder, you raise a hand and give an almost shy small wave, causing a crescendo of happy cheers to go through the crew. Some raise their arms to cheer, while others pat their chests in relief. 

“You’re alright…” Polites whispers to himself with sagging shoulders, gone was his taut frame and tense air surrounding him. Thank goodness you were back and well. 

“Where did you go, fair maiden? We couldn’t find you.” Eurylochus asked, approaching and helping pry Odysseus off you once he was close enough. It made you giggle slightly to see Odysseus’ outstretched arms and defeated pout before turning to glare at his second commander for handling him like a sack of potatoes. 

You suppose that now was the perfect time to visually demonstrate the blessing Hermes had given you. With a look that they didn’t know how to comprehend, you turn and step back into the shed before shutting the door. The last thing you saw was Odysseus’ widening eyes, Eurylochus’ furrowed brows and Polites’ figure rushing forward with skewed glasses. Now everyone knew what you were trying to say to them; it was a farewell, a goodbye. NO! The moment you disappeared, the ship erupted with cries of despair and shouts of denial.

"SHE’S GONE!" Elpenor shrieked, thoughtlessly shrugging past his captain and commanders in his attempt to get to the shed. Perimedes was close behind him, breaking out of the crowds with wild eyes and hands frantic with the urgency to do something. 

“Hurry! Open it! Pry it open!" Perimedes joins his friend, his fingers scrabbling at the wooden door but their movements were so clumsy with nerves, they barely managed to grasp the wood properly.

Odysseus stood in place, frozen and with a pale complexion. You had come through the shed and now you had disappeared through it too… How could you just leave like that? No one got to say a proper goodbye. "No—no, she wouldn’t just—“ the captain couldn’t even bring himself to finish his sentence. This was too much at once.

“She just got back…” Polites utters, his mind racing but still too slow at grasping the reality that you were gone once again. He felt like he was collapsing; he couldn’t feel his legs, and his arms were shaky.

Eurylochus moved before anyone else could, shovelling away Perimedes and Elpenor so that he could plant himself in front of the shed with his arms spread. "STOP." His voice boomed and cut through the panic like the mammoth blade he carried on his back: the Strongest of Same. "She’s coming back.”

"How do you know?!" someone shouted, desperation evident in their voice.

Eurylochus didn’t flinch. "Because she always does.”

“Then open the door—”

“No!” Eurylochus had learned his lesson from that musical. Never again will he do such a thing, he has faith in you, more faith than he has for his captain, and he wouldn’t dare doubt that faith. A single drop of poisonous doubt could lead to something disastrous and that wasn’t what he wanted, not for himself, his captain, or the crew. He had doomed them once, not again. 

Odysseus’ hands clenched at his sides. "Eurylochus, if you’re wrong—"

"I’m not.” Odysseus gave a firm nod, the conviction in his second commander’s eyes was contagious, to the point where he felt idiotic for not sharing in his certainty about you, to begin with. He should have better faith in you too, it isn’t like you to just up and leave like that; you will return. 

The crew wavered, torn between fear and trust until Polites stepped forward, his voice calm but firm. He, too, had seen the conviction in Eurylochus’ eyes and came to the same short cycle of revelations as his close friend and captain. ”She’s never let us down before. Let’s wait.”

Moments stretched on like hours as the crew muttered amongst themselves, casting frequent, uneasy glances at the shed. Odysseus didn’t move, his gaze locked on the door with a tight jaw as Polites stepped up beside him to place a comforting hand on his shoulder. Everyone anxiously eyed the door behind their second commander’s strong physique, willing it to open somehow soon. 

Then—

Eurylochus hurries to the side, hearing your faint approach before anyone else could, and everyone goes rigged at his sudden movements. The shed door creaks open. And you step out, arms laden with overflowing food—baskets of fresh bread and perfectly ripe fruit and vegetables—you wanted to make it obvious that you had returned from your island, so it was necessary to provide the visual aid. Hopefully, this provides a good enough explanation. 

But then you look up and blink at the scene before you: the entire crew staring, some with tears in their eyes, others with hands still half-raised as if to reach out and break down the shed’s door. Nothing you wanted to convey had been communicated successfully.Before you can even process things, however, Odysseus crosses the gap between you in three strides and pulls you into a crushing hug once more. The baskets of bread dig into your ribs as loose fruit and veg fall to the wooden deck by your feet, but you don’t care—not when his arms tremble slightly around you.

“Don’t. You. Ever.” he growls into your hair, his arms giving you a slight squeeze, ”Do. That. Again.” Pulling back slightly, you give him a questioning look. What had they been so worried about? You didn’t take that long, though… was there a time disparity as you moved through the portal?

Polites answered your silent question for you as Odysseus pulled away, his voice soft with relief. "We thought you left us for good. The shed was the same way you were brought to us and we believed it had taken you away just the same.”

