#so instead they utterly despise each other

[hyacinths-in-a-storm]

Genuinely what was going through Iroh’s mind as he said that fighting the Firelord was the ‘Avatar’s battle’. Yeah I understand that history will see it as a power grab, but I think we have bigger problems than that. Like, I don’t know, THE FACT THAT SOZIN’S COMET IS IN A FEW HOURS AND THE AVATAR IS NOWHERE TO BE FOUND.

[genderqueerdykes]

there really is a cultural pressure for transmascs & men to detransition, and it comes from all sides. it comes from the queer community too, not just terfs and cishet transphobes.

it took me a while to realize why transphobic people and transandrophobic queers utterly despise trans guys & mascs who are over the age of like 25- it's because it pisses them right off that we've resisted their attempts to make us detransition. it makes them so angry to see they were unable to groom that person into a life of self-shame and repression. it really seems like MOST people believe that trans men will just detransition eventually in life? people NEVER think about older trans men, only teenage trans boys and trans men in their very early twenties.

when i was involved with my local punk scene i was addressed with condescension, almost everyone around me didn't accept transmasculinity as a legitimate identity and thought that we would've transitioned by now in life. i encountered folks who would talk about transmasculinity with subtle disgust that made me feel like i was doing something wrong, and people who expressed overt disgust, saying in plain english that they were disgusted by breasts and vaginas because they were gay men. all along the way i was literally mocked for not having a penis, and one of my roommates started treating me differently once they found out i didn't have one (because they were attracted to me)

i've been on T for 9 years, and been out as a trans man for a bit longer than that, and i noticed as i've aged i've also attracted a lot of folks who have tried to deter me from identifying as a trans man, either through directly telling me that trans men are inherently dangerous, or by implying that women or another gender are safer, quieter, calmer, "less traumatizing to be around," etc. one of my exes told me they were terrified to date me (despite literally going out of their way to do so for over half a year) because they were scared i would be transphobic to them because i'm a transmasculine lesbian.

i received pressure from online friends to either detransition and become an intersex butch woman, or to something feminine adjacent or nonbinary. for years i dealt with a few friends who kept subtly hinting that i should stop identifying as a trans man or trans masc because of how awful transmascs are- going as far as to sending me screenshots of transmascs speaking, complaining about them and calling them whiny, annoying. talking about how all transmascs are entitled, how all transmascs take things too personally, how we complain too much, and so on.

people make no effort to make space for transmascs and men. i met 0 transmascs in my local punk community that i was able to stay in contact with. none. i met a few in passing but none that actually were introduced to me in a capacity where i could actually try to befriend them. it really felt like other punks in the scene were desperately trying to keep the transmascs apart at times. excuses were made as to why i couldn't hang out with other transmascs i liked, but i was constantly being forced to befriend transphobic cis gay men and transandrophobic transfemmes who outwardly expressed hatred and disgust of us. it really felt like it was on purpose... almost as if other members of this community wanted our attention, but never wanted us to give each other attention or a sense of community. like we were objects, not people to be included in the community for real. satellite friends, if you will.

i'll be honest with you. i was at my lowest at this point. i realized i wasn't just a trans man and that i'm a genderqueer person who experiences multiple genders, including womanhood and an "other" gender, which was great. however now i was being forced to completely stuff down being a man for the sake of other people. instead of folks telling me they'd rather not hang out with transmascs, folks rather just attempted to guilt me for identifying as such in the hopes i'd stop identifying that way. i was being told daily that trans men and mascs are inherently violent and terrible to be around. i was in discord servers where transmascs were being kicked constantly for getting even slightly upset about transandrophobia, or being unfairly targeted by staff.

it's violence, but nobody wants to call it that. i pulled myself out of there and am now able to contact other transmascs and trans men who are proud of who they are and have elevated me back into a headspace where it's okay to truly be myself. just keep in mind that if you feel like you're in that situation, you're not alone. people who attempt to groom others are often very subtle it's not always up front. they will start slipping in hateful sentiments very slowly and make you feel like maybe they're the ones who are actually right.

it feels good to be an almost 32 year old trans guy. there's nothing to be ashamed about there. people project their feelings on to my gender and that has nothing to do with me. it has nothing to do with you, either. people will just project on to you for whatever reason- hatred is usually the motivator there. if you encounter folks who keep trying to badger you out of identifying as your gender, no matter who you are, transmasc, transfemme, transneutral, trans anything- they are not good for you. they are not your friends. they do not accept you as you are and you deserve so much better.

[fawnduu]

do you have any advice for a newly public creator dealing with the lingering psychic damage of a mean spirited bad faith interpretation of their work?

I know it's silly to get hung up on, but that doesn't keep the negative thoughts and hypothetical arguments from bubbling up once in a while

asking because you seem like the sort of creator who gets an exciting and unpredictable mix of adoration and bile, and yet you still seem pretty chill and extremely (admirably, inspirationally, deservedly) confident in the work you do

...or maybe the question is more like: you make good art; how do you know that you make good art? how do you keep knowing?

This is something I've had to deal with a lot recently and I'd be lying if I said it hasn't ever bothered me. In my early 20s especially I agonized over every bad faith reading someone could take on what I was making.

Eventually I realized there is no possible way to tell a story that appeals to every person on earth. Someone is going to absolutely despise what you are making no matter how hard you try but that doesn't mean it's not worth making. For every person who hates your comics and everything you do there is someone who cherishes them.

Over the years I've had a lot of really kind people reach out to tell me how much the stories meant to them or made them finally realize they were gay or trans. You have to let those messages shine brighter than the few bad ones even though the bad feel incredibly loud. Part of that comes from protecting your peace and just not engaging with bad faith messages. I also just in general have a rule of if I'm feeling really charged about something rather than post about it, I go talk to my friends instead. The people who know me best and can give me contextual advice and comfort. I don't want to encourage a space for people to pick fights and argue with each other or me.

As for confidence, I am confident in the stories because I cater the stories entirely to my particular taste. If I'm loving making it and having a good time it's going to exude confidence. If I'm holding myself back it's going to feel toothless. Characters have mess, no story is ever going to be perfect but if you have fun telling it and making it that's where the magic happens!!! I find peace in stories that are campy and messy and just someone having fun with it. If you set the bar too high for media you are 'allowed' to think is good, how will you ever clear that bar yourself???

Ultimately the answer to "how do you keep making art despite it all" is a good network of friends, cutting yourself off from negative feedback loops, touching grass, and just making your stories/art so utterly catered to you that you wake up with a burning desire to create despite it all.

[amazingmsme]

Appetite for Trouble

AN: day 12 is finally here!!! My favorite fic I’ve written so far, which is blatantly obvious by the fact it clocks in over 9k. The mischief prompt was literally perfect for my boy Asterios, I couldn’t pass it up! This is one hefty boi, so grab some snacks & settle on in!

Now with a sequel here!

Being a demigod, things had always been...different for Asterios. Growing up, trouble nipped at his heels wherever he went. People treated him harshly or with a short temper, while his own emotions remained unchecked. A peaceful dinner would soon become a screaming match once he sat at the table.

As he got older, Asterios learned of his heritage and the unwanted powers that came with it. He had always felt stronger when people fought in his presence, and despite how great it felt, he utterly despised it. It did nothing but tie him to his birth mother, and offer a legitimate reason for others to keep their distance. As he grew from a boy to a man, he managed to bend his powers to his benefit. A playful argument, some mischievous roughhousing, nothing too serious, but with just enough discourse to provide a decent energy surge. It wasn't easy, but he managed shift the crew's frustrated tension into a more lighthearted chaos on more than one occasion.

It all started one long, boring afternoon.

Most of them were gathered on the deck, lounging about while others idly performed their tasks. Polites was rambling about something that Asterios couldn't hear from across the deck.

Instead, he planted the seed of mischief inside Elpenor's mind: it would be really fun to tickle Polites right now. He won't even see it coming.

Asterios noticed when the idea took root in his mind. The way he sat up straight, eyes darting to look Polites up and down, as if sizing him up.

Polites felt the gaze boring into him from behind and turned around, cocking his head. "Hey, what's with the look?" he asked innocently.

"Nothin' I'm just bored. So anyway, on a scale of one to ten, how ticklish do you think you are?" Elpenor asked out of the blue. Polites froze, sputtering out an answer.

"Wha- I- uh- I can't say,"Polites said scooting away from his friend, a blush already spreading across his cheeks.

"Guess we should find out then."

"No, we shouldn't!"

"Why, you afraid you're gonna be a ten?"

"Yes- I MEAN NO! Elpenor, wait!"

But there was no time for waiting. He dug his fingers into his sides, causing Polites to flinch away with a giggly squeal. He fell off the barrel he'd been sitting on, and Elpenor pounced.

"Yep, I think you're just a lil nervous to find out how ticklish you really are, but that's okay! You're in good hands!"

"I'm ihihin fucking evil hands, lehehet mehe goooo!"

Elpenor faked a gasp at the obscenity. "Language! Where did you learn to talk like that?"

"From me," Odysseus said, walking up from behind. Everyone froze; a flock of startled sheep. The captain had a relaxed stride and a smirk on his face, so the tension eased slightly.

Asterios saw a golden opportunity and took it.

I should join him. It's been ages since I've made Polites scream for mercy.

Odysseus reeled back at the thought, blinking in surprise as he tried to casually look around. Was it just him, or did the voice sound like...

Asterios stood his ground when the Captain looked his way, squinting. Everyone around him was tuned in, looking away would be more suspicious, would it not? By the Gods, he hoped he was playing his cards right.

Odysseus looked away with a smirk. "So, you want a hand?"

"Odysseus, come on!" Polites whined at the betrayal.

"I'd love one!" Elpenor chirped happily, wrestling their victim's arms above his head as Odysseus sat across his waist.

~~~

Asterios waited a few days before he struck again.

Another bout of boredom stretched across the ship, ensnaring the entirety of the crew in its jaws. That just couldn't stand.

Asterios spotted Leander and Plutarch engaged in a sparring match, grappling each other in the middle of the deck. There was a rope loosely marking the boundaries of their wrestling ring.

Leander circled him like a shark, sporting a sly grin. Plutarch smiled back briefly before falling into a deep concentration.

Suddenly, he lunged forth, slamming into the larger man with all his weight. Leander slid back a few feet as he fought to regain control. He had height on him, but Plutarch had made it clear that they were pretty evenly matched in strength.

He dodged to the side, panting for breath before he was wrestled to the ground, pinned with his face against the wood, one arm behind him.

"Do you yield?" he asked playfully, stretching his arm back. Leander grimaced, but shook his head.

"Never!"

They made this almost too easy.

I bet if I tickle him, he'll change his mind.

Plutarch almost gasped at the intrusive thought, a pale blush dusting his cheeks. Until now, he'd made it a point to avoid their mischievous antics, but it would seem they've started to rub off on him. His hand hovered above the back of his ribs, hesitant.

C'mon, he can't even fight back. What's the worst that'll happen? So against his better judgment, Plutarch poked a curious finger between his ribs.

Leander jumped so hard, he nearly knocked him off his perch. Plutarch arched a brow and repeated the motion. He was rewarded with a rumbly chuckle and flinch to the side.

He tried to stand up, but Plutarch panicked and shoved his hands under his arms, scribbling haphazardly, but hey, that seemed to be working just fine. Leander flopped onto the deck, hiding his face in the crook of his arm while deep belly laughs escaped him.

Asterios couldn't help but smirk as he watched the pair tussle on the ground. Good, they need this. A little bit of mischief never killed anyone.

He winced as a shrill squeal filled the air, looking over to see that Plutarch had managed to pin his arms above his head, raking blunt nails over his exposed hollows. Asterios let a sly chuckle slip out, shaking his head fondly as he stood and vanished into the crowd. As far as he was concerned, his work here was done.

~~~

Asterios knew he had to wait to strike again, less anyone catch on. It was a close call the first time with Odysseus, but he supposed he didn't know. If he did, he was sure he'd have been keelhauled. It was just a coincidence. One that had him paranoid, and he mentally marked Odysseus off the list as a future pawn in this little game of his.

Over a week had passed by, the crew growing restless once more, and he was not immune to the monotony of sea life.

He was walking down the hall when he paused, noticing Perimedes walk into one of the side rooms for a physical checkup. Oh this was too good to resist.

