#me with every epithet character ever

[sadsoftserve]

You forgot the violent shaking we do

many such cases

[santacoppelia]

Putting the Meta in "Metatron"

(couldn't resist the pun, sorry)

Ok, this has been tickling my brain for a while. I've been thinking about how The Metatron designed his role and discourse specifically to manipulate Aziraphale into the end result we saw in the last minutes of S2. I become obsessed with it because… well, I'm a bit obsessive, but also because there were many really smart writing decisions that I loved (even when I despise The Metatron exactly for the same reasons. Hate the character, love the writer). If you haven't watched Good Omens Season 2, this is the moment to stop reading. Come back later!

We already know that in Book Omens, the role of Gabriel in the ending was occupied by The Metatron. Of course, the series introduced us to Gabriel and we won a lot by that, but I feel that the origins of The Metatron should be considered for any of this. He is not a "sweet old man": he was the one in charge of seeing over the operation of Armageddon; not just a stickler of rules, but the main promoter for it.

However, when he appears in the series finale, we first are primed to almost pass him by. He is in the line for buying coffee, using clothes that are:

obviously not tailored (almost ill fitted)

in dark tones

looking worn and wrinkled

This seems so important to me! All the angels we have seen are so proud of their aspect, wear clear (white or off white) clothes, pressed, impeccable (even Muriel), even when they visit the Earth (which we have already seen on S1 with all the visits to the bookshop). The Metatron chose a worn, comfortable attire, instead. This is a humanized look, something that fools all the angels but which would warm up someone very specific, can you guess?

After making quite a complicated coffee order (with sort of an affable and nervous energy), he makes a question that Crowley had already primed for us when asking Nina about the name of the coffee: having a "predictable" alternative and an unpredictable one.

This creates an interesting parallel with the next scene: Michael is discussing the possibility of erasing Aziraphale from The Book of Life (a punishment even worse than Holy Water on demons, because not having existed at all, EVER is definitely worse than having existed and ceased to exist at some point) when The Metatron arrives, interrupts the moment and signals having brought coffee. Yup, an amicable gesture, but also a "not death" offering that he shows clearly to everyone (even when Michael or Uriel do not understand or care for it. It wasn't meant for them). He even dismisses what Michael was saying as "utter balderdash" and a "complete piffle", which are the kind of outdated terms we have heard Aziraphale use commonly. So, The Metatron has put up this show for a specific audience of one.

The next moment on the script has Metatron asking Crowley for the clarification of his identity. Up to this moment, every angel has been ignoring the sprawled demon in the corner while discussing how to punish Aziraphale… But The Metatron defers to the most unlikely person in the room, and the only one who will push any buttons on Aziraphale: Crowley. After that, Aziraphale can recognize him, and Metatron dismisses the "bad angels" (using Aziraphale's S1 epithet) with another "catchy old phrase", "spit spot", while keeping Muriel at the back and implying that there is a possibility to "check after" if those "bad angels" have done anything wrong.

Up to this moment, he has played it perfectly. The only moment when he loses it is when he calls Muriel "the dim one", which she ignores… probably because that's the usual way they get talked to in Heaven. I'm not sure if Aziraphale or Crowley cared for that small interaction, but it is there for us (the audience) to notice it: the sympathy the character might elicit is built and sought, but he is not that nice.

After that, comes "the chinwag" and the offer of the coffee: the unnecessarily complicated order. It is not Aziraphale's cup of tea (literally), but it is so specific that it creates some semblance of being thought with care, and has a "hefty jigger" of syrup (again with the funny old words). And, as Aziraphale recognizes, it is "very nice!" (as The Metatron "jolly hoped so"), and The Metatron approves of him drinking it by admitting he has "ingested things in my time, you know?". This interaction is absolutely designed to build a bridge of understanding. The Metatron probably knew that the first response he would get was a "no", so he tailored his connection specifically to "mirror" Aziraphale: love of tasty human treats he has also consumed, funny old words like the ones he loves, a very human, worn, well-loved look. That was the bait for "the stroll": the moment when Aziraphale and Crowley get separated, because The Metatron knew that being close to Crowley, Aziraphale would have an hypervigilant soundboard to check the sense of what he was going to get offered. That's what the nasty look The Metatron gives to Crowley while leaving the bookshop builds (and it gets pinpointed by the music, if you were about to miss it).

The next thing we listen from The Metatron is "You don't have to answer immediately, take all the time you need" in such a friendly manner… we can see Aziraphale doubting a little, and then comes the suggestion: "go and tell your friend the good news!". This sounds like encouragement, but is "the reel". He already knows how Crowley would react, and is expecting it (we can infer it by his final reaction after going back for Aziraphale after the break up, but let's not get ahead of ourselves shall we?). He even can work up Muriel to take care of the bookshop while waiting for the catch.

What did he planted in Aziraphale's mind? Well, let's listen to the story he has to tell:

"I don't think he's as bad a fellow… I might have misjudged him!" — not strange in Aziraphale to have such a generous spirit while judging people. He's in a… partnership? relationship? somethingship? with a demon! So maybe first impressions aren't that reliable anyway. The Metatron made an excellent job with this, too.

"Michael was not the obvious candidate, it was me!" — This idea is interesting. Michael has been the stickler, the rule follower, even the snitch. They have been rewarded and recognized by that. Putting Aziraphale before Michael in the line of succession is a way of recognizing not only him, but his system of values, which has always been at odds with the main archangels (even when it was never an open fight).

"Leader, honest, don't tell people what they want to hear" — All these are generic compliments. The Metatron hasn't been that aware of Aziraphale, but are in line with what would have been said of any "rebel leader". They come into context with the next phrase.

"That's why Gabriel came to you, I imagine…" — I'm pretty sure The Metatron didn't imagine this, ha. He is probably imagining that the "institutional problem" is coalescing behind his back, and trying to keep friends close, but enemies closer… while dividing and conquering. If Gabriel rebelled, and then went searching for Aziraphale (and Crowley, they are and item and he knows it), that might mean a true risk for his status quo and future plans.

Heaven has great plans and important projects for you — this is to sweeten the pot: the hefty jigger of almond syrup. You will be able to make changes! You can make a difference from the inside! Working for an old man who feels strangely familiar! And who recognizes your point of view! That sounds like the best job offer of the world, really.

Those, however, are not the main messages (they are still building good will with Aziraphale); they are thought out to build the last, and more important one:

Heaven is well aware of your "de facto partnership" with Crowley…

It would be considered irregular if you wanted to work with him again…

You, and you alone, can bring him to Heaven and restore his full angelic status, so you could keep working together (in very important projects).

Here is the catch. He brought the coffee so he could "offer him coffee", but the implications are quite clear: if you want to continue having a partnership with Crowley, you two must come to Heaven. Anything else would be considered irregular, put them in a worst risk, and maybe, just maybe, make them "institutional enemies". Heaven is more efficient chasing enemies, and they have The Book of Life as a menace.

We already know how scared Aziraphale has always been about upsetting Heaven, but he has learned to "disconnect" from it through the usual "they don't notice". The Metatron came to tell him "I did notice, and it has come back to bite you". The implied counterpart to the offer is "you can always get death". Or even worse, nonexistence (we have already imagined the angst of having one of them condemned to that fate, haven't we?)

When The Metatron arrives, just after seeing Crowley leave the bookshop, distraught, he casually asks "How did he take it?", but he already knows. That was his plan all along: making them break up with an offer Aziraphale could not refuse, but Crowley could not accept. That's why he even takes the license to slightly badmouth Crowley: "Always did want to go his own way, always asking damn fool questions, too". He also arrive with the solution to the only objection Aziraphale would have: Muriel, the happy innocent angel that he received with so much warmth and kindness, is given the opportunity to stay on Earth, taking care of the bookshop. The only thing he would have liked to take with him is not a thing, and has become impossible.

If God is playing poker in a dark room and always smiling, The Metatron is playing chess, and he is quite good at it (that's why he loves everything to be predictable). He is menacing our pieces, and broke our hearts in the process… But I'm pretty sure he is underestimating his opponents. His awful remark of Muriel being "dim"; saying that Crowley "asks damn fool questions", and even believing that Aziraphale is just a softie that can be played like a pipe… That's why telling him the project is "The Second Coming" was an absolute gift for us as an audience, and it prefigures the downfall that is coming — the one Aziraphale, now with nothing to lose, started cooking in his head during that elevator ride (those couple of minutes that Michael Sheen gifted to all of us: the shock, the pain, the fury, and that grin in the end, with the eyes in a completely different emotion). Remember that Aziraphale is intelligent, but also fierce. Guildernstern commited a similar mistake in Hamlet, and it didn't go well:

"Why, look you now, how unworthy a thing you make of me! You would play upon me, you would seem to know my stops, you would pluck out the heart of my mystery, you would sound me from my lowest note to the top of my compass, and there is much music, excellent voice, in this little organ, yet cannot you make it speak. 'Sblood, do you think I am easier to be played on than a pipe? Call me what instrument you will, though you can fret me, you cannot play upon me."

I'm so excited to learn how this is going to unfold!! Because our heroes have always been very enthusiastic at creating plans together, failed miserably at executing them, and even then succeeding… But now they are apart, more frustrated and the stakes are even higher. Excellent scenario for a third act!

*exits, pursued by a bear*

[katerinaaqu]

Achilles and Patroclus: Friends Lovers or both? (An analysis based on Homeric Epics and some ancient sources)

Yet another analysis requested by my dearest friend @artsofmetamoor while we two explore the complexity of human relationships in our own projects including romantic relationships of various kinds, including homosexual and homoerotic material as well as more traditional notions of family and kinship along with the complexity of values such as companionship and friendship, which we hold in the same regard as in the above so here's one of the most discussed relationships in greek literature. Buckle up with me because it is gonna be a looooong ride!

Achilles and Patroclus are two figures of greek literature and mythology that sparked discussions and analysis from the very first time they were introoduced as characters in the homeric poems in 8th century BC and not for their heroics in Trojan War but rather the nature of their relationship. Not to mention in modern day times we also start the rather overused and kinda ridiculous joke of "Historians say" around. But there might be some truth in some concerns in regards to their relationship.