Your chest ached at his words, and you searched the crew to find that everyone shared in the sentiment. With your eyes, you give everyone an apologetic look; you hadn’t meant to scare them, you only intended to finally explain how you were getting so much food. Setting the baskets down, you reached for Odysseus’ hand and squeezed it in silent apology before turning to the rest of the crew and bowing your head to convey your regret— ‘I didn’t mean for this to happen’. Then you tilted your head back as if calling to the sky for—

Hermes appears with a gust of wind, lounging mid-air with a smirk as the airy fabric of his attire flutters around him elegantly. "Oh, relax darlings~ She’s under my blessing, remember? She is free to move between her island and your ship whenever she wishes through her little shed." His eyes flicker to Polites, who stiffened under his scrutiny, and sees how close you and the headband-wearing commander are. The third commander moves you two even closer when he defiantly pulls you to his side by the waist, his eyes filled with emotions no one but Hermes can decipher — Polites had silently announced his interest in you and your close relationship with each other. When you turn to smile at the kind third commander, slightly curious about his sudden touch, Polites simply brushes his lips against your forehead.

“Next time," Polites murmurs against your skin, "warn us before you go.” With heated cheeks, you nod your head, heart fluttering at the warmth of his touch and turn your gaze away when Hermes laughs, clearly seeing the exchange before vanishing with a wink directed at you both. Behind you, Odysseus and Eurylochus exchanged knowing smirks, teasing words eager to fall from their mouths as they eye Polites’ pink-flushed ears and his hand that has yet to leave your waist.

That evening, the chaos had finally calmed down, and you were able to help routinely deliver dinner to the other ships with Polites and Eurylochus at your side. Naturally, the other crewmen were curious to know what all the disorder was for despite it settling surprisingly fast. 

"What was all that shouting earlier?" Lycaon from the second ship asked, accepting his share of bread gratin as his other crew mates leaned forward to listen closely.

Eurylochus sighed, eying you the way a disappointed brother would. "The fair maiden gave us a scare.”

“Did the fair maiden really disappear?” Several crew members’ eyes turn to you as you help distribute coconuts for dessert to another group nearby, oblivious to the conversation going on about you. 

Polites shook his head, his hand finding yours as soon as you returned to them after distributing all the food you had for the ship. You were ready to move on to the next ship. “No, she’s not going anywhere.” The crew relaxed but their worried glances lingered, making you look at them with bewilderment. Squeezing Polites’ fingers, you look at him curiously but that was a mistake; was his smile always so charming?

⊹࣪ ﹏𓊝﹏𓂁﹏⊹࣪ ˖

The air hung thick with tension that morning.

You had woken before dawn, slipping quietly through the storage shed to tend to your island once more. This was a solid routine you had built up on the ocean journey, and everyone knew that you would return each time. Today, the crops needed watering, the fruit trees had to be shaken, and you wanted to prepare something special for breakfast, a treat for the crew, perhaps some coconut pancakes. The thought made you smile as you worked, the morning sun warming your back as you converse happily with your villagers, updating Boots and Fang on Elpenor and Perimedes. As soon as the duo knew that you were returning to the island, they eagerly asked you to relay messages to their favourite alligator and wolf villager, both of which greatly appreciated having some contact with their favourite crew members. They truly made a beautiful friendship together despite the little time they had; you only wished to reunite them properly but didn’t want to risk anyone’s wellbeing as Hermes’ blessing was meant for you specifically.   

Now that everyone knew where you were going each morning, they weren’t fussed about how long you took to return, as long as you were safe, they were happy, so you were able to take your time and enjoy doing your chores as you zipped about the island with your villagers close behind. You even settled on cooking breakfast on your island’s outdoor cooking area, where your kitchen station remained steady and on a solid foundation, unlike the rocking of ocean waves. A considerable stretch of time soon passed, and you were finally happy with returning to the ship. However, as you stepped onto the deck, you immediately sensed something wrong with the atmosphere. 

A heavy cloud had settled over the ship, as well as the other ships in Odysseus’ fleet, obscuring your view and filling the air with an aqueous chill. Nestled in the fog, the crew moved with urgent precision, replacing their usual laughter and cheerful greetings, welcoming you back aboard the ship with grim silence. Many, if not all, of the crew were wrapped up with rope, tied to each other with some even tied around the mast while a large group had their hands tied to the oars so that they could keep rowing the ship. In some way, everyone’s hands and feet were tied together to limit their movement. 

What was happening? 

Your frantic eyes search the boat until you find Odysseus, who’s standing at the helm and holding up a flag with a set jaw. The raised flag was red to mean ‘caution’, but it was also shaped to look like a fishtail, you didn’t know what it meant exactly, but the other ships did as they raised the same flag in response: they had seen the warning and were acting accordingly. Eurylochus was beside the captain with an armful of rope, tying his hands and ankles before joining the two of them together, holding the other responsible should anything happen to them. On the deck with the rest of the crew, Polites moved between the men, quick on their feet and pressing small lumps of beeswax in his palms into the ears of the crewmen. No matter how light your footfalls, Polites immediately turns to catch your eye when you step forward cautiously, your inquisitive expression meeting his rigid look of worry as it quickly morphed into one of horror. 

