#paralyzed polites

[witless-winion1]

My thoughts on the paralyzed!Polites AU

(Which I really should do more research on; inspired by this)

Odysseus cries when Polites first wakes up

Eurylochus almost cries. Instead just let’s out a very shaky, relieved sigh and tells his friend “I’m glad you’re back”

his vision is messed with in that classic “Eye for an eye” vibe

His left arm is broken and yet he still insists on greeting the world with open arms

“Don’t you mean open arm?”

“You hush, Perimedes.”

So much survivor’s guilt but he’s very thankful to be alive and honors his fallen friends with Ody and everyone else

He basically can’t walk without help

Odysseus carves him a cane himself

It has a bunch of super cool details, including a winion

Polites adores it

(perhaps they go back to the Lotus Eater island and kidnap a winion for Polites? Like a comfort animal. Give Polites, my Disney Princess Pancake, a familiar plz)

But Polites needs a lot of help with things that require both arms or both legs or gods forbid all four

one dumbass numbnuts comments “would’ve been kinder to let him die” under his breath after Polites wakes up

Captain nearly throws him overboard

obviously

“My best friend would be delighted to live life in whatever form it came to him! You shut your fucking mouth and if I ever hear you ask such wretched nonsense again I’m going to put you on latrine duty for a month, am I understood?”

Eurylochus has to hold him back during this

Eurylochus also immediately assumes position of bodyguard of Polites.

He and Odysseus soon begin fighting over this job

they decide to share custody

(eventually)

OPEN ARMS REPRISES BUT HES ACTUALLY ALIVE!!!!

plot? Oh yeah plot

lmao what plot

after the Cyclopes passes out Ody is too busy making sure his friend is okay (which he is not). He gets somebody to check the other smashees and then stays by Poli’s side (no, he don’t give a shit that he’s captain, you guys go stab his eye, he’s asleep it’s not that fucking hard)

Odysseus carries Polites when the Cyclopes wakes up

he’s too busy thinking about getting him back to the ship and calling the best doctors from the 12 ships so he tells everyone to grab the sheep and HUSTLE

Athena grabs him and starts with her “HAVE YOU FORGOTTEN THE LESSONS I TAUGHT YOU? HE’S STILL A THRE-”

“ATHENA IM BUSY RN WE CAN TALK LATER”

“BUT HE’S STILL ALIVE-”

“WE’RE LEAVING BRO! HE’S NOT GONNA FUCKING SWIM AFTER US!”

they’re not on best terms for a while after that but they still reconcile after

then they get home! Whoop de do, congrant, 99.7777777778% of the canon plot avoided

when they get home and our sunshine is actually properly long-term treated, Odysseus and Telemachus’s first big father-son bonding project is to make Polites’ house more accessible for him

and Telemachus fucking loves Polites. Best Uncle Award. They vibe so hard that Odysseus cries

he almost cries when Penelope starts weaving clothes that are easier for his friend to wear. He’s a tiinnyyy bit jealous but he’s still so happy. And Penelope noticed and weaves her dear husband some clothes too, all his old ones are stinky asf

Eurylochus and all Poli’s friends from the ship still visit regularly. It’s just a big happy family

and nobody dies, not even Nobody

(except for those other guys from the Cyclopes cave but this ain’t about them)

Edit: Polites’ job when he gets back is a shepherd (thanks @wukyma for the idea, and the art they make of shepherd Polites is ADORABLE go check it out). He loves the fluffy lil clouds and their adorable sounds, even though sometimes his old wounds tingle on bad days around them. He tries not to remember that.

he likes just relaxing in the field with them, and sometimes Odysseus and Telemachus come hang on and they all just sit and talk and tell stories

[mx-incognito]

Wanna do something useful, that really does have an effect? I have been calling my reps in the Senate, Congress and State Gov.

I've been calling every single day since the election, a different issue and solution each day. It takes about 1 min per call. Hate phone calls? Email them!