A small history of their family

Achilles and Patroclus were related by a distant ancestor, Aigina. Aigina had a son with Zeus named Aeacus who in turn got married and had Peleus, who has the father of Achilles. Patroclus comes from the same line for Aigina later marries Actor and has Menoetius with him. Menoetius marries his cousin Damocratea, also possible daughter of Zeus and had a son named Opus who in turn had Patroclus, making Patroclus and Achilles de facto first cousins by the line of Aegina

(Yes...sorry "Troy" haters out there...hahaha Patroclus really WAS Achilles's cousin! ^^; Not that it ever stopped anyone in greek mythology!)

Patroclus was ellegedly exiled from his homeland when he accidentally killed his playmate and he fled to the court of Peleus where he got adopted by him thus the two characters lived most of their childhood together. Patroclus by most accounts is quite older than Achilles so in a way he was also assigned not only as his playmate but also as his "squire" or protector in various occasions. Needless to say that of course the two of them developed a very strong bond together.

Greek Text

To be honest, every time some person who does support the theory of them being lovers is being asked on it and that person claims that "the greek text is quite simple really". Allow me to disagree though. It is not. Quite frankly if it were, it wouldn't have sparked the conversation even to ancient greeks themselves of their time!

Arguably Homer never explicitly describes them as lovers in his poems (as opposing to other figures in the text that are undoubtedly sharing sexual relationships in the Iliad such as Hera and Zeus, Paris and Helen or even, ironically Achilles with Briseis once she is returned to him). However one would be a liar if they denied certain insinuations of a romantic involvement betwen the heroes.

Φιλέω-ώ= to love < > φίλος=friend, companion (Substantive), beloved (epithet)

Quite frankly Homer as we said before he a master of words and none of his words is picked at random. And the term φίλος is no exception. The word is being explicitly used in Homer by various of characters. The term can be translated interchangably from either "friend" to "beloved" depending the context. One of the most infamous and touching moments this word is being used is at the lament of Achilles when his mother asks him to speak up on why he laments so hard:

With heavy groans, fast in feet Achilles responded to her: "Oh, my mother! The Olympians have done what they had predicted for me! But what joy remains for me, for my beloved comrade Patroclus is gone! I lost him! The one that I valued most among my other companions, equally to my own life!"

(Translation by me)

In here the concept of "φίλος" is clearly an epithet or plays the role of one since the actual word that we are looking for as a substantive is the word "ἑταῖρος" which stands for "companion" or "comrade" (a term used generally throughout the poems to indicate bonds in army or of friendship or even husband and wife at some cases). In here it clearly means "beloved" by the general text for the word "φίλος" is not used as a substantive. Other cases such as this appear in other parts of the poem even with the fullest form φίλτατος which means "the most beloved"

However it needs to be noted that the term φίλος as the essence of "friend" comes directly from this term "to love" which means someone "you are close with" someone "of your own kin" someone "dear to you". The ancient greeks do not seem to be making a distinction between love as in lovers and love as in family or relatives when using this verb and the words coming from it (one good example is Thetis referring to Achilles as "φίλον υἱὸν" which means "beloved son" and here has no romantic implications at all).

The term is being used interchangably throughout Homer to speak about characters with close relations of kinship that are not linked to romantic essences at all. For example the way Menelaus adresses Odysseus as such in the Odyssey:

Oh, how strange! That has come to my house the son of a man much beloved to me; who for my sake has suffered so many ordeals!

(Translation by me)

In here Menelaus again is usingthe term φίλος but he doesn't speak out of romantic intentions at all. He speaks with the warmest words but in here it is the most intimate form of friendship and kinship and is followed by the implication of gratefulness, how he adds up how Odysseus suffered "for his sake" aka to fight the war and be lost afterwards. And before someone says "it is not the same amount of warmth" one must think again because before Menelaus speaks about how because of the agony he feels for his friend he does not eat or sleep properly and given that it has been 10 years already since the last time they saw each other that is a damn long time.

But all of them I do not grieve as much, even if I mourn for them, as much as I do for one man, because of which I both detest sleep and neglect to eat, for there is no one of the Achaeans that suffered more than what Odysseus suffered and endured

(Translation by me)

So not only Menelaus feels like Odysseus suffered the most out of them (and strictly speaking one can look at fates of other heroes like Diomedes to see they are not far behind in suffering) but that the way he constantly wonders about his well-being makes him unable to sleep or eat and that seems to be happening for years and years which shows the true depth of their friendship.

So no, strictly speaking the word "to love" is not used by the greeks to imply only romantic love and it can be used pretty intimately even if it is not referring to romance. And the difference can be perceived by the same writer as well not just some play that was written several centuries later in which, inevitably, we could talk about some alterations of meaning to the words over the course of time

However there seems to be another phrase used to express intense feelings of love which is κεχαρισμένε θυμῷ which means "dear to my heart" and in Iliad ironically that phrase is spoken by no other than Briseis herself!

Oh, Patruclus! Dearest to my wretched heart!

(Translation by me)

This interesting shout of love coming from Briseis is also interesting for it could be implying both emotions of romantic love but also of affection in general. Which is another phrase that researchers have looked upon in search for hidden meanings of romance but once again it was often used either as such or with the term "φίλος" instead to speak of relationships of family or kinship. But grieving scenes such as the one of Briseis might also be indicator of romance although not exclusively referring to that.

The Lament

Quite frankly speaking, Achilles's lament is one of the most infamous and well-known in greek literature exactly because of its explicit nature. We do see characters lament in plays before but it is not as frequent to see lament SO strong coming from a male character and so openly (see for example in the Odyssey how Odysseus tries to hide his own tears many times or how his men are wrapped up in veils in lament for their own lives and their fallen comrades' but by n large the male lament is more subtle, more silent). Achilles is different. For example when he is first told about the news of Patroclus's death the result is nothing less but the ultimate emotional collapse:

So they spoke and black mist of distress covered him: With both his hands he gathered smoky sand and he poured it over his head and disfigured his face: his nectarous chiton turned black with ashes. And he himself dropped in the dirt and stretched over his lying (here: the corpse) friend/beloved pulling out his hair in lament. The slaves given as war price to Achilles and Patroclus, released a great cry of sadness and they approached all to the sides of mourning Achilles, beating their chests with their hands, and their knees each. Also Antilochus with them was lamenting and pouring tears holding the hands of Achilles: for he was moaning with his noble heart: worried that he would cut his throat with iron (here: a knife).

(Translation by me)

There is no words to express such an intense display of pain given by Achilles from second one when he receives the news of the death of Patroclus. He immediately pours ash over his head (quite a common trope for mourning done by many characters before.) and "disfiguring his face" which means he was digging his nails down his cheeks which was again a trope of mourning in greek literature. The intensity of his lament is so great that Antilochus feels the need to hold his hands just in case he would want to comit suicide in his pain!

Ironically for most part in this lament does it mention that Achilles was making any sound at all during the process, which somehow makes it even more disturbing to think that Achilles simply drops to his knees, covers himself in ashes and scratches his cheeks while lamenting over the body of Patroclus hardly making any sound at all. It is the slave women who arrive later that release the cries that undoubtedly are within the soul of Achilles. Somehow his lament is extreme and yet no audible hint exists for most part of the text EXCEPT the final one where it says "moaning with his noble heart". It almost seems that his body does most of the talking till the women arrive and cry out like he so much wants to and then his mouth also makes sounds. It is not a scream; it is a moan. It is possible of course that the clip refers to Achilles constantly moaning but I do like this as a possible food for thought that if Achilles was firstly responding to pain with his actions and then with his voice and in a way the moment he actually made a sound was the moment Antilochus truly began to worry!

There is a certain theatricality to this scene of lament and drama which of course as many analytics before me would say, it seems to be hinting to some other infamous laments of mythological characters and more specific the laments of Apollo. Apollo is one of those figures for whom we have no doubt he was lamenting his lovers and some classical examples are Hyakinthus and Cyparissus both of them transformed into a flower and a tree respectably. The associations of Achilles and the grieving god seem to be more than just a possibility here. Which of course enforces even further the idea of them being lovers. It is also the amount of time that Achilles mourns plus the intense way that he refuses to let go of the body of Patroclus to which he seems to be holding on from the 18th rhapsody when he first finds out of his death till the moment that she arrived with his armor one rhapsody later. Quite a gruesome scene is when she enters the tent and finds Achilles crying while clasping Patroclus onto him:

And she found her dearest son still lay there, clasping Patroclus and crying woefully and his comrades around him mourning

(Translation by me)

And at this point Thetis hasn't yet given nectar and ambrosia to the body of Patroclus to prevent the sepsis from happening, which happens a few lyrics later. So Achilles was holding the dead body for the entire day even after it was cleaned and prepared showing the intense pain Achilles was expressing and going through. And he seems unwilling to part from him till Patroclus's spirit itself arrives in his sleep and requests a burial so he can rest.

Of course it needs to be noted that intense lament is not exlusive to lovers in greek mythology. To name a few Athena grieves intensely the loss of her friend Pallas and by some accounts she does take her name as her epithet post-mortem. Antigone intensely mourns her dead brother and laments his disgrace when she finds that the ritual burial she performed had been disturbed. And the acting of killing oneself out of sorrow again is not strictly remaining to the love affairs. For example Ismene killing herself after learning the deaths of her family members in general and Antigone in particular. Another most prominient example is king Aegeus who throws himself into the sea when he sees the black sails of the ship coming from Crete, thinking his son was dead.

So the exessive expression of grief are not just dedicated to lovers or husbands and wives in greek literature but rather it is expanded to all people who mourn someone dear to them regardless of the nature of the bond between them. In the case of Achilles of course he does seem to be having a specially strong mental breakdown every time some important person in his life that is said to be romantically involved with him dies or is taken from him starting with Briseis for whom he expresses his emotions many times in the Iliad and she is the first reason of his anger, of course Patroclus and Penthesilea for whom he apparently has feelings for a few monets after he sees her face after she dies. In Posthomerica it is even said that his lamentover her dead body is "the same as the one over Patroclus" and of course Antilochus later according to the Epic Cycle when he died protecting his father, caused another explosion of anger to Achilles which was fated to be his last one.

It is possible since his love is clearly stated in the cases of Briseis and Penthesilea that the same can have occured for Antilochus and of course Patroclus which was the most heartbreaking of them all and for good reason. In fact the case of Patroclus seems to be that he plays every role in the life of Achilles. He is his friend, his companion, his squire, his advisor so why not his lover too.