Beeswax in their ears. Dense fog. Restrained with thick ropes. Your stomach dropped in realisation, the pieces finally connected in your mind. Sirens. You knew the stories—how their hypnotising voices could drive men mad, how they lured sailors to their deaths on jagged rocks and feasted on their cold, unmoving bodies. Thankfully, the crew were prepared, sealing their ears with wax, tying themselves up for extra measure and holding up a flag for the rest of the fleet to go with the right protocol. You, however—

You hadn’t been there to prepare with them.

But… there haven’t been any documented occurrences of sirens seducing women. Was it simply because women didn’t often sail the seas? Was that possible? Could sirens seduce women, too? 

Before you could react, the first spellbinding notes drifted across the water and slipped into your ears. It started as a whisper, soft as a lover’s sigh but cold as the chilling touch of ice. Then it coiled around you, sweet and intoxicating, pulling you forward like a tide, beckoning you to the edge where you can gaze out at the waters beyond the ship’s safe perimeter. Everything, the ship, the skies, the crew and their frantic shouts for you—it all melted away.

There was only him.

Polites stood atop a sunlit rock, where the golden rays made his soft curls shine, and the waves crashing around him framed his musculature in a picturesque frame. His draping chiton was gone, showcasing his sun-kissed skin made to shimmer by the droplets of seawater decorating its wide expanse. His broad chest rose and fell in a soporific rhythm, to a tuneful song that made your heart stutter and your blood heat up. His voice—oh, his voice—smooth but rough, kind but deliciously surly, was like nothing you’d ever heard from him before, singing words meant only for you.

"Come closer," Polites beckoned, his hand outstretched with a charming grin on his lips. "Just a little closer, my love. I’m all yours…” Your body moved without thought, pushing you to the ship’s edge. “That’s it! That’s my good girl.” The railing pressed against your lower stomach as you leaned forward, the sea spray kissing your cheeks as you smiled hopelessly at the enchanting man before you. Polites, with his persuasive eyes and thick physique of coiling muscle from the war, smiled widely, his eyes darkening with promise.“Don’t be shy now, my sweet. You know I’ll take good care of you, you know you can use me as you please. Come to me now—”

Strong hands wrenched you back abruptly, just as you were about to leap.

The real Polites—your Polites—spun you around, his face pale with fear and his forehead soaked with sweat. His lips moved, but you couldn’t hear him over the song, over the phantom Polites still calling for you a painful distance away, so close yet so far. You struggled weakly against the real Polites’ hold, attempting to reach the railing multiple times only to be pulled further and further from the edge. Polites’ grip was like iron; he wasn’t going to let you go until they had long passed, and those slimy, revolting, oversized fishes were far enough away that they didn’t endanger you. With one hand, Polites fumbled for the beeswax Odysseus had given him to distribute to the crew. With the other, he held you tight against his chest, your back pressed to his pounding heart.

“Please…” he pleads, his face buried in your hair as he hurries to press the wax into your ears, successfully blocking the siren song. With the world muffled and the song dulled to a distant hum, you finally stop struggling and slump against Polites’ hard frame, weak from a sudden wave of exhaustion. It feels like you’ve fought against 100 men, you were delirious with the fatigue and desperately panting for breath, trying to catch the air that had suddenly left you winded. 

Blinking rapidly, you try your best to gather yourself, but the overtiredness lingered, and so did the vision: Polites on the rocks, half naked with his brawny build on full display, his sultry voice pulling you in, his calculated temptation bewitching you like a heavy sedative. You tremble violently and lose all feeling in your legs as you topple over, with Polites quickly twisting your forms to cushion your fall. He collapses with you, protecting you from the harsh tumble against the wooden deck below as his arms remain locked around your frame. Even when he groans from the ache that begins throbbing from his lower back, his mind doesn’t stray from one singular thought: as long as you’re safe, that’s all that matters. 

When reality finally catches up and you realise the horrific fate you could have endured, tears gloss the surface of your eyes. You bury your face into Polites’ chest for comfort and cling to the fabric of his chiton for assurance. ”I’ve got you.” Polites whispers into the foggy air even though he knows you can’t hear him fully and comfortingly rubs your back as recompense.”I’ve got you…”

Minutes pass by like an eternity, but it isn’t until the ship is a safe distance away that the crew finally releases a breath of relief. Then they see you again and are reminded of what could have happened if it weren’t for Polites rushing to your aid. Thankfully, he had volunteered to untie everyone once they had safely passed Siren territory, leaving him without the additional security of being tied down, and he was free to help pull you back after returning to the ship. With overwhelming concern, the crew look you over with troubled expressions as you remain in Polites’ strong arms, oblivious to his scarlet-red face. It would be very easy for them to tease their third commander to death, but the two of you looked like such a good pair that the majority settled for grinning wickedly in silence instead. 

“It’s alright, my fair maiden,” Polites whispers, gently taking out the beeswax from your ears after getting rid of his own waxy earplugs. They had escaped the fog with the rest of the fleet, and Polites had manoeuvred you into a sitting position, where you’re currently curled up in his lap. “There’s no need to be frightened, we’ve moved passed the sirens now. You’re safe.” He gently strokes your hair until you finally pull away just enough to look up and glimpse his warm smile. 