My own calls on issues have ranged from Voting No on Trump's cabinet picks, his violations of the constitution and out civil rights, LGBTQ+ Rights, and his unforgivable pardoning of violent seditionists. Pick the issues that matter to you most. Make a list!

example: "Hi, I'm [ ] from [ ], and I wanted to let [Rep] know how I feel about [issue], and that they should [solution]. Thank you!" and then they take your contact info and thank u for using your voice. Be polite, and try to be succinct! One issue per call or email.

They have to listen to us. Every phone call helps me feel a little better, and is a more effective use of my voice than complaining on social media.

Stay strong, fellow Tumblrites ♥

[justastupidlittlelesbian]

I have never felt this much political anxiety

[skinnypaleangryperson]

God, quirky and autistic people are so much more interesting if not off-putting than the neurotypicals that run America. Too bad that we're told in all kinds of ways that 99% of the time our personalities and our complexity and fascinations and projects don't matter, just because we're not singing the most bland love songs you ever heard like all the pop stars neurotypical waste their lives pretending are worth a damn.

[all-yourn]

destiel & zach bryan feat. kacey musgraves "i remember everything"

[on youtube]

[actual-corpse]

Today's the day.

I'm about to head out to my voting place!

Weeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee!!

[thehauntedp0et]

They talk of closing the border

And producing more oil

Drilling more holes

All for saving the economy

But at what cost?

Drilling more holes

Striping our natural resources to the bone

They are fixing the economy

By slaughtering our home

America first

Americans first

No

It is them first

They only care about themselves

The rich support the rich

And the poor fend to the death.

But what of the people dying

What of the world burning

Our home is dying

It is our fault and no one seems to care

At least the people that matter

Who have the power to actually turn it around

Because no sweat for what you can not see

Right?

But I see

I see the world eroding

And the ice burgs melting

They say Climate change is fine

It is not us

We are not to blame

Right?

And what can I do

I can sit in my room and cry

Because I do not control the oil

And I am no saint

I can not perform miracles

When my hands are tied

With a Palomar knot

And dipped in denies

Denials of our leaders

There hands

Are the ones coated in vile play

Like it is all one big game

Playing with mankind

It is our hands dipped in the blood of our demise

Our self inflicted termination.

Here is the cold hard truth;

There is no rewind button

No do over

Life is not a game

And we have already lost it

I am not the one diminishing

The only protection we have

Recycling my bottles wont save a thing

So let the world burn

Because it will

Not unless you open your eyes

Please

god please

Would you just open your eyes.

//our world is dying and we are dying with it

[iwowzumi]

shoutout to my homies with ocd on this post election day. i know we’re all catastrophizing like a motherfucker right now

[wildgeese98]

While it is certainly true that this failed assassination will be a political boon for trump, definitively declaring that biden is guaranteed to lose now helps no one. If I'm honest I think it gives some people an excuse to check out an not care. Things are very scary right now, hopelessness is a very natural and understandable reaction. But we need to keep believing we have a chance and keep fighting for it, the stakes are too high for us to throw our hands up and give in to despair.

Seriously, consider who benefits from the pervasive attitude that defeat is inevitable and there's nothing we can do. We can be realistic and pragmatic without spiraling into compete apathy.

[witless-winion1]

Everything’s changed since Polites…

Eurylochus swallowed, watching as Odysseus leaned against the mast. Falling asleep. Honestly, it was a miracle the man had lasted this long- nine days was incredible.

But why was he forcing himself to stay awake that long? What was in that gods-damned bag?

The crew whispered around him day and night, murmurs of suspicion and unease. What’s in the bag? Treasure, like the strange wind minions of Aeolus? Or something more sinister?

“There’s no way there’s a storm in the bag, one had muttered to his friend over dinner. “What bullshit. Just because he says it’s from a god doesn’t mean it’s plausible.”

“Bet he just doesn’t want to share,” another shrugged.