The Same Urn

Now of course where people surely think they have a clear case of romantic bond seems to be the request of Patroclus to be burnt but his bones to be kept in the same urn that is to be used for Achilles as well. The passage happens in the 23rd rhapsody:

And one more thing I ask for you to excecute; do not place my bones apart from yours, Achilles, but together just like we were raised in your chambers, when I was brought to your land by Menetoios as a little boy from Opois because of the grievous manslaughter, for when I was a child I was foolish and killed the son of Amphidamas without wanting to, for I was mad over a game of dice: there I was accepted to the chambers of the horseman of Peleus who kindly took care of me and named me your squire. And the same way I want for my bones to be together with yours in the same golden box, the one your divine mother prepared for you.

(Translation by me)

So apart from the fact that it is a highly emotional scene, seeing your dead companion arriving at you and begging to be let go (this is literally Patroclus saying "Let me go, Achilles...just let me go" for Achilles literally refuses to give up his body not even for a burial) it is also the scene that seems to be winking to the fans of the idea of them being lovers as a proof that they are together. And quite frankly I can absolutely see why and it would be foolish to ignore this possibility especially given how tenderly Achilles calls him "my beloved" (or "as loved as my own life") after the whole request is done from the spirit of Patroclus which is more than clear indication for many accounts and that makes perfect sense.

The custom of co-burial was known in Greece from the earliest times of its civilization till the end (because quite honestly I am not sure the custom will stop existing in Greece since despite the lack of cremations, we still have the custom of common graves even if it is only for those who can afford have a family monument). We often find urns contain bones of multiple individuals and yes more often whatnot they are maritable partners and the obsession of words that mean "together" in this passage such as; "μή (...) ἀπάνευθε" (not apart), "ὁμοῦ" (at the same place, together) or "ἀμφικαλύπτω" (cover each other) seems to be pointing to the direction of a romantic relationship and it won't be the only time someone is co-relating the mingling of ashes and bones with "marriage" (and example is The Hunchback of Notre Dame, where Victor Hugo describes the way Quasimodo and Esmeralda's skeletons turn into inseparable dust as "Quasimodo's Marriage")

However on the counter-talk, co-burials were also common among family members (which is exactly what Achilles and Patroclus are). Ironically from the excavations to Mycenae several co-burials were discovered that were not related by blood but they were theorized to be connected to some relations of adoption (which again seems to fit the case of Achilles and Patroclus from the time Patroclus was brought in and ellegedly adopted by Peleus)

I am also convinced that the fact Patroclus gives us some good portion of his background story here was not just a random thing. It seems that Patroclus places emphasis on why he wants to be in the same urn as Achilles; because they were raised together, they were together all their lives and he wants them to be together in death as well. It absolutely could be a romantic insinuation on Patroclus's part however it seems equally possible that the background story serves as a lever to make the public understand how the two of them were raised together and wished to remain together. It almost feels like Homoer wants either to stimulate the idea that the past is an extra point towards their romantic relationship or yet another point of the closeness of their kinship or both (to me it seems the latter)

However another factor to this urn seems to be Antilochus. Antilochus who was close to the age of Achilles, the one who was in charge to bring the news of Patroclus's death to Achilles and the one that we saw consoling him and trying to prevent him from doing something foolish seems to be added to this circle. In fact in some future sources he is featured as the reason Achilles died, for he was driven in yet another furious attack against the Trojans, forcing them to fall back when he saw him fall dead protecting his father from the Ethiopian king Memnon. In some accounts, even possibly Homer included, is insinuated that Antilochus was also included in the funerary urn with Achilles and Patroclus although in the Odyssey it is clearly stated that his bones are not in it:

Your mother gave me this golden amphora (here an urn with two handles); a gift from Dionysus she said to me, made by the renounced Hephestus, in which lie your white bones, radiant Achilles, mixed with the ones of dead Patroclus son of Menoetius, but without Antilochus, whom he honored above all his comrades after Patroclus died.

(Translation by me)

So in the Odyssey it doesn't seem like they were indeed in the same urn (unless somehow Nestor could tell the bones apart and took them out? hehe) but they all thee of them are joined in one tomb and worshipped as heroes. So in a way Antilochus seems to join them just not in the same box. However the three of them are indeed seen together in the underworld as one trio literally. They are apparently joined after death according to what Odysseus saw in the underworld.

Once again seems like the romantic as well as the kinship theories could be true interchangably or even at the same time.

Ancient Greeks on their relationship:

As I mentioned above many ancient writers and not just the infamous "historians" everyone mocks on the internet, seem to have placed their own guesses and opinions on the relationships of the two heroes.

Aeschines seems to be contemplating the idea they are lovers (aka he says that Homer "hides their love") and he even reads Patroclus's story as "an intercourse they had once". He names their relationship έρως aka romantic love (eros). Aristotle in Nicomachian Ethics and Rethoric he uses the term "comrade" to talk of them, choosing to focus more on their friendship. His teacher Plato though was a different story. He was convinced that they were not only lovers but he had also figured their roles in their relationship as presented in his Symposium, naming Patroclus as ἐραστής aka "the one who gives love" and mentions how Achilles is in love with Patroclus. Plato remains one of the most...great "shippers" of the two having no doubt about their love affair. To the other end is Xenophon who is adamant that they are not lovers, in his own Symposium. A large number of greek writers seem also to comment on both possibilities, it seems to me quite interesting how many different readings the homeric poems provide.

More mordern readings:

While it is true that there is a certain confusion to the public since a large number of texts either were deliberately modified or genuinely mistranslated (given again how terms like φιλώ means "to love" in general in ancient greek and not just romantically or that the term ερώ does mean "to love as a lover" in some contexts but it also means "to desire very much" and it was used in various of contexts) and these double-meanings were taken advantage of to translate the texts differently and that is because when someone in modern times says "my beloved" by n large they refer to a lover which was something that was greatly hushed up in public

Of course as we stated above for ancient greece that was not the case since the term "beloved" could be used in various contexts and it showed intense emotions of kinship between two people regardless of the nature of their relationship.

However in some accounts the obsession upon trying not to show intense potentual homoerotic material made many of these translations unreliable. There were exceptions to the rule of course but the real breakthrough wouldn't really happen till later in the 19th century where we also have more samples of printed work. Translations like Butler at the end of 19th century are far reliable to the text and seem to follow the spirit of Homer. Quite frankly there was already a breakthrough to homoerotic material thanks to not only the neo-classisim but also gothic literature such as the vampire novelle Carmilla so many writers became more bold into translating the tender words of love as they were and leave the public decide upon their nature.

However this effort to hush up the tender words spoken in Homer out of fear that they might be interpreted as homoerotic created of course this modern uprage in which we have the other way round; that people are afraid to talk about friendhsip and kinship because they will be hushed up by the readings of the text as homoerotic

(see my other post for this)

This, in my opinion simply removes all the abive context; that love can be expressed between family members or friends or people who have been through a lot. Quite frankly as you can see not only I am not denying their energy as lovers, I like to believe I am also supporting this theory a lot because there is a lot of possibility in it just like there is on the direction of tenderness and affection. I do think today people are afraid to speak up on the other side exactly bcause nowadays the most famous way to see them is as lovers as opposed to the previous periods that did the other way round

Conclusions:

I have no doubts that Homer, even though not clearly speaking about it (for example referring to sexual acts) he seems to be insinuating that the two of them were sharing romantic bond or feelings for each other

(it needs to be noted that it is not entirely clear that if there WERE romantic feelings that they were confessed or known by both parties, which could potentially mean the two of them loved each other romantically but did not fulfill their love which could be another tragic note to their story)

Homer seems to be sending several hints to his viewers/readers that one could interpret them as lovers given the tender dictionary they use between each other and for each other, allowing his...fans to decide for themselves. It is also highly possible that he too saw them as star-crossed lovers, for he gives them all the elements of various other stories that involve homoerotic romance, even the tragic end to their story.

However I am equally sure that he also wanted to say that their friendship was of equal importance. There is no doubt that Homer considered them close friends (for he gives us a small hint of their backstory, how they grew together) and their story is being projected like many other duos and characters in the Trojan war that are linked together with bonds of kinship and companionship; stories that flourish at war. He might not straight out tell us that they are the case of story "from friends to lovers" but he absolutely seems to be letting us know that their kinship is there!

And I am grateful to Homer for his writing because it seems to me he wanted both sides to equally enjoy the story; whether they are those who do think their closeness is romance and those who think it is close kinship, strong family bonds or friendship. I am almost convinced that Homer deliberately used that as a way to please both sides of the audience or to give a more tragic aftertaste to their story since closeness is much more impactful to the face of separation.

I like them both and in fact I support them simoultaneously for honestly there is no best lover than your best friend; someone you can trust with everything you have. If I had to support one form of love, this would be it but at the same time I do support the idea that friendship is already a powerful bond of two people and that romantic love in this case would come as a bonus. Somehow Homer does seem to entertain this idea in his writing given again the extreme tenderness and the tragedy of these two while at the same time leaving the door open for his audience to speculate, make interpretations and enjoy the story in their own perspective.

If that is not art I dunno what is.

Okay guys this is only but scrapping the surface of this relationship that lasted for 3000 years now! Hahaha but I hope you like this! It took me several hours to synthesize but I hope you like it.

[seaofwine]

What do you like about the Odyssey? Besides some entertaining episodes (e.g. Circe or Calypso), I've never really been able to get into the Odyssey as a whole (I find the first 5 books especially dull). The Iliad really speaks to me more.

It's hard to really pinpoint what I like most about it but I love to talk about the Odyssey so I hope you like long posts hahaha

The first five books act as the exposition. When the Iliad ends, there's a general understanding that most of the surviving characters made it home. Menelaus and Helen have reunited, the catalyst for the Trojan War has been resolved. Agamemnon traversed the sea and made it back, and although he was killed by his wife Clytemnestra, there is no question about where he is; unlike Odysseus.

Telemachus has spent his entire youth without a father. When he finally decides to set out from Ithaca to find any leads on where Odysseus is, he is confronted with the fact that most everyone else has been accounted for. He sees Menelaus and Helen, the order of their kingdom, the comfort they have in each other and the bonds they have restored. Telemachus has known nothing but uncertainty, while his mother is forced to weave lies and deceptions to keep the suitors that plague their home at bay. The first five books really show how important one man can be when he is utterly lost, and what it would mean for everyone who loves him should he be found. These books also show the close interest that Athena, as patron of Odysseus, takes in his family. She steps into the chaos of Ithaca and gives Telemachus the inspiration to embark on his own journey, chasing the ghost of his still-living father.