“There you are.” His grin widens with relief, “Thank the gods you’re alright…” He lifts your hand to his lips and presses a soft kiss to your knuckles. "I’m sorry I couldn’t get to you sooner. Please forgive me…” He keeps his lips pressed against the skin of your knuckles as he looks up your arm to meet your eyes, his gaze apologetic and begging. 

Your heart swelled and fluttered in your chest, a pleasant feeling as you answered his decorous plea. Leaning forward, you press a kiss to his cheek, quick, impulsive and so soft… 

‘I forgive you’.

He froze. Then, slowly, his lips pull up into the softest smile.

“Third commander!” Eurylochus shouts across the ship, drawing all the attention to where he’s tied at the waist with the flag and Odysseus, who snickers mischievously at the picture you and Polites make together, especially after that sweet kiss on the cheek. “I think now would be a good time to untie us, don’t you?” There was a playfulness in their second commander’s voice that didn’t escape anyone and a wave of giggles infected the crew as Polites rolled his eyes and carefully set you aside, politely smoothing out the ruffles of your dress so that your skirt didn’t pull up and show too much unnecessarily — always the gentleman. 

“I’ll be back in a moment, okay? Take deep breaths and try to calm your heart in the meantime.” He practises a few breaths with you before finally leaving your side to untie the crew, smiling at your considerably calmer demeanour, “That’s a good girl.”

With everyone untied and the rest of the fleet also perfectly unscathed by the incident as all were showcasing green flags, another breath of relief was shared. Polites has returned to your side, sitting beside you as you both observe the crew tidy up the ropes so that everyone can quickly get back to working the oars or any other routine task they were responsible for. There was a silent agreement between you and Polites that you wouldn’t bring up what happened in the hopes that you wouldn’t have to confront the situation again. But this also means avoiding Odysseus and Eurylochus’ devious grins, a look that made their thoughts transparent about you and Polites as a pair.  

“So…” Elpenor drawled, stuffed full of dinner and dessert as he looked towards you and Polites, who had hardly left one another’s side since the incident. "What did you see in place of the siren, fair maiden?” It was a useless question because everyone could see. You weren’t embarrassed to see the siren take Polites’ form but your face still burned hot, especially from all the attention. Polites became rigged at your side, not knowing how to answer the question, let alone, banish the visages of his shirtless, shameless image atop a rock, skin and muscles on full show. Merciless, everyone else kept their teasing smirks on display, with some even wiggling their brows at you two.  

“…I didn’t know you were built so…sturdy, third commander,” Perimedes comments, breaking the silence and sending the whole crew into fits of belly-aching laughter. Polites tried to glare at him but couldn’t muster the full bitter expression with the heat plaguing his face. At least, he was able to offer you some escape from the teasing as you buried your burning face into his shoulder and he instinctively rubbed a hand up and down your back for comfort.   

Odysseus coughed into his fist as his shoulders shook from barely suppressed laughter. This wasn’t a good look for him as the captain, but Eurylochus was giggling, too, so it can’t be that bad. "Alright, that’s enough. Back to work, all of you.” 

The crew dispersed at once but not without casting knowing glances your way one last time. To distract yourself, you stand and think about preparing tomorrow’s breakfast ahead of time and take your kitchenette out from storage to begin at once. Savoury bread baskets will be good, and maybe some pull-apart bread to have with a variety of fruit jams might be good, too. As Polites watched you walk away, Eurylochus reached over to clap his friend on the shoulder and murmur something that made his ears turn even redder before walking past to stand at his usual station. Hesitantly, Polites meets his captain’s eyes, not expecting to meet such a warm gaze after how he had reacted to Hermes and you.

“You two make a rather charming pair.”

⊹࣪ ﹏𓊝﹏𓂁﹏⊹࣪ ˖

Days rushed past routinely and without any more incidents that could endanger anyone’s life. You’ve kept the crew well fed so the majority were able to man the oars daily, expediting their journey back home. Meanwhile, you and Polites have returned to normal without any of the crew to follow as they seemed stuck on pushing you two together as much as possible, your only reprieve was when you delivered meals to the other ships, whose crewmen weren’t witnesses to the siren Polites you had been enchanted by. Today was progressing to be another regular day until the sun reached its zenith, and a joyous cry rang through the salt-stiffened air —a single, trembling voice putting a stop to all activity and chatter.

“IT’S HOME! ITHACA!”

Odysseus' head snapped up, his calloused hands freezing on the ship's rail as he looked upon his familiar island home sitting on the horizon, its jagged silhouette a canvas of brilliantly familiar colours, golden cliffs were bright and proud under the sun’s rays, white shores lined the perimeter where the waves lapped at the land and bunches of green pigments decorated the land with lush foliage sprouting from his island’s fertile soil. For a deafening heartbeat, Odysseus didn’t dare breathe as his vision blurred with salty, bulbous tears and his throat tightened, rendering him unable to speak.

It’s been a decade. A decade of rigorous fighting, bloodshed and war followed by weeks of ocean waters, the journey was filled with longing and desperate pleas to finally reach home—and now, at long last… they were home, all 600 men. 