As soon as the door shut, he turned down the hall and stood outside the door, listening. He crouched down, watching through the keyhole for any sort of cue to work off of. Sage, one of their resident medics, had Perimedes laid on his back on a wooden exam table. Sage felt around his neck and shoulders, and even from his limited vantage point, he could see the way Perimedes tensed at the touch.

Is he ticklish? Asterios planted the idea in his mind like a sprouting seed. Sage blinked in surprise and looked his patient up and down. He shook his head, continuing the physical. He moved his hands down to his stomach and gently kneaded towards the center of his belly outwards, right above the hip bones.

Perimedes grunted and twitched away, shooting a glare at the medic. "Watch it."

"Sorry, didn't know you were tickli-"

"I'm not," he cut him off defensively. Sage paused and tilted his head curiously. 

He's too cocky for his own good.

"I'm sorry, of course not. How silly of me," he apologized curtly before resuming the probing touch, this time intentionally trying to tickle.

"Hehey w-whahat do you thihink you're doing?"

"I'm just proceeding with the exam. I thought you said you weren't ticklish?"

Asterios stood up with a proud smirk, dusting off his hands.

"I'm not!"

"Then why're you laughing so much? You coming down with a case of the giggles?"

"Thehehe what?"

"Oh dear, I'm afraid you are. And there's only one treatment."

"No- no Sage, gehet awahay from me!"

Asterios turned back down the main hall, heading towards the upper deck as the sound of panicked laughter grew louder even as he walked away.

~~~

It was… nice seeing the others smile and laugh, knowing he had a hand in it. It’s not that he didn’t want to personally put his friends in their place, he just… didn’t know how. His tough, grim persona did well at hiding the fact that he was nothing more than some shy, awkward, guy. But it also helped him go unnoticed.

He leaned against the wall, watching Elpenor and Aridolis from afar. He wasn’t sure what they were talking about, so he tried to go about his plan in a subtle way.

Whatever Aridolis had said apparently sent him on a tangent. Asterios smirked at his chance.

I bet I know what’ll make him shut up.

Elpenor didn’t notice the smirk that spread across Ari’s face until it was too late.

“Nohoho wahahait! W-what dihid I ever dohoho to you?”

~~~

Asterios didn't notice at first, but he always felt great after these random bouts of mischief. He was bolder, stronger, lighter on his feet. He began doing hard, intense labor that was usually reserved for people like Eurylochus or Leander. He even beat both of them in an arm wrestling match, back to back.

Needless to say, the outwardly cocky demeanor from the usually quiet and stoic man was a noticeable enough change for his crew mates to comment on.

"So glad to see you finally come out of your shell! I knew you just needed some time," Polites chirped, winking at him as he walked up beside him and bumped their shoulders together. Asterios ducked his head and smiled, something dangerous lurking beneath it.

"You know what? I think I really am," he purred, almost on the verge of a growl. Polites eyed him warily, scooting away ever so slight. Because even the friendliest amongst them knew exactly what he was.

"Well, I'm glad to hear it! We're all brothers now, it's about damn time we started acting like it," he said, a hint of amusement lacing his voice. Asterios crossed his arms, leaning back against the railing as he looked at Polites with a softer grin.

"Seems like some of them already are."

Polites chuckled and shook his head. "They're all a piece of work, I tell you. But... it's nice to hear laughter on the ship again. Good to know they can still have fun."

Asterios felt his smile falter at the indirect compliment, a faint blush creeping across his cheeks.

"So how 'bout you?"

Asterios practically jumped out of his skin. "Huh?"

"I don't think I've ever heard you laugh, all this time."

He rolled his eyes exaggeratedly, "Oh come on, that's not true! I laugh, I just don't laugh often," he clarified. "I'm not a giggly little bitch like some people," he added, looking him up and down. Polites scoffed loudly, jaw hitting the floor.

"Wha- are you talking about me?"

"And a few others," he couldn't hold back a sly chuckle. "There. See? I can laugh."

"Yeah, at my expense," Polites accused playfully. Asterios merely shrugged smugly.

"Yeah, and?"

Polites stared at him long and hard, fingers twitching by his sides before he shook his head.

"No, not today. I'll get you when you least expect it," Polites ultimately decided and started walking away.

The smirk fell from his lips, shoulders dropping as the color drained from his face.

"Wait- what do you mean? Polites, what do you mean?" he called out after him. He turned around to face Asterios, walking backwards and wiggling his fingers. Since when did Polites of all people get scary? Then he thought for a moment about who he grew up with and smacked himself in the head. Of course.

Speak of the devil, Polites bumped into him, and he smiled, slinging an arm around his shoulder. Asterios felt a chill run up his spine. He could see Polites say something that made Odysseus chuckle and glance his way.

He was fucked. Scratch that, he was beyond fucked. Asterios turned bright red and abruptly made his way below deck, shoulder checking Leander on his way.

~~~

Needless to say, he was nervous, but the more time passed, the more he relaxed.  Polites was easy going, he let him off with a warning this time; and he knew that his little guard dog Ody wouldn't attack without orders. He heaved a sigh of relief: he was safe.

For now.

He laid low for well over a month, but of course the mischief didn't stop. Arguments needed settling, pranks were pulled and required revenge, people were plain old bored.

Julien was lounging on the stairs to the upper deck, legs stretched out before him. His head was tilted back and eyes closed, seemingly enjoying the warm sunshine. Elpenor and Perimedes sat on either side of him, staggered on the lower steps.

He was one of the few other demigods aboard the ship, so Asterios would say they got along just fine. It was nice to know he wasn't the only one with divinity in their blood, making itself known through different ways. They both had wings; Asterios with his neatly tucked behind his ears, and Julian with a pair at his ankles. The crew was more than curious about the extra appendages, which was why Asterios almost always kept his hidden. Unfortunately for Julien, they remained in plain view. And right now, were well within reach.

"So can you fly with them?" Elpenor asked, eyeing them as his hand inched closer on the step. Perimedes smirked, carefully watching his movements and mirroring them.

"Not really, but I can hover and glide when I really need to," he answered.

"Oh, so they're just for show?"

Julien let out a slightly annoyed huff. "Sure, I guess."

"So why are they red like that?" Perimedes asked, causing him to tense up immediately upon hearing the question.

"I'd rather not talk about it."

Elpenor shot his friend a look, stomping on his foot to signal that was the wrong thing to say. Perimedes hissed in pain and shot him a look back.

"Well I think it looks great on you," Elpenor chirped, running his fingers through the downy feathers. Julien gasped and shot upright, tucking his knees to his chest while his wings pressed themselves flush against his skin for protection.

"Oh? What's this?"

Asterios never stuck around for long, regardless if he was the cause or not. As soon as laughter filled the air, he was looking for a way out. Don't get him wrong, he loved feeding off the unhinged chaos, but something about it all brought on a hot burning embarrassment and something else he couldn't quite describe.

Fear? Hell no, no way in all of Tartarus was he afraid of fucking child's play such as tickling. Maybe it was more of a fear of rejection? That he wasn't good enough to join their games, so he excludes himself before anyone else could.

Sound logic, but not quite.

Or perhaps it was uncertainty. He had no idea if he was ticklish or not, and he wasn't too keen on finding out. Yes, the others looked like they were having fun, but he had to remind himself that it's all forced and most saw it as a form of punishment and torture. So he wasn't about to let anyone turn him into a giggly little bitch, per his own words. 

He was frozen where he sat, his heart racing as he watched the pair team up against the other demigod. His wings began to tingle and he bit back a whine, shaking his head and pressing them deeper into the mass of curls. He could only imagine how awful that felt, and he did feel somewhat sorry for him. Not sorry enough to go help, mind you, but sorry nonetheless.

Julien kicked his legs out, barking out a laugh when Elpenor scribbled the base of the wing as he tried to climb backwards up the stairs. Asterios felt a shiver run down his spine and a blush spread across his cheeks. Perimedes grabbed his other leg in a headlock and he stood up abruptly, stretching to try and come off as casual before heading to the opposite side of the deck.

"Asterios! Come to help?" Elpenor called out enticingly, countered by the frantic screech of protest from Julien, "No don't!"

Asterios stood still when called, sparing a glance at the trio and wishing he hadn't, embarrassment swirling in his gut. He had to resist the urge to hide behind his wings, knowing he'd never live it down. He played it as cool as he possibly could, snorting in amusement.

"You fuckin' wish." He quickly went on his way, eager to get away from the scene.

"Wait! Hehehelp mehehe!"

Asterios knew better than to look back. If he saw the desperate face that matched the voice, he'd cave and go back to save him. The martyr, who would be thrown to the wolves in his place. No fucking thank you.

"Sorry, but someone's gotta get the work done around here. You have fun though! Maybe try fighting back or something," he called, without so much as a second glance.

Odysseus watched the exchange from where he stood at the wheel, humming thoughtfully. He made note of it for later, the pieces finally falling into place.

~~~

If only he'd known Odysseus was onto him. If only he knew, he would've never gone after him. He should've known better after that first time, when Odysseus shut him down with a piercing glare that bore into his soul. The captain was smart, much smarter than Asterios ever was, and more calculating.

It was a mistake to assume he'd be just as clueless as the rest of them.

It might've also been a mistake to use Eurylochus as a pawn, but he was curious! He just wanted to see if the first mate had a playful bone in his body, to see that stoic demeanor crack when Odysseus inevitably turned the tables.

He was standing underneath the main sail, struggling to reach a dangling rope. Eurylochus watched on with a poorly concealed smirk.

"Need a hand, Captain?"

"No thanks, I'm good," he dismissed the offer, still straining to grab the frayed ends. Eurylochus let out a low chuckle, shaking his head fondly.

"Whatever you say."

Asterios saw the way he smirked, watching the captain from the corner of his eye. It was too tempting not to pass up.

It would be so easy to tickle him right now, he left himself wide open.

He watched the way Eurylochus stiffened, seemingly studying Odysseus and weighing his options.

What the hell, he could use a good laugh.

Making sure he was still distracted, Eurylochus reached up and scribbled against his stretched ribs. He slammed his arms down with a borderline shriek, whipping around to glare at Eurylochus. There was a fire in his eyes and a danger to his smile. Eurylochus balked, unsure why he thought that was a good idea. He knew he wouldn't get away with a stunt like that, and he'd never do that in front of the crew because Odysseus would fucking kill him.

"Did you really just do that?" he asked, a smirk already playing at his lips.

"I'm sorry Sir, I-I don't know what came over me-"

"I do," Odysseus bragged.

Eurylochus arched a brow, standing a little straighter in confusion. "What?"

Suddenly, Odysseus grabbed him by the forearm and tugged him close enough to whisper in his ear, "I'll tell you later. Right now, just play along and laugh. Easy enough?"

"E-excuse me?"

"Sorry, but I have to make an example out of you." In one swift motion, he yanked his arm above his head, spinning them around to pin him against the mast. He adjusted his grip to the other hand before drilling his thumbs in the center of his hollows. Eurylochus threw his head back, lost to bouts of deep, rumbling laughter.

So obviously, he was more than reluctant when the captain called him into his quarters.

Eurylochus knocked on the door hesitantly before testing the knob. It was unlocked, and he stepped inside.

"Captain?"

"Oh good, you're here. Sit down," he gestured to an empty chair as he finished writing something at his desk.

Eurylochus did as he was told. "So, what did you want to speak about? I hope this wasn't a trap," he teased lightly. Odysseus chuckled, shaking his head.

"I can see why you'd think that. But no, unlike some people on this ship, I'm man enough to face a challenge head on."

Eurylochus reeled back, blinking in shock. "Sir?"

"The men have been more rowdy than usual, wouldn't you agree?" Odysseus continued as though he hadn't spoken. Eurylochus inhaled sharply through his nose and exhaled a deep, heavy sigh.

"That's one word for it," he mused.

"And why do you think that is?" Odysseus asked as he crossed his arms over his chest, not quite sitting on his desk, but leaning heavily.

"We've been away from home for years, and we haven't docked in months. Men grow bored," he reasoned. The captain shook his head.

"Men, or man?"

Eurylochus closed his eyes, letting out a tired, "What?"

"I think someone's been pulling a few strings..." This seemed to grab his first mate's attention.

"What?" he repeated, more serious and less exasperated this time. "What are you getting at?" he asked cautiously.

"Just think about it. We have demigods amongst our ranks; we don't even know everything they're capable of."

"You don't think maybe they're just having fun? We're in a war, Odysseus, let them laugh while they can."