When we finally reach Odysseus, he is not the same man that those who knew him in Troy described. They are the closest Telemachus can come to knowing what came of his father, but even they are separated by nearly a decade and the breadth of the sea. Penelope hasn't laid eyes on her husband in twenty years, there is no overestimating what that can do to a person's memory. Odysseus's first action is to cry. When finally Calypso is forced to allow Odysseus to leave, by order of Hermes, he makes his own raft and leaves at the first possible moment. He is fighting against the will of Poseidon, against the wrath he incurred, all alone. He has lost every single one of his men, every single person who could ever vouch for his identity, in a world where no one could recognize him, is gone. Despite this, he is still fighting to get back to Ithaca.

Odysseus is so utterly human in the text. When he is hosted by Alcinous, Odysseus asks the singer there to recount the story of the Trojan Horse. It's like landing at the doorstep of a stranger who graciously allows you to stay and immediately asking his DJ to play *your own* greatest hits - which in turn only upsets him. This also sets up the dramatic reveal of his identity (I like to imagine him looking around like, you guys remember this one? Yeah that's Me, I pinkie promise. Please give me 4000 drachmae and your best oarsmen (: ).

He recounts the story of how he got so utterly lost on the way back and one thing the Odyssey will tell you, to your face over and over again, is that Odysseus is a big time liar. But for some reason, his tale is so compelling it's hard to remind yourself of that when hearing it for the first time. Some points are so beyond baffling (like striking Polyphemus in the singular eye the poor sod has, and then once to the safety of his boat (which is on open water, the domain of said cyclops's father) loudly announcing his full gods-given name and mailing address, just in case anyone missed who it was) that it's like, yeah that was probably exactly what he did. This is the section of the story where we see Odysseus as he sees himself. This is his own reflection of the actions he made and the troubles that befell him because of it.

Odysseus is such a complex character that one of the epithets he is given is "polytropos", the many-faced or many-sided. Odysseus and his relationship to his own identity, which he can shed and don at any point that's convenient for him, is one of the main reasons I am obsessed with his story. This, and the exploration in an ancient text about what a close relationship with a deity, is something I am constantly thinking about.

[heavenlyraindrops]

smut writing tips (TW: sexual stuff cause like. Cmon. It’s smut)

I did one for character so now I’m doing one for smut what’s wrong with smut huh so what if I’m writing tips on how to make smut so what SO WHAT HUH

Smut scenes aren’t that different from normal scenes. Probably because they’re normal scenes. Remember that.

Therefore, they should have dialogueeee because boy oh boy the amount of smut I have read where they are just dead silent is insane I could rebuild the wall of china with allat

so… dirty talk

BUT DONT MAKE IT TOO LONG! OR TOO WEIRD…

“Do you think they’d watch?” he asks. “Do you think they’d enjoy the sight of your naked flesh on display? Maybe they would get off on seeing your dripping pussy reflected back at them everywhere they look. Or the pretty flush on your chest when you come. I think they’d even enjoy watching your eyes roll to the back of your head when my cock fills you so fully, you can’t fit any more of me inside you.”

That’s from haunting Adeline… and… just.. no. NONONONO ITS DISGUSTING ITS GROSS…. WHO TF SAYS THAT BRO. Why is tHIS BOOK SO POPuLAR

more gross examples: “You want to know what I’d do?” he questions. “I would let them watch. I would let them watch me claim you as mine and own every inch of your body. They would watch my cock fill every one of your holes and then watch you cry because of how hard you came. And then I’d fucking kill them. My cock would still be wet from your cum as I’d slice their throats for even daring to look at what’s mine.”

dont write like that guys… like ew. Just ew

also.. epithets.. ok idk what they’re called because English = not my first language but

like

”his member” “sword” “love button” “seed” “her peaks/ nubs”

look my dude if you can read a smut scene like “he inserted his sword inside her cavern and spewed his seed inside her while fondling her mounds” then sure pop off I guess but tbh

no.

JUST USE COCK DICK AND PUSSY OR SOMETHING IDK WHY U GOTTA DO THIS TO ME I WILL NEVER BE ABLE TO SEE CERTAIN THINGS THE SAME WAY EVER AGAIN

“his member” I’m sorry is his dick joining a club?

anywaysysystst

research human body stuff. Like, dicks need to recharge before they get hard again yk

“Recharge” idk bro yk what I mean

cumming more than once for women do be kinda painful unless there’s an amount of time in between the orgasms

like depends on the woman, can range from a couple of hours to at least a whole day

although this doesn’t apply to everyone and some people do just go for it a bunch of times in one session so it’s a very variable thing

so yeah! Make sure to educate urself on biology

spemd more time talking about how they feel physically and emotionally than what they are doing so that the scene actually does have some depth

consistency! I have read shit that goes along the lines of “he grabbed her waist then with his other hand stroked her cheek and then she wrapped her legs around his feet and he pressed his elbow againts her knee flipping her upside down while she nibbled on his ear” how am I supposed to imagine any of that

they keep sprouting a third arm

or do things that completely contradict the position that they are in.. he can’t slap ur ass if ur in the cowgirl position..well, not very comfortably

so. Consistency! :)

that’s all for now ermmmm so yah tell me if this was helpful guys

edit: this post is super old pls ignore its existence

[emositecc]

God I fucking hate Victoria the crybaby so fucking much holy shit. Holy shit, every page she's in, every scene, every fanart, every comic, she's got this painfully vacant, stupid as shit, fuckass personality on her stupid green face. Absolutely no part of her ugly as sin piece of shit character design is endearing. Her stupid fucking dress? Who the hell wears a dress like that. Her dumb fucking lizard tail? Her shitty, annoying bastard attitude ? The three thousand percent dumbass shitass fucking haircut that no woman has EVER FUCKING SHITTY HAIR DESING HAD IN THE HISTORY OF GOD'S GREEN FUCKING EARTH? God, I hate her. I hate her so much. So FUCKING much. Every time I see a comic or a fanart of her, it ignites my primal rage response and I'm overcome by the need to punt this shitty little homunculus into the fucking sun. "Boo hoo, I'm Bitchtoria the fuckshit whiny ass woman, woe is me. PITY ME 😢😢😢😢". Fuck you. Fuck you fuck you fuck you fuck you fuck you. You look like shrek but if shrek was written by vivziepop. Your dumb fucking hair makes your whole shitty head look like a hairy skin tag. I hate your dumb fucking dress and your stupid, empty googly eyes and your over-the-top shitty ass upbeat asshole personality. Any scene she's sad it invokes all the wrath and fury of a spoiled child having a meltdown over a chocolate bar in a walmart checkout line. And I know its irrational. That's the worst part. I know she's just a shitty fucking sad woman in a stupid fucking fan comic, I know it doesn't matter, I know I shouldn't care. But that's part of the problem. The part where no matter the might and fury of my hatred, the locus of my homicidal intent is alltogether inconsequential. I find myself laying awake in the dark in the early hours of the morning consumed by the spirit of Wrath itself, all the force and might of a flaming hurricane directed at a bottle of piss in a ditch by the highway. The absurdity of it all burns me to my core. What better things could this energy be directed towards? And yet my disdain for this stupid, useless, insubstantial failure of endearing character design utterly eclipses the intrigue of all other pursuits. I hate her. I hate hier on a level of my mind reserved for the worst of the world's array of sinners, and I can't even begin to justify it. Shitstick the bitch wife is, for all intents and purposes, the animated corpse of all of humanity's saccharine pretenses- every condescending, passive-aggressive statement of meaningless upper middle class suburban drama distilled into a single, hateable form. The fucking. Fuck. I have no words. There is no cuss or epithet in any language that can encapsulate the height of the emotions I am experiencing. God, I hate her so much. I hate her so, so fucking much. I want to light her ugly little dumpster body on fire. I want to graphically beat her to death with her own stupid fucking punchable face. I want to punch her to death. I want to bash her brains out. You know that weird feeling you get, when you see a picture of something so cute you find yourself overcome with the bizarre, inexplicable urge to squeeze it? It's EXACTLY like that, except instead of cuteness it's disgust. The wordless knowledge that her existence as a fictional work is evidence of all the failures of mankind. I find myself possessed by the will of a Holy Angel gone rogue with the belief that God has made a mistake, and I alone must correct it. This is the trial by which Samael himself fell from grace. This wild, meaningless rage. A thousand blades of shining steel cast with inhuman force in the direction of a plastic grocery bag floating on a breeze. What horrors must I have committed in a past life to be plagued by this torment now? I must Unmake this fictional woman

you've gone on sending me these kinds of messages in my ask box everytime i've updated my comic, even mentioning r*pe in your latest ones. At first I thought this is a bit, but now i honestly dont know. I think you need help and for your own good and mine, I'm going to be blocking you.

This probably wont stop you from reading my comic in other platforms but if you still do, please refrain from messaging me or whatnot because I will just block you again.

okay, thank you.

^ and that's not even ALL of it.

there's like 50+ more

get help.

[voxofthevoid]

Mundane Unclekuna Wednesday #2 ✨

I'm 25k and 4+ chapters into the fic, and it's been...a fun adventure. The PoV structure is Yuuji - Gojou - Sukuna - Sukuna - Gojou - Yuuji for the main six chapters, with a Megumi PoV chapter to conclude the story.

And Chapters 3 and 4, the Sukuna PoV chapters, come to a total of 12.4k. This is the first time I'm tackling his PoV. I thought writing Grimmjow PoV (which is one of the most fun character voices I've ever written) for Bleach would give me some guidance; it did and it didn't. There are similarities, but Sukuna is a very different flavor overall.

Something I realized a few passages in is that I just...could not write Yuuji's name in Sukuna's interior monologue. It wasn't happening. Despite the modern context, the fucker just would not acknowledge Yuuji by name. So we have over 12k of "brat" and "boy" and assorted insults. Won't lie, I enjoyed it, though I'll have a time polishing the phrasing during edits. Contextually apt, relevant epithet usage is always a fun challenge.

Click through for some uncle-nephew incest: Sukuna is his own warning, but Yuuji matches him well enough.

“Strip.”

The brat freezes. “What?”

“I said,” Sukuna enunciates slowly, “strip.”

“But—why?”

“I want to see your damage. If some two-bit sons of a whore fucked you up any, there will be hell to pay, brat.”