The crew erupted into cheers. Soldiers who had faced the ruthlessness of man now wept like children, their loud celebrations raw with disbelief and profound happiness. Elpenor nearly toppled over the railing, pointing with a shaking hand at their beloved island home as Perimedes sank to his knees beside him, pressing his forehead to the deck, overflowing with gratitude to have returned. It felt like a dream, home at last. Even Eurylochus, ever the phlegmatic second commander, gripped the mast as if he might collapse without it, his knuckles white as he closed his eyes and imagined embracing his beloved wife again after 10 years of fighting a war.

Odysseus swallowed hard, then roared, “TO THE OARS!” They mustn’t waste another moment.

There was no hesitation; the crew surged forward to man their stations, everyone was eager to make it home and finally, finally, relax without having to anticipate any more arduous trials ahead. Their energy was contagious, and you scrambled to join them, rushing to the nearest oar and give your additional support. You find yourself gripping the handles right beside Polites’ own, working so close together that his shoulder brushed yours, warm and solid, and when you glanced up, his eyes were bright with unshed tears, his chest swelling with prodigious pride.

“Faster! Faster!” Odysseus bellowed from where he was also rowing, his voice rough and saturated with emotion, you were surprised he wasn’t choking up when shouting orders. The oars dipped as one, and the ship leapt forward, cutting through the waves like a blade. Closer and closer the fleet of 12 ships raced back to their island, wading over ocean waves so that they could finally dock their ships permanently. 

Home, they’ve reached it after holding on for so long, their wives, sons, daughters, family, friends, and loved ones were all past these shores. They were going to make it. Just a little longer. 

navi. | series m.list

next | six. ... →

a/n : i planned to post this yesterday but i got a little carried away and the length hit double digits for the first time in the series -- i guess i wanted too many things to happen all at once. no worries, it'll be back to around 5-6k words for the final chapter. once this version of the series is done, i plan on going through the purely platonic version so those of you who are looking forward to that, it won't be too long now. my mum is going to have a major surgery in a few days though, so i'll be preoccupied again for a while after to take care of her so please just be patient with me on updating the series.

thank you all again, for supporting and loving on the series, it's been such a joy to write the chapters despite my initial plans on only writing half the amount of chapters I've written now haha! i adore you all! thank you so so much ( ˶˘ ³˘(⋆❛ ہ ❛⋆)!♡

taglist : @bluepanda08 @doodle-with-rhy @sunshinedaisy21 @jolixtreesunn @ellaprime7 @marcelemry @nishayuro @hijinkxy @kerosene-demon @windrosesrasta @keikeiluvyou @darling-eos @iamapotatoe @yuzxi18 @woncloudie @permanently-nothere @ash1 @barrythestrawberry041 @trashcannotbealive @yuksssss @reisinnie @evg6287 @athanasia-day @fuji-sen @yourlocaleffy @magdalenacarmila @starmee-lodurrson @mousedit @tomarisela @onlybe-satanonce @atanukileaf @carrotcakeandcoffee @starmee-lodurrson @depressinglyobsessed (if i missed anyone i'm so sorry! (⸝⸝๑﹏๑⸝⸝) my mind has been so scrambled recently)

[siriuslyobsessedwithfiction]

Writing YA books about Faes/Faeries: Holly Black and Sarah J. Maas

I’ve started to notice this trend and discussions on how some hardcore SJM fans didn't enjoy The Cruel Prince, whereas the Cruel Prince fans tend to be critical of SJM’s work.

Some of it can be blamed on tiktokification of reading, essentially wanting to just read porn, which would be fine, if people would admit to it instead of shitting on good YA books and making them unpopular, which results in publishing of more mediocre smut with problematic undertones with no consistent plot, which in turn dumbs down the audience. There's no need to turn an entire age category of books into Wattpad fanfics.

I’ve seen ACOTAR fans on tiktok (before I deleted tiktok) say they “didn’t get” Cruel Prince or had to DNF because it was “boring” and "too much politics, no smut”. I had heard all of that before I read either Holly Black's or SJM's work so here's an objective take because I'm not a hardcore fan of either of them.

If you think The Cruel Prince has a lot of politics, you have been tiktokified or don't remember a book that wasn't romance or YA to begin with, so please go read one. It's good for you to broaden your horizons. It doesn't have a lot of politics even for YA. But I will say this: the pacing was slow and the romance was practically nonexistent. You'll have to really look into details and speculate. I wasn't digging it at first at all. I had to come back and reread it again after finishing the trilogy. I fell in love with Jude x Cardan only during the second reread. The Cruel Prince trilogy is not for smut seekers.

However, what some fans don't realize is that unlike SJM, Holly Black doesn't excuse Cardan's or Jude's actions to make them look like great people and leaders or forces the narrative and other characters' pov's to do that. Holly actually writes Fae as what they're supposed to be - actual different creatures from humans with different ways of thinking and feeling. I read somewhere that humans have black vs white morality they navigate, while the fair folk have orange vs blue morality. It's not the same for them, and yet, ones who are actually evil are easily distinguishable. Holly manages to pull that off beautifully. The writing in that regard is masterful. I would also say that Jude and Taryn have adapted to and adopted orange vs blue morality in their own ways. Which translates in them seeking security in the world that's not designed for them, as well as their ambitions.