"And were you "just having fun" when you pulled your little stunt?" he questioned smugly, cocking his head expectantly as Eurylochus snapped his mouth shut. "Or did an enticing little voice in your head make the suggestion?"

He gasped, staring at Odysseus in shock. "How did you-"

"I'm an observant guy," he said, cutting him off.

"So... who do you think is responsible?"

"Asterios, there's no doubt in my mind."

"The quiet one?" Eurylochus arched a brow. "Why?"

"He's the son of Eris."

"And that makes him guilty?"

Odysseus huffed and rolled his eyes. "No, everything else does. That just explains how he's able to do it."

Eurylochus leaned back in the chair, "Everything else?"

"You ever notice how he never sticks around to watch? But he's got this sly, smug look the whole time. And after a particularly hectic day, he gets stronger. Remember when he beat you at arm wrestling?"

"Don't remind me."

"I think he gets stronger afterwards. It would explain why he's suddenly so helpful around the ship."

"You've given this a lot of thought, haven't you?"

"I know I'm right about this."

"You better be, because you'll make an ass out of yourself if you're wrong."

"When have I ever been wrong?" Eurylochus opened his mouth to speak, but Odysseus cut him off, "Don't answer that."

The first mate mulled it over in his mind. ""Why are you so sure that anyone is behind this?"

"Because I know you well enough to know you'd never try and get me in front of the whole crew. You're smarter than that."

"Thank you?"

"But it felt irresistible, didn't it? The need to cause chaos? I felt it too, when I got Polites a while back."

"Which time?" he teased. Odysseus narrowed his eyes.

"With Elpenor."

"Yeah, which time?" he repeated tauntingly. Odysseys laughed and shoved his shoulder playfully.

"Oh shut up! Maybe it's not always his fault, but it's more often than you'd think."

Eurylochus sighed. "So? What are you gonna do about it?" A sinister grin slowly spread across the captain's face.

