#it is extreamly powerfull to me

[lucyskywalker]

This will be critical towards 600 strikes. Don't like, don't read.

"Oh, but Dyomedes stabbed a god..."

The last time I checked this story is not about Dyomedes and the God in question wasn't Poseidon.

The context and message behind the myth is completely different. Actually, the message behind Dyomedes duel with Ares and Aphrodite is the opposite. It's to establish one of the main themes of the epic: how human choices and efforts become insignificant when fate and immortals are in control.

Dyomedes myth only proofs that if Poseidon wanted Odysseus dead for good, he would be dead. End of the story.

Odysseus was punished by his Hubris. Like Lesser Ajax was before him, like Niobe and her children also were slain by Apollo and Artemis.

It wasn't just a torturing journey for some petty reason.

It was a lesson.

And when he learned that lesson, he went back home.

Using Dyomedes to defend what happend in 600 strikes is literally absurd.

"Oh, but Poseidon deserved it."

The fact you say that proofs u don't know shit about Greek Mythology and how it is deeply rooted in how this ancient society worked and worshipped those gods.

Poseidon didn't deserve any of this. Not within this myth.

Odysseus was the one who committed Hubris, over and over again during his journey.

Odysseus was the one who believed to be above the gods due his witty and cunning nature.

Odysseus was the one who put his crew in danger because of his own pride more than once.

Odysseus was the one to harm Poseidon's son and left him alive in an act of mockery during the Odyssey.

Even during the retelling of Jorge in Epic the musical, many things Odysseus have done are pretty much debatable and are the roots of all his problems.

Even in Jorge's retelling, he stablishs angering the gods is not a good idea. Like in the song Munity, when Eurylochos kills Apollo's cows (or Hellio's).

Even before it, he established that not hearing them or going against them is not smart choice.

My Goodbye and Remember Me.

Odysseus tought he was wiser than Athena for showing mercy. But the fact is... he wasn't and he paid the price for believing such thing. Which can also be depicted as a consequence of Hubris.

It happend again during his entire journey later on. Odysseus choose to go to the underworld to avoid Poseidon. He choose to sacrifice six of his remaining men to not face Poseidon.

Because Poseidon is that much of a threat. It is a force of nature so powerfull, Odysseus cannot expect to face it.

Later, in Thunder Bringer, once again we are reminded of how powerfull, mighty and terrifying the gods truly are

Making some kind of final battle between Odysseus and one of the eldest gods, where he ends not only torturing Poseidon, but also commanding him, and somehow gets out alive, not only goes against all his journey lessons and everything the Odyssey is about, but it is also extreamly ooc of Jorge's own writing.

Odysseus never rellied on strength and a face to face battle to win.

Actually, he is "a warrior of the mind". He rellies on strategies and deceptions. He was never meant to be like Herakles nor Achilles.

And be helped by the ghosts of his dead crew? When he is pretty much the reason why they are, uk, dead? Even if they were willing to help, how did they left the Underworld? By a bus of ghosts?

What is Hades doing? Throwing a party?

I'm not even going to debate the jetpack stuff.

You can say whatever you want to apologize the writing be it "the fates wanted that way, so it doesnt matter", "he won because of Ares's blessing".

Whatever. You just crossed the line of an adaptation to a straigh up fanfiction.

Study the classics about the tale you so claim to love instead of saying so many things with no basis with so much pride.

[izayoichan]

“Pretty good, even Hayden and Vy got a shoot today.”

Vy starts preparing the sauce for the pizza, he's a bit sluggish but does it well nonetheless, and with Rylan's and Hayle’s, he remains alert. 

“Yes. We dressed like princes! It was fun! And I met Carl.” “Carl huh... I guess that was less fun?” “Yeah, Carl is less fun!” “Indeed.”

Hayle finishes making the dough,  kneading it well, quite liking this form for cooking as it gets out some aggression on the side. 

“Does this mean we get to see pictures? Normally when these things happen, you get to take them home, right?” “Yep, Madelene will send them later on.”

Vy hesitates and shrugs his shoulders. 