SJM, on the other hand, writes Fae as way too powerful, constantly horny, conventionally hot people. There is no orange vs blue or even grey morality, they're just selfish people with victim complexes. Their backstories serve as an excuse, not as an explanation. Everyone yaps about how powerful they are but always need their asses saved. PTSD is written unrealistically and the author only whips it out when she needs it. Characters' grand gestures of growth feel shallow since they always go back on their words or ignore the actual root of problems. Faerie folklore is not properly explored, random mythology is tossed in, plot bends backwards to make the perfect ending for protagonists...I would call it porn with plot except the smut isn't even good.

SJM also can't write politics, so instead she feeds her readers propaganda so they won't question the rulers' incompetence and incapacity to make a change in centuries. The whole thing feels like a parody of making fun of filthy rich people. It would be at least somewhat clever if it was.

Lastly, a shout-out to Margaret Rogerson for writing the best and loveliest way I've seen about what it's like to give up humanity to become Fae and grapple with remaining humane in her book An Enchantment of Ravens. Fair warning though, the book is pure fluff, no smut.

[eelhound]

"I think Homer outwits most writers who have written on the War [fantasy archetype], by not taking sides.

The Trojan war is not and you cannot make it be the War of Good vs. Evil. It’s just a war, a wasteful, useless, needless, stupid, protracted, cruel mess full of individual acts of courage, cowardice, nobility, betrayal, limb-hacking-off, and disembowelment. Homer was a Greek and might have been partial to the Greek side, but he had a sense of justice or balance that seems characteristically Greek — maybe his people learned a good deal of it from him? His impartiality is far from dispassionate; the story is a torrent of passionate actions, generous, despicable, magnificent, trivial. But it is unprejudiced. It isn’t Satan vs. Angels. It isn’t Holy Warriors vs. Infidels. It isn’t hobbits vs. orcs. It’s just people vs. people.

Of course you can take sides, and almost everybody does. I try not to, but it’s no use; I just like the Trojans better than the Greeks. But Homer truly doesn’t take sides, and so he permits the story to be tragic. By tragedy, mind and soul are grieved, enlarged, and exalted.

Whether war itself can rise to tragedy, can enlarge and exalt the soul, I leave to those who have been more immediately part of a war than I have. I think some believe that it can, and might say that the opportunity for heroism and tragedy justifies war. I don’t know; all I know is what a poem about a war can do. In any case, war is something human beings do and show no signs of stopping doing, and so it may be less important to condemn it or to justify it than to be able to perceive it as tragic.

But once you take sides, you have lost that ability.

Is it our dominant religion that makes us want war to be between the good guys and the bad guys?

In the War of Good vs. Evil there can be divine or supernal justice but not human tragedy. It is by definition, technically, comic (as in The Divine Comedy): the good guys win. It has a happy ending. If the bad guys beat the good guys, unhappy ending, that’s mere reversal, flip side of the same coin. The author is not impartial. Dystopia is not tragedy.

Milton, a Christian, had to take sides, and couldn’t avoid comedy. He could approach tragedy only by making Evil, in the person of Lucifer, grand, heroic, and even sympathetic — which is faking it. He faked it very well.

Maybe it’s not only Christian habits of thought but the difficulty we all have in growing up that makes us insist justice must favor the good.

After all, 'Let the best man win' doesn’t mean the good man will win. It means, 'This will be a fair fight, no prejudice, no interference — so the best fighter will win it.' If the treacherous bully fairly defeats the nice guy, the treacherous bully is declared champion. This is justice. But it’s the kind of justice that children can’t bear. They rage against it. It’s not fair!

But if children never learn to bear it, they can’t go on to learn that a victory or a defeat in battle, or in any competition other than a purely moral one (whatever that might be), has nothing to do with who is morally better.

Might does not make right — right?

Therefore right does not make might. Right?

But we want it to. 'My strength is as the strength of ten because my heart is pure.'

If we insist that in the real world the ultimate victor must be the good guy, we’ve sacrificed right to might. (That’s what History does after most wars, when it applauds the victors for their superior virtue as well as their superior firepower.) If we falsify the terms of the competition, handicapping it, so that the good guys may lose the battle but always win the war, we’ve left the real world, we’re in fantasy land — wishful thinking country.

Homer didn’t do wishful thinking.

Homer’s Achilles is a disobedient officer, a sulky, self-pitying teenager who gets his nose out of joint and won’t fight for his own side. A sign that Achilles might grow up someday, if given time, is his love for his friend Patroclus. But his big snit is over a girl he was given to rape but has to give back to his superior officer, which to me rather dims the love story. To me Achilles is not a good guy. But he is a good warrior, a great fighter — even better than the Trojan prime warrior, Hector. Hector is a good guy on any terms — kind husband, kind father, responsible on all counts — a mensch. But right does not make might. Achilles kills him.

The famous Helen plays a quite small part in The Iliad. Because I know that she’ll come through the whole war with not a hair in her blond blow-dry out of place, I see her as opportunistic, immoral, emotionally about as deep as a cookie sheet. But if I believed that the good guys win, that the reward goes to the virtuous, I’d have to see her as an innocent beauty wronged by Fate and saved by the Greeks.