“Enough, both of you,” Eurylochus had snapped, sick of listening to them. But he regretted it when they looked over at him.

“Like you’re not curious,” the second had rolled his eyes.

“Aren’t you supposed to be the representative of the crew? Can’t you just go peek at that bag?” The first asked, taking a drink from his cup with a raised eyebrow. Eurylochus shook his head firmly.

“No. I trust the captain. Whatever’s in that bag, he’s withholding it for the good of the crew.”

“What are we, children?” The first scoffed. “We’re grown men. We deserve to know what’s going on.”

Eurylochus had dismissed them both, ordered them to hurry up with their dinner and go above deck for their night shifts.

But for all his confidence, he could not stop thinking about that godsdamned bag.

Somehow, it even got into his dreams! He woke up one night, sweating, shaking, hearing the screams echoing from inside the bag. They sounded eerily similar to the ones from the cyclops’ cave, from the comrades they had managed to save, and those they hadn’t.

It was driving him mad.

And so, when Odysseus finally passed out, having forgotten to lock his cabin door in his sleep-deprived haze, Eurylochus cast a glance around the deck, before slipping inside.

Odysseus was flat on his back, an unusually vulnerable position for the war-hardened king, snoring directly at the ceiling. It made Eurylochus think of the time when, in their boyhood, he had fallen asleep leaning on him after some particularly tough training with Athena. Eurylochus had merely shaken his head and carried Odysseus back to the palace; he knew not of whether Euryclea had ever told Odysseus how he’d woken up in his bed when he’d last been awake in the middle of the forest.

And tucked into- or rather, slightly squashed under- his arm, was that cursed bag. It looked so plain, but there was something game-changing in there. He could feel it.

He slowly stepped forward, stealth difficult with his size, but he could make his touch gentle as he carefully shifted Odysseus’ arm off of the bag, grasping it by the rope it was tied with, lifting it from the bed-

“Eurylochus.”

He froze at the familiar voice, punctuated with the slightly-less-familiar thump of wood on wood. The wind bag hung in the air, blatant evidence of his crime.

Polites was standing in the doorway, an uncharacteristic frown on his face. He leaned heavily on his crutch, and Eurylochus winced at every thunk it made as he limped deeper into the captain’s room.

“My friend, what are you doing?” He asked with a rare tone of sternness. The barely-healed scar puckered his downturned lips, his head wrapped with both bandages and his deep red headband. Perimedes had once joked you couldn’t tell where the bloodied bandages ended and the famous headband began.

Eurylochus couldn’t make himself meet his eyes, slowly lowering the wind bag back down beside the captain’s arm, though his grip on it only tightened. “Polites. Aren’t you supposed to be in the infirmary getting your bandages changed? It’s almost sunset.”

“Don’t change the subject. My bandages can wait ten minutes.” Polites hobbled closer, and Eurylochus was surprised at how tempting it was to shrink back from the smaller man’s displeasure. “Tell me why you’re betraying our captain’s trust.”

Eurylochus looked down at the sleeping king’s face. “Polites, do you really believe that there’s a storm in this bag? Surely you agree that his claim is absurd..”

“Just because it is absurd does not mean it is impossible. We have seen stranger things in the war, have we not?” Polites pressed. “And if he is telling the truth, opening that bag would put us, all of us, in danger. I was awake for the storm, remember? I may have been in the infirmary and wasn’t seeing most of the damage, but it was bad enough to reopen one of my wounds just lying still, for goodness’ sake.”

Eurylochus pressed his lips together. “The crew is mistrustful…”

“The crew does not know him as well as you and I!” Polites thunked closer, close enough to place his free hand on Eurylochus’s arm. “My friend, you know Odysseus has our best interests at heart. And we know Odysseus is doing everything in his power to get us home fast, safe and sound. He would not do anything to jeopardize that. He’s a warrior of the mind- well, Athena may have revoked that title when they fought,” he muttered. “But that’s beside the point. What reason would our Odysseus have to lie to us about something so dangerous?”