“He’s big. Taller than me. Maybe as tall as Hayden and Hayden is pretty tall! It's weird though. He looks a bit scary but hazy... I don't know what to make of him... But I didn't like him. He upset Rylan which upset Hayden.

He puts the sauce on the dough Hayle has finished kneading and rolling out. 

“So, what toppings do we want?” “Hmh... I have seen that sometimes too, the haze, but then the next time he seems normal.. if the guy has a normal.”

He shakes his head again, taking out every topping they would normally have on their pizza. 

“Upset Rylan?”

Hayle looks at Rylan wondering what this is about 

“He is just dumb... that's all. “

Hayle not looking quite pleased with the answer, but leaves it be.

“Toppings... hmh, well Hayden likes Pineapple, Rylan hates it.. so half and half on that maybe. Other than that, some meat, mushrooms and... hmmmh…. and of course cheese?” “Yes!”

Vy starts generously putting cheese on the pizza while Rylan sets the other ingredients then divides the pizza by half, putting pineapple on one half and not on the others. 

“Can you put it on the oven please?” “Yep!”

Hayle takes the pizza and puts it into the oven, motioning for Vy to sit down, by pulling out a chair. 

“I'll clean up, Rylan will cut potatoes and make bearnaise on the side, you just watch us and tell us when we do something wrong.”

Hayle chuckles as he hears Rylan mumble something about pineapple on pizza as he shakes his head and gets to work on the chips, they had bought a fryer to make them, a hot air one, and well, bearnaise, on the other hand, he had learned to do fairly well now, so he hoped he would manage without asking Vy. Vy just watches them, cook with a smile, happy to see Rylan has gotten a lot better at it, actually starts dozing off, coming to rather startled when he nearly hits his head on the island counter. He blinks confused, then ashamed when he notices Hayle looking at him. 

“... Humm…” “ You need to sleep Vy…”

Hayle has finished cleaning up, looking at Vy worriedly. 

“Tonight I am staying with Hayden, and you are getting a decent night’s sleep.” “You really do need to care for yourself Vy, as much as I love you caring for my brother... you really do need to sleep, or well moonlight, sunbath, something.” “I'm okay... I'm okay! Honest, just a little tired... I... “

He fidgets a little. Doesn't like the idea of leaving Hayden alone. What if Hayden needs healing during the night, what if he starts... drifting again and this time he isn't there to call him back. What if his heart stops? He doesn't voice his worries, but the orange glow is enough to say the worries going through his mind. 

Hayle walks over to him and hunches down so their eyes meet.

“He will be fine, he isn't that bad now, and you need rest Vy, I promise if anything happens, Chris will get you to him immediately, is that okay?”

He knows he worries, and he knows why, but he also knows that part of taking care of someone so sick as Hayden is taking care of himself as well.

“I just want you to rest, I'm worried about you.” “But... “

Vy looks down and sighs. He didn't want to confess, but he was always tired. 

“I'll sleep... I don't want to worry you, mister Hayle. I'll sleep, but you promise you'll get me if anything happens?”

“I promise, and you will have to do this a little more often from now on, it's not going to do anyone any good with you walking around like a zombie half the time.”

He puts a hand on Vy's shoulder, before he walks over to the oven to check on the pizza, the smell already spreading through the kitchen. 

“If you want, Chris can stay with you, and if needed I'll call and he can take you to Hayden in a second?”

He looks over at Rylan, wishing he could do something for him too. - “How about I stay with him? I mean.. not as I sleep?” “We can both stay with him?” “Okay,”

He doesn't want to admit that he doesn't want to spend the night alone, thinking he is being a big baby, but part of what Carl said has stuck to his brain, and he knows what a night of worry brings another panic attack. 

“Okay, this is done, the chips will stay warm where they are, and I can go poke my brother while you to watch the Pizza.”

Vy nods, then realizes what Hayle means by Chris popping him there in the moment.

“No portals! Or teleporting! No! What if”

He stops himself. He knows Chris would never take him anywhere that wasn't safe, so why he even thought of that was beside him. He plays with his fingers.