And people do see her that way. Homer lets us each make our own Helen; and so she is immortal.

I don’t know if such nobility of mind (in the sense of the impartial 'noble' gases) is possible to a modern writer of fantasy. Since we have worked so hard to separate History from Fiction, our fantasies are dire warnings, or mere nightmares, or else they are wish fulfillments."

- Ursula K. Le Guin, from No Time to Spare, 2013.

[novy2sirius]

᭓ ྀུ༺ a degree theory by nikola stojanovic

please read before proceeding

important note: this is not my info. this is all from nikola stojanovic’s theory on degrees in astrology. he has books on it that i think you can find online and download for free

trigger warnings: murder, car crashes, sex, and suicide

sign degrees

zero degrees: 0°

the same characteristics as the sign it’s already placed in. example - aries venus at 0° is purely an aries venus, obviously aside from the house energy

aries degrees: 1°, 13°, and 25°

beginnings, leadership, taking action, fighting spirit, not giving oneself up to fate, struggle, war, abuse, labor, diligence, etc

taurus degrees: 2°, 14°, and 26°

food, money, stability, earth, luxuries, sound of voice, singing voice, etc

gemini degrees: 3°, 15°, and 27°

communication, self-expression, technology, books, siblings, neighbors, etc

cancer degrees: 4°, 16°, and 28°

home, traditions, nurture, loyalty, faith, mother, the ocean/water, etc

leo degrees: 5°, 17°, and 29°

life, children, attention, fame, creativity, strength, happiness, light, etc

virgo degrees: 6° and 18°

improvement, health, to diminish, routine, animals, acts of service, etc

libra degrees: 7° and 19°

harmony/fairness, charm, beauty, law, music, art, dancing, pleasures, etc

scorpio degrees: 8° and 20°

death, major transformation, wealth, jealousy, sex, secrecy, taxes, etc

sagittarius degrees: 9° and 21°

wisdom, abundance, college, travel, photography, success, beliefs, etc

capricorn degrees: 10° and 22°

hard work, fear, public attention, karma, father, boss, isolation, history, etc

aquarius degrees: 11° and 23°

unexpected experiences, technology, friendships, networking, divorce, etc

pisces degrees: 12° and 24°

spirituality, escapism, dreams, illusion, the sea, mysteries, the hidden, etc

special degree meanings

supreme power: 2°

this degree is often found in the charts of people with remarkable achievements, who had extreme power, and who were highly respected according to nikola’s research

eroticism/a fun life: 5°

many sex symbols like marilyn monroe have this in their chart. nikola believed this was the best degree in general as well. he thought it indicated lots of fun and pleasure in one’s life

suicide/divorce: 11° and 23°

according to nikola the aquarius degrees (11 and 23) both indicate divorce occurring when placed in prominent positions in the chart. 11 is the only one indicating suicide though

car accidents: 15°

nikola believed that when this degree was connected to 8th house or scorpio placements it could indicate getting into car crashes

pure evil: 18°

nikola believed that this degree indicated a negative destiny for someone. he thought it was the worst degree you could have in your chart, based on his research he thought it was solely about facing hardships and nothing more. he also believed it could indicate being an evil person with no good intentions

to kill or be killed: 22°

just as the title reads, nikola believed this degree indicates being killed or being a killer. another thing he believed it could indicate was abandonment in the area of life it’s placed

clairvoyance: 29°

nikola believed this degree indicates someone that has very good intuition and can make accurate predictions about the outcomes of events

my opinion on astrology degrees

i personally don’t believe in nikola’s theory 100%, although i do think there’s accuracy to the signs being associated with specific degrees. i have always had stronger belief in my numerstrology degree theory than anything when it comes to this subject though. i definitely do not believe 18° is fully negative like he claims since the universe is yin yang so there’s always both positive and negative ways things can manifest. these are just my thoughts though

do you believe nikola’s degree theory? comment below!

[jennifercheckapologist]

Playing House

Synopsis: literally just that scene from Jennifer's Body but hornier and with Ellie like I can't stress that this is just a hornier version of the scene from Jennifer's Body but badly written and hornier.

Warnings: not quite fingering, not quite grinding... a secret third thing ? mdni for... pretty obvious reasons; reader and Ellie are best friends (like Jennifer and Needy); Ellie's a little loser-ish but she figures out what she's doing; Ellie calls the reader mama... I don't wanna talk about it

Word Count: 673... I don't have much to say

On TLOU2 & Palestine

“We can play mommy and daddy like we used to.”

Ellie feels like she can’t move. You’ve managed to pin her in place with one sentence, your eyes wide as you look up at her like she could break your heart if she answers wrong. It’s not fair at all; you look incredible- like you belong here.

Your skin is glowing as you sit up on your knees in her bed. It’s mesmerizing, and she can’t figure out what’s appropriate to look at when you look like this, eyes all low and legs exposed, “Is that my Evil Dead T-Shirt?”