Eurylochus still couldn’t meet his eyes, his face now flushing with shame and embarrassment. Polites was right; he was being paranoid. Perhaps the war had taken a greater toll on him then he cared to admit to himself.

He slowly lowered the bag back into Odysseus’ patiently waiting arms.

Polites smiled at him, and nodded once. “Thank you, my friend.”

Eurylochus sighed and shook his head. “Thank you, for helping me see reason,” he murmured, finally meeting his old comrade’s gaze.

His glasses were cracked and crooked, but behind them his eyes were still shining with that same earnestness they always had, the same openness that Eurylochus had always admired.

Polites shook his head, gesturing him towards the door. “It was nothing. You can relax, my friend. It can be our secret.”

Eurylochus hesitated, then shook his head as he followed Polites’ clunky steps toward the deck. “No…we’ll tell him when he wakes. I don’t like keeping secrets. He should know what a fool his second-in-command is.”

Polites chuckled lightly, stepping out into the wind of the sea and the rays of the brilliant sunset, tousling his curly hair and sparkling on his glasses. “If that helps the guilt inside your heart,” he murmured, bumping his elbow against Eurylochus’ side. Eurylochus would have returned it, had the idea not caused him great fear of hurting his still-recovering friend.

Eurylochus nodded. “Yes…now go get your bandages changed up. I’ll stand guard outside his door and make sure no one tries to make the same mistake as me.”

Polites smiled approvingly. “Good man.”

And with that, he hobbled off towards the infirmary. The light of the dying sun reflected off the wine dark sea, leaving Eurylochus to do the same on his actions.

[coquelicoq]

the emperor is clearly setting up fan xian to take over the country but not, i think, as next emperor...i think he's hoping that the next "phase" of societal development will be kicked off by fan xian. like, the monarchy will be abolished and fan xian will be in charge. he thinks monarchy is stupid and the only person he trusts to abolish it right is the guy whose consciousness is a partial copy of his own. why else would he be assisting fan xian in consolidating power (or rather, sort of forcing power onto fan xian from all sides, even though all fan xian wants to do is live a carefree life and not have anyone trying to kill him) while at the same time allowing fan xian's gross breaches of etiquette and respect toward the emperor, and not only allowing them but bringing attention to them in front of everyone and being like, aw, you kooky guy, not kneeling to me. you're so funny. live your truth. like that's actually insane?? bixia i am obsessed with you.

[jaybee2000]

nolite te bastardes carborundorum.

We will get through this. Because fuck them that’s why. I will work to make this world better out of spite. Because they will not make me despair. I will not be paralyzed. I will fight and I will use my voice until they are tired of hearing it. I’m going to make them remember that I matter, that all people matter. If all they care about is strength we have to be stronger than them. We have to be louder. We have to care deeper. We have to work harder. Because it’s the right thing to do. But also because FUCK THEM.

Don’t let the bastards get you down.

[lavenderrdaughter]

🧍‍♀️

[sherlock-is-ace]

.

[creative-anchorage]

That is what social media does, it floods you with the world’s pain. […It’s] been taken over by people sending me images from Israel and Gaza, and they think they’re doing good things, they think they’re making sure no one is looking away.  There is an assumption from people who are very passionate that because someone isn’t posting these images then they must not care, because the only way that person knows how to care is to post the images.  I noticed I was doing less good because I was so distressed by the world that, counterintuitively you think, oh, I’m not burying my head in the sand, look at me observing and acknowledging the distress of the world. That is ethical only if you put it into action. If it makes you do nothing but feel distressed then you have to ask yourself the question, who else is suffering for my distress? […] It’s not that I’ve buried my head in the sand, I just need to have agency in what I’m seeing and what I’m reading.

[iamnotlookingidonotseeit]

sometimes I tell my parents things. often then i wonder why i even open my mouth. but when I keep it light I end up wondering why I can't seem to connect on any real kind of level. and I add another thing to the list for therapy