“O-okay. I'll rest tonight.” “It won't be needed your room is next to his after all. Besides, he would only take you to Hayden regardless of the distance.

He smiles as he watches Vy. 

“You know I see you as one of my kids right?” 

Vy plays with his hands, feeling oddly safe with Hayle like he can talk to him, yet that scares him. 

“... my mo-... there was someone who told me that before too... She still called the hunters on me when she found out what I was...I'm sorry, I know you won't do that but... I don't really have any family here... no one to miss me if the hunters catch me, only Hayden. And I'm sorry, I want to believe you, and I believe you mister Hayle, but... it's like there's this little voice on the back of my mind reminding me, asking me "What if they call the hunters? Wouldn't be a first..."

Hayle looks at Vy, listening to him, slowly realizing a little more where all the insecurity comes from. 

“I see... I know that these are only words, that someone has lied to you before, but I promise you, we would never do that.”

He kneels down next to him, taking his hands, squeezing them gently.

“I hope that one day you will trust us, but until then, we'll just keep proving your worries wrong. And, you are wrong in one assumption, Hayden would miss you, Rylan would miss you, Me and Chris would miss you. Lobo and Felix would miss you, and…”

He makes sure their eyes meet. 

“Chris would find you, and we would bring you home to us, no low life hunter is kidnapping my child.”

Beginning - Previous - Next

[slashingdisneypasta]

Feeling kinda dumb asking this tbh. Not sure if you even watched TVD, but in case you did, you know how Bonnie uses Expression Magic which is considered extreamly dark and powerful form of magic (I mean, she literally destroyed hell!) do you mind writing Freddy x victim!reader oneshot where he mets a witch who also practices Expression and is extreamly powerfull? He tries to kill her at first obviously

Omg, this one started out so light hearted but oh my god.