“They didn’t,” the kid snaps, eyes all fire. “I told you, they only got Fushiguro, and even that was—”

“I do not care,” Sukuna cuts in, “about Fushiguro Megumi.”

“I do.” It’s a snarl, the mouth matching the eyes. “He’s my friend, and he got caught up in that shit because of me.”

“Did I ask?” Sukuna’s on the kid before he can speak again, grabbing his collar and throwing him to the center of the room. He doesn’t stumble, turning around midway and controlling his momentum so he doesn’t so sprawling on the mat. “Now take off your fucking clothes before I rip them off you. And don’t let your twisted little head fool you, brat—you won’t enjoy it.”

Furious red streaks the brat’s cheek—anger or arousal, even Sukuna can’t tell.

Both, knowing this freak.

“How much?”

Sukuna raises an eyebrow.

The brat raises bold hands to his collar, undoing the top two buttons of his jacket with quick, flicking motions. “How much do you want to see? The top? All of it?”

Despite everything, including all the nights this same boy lied his way into Sukuna’s bed just to molest him in his pretend-sleep, Sukuna finds himself surprised.

“I’ve found dirt-cheap whores with more shame than you,” he says, marveling.

The brat just holds his head higher. “Says more about you than them.”

“You little—”

The rest of the jacket is unbuttoned with startling speed. The brat shrugs it off unceremoniously. By the time it hits the floor, he’s already halfway done with the thin white shirt underneath.

It’s almost like he’s eager to get naked.

The shirt joins the jacket on the floor.

Topless, the brat raises his head, meeting Sukuna’s eyes with a challenge splattered all over his face.

Never had the sense god gave a worm, this one.

Sukuna steps closer—and closer and closer.

The brat doesn’t waver, eyes to toes.

Sukuna drops his gaze to the sweat-slick column of a neck and further down, sneering at the hard curves of muscle. The brat had thinned out a little after that growth spurt last year, like fat and muscle just couldn’t keep up with changing body they clung to, but that didn’t last long. The brat filled right back out, bulging out from biceps to thighs. The uniform shows it better than his casual clothes, straining against shoulders and arms and legs like seams will rip and buttons will pop any moment.

It’s a powerful body—Sukuna’s body, in every way that counts. This boy would never have become what he is today if not for Sukuna.

The brat wasn’t lying, at least. There’s not a mark on him, not even a bruise.

Sukuna’s thorough with the check, circling around the brat once, twice, then again and again, and the little shit relaxes into parade rest, playing at nonchalance, as if Sukuna can’t see his breath quickening and skin dewing.

He comes to a stop directly behind the brat, close enough that he can feel the warmth of his body—a half-phantom haze in the air.

“I should make you take off the rest too,” Sukuna murmurs, watching those shoulders tense up in response. “But you’d enjoy it too much, wouldn’t you?”

The brat’s clasped hands grow tight around each other, those bruised knuckles spotting blood.

But his voice is steady when he says, “Don’t pin this on me. You’re the pervert here.”

Oh, the fucking audacity.

“I’ll tell you a secret, brat,” Sukuna tells him, grinning till his lips sting at how every inch of the brat grows stiff. “You truly are your mother’s child.”

The deflation is almost as amusing as that taut-wire tension.

“That’s not the insult you think it is. I like Mum fine.”

“I wonder about that.”

“The hell does that mean?”

“Turn around.”

The brat practically whips around, taking a step closer till he’s glaring up at Sukuna from less than a foot away.

Sukuna meets his eyes, and the brat doesn’t flinch, doesn’t blink.

Some fools never learn.

“Are you going to ask?”

Sukuna blinks, trying and failing to make sense of the question. “Ask what? Whether you were dropped on your head as a kid? I already know.”

“Funny,” comes the flat response. “The fight—why I did it, why they started it.”

“Am I supposed to care?”

“Yes.”

Sukuna snorts in spite of himself. “Alright, let’s hear it. Might as well know what I’m wasting my time for.”

“I was talking to Fushiguro.”

“That all it takes to stir up you kids these days? Things must be goddamn boring there.”

The brat growls. “Just listen.”

“Get to the point then.”

“I was talking to Fushiguro,” the brat repeats pointedly, the sheer intensity of it all not matching his words—not yet. “I was telling him something. Something I realized recently. Those guys overheard—and didn’t like what they heard. I wasn’t planning on a fight, but the shit they said…” The kid shrugs, not breaking eye contact. “I don’t regret it.”

“Good for you,” Sukuna drawls. “This is still the most boring fucking—”

“I like men,” the brat cuts in. “I was telling Fushiguro about my type of guy. That’s what pissed off those assholes.”

Sukuna’s mind blanks for a moment, before whirling to life with a vengeance.

Something I realized recently, the brat said. But there’s no way in hell even this idiot would’ve been so oblivious. Yeah, he fucking likes men. He’s been eye-fucking Sukuna since puberty, and the last year or so, he’s also been trying his perverted best to turn that into reality.

“I must’ve kicked you in the head one too many times,” he says, clicking his tongue and grinning when the brat’s expression twists up. “Congratulations, you fucking idiot. You finally figured out what everyone and their mother—yours included—knew since before you knew what to do with your dick.”

“Oh, shut up—”

“So, what, were you talking about opening up one of those kids? Singing loving odes to his shit-crusted backside? Word of advice, brat, if you’re perving on people where they can hear, be ready to commit, one way or the other.” Sukuna glances down at one of the brat’s bloodied knuckles. “And this way tends to get you arrested.”

The brat’s gaping at him.

“What kind of a creep do you think I am?” he asks with all the self-awareness of a piece of rock. “Of course I wasn’t doing that! I didn’t even know them. And you know damn well why they picked a fight.”

He does. Sukuna’s broken his fair share of bastards who couldn’t keep their mouths shut about who and how he fucked. And the world’s changed but not that much.

He’s not worried for the kid. He never will be. Either he’ll survive or he won’t, and if he gives the world more reasons to hate him, he better be ready to chew up every resulting misery till it shows its belly.

“Enlighten me then,” Sukuna says despite his better judgement, “on your type.”

The brat freezes—only for a moment, but it’s telling enough. The air between them thickens.

Blood in the water.

“You shy now?” Sukuna asks softly. “Come on, brat, spill. It better have been something else to get those shitstains so worked up.”

The brat’s jaw sets. “Big, tall men with a good ass.”

Sukuna blinks, somehow caught off guard by the sheer, shameless bluntness.  

“Helps if they’re older,” the brat continues, a corner of his mouth curling meanly—an expression Sukuna recognizes from the goddamn mirror. “But I’m not sure about that yet. Girls are easier. I like how they’re soft and warm everywhere. Guys… I guess they can be soft and cute too. Like Fushiguro. He’s pretty. And I guess it’d be easier if he’s the sort I wanted. And I wouldn’t mind, I think, but he doesn’t make my brain light up like that. Don’t look at me like that—I didn’t tell him this part. He’s my friend.”

Whatever the expression on Sukuna’s face, it’s not judging what the brat thinks he’s judging.

“Your friend,” Sukuna echoes, hearing his voice with a hollow, ringing echo that trembles down every one of his veins, “but not your type—unlike that teacher of yours, the Gojou brat.”

There’s a minute flinch, mostly there in the mouth. “Gojou-sensei is way too old for you to call him a brat.”

“And that’s just how you like ‘em, isn’t it?” Sukuna watches his hand move, curling around a throat that moves under it with a harsh swallow. The brat’s eyes are wider, wilder. “That man will eat you alive, you stupid fucking child.”

The brat curls his hand around Sukuna’s wrist, the pressure of it blisteringly familiar.

“As if you won’t,” he says quietly.

Sukuna tightens his grip. “Speak up, brat. Show some balls for once in your pathetic life.”

The boy snarls, surging like a storm.

Sukuna thinks it’s a punch at first, the force and fury of it like nothing else, and then teeth cut into his lip, drawing blood, and he realizes it’s meant to be a kiss. The brat’s throat is pulled taut, the bulge there digging into Sukuna’s palm as it works around air and spit and swallowed sense. The mouth is a mess, more teeth than lips. He’s kissing Sukuna like he wants to bite off his jaw, the heat of it like nothing else.

Sukuna hasn’t frozen for anything in well over a decade, but now, he does, if only for a moment.

He makes the brat pay for it.

[lyss-butterscotch]

Hey— you!

I noticed the interests in your thing, what other series you didn’t mention there yet you like?

Oooh okay okay so im just gonna mention the medias i like / that stuck with me for long / have good knowledge of

Games :

Rain World - love the lore, the procedural animation, detailed bg and ecosystem

Hollow Knight - my first ever computer game, 112% full achievement it 3 times (twice pirated, once in steam), love the art style, mechanics, and lore

Ultrakill - Fulfilled the aggression i got from HK's godhome but 100x over. I love the simplicity over everything and the smooth rewarding combat mechanics. Also The OST

Genshin Impact - Mild interest in the lore, but i love the character, environment designs, and the OST, one of my 'go to for design ideas' media

Celeste - EVERYTHING ABOUT IT, the story the artstyle the music and THE MECHANICS, i love going nyoom and i love being able to conquer difficult things in games that is purely skill based

A Hat in Time - Very cute feels good games. Its old timey but in a good way. Love the characters, artstyle, and the BANGER OST

Inscryption - Aesthetics goals. I love the atmosphere, the sfx design, the story. I just really like how snappy and satisfying every move is

Stardew valley - comfort game :)

Project Moon Games (Lob Corp / Library of Ruina / Limbus Company) - I love Lob Corp in particular because of the monster designs and the batshit mechanics and lore, I love the other two because the lore is onpar with whatever homestuck got going on but like... it actually makes sense. TLDR its SCP but worse /pos

Resident Evil (Specifically RE7 above) - I like the horror vibes, character and environment designs inspos

OFF - Weirdcore but in a nice way. I love the sketchy artstyle

Oneshot - 😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭

Funamusea Games (The Gray Garden / Wadanohara / Mogeko Castle) - Funny lil stories, mostly love it for the character designs since the artist makes alot of OCs

Animes :

Madoka Magica - AMAZING WRITING ANIMATION CHARACTER DEPTH OST EVERYTHING, What i strive for when writing characters, the collage facked up witches is also such an inspo

Ghibli Movies (HOWLS MOVING CASTLE, Spirited Away, The Cat Returns, Princess Mononoke) - Animation, Artstyle, Background art, Story inspirations. Theyre so feel good while also being illegally pretty and heartfelt

Kill la Kill - really fackin brash but i love the OST and the fluid lively animation, just a fun watch

Houseki No Kuni / Land of the Lustrous - Its really pretty, it has AMAZING WRITING, the 3d anime for it was SO GOOD, the manga broke me, aesthetics of all time

Saiki K - No reason in particular, the dude's just a constant mood

Toilet Bound Hanako-Kun - I just really like the aesthetics and the artstyle its so pretty, aesthetic goals

Other medias :

Homestuck - I was there when [S] ACT 7 dropped. I know its like shitpost 70% of the time but it inspires me to see how it started and how it ended

Epithet Erased - I really like the art style and the simple yet lively tweening, the rare animations are really good too. I love the character designs alot

Wakfu - Animation, artstyle, and aesthetics goal. I never finished it and the story is a lil wonky but the artstyle stood out alot to me

The Owl House - The animation and characters and environment designs are so good. The story is really nice too they got to end it well despite being cut short.