"Alright, so here's what I'm thinking..."

~~~

It was a day like any other, and Asterios had no reason to feel on edge. He sat with Leander and Plutarch, idly carving hunks of wood and brushing the shavings underneath the railing when the pile grew too high.

He was trying to carve a figurine of Cetus. Growing up, he had always been enamored with the sea monster constellation, and when his true parentage came to light, it made sense. Eris explained to him that the creatures in the sky were her pets, and Cetus had always been one of her favorites. She even said that when she would check in on him, Cetus would be watching from over her shoulder.

A fairytale to tell her child. If she wanted to fill his head with stories, she should've done so a long time ago. Yet, he found comfort in the presumed lie, and he didn't know what else to carve. Maybe if they really did watch him, this would make them happy.

Was he fucking carving this to impress his mother? He shook the thought out of his head.

He didn't pay much attention when the captain walked up from below deck. That is, until he called his name.

"Asterios, a word?"

He didn't sound... angry, but there was a dangerous edge hiding beneath his words. Asterios held his breath, not daring to move an inch.

"Yes?"

"Relax, I just want to talk."

That was never a good sign, and Leander and Plutarch were already exchanging curious glances. Fuck.

"Come, walk with me," Odysseus invited with a deceptively warm smile. Asterios didn't answer for a long moment before he caved.

"Yes Sir. No one touch my fucking carving," he threatened as he stood, brushing himself off. He followed the captain, trying to ignore the looks he received. He still saw the way Elpenor mouthed the words "you're in trouble," and he looked away, feeling heat rise to his cheeks.

Gods, did he have to take him all the way to the front of the ship? Yes they were "alone," but everyone could see him inevitably get chewed out and overhear every word.

"May I ask what this is about? Have I done anything wrong, Sir?"

"Oh I think you know exactly what this is about."

Shit. Asterios began to panic, but outwardly played dump.

"What are you talking about?"

"I don't know, you tell me."

This felt like a game, and he didn't like his odds of winning.

"Tell you what?" he asked hesitantly.

"I'm mostly just curious in how you did it. I can get the why, I just can't understand the how."

Asterios furrowed his brows, tilting his head in confusion. "Captain? Are you feeling okay?" He asked, playing up his concern for his wellbeing. Odysseus glared at him as he spoke.

"I'm fine-"

"Okay, because for a minute there, you were talking like you drank sea water or something- ow!" Asterios rubbed the back of his head where Odysseus smacked him.

"Now, you ready to listen?" he asked, waiting for him to nod. "Good. Because I'm not mad, I just want you to own up to it, okay?"

Asterios's heart pounded in his chest, but he remained still. "There's nothing to own up to," he lied. Odysseus sighed, shaking his head.

"You sure you don't just wanna do things the easy way? I'm serious about not being mad, I honestly thought it was kinda funny."

Asterios whipped his head over to look at him.

"Thought what was funny?" Asterios held firm to the act. He already came this far, backing down now would be a death sentence.

"Okay, don't say I didn't warn you." Odysseus cupped his hands around his mouth, taking a deep breath to shout across the deck.

"Wait!" Asterios cried, unsure of what he was about to say and took his last chance to explain. Odysseus lowered his arms with a proud grin. "Just- let me explain."

"Oh, please do."

Asterios looked around for any chance at escape, but both Eurylochus and Polites stood nearby on either side of the railing, clearly ready to grab him if he tried to run. Polites noticed him staring and he flashed a bright smile, waving at him with wiggling fingers. Asterios glared at him, cheeks dusted pink and jaw clenched tightly.

He flinched when Odysseus snapped his fingers in front of his face to get his attention. "Hey, your captain's speaking to you."

"Yes Sir?"

"I said I'm waiting."

Oh, what an asshole.

Asterios glared at him as he spoke, "Well, as you know, I'm a son of Eris-"

"Mhm," Odysseus hummed and nodded along, leaning against the railing casually. Asterios fought back a sneer.

"Since I was a child, I noticed people tend to fight in my presence. I've learned to control it somewhat, so that the crew wouldn't be at each other's throats," he explained, not quite looking Odysseus in the eye.

"Oh, so you're doing this for our benefit." Something about his tone set Asterios off, and he took a step back.

Odysseus was having fun toying with him. The look on his face alone was priceless; eyes wide and mouth hung open in shock, and he could see the feathers of his wings bristling beneath his hair.

"Yes?"

Odysseus grinned so wide, it nearly split his face in two. "In that case, let's go tell the crew what you so kindly did for them."

"What- no! You can't! Just fuckin' wait!"

Asterios physically felt the color drain from his face, the panic beginning to set in. Fuck, why was he telling everyone? Why couldn't he just chew him out in private, why did it have to be this public hanging of character? He would've preferred if Odysseys just drug him below deck and beat the shit out of him for daring to step out of line. That way, he could at least lick his wounds in private. Was he going to have to fight the captain in front of everyone? His mind was a whirlwind, and he couldn't keep up.

His frantic protests were ignored as the captain called his crew, "Hey everyone, Asterios has something he'd like to say."

"Shut up, no I don't!" Asterios hissed.

"That's no way to speak to the captain," Eurylochus warned, but he didn't have his usual stone cold expression, and his tone was lighthearted, almost teasing. Asterios didn't know if that made it worse or not.

Oh Gods, everyone was looking at him now, and his only chance at escape would be to throw himself overboard. He bit his tongue and stood there, completely still. Incomprehensible whispers murmured through the crowd as he just stood there, balking like a dead fish. If Odysseus wanted to humiliate him, he'd done it. But he knew this was nothing compared to whatever was to come.

"Asterios? You okay?" Leander asked, stepping closer to check on his friend. Odysseus held up a hand to stop him from getting any closer.

"Oh he's fine, just a bit shy. Aren't you bud?" he asked, slinging an arm around his shoulders. Asterios visibly stiffened and flinched away.

"Don't make me do this," he whispered, barely audible. Odysseus chuckled lowly directly in his ear, "Too late to back out now."

"Well can he get on with it? I got shit to do," Perimedes spoke up from the crowd.

"Oh I think you'll wanna hear this. But seeing as our friend is a little tongue tied, I guess I'll help explain."

Asterios felt like he was going to die. He certainly wanted to. Maybe if he wished hard enough, he could just fade from existence. His lips were pressed in a thin line and wide eyes stared at the floorboards on the deck to avoid meeting anyone’s gaze. His cheeks were steadily growing a bright pink, and his breath came slow and deep as he fought to remain calm.

Odysseus must've sensed his growing panic and was quick to try and put him at ease. A moot effort, seeing as he got him so worked up.

He squeezed his shoulder and shook him gently to loosen him up, a hearty chuckle slipping out. "Relax, will you?" he teased, enjoying stretching this out. "You're not in trouble."

"It sure seems like I am, Sir."

"What? Noooo, that wasn't my intention at all!" he feigned innocence, smirking when Asterios rolled his eyes.

"Trouble? What did he do now?" Elpenor snorted in amusement.

"What didn't he do?" he mused aloud, launching into his speech. "I'm sure you've all noticed a lot more pranks, tickle fights, and general mischief. Just this time last week, an actual food fight broke out in the mess hall. And you all have this little puppet master to thank for it," he proudly exclaimed, reaching up to ruffle his hair teasingly.

Asterios could only stand there and watch it happen. His face was burning, and he's positive he's never felt more mortified. He could hear confused voices murmur among the crowd, but his ears were ringing, and he couldn't fucking move, could barely breathe. It was like he wasn't even in control of his body.

He caught a sympathetic look from Leander, silently mouthing the words, "help me," but Leander only gave a subtle shake of the head from where he stood. He caught a glimpse of Perimedes and Elpenor peaking out from behind Polites, and all three of them looked ready to pounce.

"So wasn't there something you wanted to say to everyone?" Odysseus prompted, snapping him out of his daze.

"I'm sorry," he mumbled, eyes darting up to look at the crowd before adverting his gaze.

"No, that's not it!"

Asterios furrowed his brows, "What? I-I thought-"

"You were going to say you're welcome," he corrected ever so helpfully.

Asterios could only stand there as Odysseus shook him by the shoulders once more, trying to get him to just relax, as if he wasn’t actively digging his grave. He remained tense, and the movement was awkward and jerky. He continued to look down at his feet, scared of what he'd see if he looked out at the small crowd gathered on the deck. Harsh glares with hateful sneers, knowing looks accompanied by a teasing smirk; he didn't know which would be worse.

He chanced a glance up and realized that the second option was much worse.

"So why don't you tell him how thankful you all are."

He tried to protest, to question what he meant, but suddenly the arm around his shoulders wrapped around his throat like a vice and slammed him backwards, onto the deck. He fought against him with everything he had.

"Fuckin'- let me go! I said I'm sorry!" he yelled frantically, flailing about to keep his limbs free. His panic grew when he saw Polites skip over and pin down his legs. Okay, maybe he didn't actually skip, but he might as well have, the smug bastard.

"Relax will you? We're just gonna give you a taste of your own medicine. You can handle a little tickling, can't you?"

"Nah, he looks like a screamer," Elpenor teased, walking up with Perimedes. Asterios blushed an ungodly shade of red because Elpenor of all people did not just fucking say that about him.

"Said the screamer!" he lamely shot back, wiggling his arms free from under the captain's knees where he was pinning him before continuing to fight for his freedom.

"Think I'll like you way better when you can't talk. Eurylochus? Mind making yourself useful and get his arms?" Perimedes asked, making a show of cracking his knuckles. He swore as Eurylochus wrestled his arms above his head, glaring daggers at the first mate.

He jumped when he felt someone sit down beside him, sighing in relief when it was only Leander.

"Leander, thank the Gods! You gotta help me, they're gonna kill me!" The smirk he got in return made his heart sink.

"On the contrary, I think a little laughter and fun will do you some good!"

"You asshole, you think this is fun?" he growled. He got a much more enthusiastic agreement than he expected, prompting his blush to spread. He closed his eyes, muttering, "Zeus, just kill me now."

"Oh don't be so dramatic," Odysseus rolled his eyes and poked his belly, earning a harsh twitch and a yelp. "Just tell us where you're ticklish, and this can all be over a lot sooner."

Asterios felt panic course through him, and he bristled. "I don't know!" he rushed out before he could think better of it.

Odysseus studied him with an amused look before the smile dropped, ever so slightly. "Holy shit, you're serious aren't you?"

Asterios stared at him wordlessly, mouth gaping open though no sound escaped.

"Aaaw, now we just have to tickle him!"

"Shut the FUCK up Polites, I swear I'll- mph!" Asterios clamped his mouth shut in the middle of his sentence as Polites began softly tracing his arches.

"I'm sorry, you were saying?" he asked innocently, scratching blunt nails against delicate skin. He squeaked and tried to jerk his feet away,

But they remained trapped. His chest shook as he fought to contain his mirth.

A shy giggle slipped out when Leander began poking between his ribs. He jerked away with each touch, squealing when he suddenly pressed into an awaiting hand in his other side. He looked over to see Plutarch smirking down at him.

"You're both trahahaitors! Hehehey wahait!" he cried out when they each attacked his ribs with a flurry of pokes. A sudden electric sensation at his knees had him kicking the deck and snorting. Whoever the hell had gotten ahold of his knees was a fucking deadman-

"Ha! I knew you'd snort if I did that!" Perimedes bragged, and of course it just had to be him. He swears he's gonna rip out his fucking tongue-

"I'm sorry, you're gonna what?" he growled, resting his hands atop his knees threateningly, making him flinch.

Asterios froze, closing his eyes because he couldn't bring himself to look at any of these assholes. "Please tell me I at least said that out loud?" The rest of the crew watched on in confusion,  glancing between the two.

Perimedes shook his head, sporting a downright sinister grin. "No, I'm afraid you didn't." And then he started squeezing his knees relentlessly, sending him into a fit of snorting cackles and shrieks. He continued to berate him, "So that's how you fuckin' do it? Get inside our heads with our own thoughts? Wonder what else we'll hear when we really get you going."

Asterios screamed when he scratched the backs of his knees, nearly kicking Polites off from where he sat on his ankles.

"Wait, let me ask something," he could hear Elpenor's voice, too close for comfort, and opened his eyes to see him sitting beside Eurylochus with a smile of his own. The horrible feeling at his knees stopped and he caught his breath in between shaky residual giggles.

"So was the wet blanket prank even my idea?" Elpenor asked, leaning in a little closer. A sly, proud smirk tugged at his lips as he remembered that one. Elpenor had gathered everyone's bedding in a barrel filled with sea water and snuck the wet sheets back into everyone's rooms, making their bed with unpleasantly damp covers.

His prolonged silence and sheepish grin told him everything he needed to know.

"I was proud of that one, you bastard!" he growled, digging into his exposed pits without mercy. He barked out a loud, wheezing laugh and felt his face burn hot with embarrassment at the sound. He tugged on his arms, but he was thoroughly trapped. He wanted to die, he sure felt like he was, and he needed to escape- or hide at the very least. It was pure reflex, to snap his wings tight over his face to conceal his blushing cheeks and tearful eyes.

As he expected, there was an uproar of teasing and laughter from his tormentors and their audience.

"Aaaaww, that was so cute!"

"He can't run, but I guess he can hide!"

"What's the matter? Is someone a little embarrassed?"

Oh, so they wanted to just straight up humiliate him to death. Decimate the carefully crafted persona he'd built for himself, and leave what was left of his dignity and sanity in shreds across the deck. He'd never be able to show his face again! He certainly wouldn't be leaving his room anytime soon, and if they thought he was gonna be nice to them after this-

Elpenor grabbed one wing and gently pried it back, chuckling at the downright terrified, flustered look on his face. "Why d'you look so scared? Just relaaaax, we're all having fun," he cooed tauntingly.

Asterios scoffed, "No, you're having fun!" He'd fucking kill him for even insinuating-

"I don't know, you sound pretty happy to me," Leander spoke up with that dopey ass grin he always wore. Okay, so he'd kill both of them.

"Thanks, didn't fuckin' ahahask," he growled, breaking off in breathless snickers as Leander pinched each rib.

"That wasn't very nice," he teased, laughing along with his friend's torment, wiggling a finger between the bone. Asterios snorted and jerked away, right into Plutarch's waiting hands on his other side. And the dance repeated.

Polites noticed Aridolis lingering closer ever so slowly and smiled, waving him over. “Wanna give me a hand?” he offered, focusing all of his efforts on one foot to make room for him.

Ari immediately perked up at the offer, sitting on the ground facing him. All the while, Asterios continued to thrash and yell out threats.

“NO! Ari Ihihi swear toho thehehe Gods, i-if you lahahay aha hand on mehehe I’ll kihihill you ihin your sleep!” he growled through shrill giggles. He heard a few of them chuckling at him, and he wanted to die. If he were being honest, Tartarus would be better than this.

“Mmm, I don’t think so,” Ari hummed as he joined the fray, raking sharp claws up and down his sole. Asterios was once again thrown into hysterics.