Don't feel dumb!! Its a good ask!! I do watch TVD, and I hope you like this ^^ 

~~~

I wake up the same way I have for the past 3 weeks. With messy hair, slashes through my favourite pyjama shirt and a finger in my hand- well, it isn’t always a finger. Sometimes its an ear, a portion of his ugly sweater, his hat, once even his eyeball. You get the picture though. Unimpressed, I watch the finger turn to gunky, dirty dust. Then promptly get up and tiredly get out the vacuum cleaner to clean up the mess.

Once I’m done, I put the vacuum back in its cupboard down the hall, which at this point I could totally do just from muscle memory and no other senses due to how often this month I’ve ripped something of Freddy’s back out into the real world in my attempt to take him out and kill him off the clean way.

But, I take a deep breath and let it out, exhausted and resigned, as I pull on pants and search through my closet for a shirt to wear out today. I guess I’m going to have to do it the hard way.

Finally, I discard the ruined shirt and wrench on a clean, yellow t-shirt and leave my house.

___TIME SKIP___

“Hey, Bernard,” I beam towards the grassy haired barista. The café’s basically empty, apart from a group of teenagers watching Netflix and Disney plus on their laptops and phone sin the far corner, so I think we’re fine to talk. He looks up from the mug he was drying out, sees my expression and promptly scoffs. Immediately he starts down the bar, past the glass case with all the sweets inside including a delicious jelly slice with lavender for safety that I get when I come here for breakfast, rounds it, and comes all the way to stand very close to me. He holds up his pointer finger between us sternly, almost mad and I focus instead on his hair rather then his face. It really is grassy- not because he’s been playing footy which he likely was before he came to work and not just because its green. Its messy, and multiple shades of different, environmental green. Representing his element.

“Don’t you dare.”

I sigh, and roll my eyes as I sit down in a bar stool, successfully putting space between us as he doesn’t move. “Its kind of a dire situation.”

“A demon?” He doesn’t look at all like it would change his mind on the subject of my using magic if it were a demon. Which it is.

“Yes.”

“What kind?”

“The kind that draws strength from attention, lets move on.” Again, I roll my eyes. Not at Bernard though, this time its Freddy. Yes, he totally is that kind of demon. Not even just because he needs people to believe he exists to work. He’s just an attention whore.

Bernard crosses his arms and rolls his shoulders back, more than expressing his parents’ shared fire element. And, also, his cranky streak. “You will not use magic.”

“I’ve tried doing it the easy way. I’ll be safe, I promise.”

“I’m not worried about you, I’m worried about your neighbours, and the rest of the known universe if you fuck up. Actually, scratch that. Unknown universe, too.”

“I’m not asking you for permission anyway. Just- come on, gimmie the book.” I hold out my hand, looking around for where he could possibly be hiding it. Cupboards? Behind the cupboards? Has he digitised it? He just continues to glower, and its so forceful that I lower my hand and pout. He’s always been the scary cousin in our family.

“Oh, you so are asking me for permission. You don’t know where the book is!” He sneers, and I deadpan deeply at his immaturity.

“Look, Ber, we’re grown adults. Grown! Ass! Adults! I can make my own decisions, now- where is the book?”

“No!”

“Gimmie!”

“I’m older than you, and I say no!”

“Berrrrrrrr- Oh hi Boyd.” I pause in glaring at my Bernard to look at his brother, Boyd walk by from the upstairs apartment, clipping the vizor attachment to his glasses as he’s going out. He looks boredly at me smiling at him and keeps going to the door with an old-fashioned bell fixed to the top.

“You’re here for the grimoire?” He asks, opening the door and turning over his shoulder, and I nod sweetly- he’s sure to be more helpful! “Yeah, Bernard lost it. Hid it so well even he cant find it anymore. Now, I have a date.” He leaves the, now very tense and cold café with a curt, “Later.”

Slowly… I turn to Bernard. He is now avoiding eyecontact. He misplaced… our families… century old… grimoire??! “Find. It.”

Having a change of heart, he heads behind the counter again with a lowered head. “Oof, I’m on it.”

It must take hours, before I give up looking alongside him and sit down to take a rest. The teenagers have gone by now, and Bernard turned the ‘Open’ sign on the front window around to say ‘Closed’. I don’t know how it happened, but at some point, I rest my head on the bench and the exhaustion from not getting full rest for weeks catches up to me, and I fall asleep.

“Back so soon?”

I jump. “Gah!” Turning around to where the voice came from and I see Freddy- clearly, not in a creative mood because otherwise he wouldn’t have appeared so quick. “Why are you here?!”

“This is my domain, sweetheart.” Freddy explains, something I already knew and he knows I already know and I groan.