Alien Stage - I love the art style. I LOVEEE THE MUSIC ITS SO GOOD AND I LOVE THE CHARACTERS, THE STORY IS WRITTEN THROUGH SHORT SONGS BUT DAMN DO THEY HIT

Analogue Horror (Backrooms, Mandela Catalogue, Local 58, Gemini Home Entertainment) - I love the vibes and creative story telling. World building inspos

[moldsporr]

God I fucking hate Makoto Kagutsuchi so fucking much holy shit. Holy shit, every frame he's in, every scene, every gif, every jpeg, he's got this painfully vacant, stupid as shit, fuckass look on his stupid baby face. Absolutely no part of his ugly as sin piece of shit character design is endearing. His stupid fucking pants? Who the hell makes a homunculus with purple pants. His dumb flaily fucking twink arms? His shitty, baby bastard head? The three thousand percent unnecessary dumbass shitass fucking VACANT FOREHEAD that no homunculus has EVER FUCKING HAD IN tHE HISTORY OF GOD'S GREEN FUCKING EARTH? God, I hate him. I hate him so much. So FUCKING much. Every time I see a stuffed toy Makoto or a Makoto gif or a shitty goddamn commercial, it ignites my primal rage response and I'm overcome by the need to punt this shitty little homunculus into the fucking sun. "Bhurr blur, I'm Makoto the fuckshit masked man, I like warm baths". Fuck you. Fuck you fuck you fuck you fuck you fuck you. You look like Izuru Kamukura summoned a patronus. Your dumb fucking twig hair makes your whole shitty head look like a hairy skin tag. I hate your dumb fucking pink tongue and your stupid, empty googly eyes and your over-the-top goofy ass upbeat asshole personality. Any scene he's sad it invokes all the wrath and fury of a spoiled child having a meltdown over a chocolate bar in a w*lmart checkout line. And I know its irrational. That's the worst part. I know he's just a shitty fucking sympathetic villain character in a stupid fucking video game, I know it doesn't matter, I know I shouldn't care. But that's part of the problem. The part where no matter the might and fury of my hatred, the locus of my homicidal intent is alltogether inconsequential. I find myself laying awake in the dark in the early hours of the morning consumed by the spirit of Wrath itself, all the force and might of a flaming hurricane directed at a bottle of piss in a ditch by the highway. The absurdity of it all burns me to my core. What better things could this energy be directed towards? And yet my disdain for this stupid, useless, insubstantial failure of endearing character design utterly eclipses the intrigue of all other pursuits. I hate him. I hate him on a level of my mind reserved for the worst of the world's array of sinners, and I can't even begin to justify it. Shitstick the masked dick is, for all intents and purposes, the animated corpse of all of humanity's saccharine pretenses- every condescending, passive-aggressive statement of meaningless upper middle class suburban drama distilled into a single, hateable form. The fucking. Fuck. I have no words. There is no cuss or epithet in any language that can encapsulate the height of the emotions I am experiencing. God, I hate him so much. I hate him so, so fucking much. I want to light his ugly little dumpster body on fire. I want to graphically beat him to death with his own stupid fucking mask. I want to punch him to death. You know that weird feeling you get, when you see a picture of something so cute you find yourself overcome with the bizarre, inexplicable urge to squeeze it? It's EXACTLY like that, except instead of cuteness it's disgust. The wordless knowledge that his existence as a fictional work is evidence of all the failures of mankind. I find myself possessed by the will of a Holy Angel gone rogue with the belief that God has made a mistake, and I alone must correct it. This is the trial by which Samael himself fell from grace. This wild, meaningless rage. A thousand blades of shining steel cast with inhuman force in the direction of a plastic grocery bag floating on a breeze. What horrors must I have committed in a past life to be plagued by this torment now? I must Unmake this fictional twink

[wander-wren]

small things to stop doing in your fics

(or any kind of writing, but i live on ao3. we begin with flat-out crimes and then slowly start moving into things that just bug me personally but aren’t wrong)

epithets. if i’ve said it once, i’ve said it a thousand times. you should only be using epithets for characters whose names we do not know. they can also be used VERY rarely to break up the repetition of names/pronouns or to emphasize characters’ relationships/viewpoints, ie “his boyfriend” or “the asshole.”

writing out accents. please stop. you can include a couple of small things, like “somethin’” or “ya” (for “you”), but even keep that to a minimum. specific turns of phrase/references go way farther imo to establish a character’s culture/background/etc. a little goes a long way, and doing it repeatedly can make sentences hard to parse. this also! applies! to children and babytalk! have you ever listened to a child speak? toddlers can enunciate pretty well!

not enough commas. put commas before names and titles. it’s not “Hey John” or “I’m on it captain,” it’s “Hey, John” and “I’m on it, captain.” also, put them after discourse markers/interjections such as “well,” “so,” and “now.” you should be writing “So, how are the kids?” not “So how are the kids?” even if your character is speaking quickly, you still want the commas because of grammar. it can occasionally be acceptable to omit them if you want to indicate extreme excitement/panic/anger/etc, but use it sparingly.

too many commas. i’m a comma fiend like the rest of you so i’m guilty here too, but we gotta at least stop with the comma splices. commas split and independent and dependent clause, meaning that one part of the sentence cannot grammatically stand alone. if all parts are complete sentences on their own, that’s a comma splice. try splitting it into two sentences, using a semicolon, or rewriting. this is usually fine in dialogue, though, that’s just how people talk.

also, using a lot of commas to denote panic is something i used to be HUGELY guilty of and now i hate it. instead of, “I, I, I don’t, I don’t know,” you can try, “I-I…I don’t—I don’t know!” probably not that much punctuation that close together, but for the sake of example. emdashes and ellipses, my beloveds 🫶

roleplay speak. i don’t know what else to succinctly call this? i’m referring to the tendency to be redundant and over-explain, especially in dialogue. it’s a phenomenon i see constantly in rp circles, usually because of post length requirements (and i have little issue with it there, it’s just the culture). things like:

“Surprise!” Adam shouted, popping out from behind the door.

“Oh my god!” Scott screamed, having been completely startled and not expecting Adam to be home yet.

yeah, we can guess that Scott is startled, right? because of the screaming? and clearly if Adam is surprising Scott it stands to reason his presence is unexpected? why are we stating this twice?

i believe this also comes from the mistaken idea that every line of dialogue needs a tag attached, which is….horrible. you can let the dialogue exist on its own sometimes, friends. you can also include an action beat without a tag. like above, i could have just said “Adam popped out from behind the door” and omitted the shouting altogether. we can assume he is being loud because that’s usually how people do surprises. anyway. moving on.

condescending to readers. this isn’t so much about writing as it is author’s notes and the like, and “condescending” may be a strong word, but i’m trying to be succinct. at any rate, please stop telling your audience to not read your fic? “do not read if sensitive to [blank]” or “if you have [disorder] skip this fic!” is a horrible way to trigger warn. people know their own boundaries. tell them what the work actually contains and let them self-select.

i also find “rest stop/check-in” type notes condescending, like “if you are reading this between the hours of 10pm-4am, go to sleep” and “STOP! have you eaten/drank/walked around in the past few hours? go do that!” again, we know ourselves. i’m not your kid, don’t tell me what to do. i don’t mind a polite, casual little “thanks for reading, remember to drink water and take your meds, bye” note, though.

the others in this category? i will straight up not read the fic over that on some days. ESPECIALLY because, in my experience, the people who are most intense about warning for every little thing are the ones with the mildest fics, and that’s not what i’m here for.

complaining about your own wrong tags. this is, admittedly, such a nitpick, and it definitely is more common in certain communities than others. but as longtime followers may know, i’m a bit obsessed with ao3’s tagging system and it drives me BONKERS when people use the wrong tags and follow it with “not actually but there’s no tag for xyz.” here’s the thing: you can still look at all the works that have ANY tag, just the non-canonized ones can’t be filtered on. and the best way to get a tag canonized is, guess what, to USE it! imagine that. also, if you’re using the wrong tag, you’re just going to clog the filter results and get people who don’t actually want to read your fic. just stop.