Elpenor still hadn't let go of his wing, and it twitched, trying to tuck itself against his head for safety. The movement didn't go unnoticed, and he smirked as he rubbed the soft feathers between his fingers. Asterios let out a shrill shriek, and the wing immediately snapped back, nestling under the hair behind his ear. He couldn't help but giggle at him.

"Aw, are you winking at me?" Elpenor asked and shot him a wink in return. Asterios turned a darker shade of pink and let out an annoyed huff, tucking the other wing away angrily. "Oh come on, you're no fun," he teased, grabbing one wing and prying it open.

Asterios shook his head, giggly pleas falling from his lips. "Dohohon't you dare! Elpenor, please!"  He tried to scrunch his neck and lean away, flap his wings, anything to get away.

"Oh these are a really bad spot, aren't they?" he taunted, wiggling his fingers closer. Asterios flinched away with a nervous giggle.

"They must be, if they got him acting like that," Odysseus added.

"I'm sure they are. Remember how bad Julien screamed? Let's make this asshole scream even louder," Perimedes cracked his knuckles as he spoke, and Asterios slammed his head against the deck in defeat.

"Can you at least have the decency to kill me in silence?" he growled, hiding half his face with his free wing, unable to look at them for another second.

"How can you still be so damn grumpy?" Polites asked, scribbling beneath his toes and earning a deafening shriek. Amputation sounded pretty fuckin' good right about now.

Polites gasped, letting out a laugh of his own. "Oh you are SO dramatic! You should hear him Ody, he's worse than you!"

"Oh I heard it that time," Odysseus taunted with a playful edge to his voice. He leaned in closer to whisper, "What's the matter? Thoughts going haywire? Can't keep a grip on your powers? That's too bad."

Asterios could only squeal and giggle hysterically as Elpenor pinched and rubbed the wing between his fingers. He snorted and arched his back when he scratched at the base, feathers ruffled and twitching with every touch.

"SOHOHOMEONE FUCKING HEHEHELP!" he demanded through a screaming laugh. Julien stepped forward with an amused grin, squatting down to better look Asterios in the eye.

"Sorry, but what makes you think you deserve it? I mean, maybe if you would've helped me back when I needed it..."

The irony was not lost on him. This was some kind of cruel, poetic justice for not helping his fellow demigod from a fate clearly worse than death. He should've saved him, if only to have someone on his side when the time came. But he was so arrogant, so sure that it could never happen to him...

"Shihit, I'm sohohorry, ohokahay? I-I should've hehelped when I hahahad thehe chance!" he pleaded.

"Yeah, you should've. But you have fun though! Maybe try fighting back or something," Julien repeated his words to him, rubbing salt in the wound. But in this case, it felt more like sugar; sickeningly sweet and sticking to his skin in an unbearable manner. The tickling also left him more dazed and jittery than any sugar rush ever could.

Asterios shook his head, begging him not to do this before he grabbed his other wing. He squealed loudly when they both attacked the base of the wings with quick scratches and soft squeezes. He snorted loudly, unable to even shake his head as they held his wings in place.

Surely, anything would be better than this  strange, unusual torture, this public humiliation. This downright defamation of character. Lesson learned. He'll swear off his powers if he makes it out of this alive.

Even in his frantic state, he tried to hold these thoughts close. But Odysseus had quietly been studying him, and the words found purchase in his mind. Did he really think they were doing this just to humiliate him? That they weren't  his brothers, dragging him into a game he himself started? That they would only care about revenge, and not the absolutely adorable sounds he was making, or the lopsided grin on his face? He'd have to make sure to set the record straight. In private though, he knew better than to call him out... again.

Meanwhile Elpenor and Julien sent him into a fit of hysterical giggles with the attention given to his wings. He snorted in between shrill snickers, blushing profusely and shaking his head. He heard Elpenor gasp and felt a poke to his cheek.

"By the Gods, you have dimples? Why didn't you tell us? You look so cuuuuuute!"

"Whahat? Nohoho I don't!" Asterios cried out in confusion between bouts of laughter. It's a good thing he couldn't fucking think, because otherwise he'd be downright spiraling after that comment. But even in his delirious state, he knew it was nothing more than playful teasing. Elpenor doesn't actually think he's cute, he's just trying to get a rise out of him. Don't listen to him.

"Uh, yeah you do."

"Poor thing, didn't even know he had dimples," Odysseus added mockingly, also deciding to poke his cheek.

Polites twisted around and leaned back to look, "Aw, I wanna see!"

"Just shut uhuhup! P-plehehease! Hehehelp mehehe!" he desperately cried out for anyone to take pity on him. He thought maybe he had a chance when he locked eyes with Sage, but the medic merely shrugged and offered a sheepish, not very sympathetic, grin.

In all the time they've been away from home, it had been a rare sight to see Asterios so much as smile. It was even more rare to hear a genuine laugh from the demigod, so they were going to take advantage of the sight while they could.

But they were rather mean in their attack, and Asterios quite literally couldn't even remember the last time he'd been tickled, so he finally bid his dignity farewell and threw in the towel.

"Ohohokay- OKAHAY! Please, you wihihin! Ihihi'm sorry! IHI'M SOHOHORRY! OHO FUHUCK YOU, STOHOHOP!" His giggly begging turned to screaming pleas for mercy when Elpenor decided to blow a raspberry at the base of his wing right as he decided to talk. Odysseus held a hand up, signaling them all to stop.

They let him go and he immediately curled into a giggly ball, tucking his arms and legs as close to him as he could. His wings were plastered to his blushing face, a bright smile just barely peaking out from under them. Residual giggles escaped as he slowly caught his breath, interrupted by the occasional hiccup.

"I ha- hic- hate all of you," he panted. Perimedes couldn't help but let out a condescending chuckle when he hiccuped.

"Now I think that was more than fair given the circumstances," Odysseus reasoned. Asterios lifted a wing to glare at him with one eye.

"That assault was a- hic- anything but fair!" Elpenor was unable to hold back his own laughter that time. Asterios silently cursed himself and tried to steady his breathing.

"Neither is using us as your little chaos puppets."

Asterios couldn't help but smirk, a sly chuckle slipping out. "Chaos puppets. I like that." The smile dropped from his face as he continued, "But uh, you guys won't have to worry about that anymore. Think I learned my lesson."

"Yeah, next time you wanna start a tickle fight, man up and do it yourself," Perimedes taunted, prompting Asterios to growl and kick at him, stronger than he really intended. But it's Perimedes, so he didn't feel too bad about it. Especially after that.

Asterios huffed, feeling his cheeks heat up ever so slightly. "I didn't want to start anything, that was the whole point of using you guys," he deadpanned, fighting the lingering smile on his face to glare at him.

"And how did that work out?" Polites asked smugly, propping his chin on Odysseus's shoulder from behind. Asterios blinked in surprise, not expecting him of all people to continue ragging on him. He grinned wider, flashing all his teeth, "Told you I'd get you."

"Yeah, and you look real proud too, smug bastard." His comment made them chuckle, and he found himself unable to stop smiling. But everyone was staring at him, smiling and whispering, and he still felt like he wanted to crawl under a rock and die.

Leander reached out to help him stand, but Asterios shoved him away. "Don't fuckin' touch me, asshole."

"Oh come on, don't be like that," he whined. Asterios sneered at him and stormed off to his room, ignoring the smirks, quiet snickers and teasing remarks tossed his way.

Yeah, he wasn't gonna leave his quarters for a week.

He shut the door, flopping face first onto the thin mattress. That had been horrible, unlike anything he'd ever been forced to endure. The worst part of it all was the embarrassment. At least the feeling stopped once they did, but the shame lingered thick and heavy. The sounds he made... No one would take him seriously ever again.

He tried to sleep, but found it surprisingly difficult. In fact, he felt wide awake, jittery, energized. It felt just like when he would stir up trouble on the ship, only... stronger.

Oh fuck them to Hades and back. He did not just get a power trip from... from that! He still wasn't completely sure how his powers worked, but he refused to believe it. He had to draw a line somewhere.

A sharp knock at the door startled him out of his thoughts.

Just great. Who the hell could that be, and didn't they know how to take a fucking hint?

"Get lost."

"It's me."

Asterios turned on his heels, eyes wide and staring at the door.

That motherfucker-

He marched to the door, swinging it open. He glared down at the captain, arms crossed, "Didn't you get enough?"

"I came to check up on you. You okay?" he asked, at least sounding genuine. Asterios snorted and leaned against the doorframe, subtly blocking him from entering.

"Yeah, no thanks to you assholes."

"You've had it coming for a long time, and you know it," he teased lightly. Asterios arched a brow, clearly unamused. Odysseus looked him up and down with a fond smirk. "So can I come in?"

Asterios barked out a loud, condescending laugh, "No."

"I brought a peace offering," he added, holding up a cup of wine. Asterios glared at him for a moment before accepting the cup, stepping aside to let him in.

Once the door was shut, the captain turned to face him, "Seriously though, I wanted to make sure you're okay. I know some of the guys can get a little carried away."

"Don't act like you're not one of them," Asterios shot back, sitting on the edge of his bed. Odysseus chuckled and shook his head.

"Yeah, I'll admit, I can go a little overboard," he chuckled, and Asterios rolled his eyes. "But you're not like, actually mad at us, are you?"

"What? No," Asterios was quick to answer. "No, it's not that." He was definitely feeling some type of way after that, but he didn't think it was anger. He was used to furry and rage, but this was something else entirely. It didn't feel great, but it wasn't entirely unpleasant either. Not that he'd tell him. It was confusing, treading these unfamiliar waters of, dare he say, friendship.

Odysseus softened, seeming to recognize his struggle. "It can be a little overwhelming, can't it?"

"That's an understatement."

"Heh, yeah. But, you'll get used to it," he said with a wink. Asterios froze.

"No I won't."

"Eh, you will. You're fair game now."

"I am not!" he half growled, half whined.

"What? I'm just being honest. Running away from tickle fights won't work forever."

Asterios stared at him, stuttering for an excuse, "Wha- I- no I don't!"

"Yeah, you just magically disappear when one breaks out, isn't that convenient?"

"If I knew it was just gonna be more of this, I would've just taken the wine and slammed the door in your face."

"So you don't deny it?" he goaded, tongue poking out between his teeth in a cheeky grin.

"It's embarrassing, what the hell do you want from me?" he snapped.

"Hey, I get it. But I'm just saying, you're not as subtle as you think. And, I don't know, maybe Perimedes had a point."

"Excuse me?" Asterios gripped the cup so hard, his knuckles turned white and he was staring at Odysseus like a trapped wolf: angry, scared and cornered.

Odysseus knew he had to tread carefully. He took a deep breath, bracing himself. "Sorry if this seems blunt, but were you just too shy to include yourself? That's why you made us do it, isn't it?" He knew from the look on the demigod's face that he was right.

"I'd shut the fuck up if I were you."

"I'm right though, aren't I?" he asked, cocking his head to the side curiously.

Asterios glared at him as he spoke, chest heaving with every nervous breath he took. He took a step forward, trying to appear threatening. "If you tell anyone-"

"I won't."

Asterios seemed to relax. "Good. Thank you." He adverted his gaze and took a sip of wine to busy himself.

"Don't mention it." He gave his shoulder a pat as he left, not commenting on the way Asterios flinched at the touch. He paused at the doorway, looking over his shoulder. "Oh, and Asterios?"

"Yeah?"

"You're our brother now. We care about you. And sometimes, that looks a lot like bullying."

Asterios broke out in a timid grin. "Yeah, I think I'm figuring that out."

Odysseus gave a nod before letting himself out.

Asterios fell back on the bed, sighing deeply. Maybe this wouldn't be so bad after all...

He'd always been a little bit dramatic.

[thekingofwinterblog]

You know what the most annoying thing about the Twists regarding the Elves in Inquisition was?

That all the twists, if taken on their own, would make for a really good story.

The reveals about Solas backstory and how him and his fellow God Kings rose, became decadent, warred with each other and fell, setting the stage for their transformation into the Old Gods is frankly speaking, some of the best lore that Dragon Age ever had, and lines up really well with how the world is structured while explaining how the Old Gods came to be, how the elves fell, and so on.

That the tevinter imperium when it conquered the nation of Arlathan was not the great imperial state lead by mighty mages their descendants liked to think they were, but instead a bunch of weaklings that needed years and years to take on one, measly city-state that had utterly obliterated itself in civil war.

There is so much great stuff here.

So where did it all go wrong?

The answer, is of course execution.

Inquisition overall is a great game... But man did it drop the ball so hard with the Elves that it's pretty much hard to believe that they will be able to tell a nuanced story about them in Dread Wolf.

Everything from the companions, to the world itself as the game presents , to retcons regarding mages that's there, not to tell a story about the elves, but to try and make the Templar vs mage conflict grey.

Starting with the companions, we have a great example of coming so, so close to greatness... and then falling right on it's face.

The game has two Elf companions, solas and Sera... and the contrast between them really illustrates the big picture with how incapable Inquisition is with trying to tell a nuanced picture with the elves.

Solas as a character is perfect. Love him or hate him, he is a fully fleshed out character with very clear, defined, understandable motives that makes sense to him.

And most importantly of all, his way of viewing the world is WRONG. The game acknowledges that he is wrong.

The entire story of where dragon age 4 is heading, is all about how the Dread wolf, for all his knowledge and intelligence and genuine virtues, is at the end of the day, a monster, who is willing to see the world burn to restore the Elves magic and immortality.

He is a racist, he is bigoted, and ultimately misguided. Despite all his development with the inquisitor, he does not manage to grow enough as a person that he manages to abandon his genocidal goals. And the game does not pretend othervise.

That is what makes the story of Solas rise to become the big villain of the sequel great.

There is no disconnect between the story, the characters, or the way the game wants us to view solas.

Solas is far, far more bigoted and close-minded than any of the dalish he so despises, and the game ultimately does not pretend othervise.

Which brings us to the opposite end of the elf spectrum with Sera.

Sera is a very disliked character by a lot of people, but by dalish and elf players/fans more than most.

Just like Solas, she is bigoted, racist, and ultimately misguided in her hatred of her fellow elves, whether they be city elves, or Dalish, or ancient elves.

And that frankly, would not be a problem if the game acknowledged that fact. If her character arc was about it, and either how she could not overcome her own issues, or actually managed to grow beyond them, she could have been a great character.

The problem is the fact that the game is not willing to handle this fact head on. Its not willing to come out and portray Sera as just as bigoted against her own kind as Solas is, and to treat this as a flaw.

Instead the game treats her as if her biggest flaw is that she's annoying, and not the fact that in a game that is in many ways about setting up the rise of the dread wolf, she is just as bad as Solas, just from a different origin point.

Sera should have been a mirror to Solas, both from a story point, as well as a thematic one, but unfortunately she is not.