“It’s the middle of the day! Can’t I have this one moment to sleep in peace??” A wide smile spreads across his face, and I slouch over. Course not. Oh god, I am so tired. Another yell escapes me though, exhaustion making me incredibly jumpy, when suddenly he appears beside me. Physical form and everything, I can feel the fuzz of his sweater on my arm. “Don’t touch me.” I flash him a glare, not daring him. Definitely not daring him- he’ll take it. Just telling him to back the fuck off because I’m tired not only from his unfaltering ability to keep me busy and working, even when I’m asleep, and also now because my dear older, moronic cousin has lost our grimoire which was entrusted to him, which I need to get rid of Freddy, in order to sleep and actually feel rested!

Oh, my goodddddd, I would do almost anything right now to dream about stupid normal stuff like flying, or running from an encroaching car, or falling. Even falling, which wakes you up. At least I can fall right back to sleep.

“Okay, now, see, if you tell me that, I’ll just wanna do the opposite! ~” The clawed glove nears my face and my right eye twitches, but I stand still there with my arms crossed and glare at it. The rusty, nearly black metal nearing my eyes, reflecting the sharp, gross grin on Freddy’s burnt face.

“So, its opposite day then?” I ask, humouring him because what else are you going to do? When he gets bored, he’s even more dangerous.

“Yep!” Visibly, the stripe sin his sweater switch places so its green and red, and not red and green. He thinks he’s funny.

And, clearly I’m exhausted otherwise I never would’ve fallen for that. “Then please touch me Fredrick.” As soon as the words leave my mouth, raucous laughter escapes him, and he holds his belly as he doubles over and laughs. I groan and dig the heels of my hands into my eyes. I need to wake up. “Out of all the obnoxious murderers out there… “I got the worst of the lot.

“Yep, you got me. Now, let’s stop fucking around shall we? Let’s get to the good stuff!”

“Oh no.” I half groan, half whine in dread and fear. Suddenly, the fact that I fell asleep feels like stupidest move ever- at any time, he might kill me. Its just blind luck that he hasn’t felt like ending the game so far. But he could at any time, including this time.

Freddy disappears again, and I whip around to look for him. My heart starts to beat thunderously in my chest because nothing good has ever occurred when Freddy disappears. I’ve been shot, I’ve been crushed under a stone slab, I’ve been choked with 80’s twisted telephone phone cables- I’ve even been kissed. And every time, I get closer to dying. I lose oxygen, I lose blood, I lose morale. Every time I get hurt, Freddy takes me closer to death then before and I think I’m actually gone this time. He’s bored, I’m not enough anymore, the torture is over.

Which is both a relief and even more horrifying then anything else. Tears cluster in my eyes as time goes by and nothing happens. I just see the boiler room around me, everything tinted red and everything damp and shiny with grease and rust. I don’t want to die.

Suddenly, smoke starts to fill the room. Until I can’t see anything at all except the white in front of me and my hand if I would raise it, but I don’t. I just stay very still, afraid of what’s about to happen. “Fr-Freddy?” I call, weak and disappointing myself. I’m a fucking witch… but that doesn’t really mean much in this world. Not without the spell that I need from the grimoire that’s nowhere to be found. I’m a witch, and I’ve raised to think that means something, means I’m a force to reckoned with, but here I am being reckoned with and I’m useless.

The ground underneath me starts to vibrate, and the smoke slowly starts to clear.

I squint, but I can’t see much through the remaining smoke and the tears shielding my eyes except a bright light.

The vibrating gets worse, and I look down and notice that the smoke has cleared enough at the point to see what beneath my feet, and the realisation of what’s there makes fear swarm throughout every crevice of my being. Mind, body and soul.

Train tracks.

My head snaps up again to see the light, a train, barrelling closer and closer to me. It’s so loud now that I’ve realised, I’m about get his by a fucking steam train, that my ears pop and protest to the pain of it all. The train gets closer and there’s Freddy. The fucker. Wearing a conductor’s uniform and hanging out the side of the driver’s compartment. He grins and waives.

I try to use rational sense and move out of the way, but rope shoots out of the earth between the tracks and twists tightly over my shoes. I try to wrench my feet out of my shoes, panicking now as the train tracks are practically jumping, but the ripe starts to climb… higher and higher up and around my legs and my hip and my arms, until I can’t move at all. It’s so tight I can’t barely even breath- not that I’ll need to for much longer.

I brace myself, and squeeze my eyes shut against the now blinding, all-encompassing brightness of the trains light. And then the train hits-

“FOUND IT!”

I’m wrenched suddenly, and violently from my sleep on the counter and straighten up so vigorously that I nearly slip right off the bar stool. There’s drool on the bench from my sleep, my cheek feels stiff from resting on it for a while, and whip around to look at Bernard who’s standing beside me now with the leather bound, yellow paged book that he’s found. I snatch it from his fingers, dropping it on the bench and start frantically looking through it, eyes still filled with tears and now they start falling. I slap a hand over my mouth, stifling the heavy sob that racks my back and shoulders and mouth from the shock and horror of what just nearly happened. I can still see fuzzy blue dots in my vision from the light, and my nose tingles because the train just touched. It smelled like smoke and coal and that’s still in my nose. Theirs white scrapes on my wrists from the rough rope.