[celticcatgirl2]

God I fucking hate Vegeta so fucking much holy shit. Holy shit, every frame he's in, every scene, every gif, every jpeg, he's got this painfully smug, stupid as shit, fuckass look on his stupid scrunkly face. Absolutely no part of his ugly as sin piece of shit character design is endearing. His stupid fucking hairline? Who the hell makes a "bad boy" boy friend of the main girl with a hairline like that. His dumb short ass stumpy legs? His shitty, lumpy bastard head? The three thousand percent unnecessary dumbass shitass fucking POINTY HAIR STANDING UP IN ONE DIRECTION that no Saiyan has EVER FUCKING HAD IN tHE HISTORY OF GOD'S GREEN FUCKING EARTH? God, I hate him. I hate him so much. So FUCKING much. Every time I see a stuffed toy Vegeta or an Vegeta gif or a shitty goddamn anime clip, it ignites my primal rage response and I'm overcome by the need to punt this shitty little homunculus into the fucking sun. "Bhurr blur, I'm Vegeta the fuckshit monkey fucker, I am the prince of all Saiyans ". Fuck you. Fuck you fuck you fuck you fuck you fuck you. You look like the grumpy troll from trolls world tour summoned a patronus. Your dumb fucking twig hair makes your whole shitty head look like a hairy skin tag. I hate your dumb fucking creased forehead and your stupid, empty souless eyes and your over-the-top douchey ass arrogant asshole personality. Any scene he's sad it invokes all the wrath and fury of a spoiled child having a meltdown over a chocolate bar in a w*lmart checkout line. And I know its irrational. That's the worst part. I know he's just a shitty fucking side character in a stupid fucking Shonen anime, I know it doesn't matter, I know I shouldn't care. But that's part of the problem. The part where no matter the might and fury of my hatred, the locus of my homicidal intent is alltogether inconsequential. I find myself laying awake in the dark in the early hours of the morning consumed by the spirit of Wrath itself, all the force and might of a flaming hurricane directed at a bottle of piss in a ditch by the highway. The absurdity of it all burns me to my core. What better things could this energy be directed towards? And yet my disdain for this stupid, useless, insubstantial failure of endearing character design utterly eclipses the intrigue of all other pursuits. I hate him. I hate him on a level of my mind reserved for the worst of the world's array of sinners, and I can't even begin to justify it. Shitstick the Prince of all shitfucks is, for all intents and purposes, the animated corpse of all of humanity's saccharine pretenses- every condescending, passive-aggressive statement of meaningless upper middle class suburban drama distilled into a single, hateable form. The fucking. Fuck. I have no words. There is no cuss or epithet in any language that can encapsulate the height of the emotions I am experiencing. God, I hate him so much. I hate him so, so fucking much. I want to light his ugly little dumpster body on fire. I want to graphically beat him to death with his own stupid fucking scouter. I want to punch him to death. You know that weird feeling you get, when you see a picture of something so cute you find yourself overcome with the bizarre, inexplicable urge to squeeze it? It's EXACTLY like that, except instead of cuteness it's disgust. The wordless knowledge that his existence as a fictional work is evidence of all the failures of mankind. I find myself possessed by the will of a Holy Angel gone rogue with the belief that God has made a mistake, and I alone must correct it. This is the trial by which Samael himself fell from grace. This wild, meaningless rage. A thousand blades of shining steel cast with inhuman force in the direction of a plastic grocery bag floating on a breeze. What horrors must I have committed in a past life to be plagued by this torment now? I must Unmake this fictional alien

[scrybe-of-death]

God I fucking hate Olaf the snowman so fucking much holy shit. Holy shit, every frame he's in, every scene, every gif, every jpeg, he's got this painfully vacant, stupid as shit, fuckass look on his stupid lumpy face. Absolutely no part of his ugly as sin piece of shit character design is endearing. His stupid fucking legs? Who the hell makes a snowman with legs. His dumb flaily fucking twig arms? His shitty, lumpy bastard head? The three thousand percent unnecessary dumbass shitass fucking SNOW BUCK TOOTH that no snowman has EVER FUCKING HAD IN tHE HISTORY OF GOD'S GREEN FUCKING EARTH? God, I hate him. I hate him so much. So FUCKING much. Every time I see a stuffed toy Olaf or an Olaf gif or a shitty goddamn commercial, it ignites my primal rage response and I'm overcome by the need to punt this shitty little homunculus into the fucking sun. "Bhurr blur, I'm Olaf the fuckshit snow fucker, I like warm hugs". Fuck you. Fuck you fuck you fuck you fuck you fuck you. You look like Tow Mater summoned a patronus. Your dumb fucking twig hair makes your whole shitty head look like a hairy skin tag. I hate your dumb fucking lumpy carrot nose and your stupid, empty googly eyes and your over-the-top goofy ass upbeat asshole personality. Any scene he's sad it invokes all the wrath and fury of a spoiled child having a meltdown over a chocolate bar in a w*lmart checkout line. And I know its irrational. That's the worst part. I know he's just a shitty fucking side character in a stupid fucking children's movie, I know it doesn't matter, I know I shouldn't care. But that's part of the problem. The part where no matter the might and fury of my hatred, the locus of my homicidal intent is alltogether inconsequential. I find myself laying awake in the dark in the early hours of the morning consumed by the spirit of Wrath itself, all the force and might of a flaming hurricane directed at a bottle of piss in a ditch by the highway. The absurdity of it all burns me to my core. What better things could this energy be directed towards? And yet my disdain for this stupid, useless, insubstantial failure of endearing character design utterly eclipses the intrigue of all other pursuits. I hate him. I hate him on a level of my mind reserved for the worst of the world's array of sinners, and I can't even begin to justify it. Shitstick the snow dick is, for all intents and purposes, the animated corpse of all of humanity's saccharine pretenses- every condescending, passive-aggressive statement of meaningless upper middle class suburban drama distilled into a single, hateable form. The fucking. Fuck. I have no words. There is no cuss or epithet in any language that can encapsulate the height of the emotions I am experiencing. God, I hate him so much. I hate him so, so fucking much. I want to light his ugly little dumpster body on fire. I want to graphically beat him to death with his own stupid fucking nose. I want to punch him to death. You know that weird feeling you get, when you see a picture of something so cute you find yourself overcome with the bizarre, inexplicable urge to squeeze it? It's EXACTLY like that, except instead of cuteness it's disgust. The wordless knowledge that his existence as a fictional work is evidence of all the failures of mankind. I find myself possessed by the will of a Holy Angel gone rogue with the belief that God has made a mistake, and I alone must correct it. This is the trial by which Samael himself fell from grace. This wild, meaningless rage. A thousand blades of shining steel cast with inhuman force in the direction of a plastic grocery bag floating on a breeze. What horrors must I have committed in a past life to be plagued by this torment now? I must Unmake this fictional snowman

i agree with every word

[crusty-chronicles]

Airheaded S/O Headcannons #8: Giovanni (Epithet Erased)

An: This has been me writing for obscure characters bc I want more of them out there. Enjoy.

Giovanni would die for you

This man already loves his minions so much, so with you, he's absolutely smitten

What's that? You're rank Senpai in the Bonzi Blasters?

He's in love.

Hmm? You also can't tell your right from your left?

Don't worry, if Car Crash can figure it out, so can you.

You have one of the highest bounties he's ever seen, but not one functioning brain cell.

How you managed to do it, he'd never know.

But he's so goddamn supportive anyway.

You broke into a museum during the day?

"That's it baby, catch em' by surprise!!!"

You throw PeaShooters instead of firing them?

"You still knocked down the enemy! And bonus points for creativity!!!"

You lost the loot helping one of your minions?

"What's a cheap treasure to Bad Guy Street Cred? Minions always come first!"

If Giovanni is ever in any trouble, you're his solution.

Caught by the police?

You're using your own Epithet to get him out.

The higher ups are upset with him?

You just walking by and asking 'what's going on' is enough for them to drop it.

Nobody wants to mess with a person who even Zora couldn't catch.

He needs a new knife because his mom won't lend him one anymore?

You lend him yours and buy him his own set.

He totally finds a way to combine his Soup Epithet with yours so you guys have couple coordinated attacks.

Does not and will not ever take advantage of your ranking to better himself.

If he wants to move up a level, (on this pyramid scheme) he'll do it himself through hard work.

Plus he loves bragging about how cool you are.

This dork is exactly the type to confess to you during a heist when you're about to die.

The "If we don't make it out of here, there's something I want you to know" type.

And you don't realize he's trying to confess so your response is the typical "We are going to make it out of here!"

Even when you and his underlings have already defeated the enemy, he's still convinced you two won't make it out.

"I just want you to know, I love and admire you!"

"Giovanni, we're at the base????" (The base is your house.)

And he's 🤨🤨🤨

"Oh, then nevermind."

Screaming because after that both groups of minions are trying so damn hard to get you guys together.

They try setting up a date and Giovanni is so embarrassed when he realizes what's happening.

And you have no damn clue, so it embarrasses him further because he has to come up with an excuse for 'inviting' you to a nice dinner.

Flowers show up at your door signed 'Captain Gio ❤️'

And he's absolutely terrified because 'Guys!!! That was a little too forward!!!😡😡'

But still you have no clue and are just happy he got you something that wasn't stolen. Well, probably not stolen

It does work out, eventually.

This bad not-so-bad guy will call you the sweetest names.

And he totally gets ragged on by his boys if he uses one in front of them.

Babe, honey, Senpai, love of his life, sunshine.

Might even slip in 'the baddest of villains' if he's feeling spicy.

He let's you pick out the seasonings for his Epithet, but shhhh! That's a secret!!!

He tells you about Molly and you suggest a 'surprise adoption.'

And he's all on board until he realizes he's way too young for kids. That and you two can't afford one. 😞😞😞

So you settle for stopping by the toy store every once and a while to say hi.

She's very appreciative and also confused.

Because it's always the day after you visit that all the toys at the store are bought by an anonymous customer.

And the week after that a hospital is gifted a generous amount of toys for the kids staying there.

But yeah, you and Giovanni are totally bad guys. 🙄🙄🙄

Although she does wonder where you get all that money from to buy from the store.

Giovanni does worry that the Head Bonzi Blasters are taking advantage of your stupidity.

So he always makes sure to go with you when you have a meeting

He just wants the best for his S/O, okay. 🥺

And he's right because you're being scammed big time. And it's extremely obvious.

He shuts that down right away, even if he won't be in the higher-ups good graces.

His mom loves you and begs for you to take Giovanni with you everytime you leave.

But you two can't exactly afford a stable apartment for two people. 😬😬😬😬

She still holds out hope though.

Does Giovanni get jealous?

How dare you ask!

The Great Giovanni Potage is never jealous!!!

Nope, not one bit.

Not even as the sales clerk slips you their number, only to find out they're being accused of tax fraud by an anonymous source the next day

Nope, totally not jealous 😤😤😤

He also totally does not hold your hand when another Banzai Captain is flirting with you so they get the message that you're taken.

Couldn't be him.

It is him please don't find somebody cooler with a better Epithet

Goldfish brain or not, he loves you and will support you through even the worst of blunders.

NEXT UP: Hiei Jaganshi

An: On an unrelated note, I would let Thorn from the Hex Girls break my spine like a toothpick.