Hell, she doesn't really overcome her racism either. The closest she comes to doing so, is basically burning out on hating the dalish and other elves in trespasser, not admitting she was actually wrong to hate them so much in the first place.

The game does not treat Sera's disdain for other elves and their culture as a problem, and it does not give a dalish inquisitor the option to tell her to go fuck herself on the topic that you are given with Solas if you really desire to do so.

You are given the option of kicking her out of the inquisition, but not actually stand up for the dalish or even city elves the way the player could against Morrigan's flemeth raised cruelty in origins, anders and Fenris obsessions with, and hatred for templars/mages in da2, or solas ideals in inquisition.

And thats a problem that really illustrates the bigger issue with the way Inquisition took what could have been a great story about the Elves and the reveals about their anceators, and frankly ruined it.

The dalish and city elvea were very thouroughly fleshed in both Origins, Awakening and DA2.

However, city elves largely managed to avoid being utterly destroyed by the narrative the way the Dalish were, for the simple reason that outside briala, we don't get much if any interaction with them at all, making them essentially a non show foe the game for the most part. They don't get a city elf inquisitor, and so we have no point of view to look at them from a pc perspective.

They got off much better than the dalish though.

Starting off with the arguably single worst thing in all of DAI is the retcon that Dalish clans, if there is more than two mages in a clan, sends off the third one alone in the wilderness to fend for themselves. This goes against absolutely everything that has ever been established about the Dalish, and worst of all, wasn't even an addition meant to demonize the dalish, instead being an addition to handwave away the obvious fact that the Dalish had a much better system than the human circles when it came to magic... Which in turn was made irrelevant by the fact the Avvar was later shown to have a much better and more effective solution to the possession question anyway.

It was, in essence, a pointless retcon, that overall only made the dalish look bad, and has now opened the door for the idea that most dalish clans acts like this, and will be portrayed so in future games.

Its bad, but unfortunately it was only the start.

The game goes out of its way to portray absolutely every single person who critices the dalish as having a point, that they brought on their own downfalls, even as they are being the most imperialistic, racist assholes imaginable, while the dalish inquisitor can only offer a token of defence for his people, a far cry from way origins allowed you to handle the same situation wheter your main ethnicity was ferelden, mage, city elf, dalish, casteless or dwarven noble.

But nowhere is it worse than the way the game handles the fall of the dales.

Now the actual lore you learn about it, is not bad. At all. I know some complain that the reveals that ameridan(and presumably other elves) worshipped both the creators and the maker, as well as the fact that the dalish unfortunately did have a bad relationahip with the rest of the world, in particular orlais, is bad storytelling, but i firmly disagree.

No the problem is the execution.

Ameridan is not wrong when he says that The Dales should not have distanced itself from the rest of the world, especially not in the face of a blight... But the Dales of his era were in turn not wrong when they argued that the Orlesians were little better than the imperium, and they would be completely right.

This is not a grey issue, its a grey and black issue.

Orlais was, and still is an evil, expansionist empire with 99% of its population living as serfs, that can be raped and beaten at will, little better than slaves.

The dales were the morally right side of the exalted march on the dales. No amount of new lore we learned in inquisition has changed that fact. We simply get the details fleshed out a bit more to add context.

Orlais was going to invade and enslave the elves anyway, as they proved through their actions against all their other, very much fellow Adrastian neighbors.

The problem is that you are not allowed to express this kind of point of view and stick to it like steel.

The characters you meet having the bigoted opinion that the dales ultimately brought on their own fate is NOT a bad thing in and out of itself... the problem is that you are not allowed to challenge that opinion the way you could challenge Lelliana's view of the dalish in origins, or the way you could tell both Anders and fenris to go fuck themselves on their extremist opinions all through da2, and ending that fuck you by killing them in the endgame.

And thats a real shame, because just looking at characters like cassandra's character development through Inquisition, you could easily have made a really compelling narrative put of a dalish inquisitor who stuck by his or her principles, and actually challenged the people they met's racist views on the dalish the way you could in origins, just with a more fleshed out and(unfortunately something way too many people just cannot emote to a character withouth) an actual voice to raise those arguments with.

I do genuinely like Inquisition, and i think it's overall a much better game than DA2... but man did they drop the ball with the elves so hard.

I feel so sorry for anyone who really got invested in the elves as their favorites factions, and i honestly don't think the elves will be handled particularly well in Dread wolf, especially as the only Dalish we are likely to see fleshed out will be the villains fighting for Solas.

[moonpetrichors-blog]

I'm Low On Gas And You Need A Jacket

Tags: Eren x gn!Reader, Oneshot, After S4, Somewhat Angsty, Reminiscing On The Past, Second Person POV, Aftermath, Unrequited Love (Except You Just Never Had The Chance To Confess)

Warnings: None

But I'll soon forget the colour of your eyes, and you'll forget mine.

PTV inspired because of that one theory that Eren's eye colour always changes in the anime since Armin is the narrator and is forgetting what they look like. But what about your perspective?

guess yall could say he... collided with the sky? LMFAO

* ˚ ✦ 937 Words • Read below the cut

╭┈─────── ೄྀ࿐ ˊˎ-╰┈➤ ❝ [18/08/24] ❞

His eyes were the most stunning blue.

Or were they green?

You're not so sure. You weren't so sure when you forgot - when you forgot how his brows would pucker at the mention of titans, or how you could glimpse sparkles of gold when the warmth of the sun glistened across his skin just so.

His tawny complexion was speckled in freckles, youth carved into his features and demeanour irrespective of what he'd been through. There was something so utterly childish about him, and his ardent enthusiasm drove you up the wall. How could someone like him dream big but see so small?

Maybe that's why you fell for Eren Yeagar: he had a drive and a purpose, even if it was a suicidal one, as Jean would call it. He was belligerent and awkward, yet despite his abrasiveness, he loved profoundly for those he knew.

You were no exception.

At fifteen, you two clashed endlessly about every. Little. Thing. Contrary to what Eren would claim about you being obnoxious, he'd do it in order to capture your attention, and you'd do it deliberately to rile him up. One-upmanship in the ranks, continual sparring in training until you were exhausted beyond belief.

Jumping into crazy competitions and cursing each other out amid teamwork-assigned missions. Lord knows why you two were constantly paired together. That was simply how both of you were: two adolescents who were unfamiliar with how to express their emotions like other teenagers.

You despised the way his nose scrunched when he was determined, and how that dumb gold key dangled around his neck as a symbol of freedom. You two were far from normal, but who else in the corps knew what normalcy was?

Everyone allowed you two bicker like that, because at least even when surrounded by death and fighting, they could count on the simplicity of your relationship with Eren to remind them how you all still had your humanity.

There was one particular night when the two of you had accidentally snuck out past curfew at the same time, and instead of clawing the other’s eyes out, you made pictures out of the constellations and talked about what you hoped for the future.

At sixteen, he grew his hair out, and perhaps one could concede that he looked... pretty with it. Eren was a touch dishevelled, but being boisterous and imperfect was not unusual for him. You hated how unfair it was how this boy could be so beautiful.

You used to muss Eren's hair and make fun of him, but after the discovery of Marley, you became less unkind. The key around his neck had no longer represented freedom, but rather oppression. You attempted to ignore it, instead concentrating on the head it was attached to.

Eren was still an emotional skip fire, of course, but you could see something had shifted in him. But he was still Eren, and despite the external changes thrust onto you, he remained the same on the inside. A reliable constant.

Eren was reliable. Mostly.

At seventeen, that was undoubtedly the very last time you beheld the beautiful hazel-eyed boy you'd met and fallen in love with. They say that the eyes are the window to the soul, and you can still recognize that Eren is there, but he appeared to be inhabited by another completely.

He steadfastly refuses to let you reach him, but remnants of him are still present. He's just not as angry, loud, or opinionated as he was during training days. There were nights when you'd stargaze together as you used to, pretending to be foolishly young and dreaming on fallen stars.

He shifted at the age of eighteen. You, like everyone else, hung onto recollections of who he was. Were you stupid for scanning those blue pools of his, hoping that you might catch a glimpse of the old him? Probably. Eren made you feel silly at times, but not in the same way he did when you were younger.

This time, it was genuine. As opposed to your infantile bickering, he'd said things to hurt you on purpose. At least when you were younger, your bickering had held an endearing tone. Now his tone was just devoid of any sort of passion.

That's why, at nineteen, you couldn't bring yourself to despise the man he'd grown into. Because how could you? You were so deeply in love with him, so devoted, that you were unable to wrench your gaze away from him even as he ventured further from what you knew to be the right path. And that was meant to be with you.

If the eyes are the window to the soul, then why did his stare back at yours, so grey and lifeless?

If the key represented oppression, letting Eren's head roll was the key to freedom. You had cradled his head in your arms, sobbing uncontrollably because this boy, your dumb, beautiful boy, had given his life for his idiotic dream at your hands.

Because, perhaps after all, his lunacy was a constant in your life amidst the chaos of war, and being slain by you was one last selfish wish. To be just another set of bones to be laid to rest.

It’d been awhile since you visited his grave, the old age getting to you. You caressed the engraved stone, reminiscing again – forever left to grapple with your unresolved feelings towards him, forever nineteen. You wonder what he might look like if you could have grown old together.

You've forgotten what the colour of Eren's eyes are.

He'd long forgotten yours.

[shattered-world]

They utterly despised each other in real life. And they're Irish twins, not actual twins.

They sure did! I did a bunch of reading after I watched the movie so you, my dear anon, are about to get a ramble of questionable organization that you did not ask for.

First off, yep. Irish twins; siblings born within 12 months of each other (neat term, I didn't know that). Caracalla was born in April 4th 188 AD; Geta was born a year later on March 7th 189 AD, 11 months later. Fun little fact!

Second, I don't know if it would be possible to overstate how much they hated each other. Like, wow. As far as I can tell, this likely partially stemmed from how their father dealt with their succession (although I am by no means knowledgeable on the subject, so take this with a grain of salt if you don't already know this lmao). Emperor Severus gave Caracalla the title of Augustus or co-emperor when he was 10, but Geta had to wait more than a decade longer even though he was only a year younger. I'm sure there was other stuff too, but I can't imagine he was pleased about having to wait— or that Caracalla was very happy with suddenly having to share power he'd had for 11 years.

They did almost reach a compromise of dividing the empire in two and each ruling half, but for a reason I don't understand their mother convinced them not to. Who knows, maybe Caracalla wouldn't have murdered Geta if they'd done that (I doubt it). They also split the palace between them and lived in constant terror of being assassinated, and for good reason given that Caracalla tried and failed to kill his brother, organized a peace meeting, and then had Geta killed in his mothers arms. Insane.

Also when their father died neither of them were in rome so they had to journey back and on the journey they never once stayed at the same place or shared a meal. And they only ever met in their mother's presence. And Caracalla declared a damnatio memoriae, attempting to erase his brother from history (he did a pretty good job too). And a lot of other things that are not relevant to this ask!

Side fun fact; Caracalla is a nickname! He was originally named Lucius Septimius Bassianus and then renamed Marcus Aurelius Antoninus. The nickname comes from a tunic he wore.

I can't imagine what the two would think of this fandom lmfao. Maybe they'd finally be in agreement re: killing us all. Thankfully, they've been dead for 1800 years and I don't think they care. Also thankfully, while the historical guys fucking hated each other and weren't actually twins, the ones I care about are fictional. Fictional, twins, very pretty (seriously their designs oh my god), and with a fascinating relationship.

Also, I'm choosing to take this ask in good faith, but if sending it to me was some sort of attempt to convince me to stop shipping them... sorry! Maybe direct your attention to things you enjoy instead of spending your time worrying about what others do; i guarantee your life will be more enjoyable. But if you did send it just to tell me some cool facts, I'd love to keep talking about them!

[wraith-caller]

D and Rogier are so perfect for each other and their breakup is such a delicious, bittersweet little fuck up. I love the "we were so close to something so wonderful but couldn't quite make it" energy, the lil tragic cherry on the shit sundae of both their lives.

Neither has likely ever been given the kind of love they ought to have had growing up. D was reviled by all societies, a pariah, completely shunned and without any positive relationships outside his twin until the GO took them in. Rogier's set tells us of his detachment that's been with him his whole life, indicating a lifetime of hurt, something possibly even rooted in his family life. He's not a happy person, but someone good at pretending he isn't utterly miserable and angry inside.

D is reserved and stoic, steady and diligent, but also outwardly caring and patient. He gives sympathy and grief to the dead, and tries to protect the player, and goes to his end shielding Devin from harm. This attentiveness and straightforward kindness, without overtures or grandstanding or strings attached, would be foreign to detached Rogier. It'd give him a taste of something he may have been missing out on his entire life.

Rogier on the other hand, is a bit impulsive and determined, thoughtful and empathetic, kind to the maligned and despised. When something holds his passions, he pours everything into it with such a singular focus that it's impossible to ignore or deny it. D being on the receiving end of that focus would be life-changing for him. Being given kindness by someone not expressly ordained to it by the GO, just a random traveller seeing him for what he is and still saying 'you deserve kindness and friendship' could be such a powerful thing.

Love isn't the cure for all of their problems, deep-seated issues laid in the foundations of their beings from a young age. But it certainly can be a helpful thing to lean on in difficult moments. They could have done a lot to help each other.

And instead they were caught in a conflict that speaks to both of them in such personal ways. D can't recant the belief that the GO is the only true judge of what in this world is accursed and not, because it comes too near to having to face he may not be worthy of life after all. Rogier can't continue to see the dead as vermin because now he knows what they are beneath their violence - something miserable and in need of compassion, no different than himself.