She watched you closely as you nodded back at her, your teeth sinking into your bottom lip. You weren’t even trying to play fair. Her mouth felt so dry she wasn’t sure if she should speak again- especially when all she could think about was the two of you back in middle school, practicing kissing and playing House under the covers of her childhood bed. She could feel the heat rising in her cheeks, god, this was so embarrassing.

She attempted to wet her lips as you crawled toward the edge of her bed to touch her. You placed your hands on her shoulders and leaned in to whisper into her ear, “We used to have so much fun together.”

You were right. She’d felt every inch of you over the years, tasted so much of you back when you were just exploring. You were her best friend long before you were gushing about the boys at school. And you were all grown up now, just like her. God, you were so pretty she needed to touch you and here you were, practically begging for her.

It was almost as if she’d been waiting for permission all night, and now she’d gotten it. She placed a hand between your thighs, “Oh, mama, are you all wet for me?”

You nodded back at her, your mind already fuzzy. This was just what you needed and she was always so warm, the feeling of her touching you was already too much. You would do anything she wanted at this point; everything was for her.

Ellie took her other hand and took hold of your jaw, forcing you to shake your head no instead, “I don’t know if I believe you.”

It’s amazing. One second you were on your knees, pulling her in, and the next you’re on your back and at her mercy. She’s so pretty like this, with a little wrinkle in the middle of her forehead as she concentrates on spreading you open. She’s already glowing from her sweat, cheeks ruddy and full and her tongue peeking out of her mouth as she thinks of what to do with you.

Now you’re the pathetic one, but you can’t even find it in you to be embarrassed. Instead, you’re whining her name like she’ll take pity on you if you hit the right note. Your back hurts from how hard it’s arching off of the bed when she decides to show enough mercy to press the heel of her palm right where you need it. You could cry when she doesn’t pull away when you lift your hips to grind into it.

Instead she coos at you like she’s doing you a favor. It’s too much and not enough but she’s whispering to you like a promise, “I know, mama. I’m gonna take care of you, I promise.”

You want to call her a liar. You don’t feel very taken care of, but then her fingers are spreading you open and there’s no point in arguing when you’re so close. Now you’re babbling. Begging for something you can’t quite identify- anything really. You’d give anything to cum but she’s toying with you like the sound of her fingers spreading your wetness- making such a mess- isn’t pure torture.

“Could make you a real mama,” She takes her fingers into her mouth before she begins to practically chastise you, “but you have to be patient.”

Housekeeping: I like never write smut or x reader fics, but I have needs and thoughts; this divider is from @saradika ; I believe @seattlesellie infected me with the "Ellie calling you mama" bug, but my memory is awful

sorry, God for writing this on Christmas Eve, tipsy a few hours before getting ready for a Candlelight service; I'm black and a femme lesbian and this is real Ellie focused so it doesn't matter, but it's my truth <3

[lych33dragoncookie]

Ooooohhh how glad I am he was characterized well this update. No, he doesn't hate himself. No, he doesn't feel any guilt for his own actions, past or present. No, he's really not all that sad, all things considered. Loneliness and sadness are, really, not exactly synonymous. Loneliness can very well manifest in other ways; as, in the end, it is an emptiness. A lack of something. How each person individually handles it is where it really varies. Shadow Milk Cookie, at his core, is angry. He's not sad, he doesn't feel guilt, remorse, regret, nothing of that sort. He's too caught up in his own little tangled web of contrivances and excuses he uses to bury any and all more rational feelings under childish sadistic urges! In his eyes, nothing that happens to him is fair, if he doesn't get his way, if he doesn't get exactly what he wants, it's not fair, he feels like he SHOULD have gotten what he wanted, like he should ALWAYS get exactly what he wants, and the only way he ever deals with any burden that MAY be on his mind, however briefly, is to lash out. Thrash, inflict pain, break shit, throw a little goddamn tantrum. He's already assumed, for so long, that he knows better, he SHOULD get what he wants, he's ALWAYS in the right, and if he can't get what he wants, he WILL take it by force.

He chooses to be this way, he SO desperately wants to be in control, he SO desperately wants a world that is strictly his', and that's just kind of inevitably a lonely road, since to him, no one will ever be important as he is to himself. And, for a moment there, he got his childish needs fulfilled; someone just like him, someone who can just as well be important, and do everything he wants them to do. Essentially; he just wants another of himself. He doesn't WANT actual love, any actual meaningful relationships, he just wants someone JUST like him. Never have his views or beliefs contested, never have to change. That won't fix the loneliness, but he doesn't care. He doesn't WANT it to be fixed. He just wants to have all his own petty little urges met.

He is awful. He is positively, extremely, irredeemably awful. But he is human. And that alone, the fact that there are feelings there that will inevitably rise up for anyone in his position, no matter how absolutely irrevocably and horribly evil, is enough for someone like Pure Vanilla to hold on to hope. Somewhat misguided hope, yes, but hope nonetheless; the very thing that makes every facet of his being. They may remain opposites and apart for all of time. After all, both of them choose to be opposites, both knowing what they could be if they didn't choose to. They both wish they weren't this way, that they could be on the same page, but they very well may never be. And that's both their choices to make.

God this update was fucking good.