MASTERLIST

[libraryofbabel-postlocator]

find this:

God I fucking hate Olaf the snowman so fucking much holy shit. Holy shit, every frame he's in, every scene, every gif, every jpeg, he's got this painfully vacant, stupid as shit, fuckass look on his stupid lumpy face. Absolutely no part of his ugly as sin piece of shit character design is endearing. His stupid fucking legs? Who the hell makes a snowman with legs. His dumb flaily fucking twig arms? His shitty, lumpy bastard head? The three thousand percent unnecessary dumbass shitass fucking SNOW BUCK TOOTH that no snowman has EVER FUCKING HAD IN tHE HISTORY OF GOD'S GREEN FUCKING EARTH? God, I hate him. I hate him so much. So FUCKING much. Every time I see a stuffed toy Olaf or an Olaf gif or a shitty goddamn commercial, it ignites my primal rage response and I'm overcome by the need to punt this shitty little homunculus into the fucking sun. "Bhurr blur, I'm Olaf the fuckshit snow fucker, I like warm hugs". Fuck you. Fuck you fuck you fuck you fuck you fuck you. Your dumb fucking twig hair makes your whole shitty head look like a hairy skin tag. I hate your dumb fucking lumpy carrot nose and your stupid, empty googly eyes and your over-the-top goofy ass upbeat asshole personality. Any scene he's sad it invokes all the wrath and fury of a spoiled child having a meltdown over a chocolate bar in a w*lmart checkout line. And I know its irrational. That's the worst part. I know he's just a shitty fucking side character in a stupid fucking children's movie, I know it doesn't matter, I know I shouldn't care. But that's part of the problem. The part where no matter the might and fury of my hatred, the locus of my homicidal intent is alltogether inconsequential. I find myself laying awake in the dark in the early hours of the morning consumed by the spirit of Wrath itself, all the force and might of a flaming hurricane directed at a bottle of piss in a ditch by the highway. The absurdity of it all burns me to my core. What better things could this energy be directed towards? And yet my disdain for this stupid, useless, insubstantial failure of endearing character design utterly eclipses the intrigue of all other pursuits. I hate him. I hate him on a level of my mind reserved for the worst of the world's array of sinners, and I can't even begin to justify it. Shitstick the snow dick is, for all intents and purposes, the animated corpse of all of humanity's saccharine pretenses- every condescending, passive-aggressive statement of meaningless upper middle class suburban drama distilled into a single, hateable form. The fucking. Fuck. I have no words. There is no cuss or epithet in any language that can encapsulate the height of the emotions I am experiencing. God, I hate him so much. I hate him so, so fucking much. I want to light his ugly little dumpster body on fire. I want to graphically beat him to death with his own stupid fucking nose. I want to punch him to death. You know that weird feeling you get, when you see a picture of something so cute you find yourself overcome with the bizarre, inexplicable urge to squeeze it? It's EXACTLY like that, except instead of cuteness it's disgust. The wordless knowledge that his existence as a fictional work is evidence of all the failures of mankind. I find myself possessed by the will of a Holy Angel gone rogue with the belief that God has made a mistake, and I alone must correct it. This is the trial by which Samael himself fell from grace. This wild, meaningless rage. A thousand blades of shining steel cast with inhuman force in the direction of a plastic grocery bag floating on a breeze. What horrors must I have committed in a past life to be plagued by this torment now? I must Unmake this fictional snowman

It's over 3200 characters so it's split up but the first half is on page 194 of volume 24 on shelf 5 of wall 4 of hexagon (below cut) (second part is also below the cut)

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

the second part is on page 227 of volume 17 on shelf 4 of wall 2 of hexagon 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

[epithet-beloved]

How about Platonic EE Phoenica?

PHOENICA FLEECITY PLATONIC HEADCANONS

synopsis… Headcanons for being Phoenica’s friend

ft. Phoenica Fleecity XV, Trixie Roughhouse (mentioned), Molly Blyndeff (mentioned)

tags… epithet erased, platonic headcanons, tooth rotting fluff, friendship study, mentions of loss/grief, found family

word count… 767

a/n… FEENIE MY ME!!! I am a massive Feenie kinnie so i am obligated to write her ✧ 🦄

𓆩ꨄ︎𓆪 Get ready for the most Disney channel friendship ever.

𓆩ꨄ︎𓆪 Phoenica grew up pretty sheltered, so most of her ideas of what friendship is meant to look like come from movies and TV. And magical girl anime, can’t forget the magical girl anime.

𓆩ꨄ︎𓆪 No matter your gender, you will be recruited to her magical girl troupe. It’s inevitable, just let it happen.

“Oh, and magical girls usually have a special name for their transformations! Like Sailor Moon has her base form, but she also has Super Sailor Moon, Eternal Sailor Moon……what do you want yours to be? I have a list of approved words you can reference!”

𓆩ꨄ︎𓆪 She insists upon you calling her Feenie or some other kind of nickname. After all, you’re friends! And Feenie is what her friends call her!

𓆩ꨄ︎𓆪 Lots and lots of list making and itineraries. Even for a simple sleepover, she has a full schedule of activities decorated with cute stickers.

“At five PM we’ll have dinner, then after that we’ll have dessert…..oh, and a full movie marathon! Then that should make some room for the pillow fight and fort building at eight, then we should be all cozy and ready to sleep by nine! Perfect, right?”

𓆩ꨄ︎𓆪 She also keeps a ‘friendship scrapbook’ of all the things you do together. Photos from every hangout, little stickers and your names sewed into the front cover…..she has you help work on it whenever she adds a new page!

𓆩ꨄ︎𓆪 If you’re friends with Feenie, then Molly and Trixie naturally are your friends, too. If you met Feenie after she already met the other Neo Trio members, Trixie insists on staging a formal ‘vibe check’ to see if you pass. This consists of them poking you with a glow stick to check your ‘aura’ and having you consume a special potion that is definitely not just three sodas in a jar.

𓆩ꨄ︎𓆪 You get included as a supporting character in her self insert fanfiction! Yippee! This is the highest recognition of friendship you can receive from Feenie.

𓆩ꨄ︎𓆪 (Also it is my personal belief that the Neo Trio’s My Little Pony OCs are as follows: Feenie is an alicorn crystal pony, Molly is an earth pony, and Trixie is a Changeling, because every transgender person wanted to be a Changeling. Source: me.)

𓆩ꨄ︎𓆪 The Neo Trio makes you a special accessory as per custom. Feenie always brags about her addition to the accessory, clearly ecstatic to be able to give you a gift that you love.

“Molly did the braiding, and I picked the little beads.” Despite their stoic expression, Trixie was clearly all too eager to hand you the custom friendship bracelet the group had crafted for you.

From behind them, Feenie was even more eager to giggle and squeal, “I added all the GLITTER! Isn’t it so fabulous?”

“Yeah,” Molly nodded. “It’s like one of those yellow reflective vests. Now there’s no way you won’t be visible at night.”

𓆩ꨄ︎𓆪 Without her mom around, and her dad busy, she often feels lonely at home. So please stay over at least once a week, it makes her really happy.

𓆩ꨄ︎𓆪 She is the sweetest most considerate friend ever. Food allergies? None of that food at any of her friend events! You’re trans or use unorthodox pronouns? She keeps a list of all your preferred ones! Neurodivergent? She communicates according to your boundaries and is never upset over mistakes. What a sweetheart.

𓆩ꨄ︎𓆪 Also? Perfect study buddy. If you’re someone who struggles to study or get homework done, she invites you over to do flash cards and have snacks. Whatever your learning style is, she’ll research a bunch of fun study games to play to help you.

“Oh my gosh! You’ve nearly memorized the entire times table for seven!” The little ball of fluff was practically bouncing off the walls with excitement. No matter what it was, Feenie was always eager to be proud of you. “We can finish the rest after a snack! Annabelle made us snickerdoodles!”

𓆩ꨄ︎𓆪 You come to know most of her house staff by name. They know you well, and practically consider you part of the family.

𓆩ꨄ︎𓆪 Feenie confides in you about a lot of things she doesn’t normally tell anyone else. How much pressure she feels over having to save the world, how unfair it is, that she has to do all this and she’s just a kid…..usually, Feenie does her best to be a typical ray of sunshine so that nobody has to feel sad around her, but she can’t help but just feel so safe around you.

𓆩ꨄ︎𓆪 You really are family to her.

[damnilovefaerghus]

cus I'm daring, lets go with these bad boys for the Writer Truth or Dare Ask Game: 🥤, 🍬, 🍦, 🧩

🥤 (Recommend a fic): Something a little unexpected for me! A Hitman fic, written from the perspective of the poor bastards who have to deal with Agent 47 and his aftermath: https://archiveofourown.org/works/37277812

🍬(unpopular opinion about popular character): Seteth isn't enough of an old man to trigger my DILF instincts im sorry

🍦(3 good things about a char I hate): I don't hate most characters in FE3H, even if I may or may not appreciate the way they're written, so we're gonna have to go back to my Persona 5 hater days for this one. Because Ryuji is the worst best friend character I've ever seen in a Persona game, but AT LEAST he:

gets Sun Wukong as a persona

has some fashion sense

can be swapped for Makoto early

🧩(what makes you click away from fic immediately): uhhhhhhhhh bear in mind I will click away from fics and books literally the instant the wind changes, so just take this list as "old man yells at clouds"

the first line wasn't funny enough

"he would not say that"

"this would not happen this way and if it did he would not do that"

"nope"

too short sentences

comma splices

the paragraphs don't look right

sentences don't have flow

sentences have no structural variation

dialogue isn't on separate lines

author has issues with the word "said"

author loves the word "said" too much

author got unique with dialogue indicators instead of using " "

dialogue tags on every line like a script

the character's name is repeated too often without pronouns

the character's name is never used (unintentionally)

any epithets without a good reason

the word "orbs"

narration is too detailed

narration isn't detailed enough

narration is too confusing

character's narrative voice sounds wrong

stoic character thinks too much about emotions

brash character thinks too intelligently

any character thinks too much about how cute someone else is

anyone licking their lips at all

anachronisms

bad research

unexplained headcanons

unexplained OCs

unexplained lyrics or poetry

self inserts

x reader

romantic talk

pet names without explanation

romance without 100k words of explanation beforehand (this is a joke)

"babe"

modern language in non-modern canon

therapy speak without the character both having access to the modern DSM-5 and a good reason to use it

not enough repression

too much longing

grown adult acts like a teenager about emotions

teenager acts like a grown ass adult about emotions

miscommunication

the word "sniffles"

blorbo wasn't written exactly the way I like

this goes against my headcanon

author's voice not my thing

oh

oh

literally I will dropkick you if you put that in your fuckin fic