So they break, and there is no happily ever after.

[snzhrchy]

HEYYY:) may I request some Chishiya x reader angst? So reader is like a citizen (queen of diamonds or one with no confirmed face)

So reader and Chishiya dated before the beach burnt, but after it burnt reader mysteriously disappeared.

So Chishiya is going into readers game and when he sees reader he gets all emotional but doesn’t say that, although reader can see through Chishiya.

So when the game gets to the last 2 players (Chishiya and reader) reader decides to sacrifice herself because she wants Chishiya to lead a life outside the borderlands and she can’t bare to see him die.

Extra: Chishiya also gets a little more information about the borderlands thanks to reader maybe?

(I may have already requested this bcuz my hands slipped & I didn’t see if I pressed ask or not. if I did can you reply to this one instead? I’m so sorry lmaoo<3)

—☆ QUEEN OF DIAMONDS !

chishiya shuntaro x fem!gamemaster!reader

summary; chishiya got to a chance to play one last game with you. notes; this concept >> taglist; lmk if u wanna b on it !

The aftermath of the Ten of Hearts game was enough to make even Chishiya horrified. He could only stare in horror at the burning building in-front of him, knowing that countless lives were taken and brutally murdered there only made him feel worse.

However, what terrified him the most was when he looked over to the surviving members of The Beach, you weren’t there.

He felt his heart caught up in his throat — he looked over to the remaining 40 or so people, scanning each and every one of them carefully. He was hoping you would be hiding amongst the crowd but much to his dismay, he couldn’t find you.

He panicked. It was unlike him to ever be emotional over another person but to know that the only person he ever truly trusted and confided in was taken away from him? He was desperate to find you.

The fact that the so-called “next stage��� in the games was about to being only made him more angrier and distressed.

He frantically searched across what he now knew as Shibuya for any sign of you, any sign that you were ever with him but to no luck, he couldn’t.

Once the King of Spades started to attack the unexpecting players, Chishiya’s mind was only focused on your well-being and where you might be. He didn’t dare think of the alternative.

After getting separated from the group, Chishiya searched as much as he could to find you but to no avail. The King unrelentingly shooting players only made him more concerned.

That was, until, he decided to join the Queen of Diamonds game. A small part of him hoped that he might find you playing one of these games.

He wished he was wrong.

As he entered the game, there were 5 more players already present, he was the sixth and final one. He observed the crowd and scanned each player to see if any one of them was you. He was left utterly disappointed.

Once he picked up the phone, the game began.

You walked up to the unfortunate players, introducing yourself as the Queen of Diamonds.

Chishiya's breath hitched. He was in awe. Seeing you there, dressed up in your fanciest clothes with a smile on your face, referring to yourself as a Queen.

He couldn’t believe that he ever fell in love with a game master — he disliked you for playing with his feelings but he hated himself even more for falling for someone like you.

He never was the one for romantic relationships; he despised them. However, he unfortunately fell for you. He knew that the relationship between you two wouldn’t last long because sooner or later, he would’ve broken your heart. What he didn’t expect was that he was the one being betrayed all along.

He had always been calculating; he had always been two steps ahead of everyone. But when he saw you there, he wished his eyes were lying to him. He wished that this was just a cruel lie to mess with him.

Unfortunately, he had to accept the truth that he never truly knew you.

As the game went on, you and him barely contacted as you were more focused on eliminating the other players. Chishiya didn’t say much either.

Until it was only you two left. 'You don't have to act all strong with me, you know. I can see right through you,' you stated with a fake smile plastered over your face.

Did it hurt you to toy with his feelings like that? Of course not. Kuzuryu and Mira had already informed you of what it would've been like at The Beach so you prepared yourself for the worst.

However, a small part of you did feel guilty for ever manipulating and hurting someone like him. You did feel guilty for making him believe something that never truly was there - whether it was the love you showed him or your actuality.

Or was it really all fake? Maybe there were truths hidden in all the romantic gestures you showcased towards him. Maybe, just maybe you did end up falling for him the way you made him believe, maybe.

'What do you mean? I'm not pretending,' he spoke ever so casually though it literally broke him to even make eye-contact with you now. He felt, betrayed, hurt but even after all that. he didn't blame you. He didn't blame you for anything - he blamed himself for ever being so naive.

'Chishiya,' you called out to him, 'I'd like you to know that everything that happened between - at The Beach - was real. Though, I know you don't want to believe it but we both know that the love I felt for you was there.'

'Why are you telling me this now?' He asked, trying hard to stay calm even though your words were breaking him apart slowly but surely. He tried to appear nonchalant and stoic but failed miserably. He loses himself whenever he's with you and to know that you were really his enemy all along only broke him more.

You ignored his question, 'love can get you to do the most dangerous of things - things that you have declared to fear.'

Chishiya was unsure of what you meant by that statement until he looked at the display screen in-front and his eyes widened in realisation of what you meant.

It was your turn to play and consequently, it was your last turn of the final round.

'I truly did have feelings for you; it wasn't fake, it never was,' You spoke as you went ahead to play your last turn and answered it wrong. You made yourself lose, on purpose. It wasn't a fair game but it was a mandatory sacrifice.

'Live a long for me, Chishiya, live a life that you're content with,' you said as you smiled widely at him, awaiting for the moment you'd finally be free.

The laser shot down from the sky, it's crimson light finally allowing you to be free. You weren't scared at all, you were rather content with what you had done. After months of planning skillful and tactical games, resulting in multiple deaths, you finally had a chance to save the life of someone you loved and you gladly took that opportunity.

As your lifeless body collapsed to the floor, Chishiya ran towards it, holding your limp body in his arms as a single tear fell down from his eye.

[anangelcanonlygosofar]

Why Did So Many People Hate Aziraphale?

When the ending of Season 2 happened the majority of the fandom lost their collective shit. They went utterly bananas. A main theme that I kept coming across was the strange and insulting sentiment that Aziraphale "rejected Crowley" or that Aziraphale "chose heaven over Crowley" or that Aziraphale "Was an arse for leaving Cowley", etc.

When I finally got around to rewatching Season 1 of Good Omens and then watched Season 2 of Good Omens and finally saw some context for the ending, I was/am even more baffled as to why people were so cruel to Aziraphale.

Why had they failed to hear what Aziraphale said to Crowley? Why hadn't anyone taken a moment to realize that Aziraphale respected Crowley's choice to not return to Heaven with him? Why did the collective fandom just completely ignore the WORDS, ACTIONS, and EMOTIONAL RESPONSES that Aziraphale expressed in the heartbreaking finale?

Maybe it was the simple fact they just couldn't cope with what they saw. Maybe the fandom needed someone to blame other than Neil Gaiman himself. Or maybe, the fandom just failed to take a moment to carefully comb through and observe the small, tiny details that are far more important than the big, dramatic moments that fill up the runtime.

However, what I noticed most is the total disregard for Aziraphale's lines in the last scene between Crowley and Aziraphale in season 2 episode 6. So this is where I'll Start.

HE WORDS:

Some of his dialogue was/are as follows:

"He said I could appoint you to be an angel. You could come back to Heaven and... and everything, like the old times. Only, even nicer."

"But Heaven...well, it's the side of truth, of light, of good"

"Come with me...to heaven. I'll run it, you can be my second in command. We can make a difference"

"Crowley, come back, to heaven! Work with me! We can be together! Angels..doing good!"

"I...I need You!"

"I...I forgive you"

Do these lines of dialogue give any indication that he rejected Crowley, or chose Heaven over Crowley, or that Aziraphale was being an arse?

No, they do not. These lines of dialogue clearly show that Aziraphale WANTS to be with Crowley so they BOTH can be angels DOING GOOD and MAKING A DIFFERENCE. Aziraphale wanted Crowley to be redeemed so that he could join Aziraphale in Heaven and be on the side of TRUTH, LIGHT, and GOOD.

Aziraphale didn't want to leave Earth WITHOUT Crowley, however, he was forced to because Crowley rejected AZIRAPHALE'S offer to come back to heaven. So instead of forcing Crowley to come back to Heaven with him, even after the awkward kiss, Aziraphale decided to let him go and sacrificed his happiness to SAVE THE WORLD FROM HEAVEN!!!!

It was not easy for Aziraphale to leave Crowley or even Earth or even his bookshop. He sacrificed EVERYTHING so he could fix heaven's broken system and stop God and the Angels and Metatron from repeatedly trying to destroy the Earth just to win a dick-measuring contest with hell.

Aziraphale doesn't like war. He despises war due to witnessing the rebellion in heaven AND watching the humans go to war and kill each other repeatedly for over 6,000 YEARS. What Aziraphale did was something nobody will ever be able to understand until they find themselves in Aziraphale's shoes.

It's not easy being an angel, who has been forced to "bear witness" and "not intervene in human affairs" because doing so will go against God's "Great Plan" which may or may not be a part of God's "Ineffable Plan".

Aziraphale cannot stand by and let Heaven destroy all life on Earth. Of course, he knows that Heaven isn't all truth, light, or good. He knows Heaven is broken and needs to be reformed. He knows that Crowley is right about Heaven being toxic. Just because he knows that Heaven is toxic and not as truthful, enlightened, or good doesn't mean he's not somewhat in denial.

It's not easy being trapped and suffocated by a cult-like institution whose sole purpose is to keep you from leaving the said institution. It's not easy watching humans committing atrocity after atrocity, and not being able to stop it. It's not easy watching God kill innocent people and children just because they can't get along.

Aziraphale has struggled to figure out what, "doing the right thing" is and how far he's willing to go along Heaven's/God's plans of destruction until he just can't anymore. All Aziraphale has had to keep him going along with Heaven's/God's plans is his faith that Heaven/God knows what they're doing and that complete destruction and devastation will never truly come to pass. Only to find out later that Heaven and God don't necessarily see eye to eye and that God themselves are super unreachable, even in a time of crisis.

Aziraphale has done EVERYTHING he was told and more and it still wasn't enough to keep another armageddon from happening. Since he can't completely stop it on earth, he HAS to return to heaven and find a way to stop it from happening from there, which may prove fruitful and pointless.

What most fans didn't register or realize is the fact that Aziraphale chose to return to heaven for very UNSELFISH reasons. A part of him knew Crowley might say no to returning to heaven with him, so he decided that if that was the case, then he would let Crowley go, so that he, Aziraphale, could fix heaven and permanently SAVE THE WORLD... something he CANNOT do if he stayed on Earth.

Why is this so hard for some fans to see and/or consider? Why is this something only a few fans actually talk about? Why was there so much Aziraphale hate when there shouldn't have been?

It's not Aziraphale's fault that he couldn't stay with Crowley. It's HEAVEN'S fault that Crowley and Aziraphale can't be together because they (Heaven) are too war-minded and emotionally stunted to realize how many innocent people will die just because they want to measure dicks with Hell.

HIS ACTIONS:

The second thing I noticed happened a lot was the initial total disregard for Aziraphale's body language and/or actions during the last scene of Crowley and Aziraphale in the final episode of Good Omens Season 2.

Throughout the scene, we see Aziraphale exhibit the following nonverbal cues:

---initial happiness

---confusion

---Distress

---Anxiousness

---restless hand movements

---pacing back and forth

---sadly looking around the bookshop

--etc.

These nonverbal cues show us that Aziraphale went from being extremely happy to an emotional wreck, especially after the awkward kiss.

Aziraphale excitedly told Crowley about his promotion expecting Crowley to be happy for him (Aziraphale), only for Crowley to grow irritable and angry. Which confused Aziraphale and slightly angered him, yet he still somewhat understood Crowley's response.

As the scene goes on you can tell that Aziraphale is desperately trying to keep Crowley from leaving at first, but relents after the awkward kiss and fully accepts he lost Crowley for now.

Aziraphale wanted Crowley to say "yes", however, it did not pan out that way. So Aziraphale gradually quieted down, shortened his verbal communication, and tried his best NOT to have a complete emotional breakdown in front of Crowley.

Not once did Azirphale exhibit any controlling behaviors or actions. When Aziraphale and Crowley came to an impasse and Crowley ultimately left, Aziraphale didn't even go after Crowley. He let Crowley go because going back to heaven to fix it and stop the second Armageddon was more important than fixing his relationship with Crowley, and because Aziraphale knew that when everything calmed down, and the 2nd coming was adverted, and there were no more threats then maybe he would be able to have a proper long talk with Crowley and explain why he did what he did and said what he said.

HIS EMOTIONAL RESPONSES:

Some fans also didn't really register how many emotional responses Aziraphale had in the last scene with Crowley in the season 2 finale.

Aziraphale went from ecstatic and happy to confused and slightly angry, to confused, overwhelmed, and heartbroken.

He started the scene excited and ecstatic about his job promotion and he was nearly exploding with joy when he initially told Crowley the "good" news. Only to become confused and a little angry that Crowley didn't seem happy for him and flat-out yelled at him.

At first, Aziraphale is stubborn and confused at Crowley's response to the supposed good news, yet he still listens to Crowley who eventually can somewhat incoherently say that he loves Aziraphale and wants to be an us.

As the scene progresses Aziraphale starts to restlessly fidget, heavily breath, and frantically look around as he realizes that the conversation is going south faster than the sinking of the Titanic. You can see on his face that he's trying to understand what Crowley is trying to say however, he just can't piece it together that well.

Aziraphale understands that Crowley does indeed truly love him. However, Aziraphale also realizes that he too loves Crowley in return and is now getting increasingly overwhelmed to the point that he can't form coherent words.

During the awkward kiss scene, you can see that Aziraphale slightly and very briefly goes to hold/caress Crowley's shoulder right before the rough parting between him and Crowley. At this point, Aziraphale is confused as to why the kiss happened, is overwhelmed by the fact he kind of liked the kiss and wanted another one but it simply wasn't the right time, and is heartbroken that he has to leave Crowley, but he doesn't know for how long.

CONCLUSION:

Throughout the entire scene, Azirphale actually struggles with Crowley's disappointment and anger in response to Aziraphale's job promotion, with the idea of leaving Crowley and returning to heaven alone, and with how the hell he is supposed to cope, let alone function without Crowley to talk to.

Nowhere in the scene does it suggest that the decision to return to heaven was easy or simple for Aziraphale. He struggled like a bitch and he still left for heaven heartbroken and without Crowley.