“Y/N,” Bernard touches my arm and I don’t push him off, but I don’t respond, either. I barely notice him, too preoccupied with looking for the right spell. I need this to be over, that can’t happen to me again! I’m not brave enough for it. Another terrible sob forces its way from my chest and I feel half like curling into my cousins chest and crying my heart out and half like killing that bastard Freddy. Wrenching his entire nasty existence from unwritten history and tearing it so it will never be salvaged again.

The second half wins, as I go back through the book backwards, and this time find the spell. “Ow-Okay.”

“Y/N, take a moment- “

“No,” I snap. I nearly got h i t, by a t r a i n. A monstrous thing the same colour as Freddy’s blades. Bernard can’t understand that, but I sure as fuck can. Stammering, but sure, I start to recite the incantation under my breath. Slowly it gets louder, as words start to become harder to say and I need concentrate more. Latin mixes together into one big word, and its har don the best of days but when there’s expression magic involved, it takes an army. More.

And I am that, right now.

Bernard looks around as wind, not coming from an open door or window, starts picking up in this room and rushes to shut the curtains and block the rest of the world from seeing in. Napkins go flying, then the chairs topple over, and then finally the wind is so strong that coffee maker rips from the wall and smashes into the glass sweets case.

I don’t see it, because I’m still following the words in the book, but I hear it. But only just, over the terrible wind screaming through my ears. Finally, the spell reaches its peak and the air in front of Bernard and me, who has gotten back to where I am, opens up. Like someone took a knife and tore literally through the fabric of space and time and magic, revealing the familiar boiler room.

The words start to speak on their own. Whispering in the wind and my lips don’t even have to move, so I let Bernard take the book. Its all so chaotic, I don’t know how I know what to do. But I reach forward and just, lightly touch the hole and its like the magic knows exactly what I want.

Dirty dust, like what Freddy turns into when you bring out of a piece of him from the dream world that I’ve been vacuuming for the past weeks appears, connects together into the shape of a man and then twists together slowly, disturbingly like vines until it isn’t dust and vines anymore. Its burnt flesh and knitted, red and green cotton.

And he looks mad. “You bitch.” Is all he manages to say, but it’s got so much hatred and fury in it that I nearly get scared. I feel it creeped into my bones and organ in my chest.

But then I remember. This is my world.

And I don’t want him in it. “Get out.” I spit, and just like the world seems to crash. Eliminating an existence -anything. Much less a person, - is a lot of work and a big deal. It shouldn’t be possible at all, and I believe that. But I believe it like some who believe murder shouldn’t be possible.

But it is and sometimes it happens, in dire situations.

It feels like I’m being torn on the inside, and scraped clean on the outside- punishment, for doing such a thing. Something to make the world balanced for this.

And Freddy warps like The Scream or a computer glitch. Half of him gong up and the other half going down. Its horrifying sight and I’m in so much pain, but I make my eyes stay open.

And then everything goes black.

___TIME SKIP: A Week___

The whole week has gone by like dream. Not a Freddy dream. Not even a happy dream. Just, like its unreal. I don’t feel much, except a slow, soft blankness like when you’re totally out of it in class after a really, really bad day.

Its not particularly a bad feeling, not compared to the horrors I endured before. Its just like I need to rest, after I used so much power, and feeling so much in general.

Oh, and I have. I’ve been sleeping all the time. Day and night. It’s been uninterrupted and nearly… empty, feeling. Bizarly, I’m well aware now when I’m asleep that I’m dreaming. I’m lucid. Like when Freddy would be there, but without him. Its not exactly restful, but still. It’s better than the nightmares.

Right now, I’m going to sleep. Feeling tiredness expand and unconsciousness take over.

Immediately, I nearly jolt right awake again from fear. Nearly. But his hand grips onto my arm before I can.

Freddy’s right in front of me, smiling sharp like a much madder, pissed off the Cheshire cat. “Heya again sweetheart.” His voice sounds too real. His touch feels to real. This cant be- “It took a fucking lot. Pulled a few strings, don’t know how. Don’t ask. But I’m back. Don’t worry though, I’m not about to kill you. That was a real neat trick you pulled… “I jump, and whimper when the a blade on his glove touches my cheek, and he leans much closer.

“So, we have a lot to talk about.”

You didn’t think you could rid of this Slasher, did you?