Yes, the ending was sad, but there shouldn't have been Aziraphale hate in the first place.

So I leave you with this:

So why the fuck was there so much Aziraphale hate?

[littencloud9]

hi, sending you more cuz i can <3

if you want to attempt jouzai..... jouzai + past crimes

and/or

kunichuuzai + ocean

HELLO!!! jouzai are so bad for each other i love it. hope i did your sillies justice bc WHAT is going on with them

—

Out of all the crimes Jouno has committed throughout his life, Dazai is the worst of them all.

A crime list taller than he is, an ex-Port Mafia Executive (sure, he isn’t anymore, but the fact that he escaped and lived to tell the tale speaks a thousand words), and devious intent that rivals Jouno himself. He is an amalgamation of the worst traits Jouno offers, and falling for him is like falling back into habits he had long swore out of.

It’s like facing a mirror of his younger self, hollow and wandering, searching for something to fill the void.

Despite his title, Jouno is not justice reincarnated. His friends, loyal and fearsome and kind, are better suited for that title. They don’t feel that spark of pleasure when listening to someone’s agonised screams. They weren’t stuck in a cruel and heartless criminal organisation before joining the Hunting Dogs like he was.

They aren’t pressing Dazai Osamu against the wall of their house, fingers wrapped around his wrists, lips inches apart.

Jouno is hyperaware of the distance between them. Normally, being so close to someone is utterly unbearable. A dust’s natural response to being disturbed is to disperse, after all, and Jouno’s body reacts no differently.

But with Dazai under his skin, No Longer Human taking its effect, he doesn’t feel that prickle of discomfort anymore. Instead, Jouno wants to bring him closer than ever.

“You’re taking awfully long, Jouno-san,” Dazai whispers. His breath fans over his lips. Jouno wants more. “I’m starting to think you just wanted to arrest me all over again.”

“I do,” Jouno replies, gripping Dazai’s wrists tighter. The way his fingers encircle his bones, as if to mimic a pair of handcuffs, only serves to prove his point further.

“Well? Go on then. Bring justice to the world, dog.”

Their lips crash together as Jouno hisses at him to shut up. He presses closer, leaving no gap for air between their bodies.

Justice, Jouno thinks. Is this what salvation feels like?

—

kunichuuzai!!! i love them so much. have some ✨ Pondering ✨

—

Kunikida despises the colour blue.

It doesn’t matter what shade it is. Perwinkle blue, navy, cerulean… They all remind him of that wretched case, one where he had to confront what it means to be idealistic—what it means to be himself.

It’s difficult to admit, but seeing a blue scarf still makes him tense up, even when he knows it can’t hurt him.

Though, recently, Kunikida finds that blue might not be such a horrible colour anymore.

He watches Dazai chase Chuuya around the edge of the shore, a water gun in his hands. Chuuya screeches bloody murder, kicking up waves and waves of water and splashing it towards Dazai in an attempt to throw him off. The sun shines down on them, not too hot, but just a gentle glow that lights up their silhouettes.

Under the sparkling sun, the ocean glitters. Kunikida sits under the umbrella he’s set up for himself, his eyes following his partners with every step they take.

They’re beautiful.

His finger brushes against something in the sand. When he looks down, he sees the button Dazai always wears on his tie. He picks it up, rubbing the surface with the fabric of his tank top.

The button gleams a sweet shade of turquoise.

He stares at it, eyes softening. This shade of blue is nice. It reminds him of warm showers and slow dancing in the rain and tight hugs after a long day. When he holds it in his hands like this, he can still feel the heavy thump of a heartbeat, strong and comforting.

“Kunikida!”

Kunikida looks up, gasping when a flurry of red whizzes towards him. Chuuya crashes into him with enough strength to knock him over, and Kunikida falls onto his back with a grunt.

“Oi! That’s cheating!” Dazai whines from afar. “You can’t use gravity to run away!”

Dazai still has his feet in the water, waving his arms around dramatically as he complains. Chuuya ignores him, pushing themself up on their arms, grinning down at Kunikida.

“Thanks for catching me,” they say. Their hair drips with seawater, landing onto Kunikida’s cheeks with a quiet splat.

He looks up at Chuuya, staring into their eyes. Full of life and power and adoration, and so, so blue. Kunikida gets lost in that sapphire gaze, drowning as if he was looking into a whirlpool instead of the ocean.

“Chuuya!” Dazai yells, finally breaking Kunikida out of his stupor. “Stop flirting with Kunikida-kun!”

“Hah?!” Chuuya’s cheeks flush, but they leap up, dashing back towards him. Kunikida watches them go and bodyslam into Dazai, sending them both tumbling with a splash.

His heart jumps unsteadily as he holds the button tighter in his palm.

Maybe blue can be a stunning colour sometimes.

[starheirxero]

You ever think about Lunara and God Eclipse, and the way they parallel each other??

The fact that God Eclipse created a new, perfect, pristine world?

The fact, that he is utterly bored with it?

The fact that Lunara turned their existing world into one of chaos and destruction?

The fact, that they seem to ravel in it?

The fact that Eclipse, perfect and calculated Eclipse, wishes for the excitement Lunar could've brought him, the excitemt Lunara has?

The fact that Lunara despises to even hear Eclipse's name, yet has become him, even agreeing with him?

The fact, that God Eclipse lives isolated in a giant castle inside his peaceful world, with only Sun to keep him company, while Lunara lives in a small, broken church, where they demand to be worshipped and prayed to in exchange for the remaining humans' lives, not caring for actual companionship?

The fact, that Lunara looks like how they are meant to look like, similar to Moon, while God Eclipse build himself a completely new body, that completely disconnects him from Sun and Moon?

The fact that they speak with such destain for their respective Lunar and Eclipse, yet still hold them close in a weird way? God Eclipse longing for Lunar's chaos, and Lunara, instead of wanting to be different than Eclipse, wants to be a "better" him?

Because I do. God, I think about it way too much.

-Stardust

STARDUST YOU CAN'T DO THIS TO ME AT 2 IN THE MORNING OH MY GHOD.

THEY'RE LIKE THE BANE OF EACH OTHER'S EXISTENCE BUT THEY'RE JUST A HAIR AWAY FROM BEING ON THE SAME PAGE AOAUAAGHGHH I LOVE THAT SO MUCH.

THIS HAD NEVER OCCURRED TO ME UNTIL RN BUT NOW I'M GUNNA BE THINKING ABOUT IT FOREVER NOW HOW DARE YOU /POS

[princess-of-the-corner]

Oh sweet arceus, could you imagine a Lila and Marinette that get along while Lila and Ladybug just fucking despise each other?!?! Because I could absolutely see it being mutual!

Like, Marinette has her hang ups about Lila because Marinette is a Crazy Jealous Girl. But what if instead of threatening Marinette or whatever happened there, Lila and Marinette bonded over their classmates being lowkey dumbasses or their mutual dislike of Chloe or just the fact that they both actually lie a whole lot, even if they don't explain their reasons to each other? Or even pulls a "We could rule together" or just is willing to back off from Adrien and will just lie about other shit?

It would really challenge Mari's black and white morality, because here is this intelligent person that she genuinely has a lot in common with and kinda hits it off with, but who is doing Bad Stuff TM, but also forces her to acknowledge that she does similar Bad Stuff TM and now Marinette gets daily coffee with Lila and is super fucking confused?!?!

But Ladybug can't have those complicated emotions and must always uphold being a Good Person who does Good Stuff and can't at all support someone like Lila who does Bad Stuff. And then Lila just hates Ladybug with a passion, so she makes it really easy to be antagonistic as Ladybug, and makes it hard to be antagonistic as Marinette!

Of course, Lila fangirling over an utterly disgusted Marinette also has limitless comedy potential!

GOD

[assassinshadowgirl]

Final Fantasy 16 AU Draft

Same as the Prologue; Annabelle the bitch betrayed her Nation, slewed her husband and offered Clive to the Holy Empire of Sanbreque.

Dion came to learn about what happened at the Phoenix Gate from his Dragoons and strongly despised Annabelle for her actions. He later became devastated when his Father announced his marriage to her and Annabelle will be Dion's stepmother from now on.

Dion refused to acknowledge her. Furthermore noticed that his Father Sylvestre Lesage, Emperor of the Holy Empire began to act distant towards him ever since that woman stepped into their homeland.

Feeling lonely and neglected, Dion wandered into the basement where he met Clive now a Branded, sitting alone at a fireplace. Both recognized each other. Soon they were sitting together, chatting.

With Clive's mother married to Dion's father, the young blonde Prince joked that they are considered half siblings. He then went ahead to tell Clive about his father's cold treatment and Annabelle's disdain towards him. Clive understands how Dion feels as he's also the same as him. They grew close immediately.

Dion visits Clive everyday. To protect his brother from mistreatment as a Branded, Dion proposed a plan; He asked if Clive is willing to be his bodyguard so both can watch each other's back. Clive agreed.

Thirteen years later, Clive served as Dion's bodyguard, and assisted the Prince in the war against Waloed Kingdom and its Dominant Odin.

During rest, Dion admitted honestly that he's growing weary of this war and much more concerned for his people's safety instead. Both Clive and Dion knew the Emperor was getting more cold hearted due to someone who was clearly being the one responsible for all these happenings. It got even worse ever since Olivier was born.

For the past years, Sylvestre had treated Dion more of a war weapon than a son. He only showed his affection towards Annabelle's child making Dion feel even more lonelier. However Clive was always by his side as a brother and only friend.

Suddenly a group of Imperial Soldiers under Annabelle's rule barged into the camp, issued an arrest warrant on Dion for his treachery against the Holy Empire. The Prince was utterly confused by this sudden accusation that he never committed. Before the guards could take him away, Clive attacked and with help from a few Dragoons, Clive and Dion escaped.

They were later rescued by Cid. Clive was reunited with his trusty hound, Torgal. And both were warmly welcomed into the hideaway.

From Cid, they learnt about the Ice Dominant Shiva being used by the Iron Kingdom for war and agreed to work together with Cid to rescue her.

Clive was later shocked to find out that Shiva was actually Jill, his long lost childhood friend whom he introduced her to Dion and they instantly got along with. Jill was grateful to Dion for taking care of Clive for 13 years.

Dion, now a fugitive as well as an exiled Prince, along with Clive, Jill and Torgal decided to work alongside with Cid as Outlaws to make a better world for the Branded and others.

The following will be them encountering Benedikta, Hugo, learning about Ultima's existence, Clive being the Mythos that possesses an unique ability to absorb other Eikons' abilities, reuniting with Joshua, fighting against Barbanas and Harbard etc.

During their journeys and hardships, they evaded Annabelle's Imperial guards who were tasked to hunt Dion and bring him back to Sanbrequec against his will while Clive was being hunted by Ultima to become his vessel.

Clive, Dion, Joshua, Jill and Torgal protect each other's back as they journeyed together.

That's that. If there are people out there who want to use this idea for their fanfics, are welcome to go ahead but pls do give credits lol. 😂

[darkpoisonouslove]

Trivia Tuesday

Who says Trivia Tuesday is only for written works?

I have been putting this off for 3 months but I wanted to share this compilation of my favorite moments from my Daylight video for Griffin x Valtor and do some commentary on them, talk about the process behind this video.

*I chose to overlay the song from the beginning instead of making you listen to the different segments that go with the footage smashed together in a cacophony. Here's the full video if you want to reference which parts of the song correspond to the respective segments.

There is no reason for me to bring this up other than that in the og video the line "you and I drink the poison from the same vine" just so happens to play while this is going on. I swear that was not on purpose. I chose the vine attack against Valtor because of the dark green glow around the stem which looks like Griffin's magic in order to make this more convincing... and then I realized that this moment happened right as that lyric was playing.

This whole segment starting from Griffin and Faragonda and then switching to Valtor in his lonely tower before Griffin contacts him because she wants to talk to him too and can't tear herself away is just so wistful and nostalgic and the music (especially in the actual video) only adds to that vibe. They're both brooding - out of the daylight - because they despise their obsession with each other but still can't help it.

I especially love that he proceeds to break into Alfea to talk to her and she blasts him with a vortex of books because she sensed his presence (I just didn't include that part in this compilation because then I'd have to post the entire video). It is a headcanon that I've had for a while that because they were partners for so long and the Dragon Fire is the most powerful magic which created the whole universe, Griffin has learned to home in on his magical signature because she can distinguish it from anyone else's.

-- Join me. -- A horrible idea.

I find this moment utterly hilarious. I don't really have anything else to say about it but I guess I can share the process of picking the dialogue for the video. Valtor's lines were easier to pick because they mostly come from a couple of scenes but I had to scour the entire season 1 (aka every scene with Griffin) to figure out which of Griffin's lines can be useful and then I had to piece together actual conversations from them, the one above being my magnum opus.

I simply enjoy the way I made these two different scenes fit together into one to make it look like his whole "teleporting in your chair" shtick happens right in front of Griffin's and the viewer's eyes. This is why I love video editing!

This one! Oh, this was a legendary moment for me! A whole new step in my video making career. I feel like I unlocked a whole new part of my brain when I realized that I could use the mirror effect to showcase Griffin's spell creating her clone. I have never used the mirror effect before and finding such great application for it that adds to the story (because I wasn't sure my idea with the spell was coming through before I came up with this) was certainly a highlight of my video making process.

Kind of on the other end of the spectrum this is here because I wanted to explain that the vortex is the portal that Griffin opens to sneak back to her office and catch Valtor off guard while he's watching her clone. I wasn't sure all of that was clear but I was running out of ideas, mental energy and remaining seconds from the song so I kind of had to speedrun that if I wanted to fit everything in the video.

I thought Valtor deserved a taste of his own medicine (aka payback for the illusion spell he used on Griffin, Faragonda and Saladin at Light Rock lake). Is this scenario realistic? Mayhaps not. But! Griffin used to study under Lysslis with him so she could have picked up some very convincing illusion magic too!

I'm thinking that perhaps I would have been able to provide more insight into the video and my thoughts on it if I had written this back in January when I could still remember the process of making this but it is what it is. I got to talk about it again and rediscover some of the joys that this particular video brought to me which was fun! And now this post works as a throwback to refresh all our memory on my latest efforts in video making before we see where I go from here.

[high-mackrels-musings]

Star Crossed Lovers: How Revenge of the Sith adapts Pyramus & Thisbe

*This is another adaptation of an essay I wrote on reddit found here

Back when I was in college I took a class on myths, and for my final essay of the class I was given the assignment to find and contrast an Ovid myth with another piece of media. Now, being who I am, I immediately tried to tie it to Star Wars. And I found a sort of comparison between the tragic tales of Anakin and Padme and Pyramus and Thisbe. The tragedy in their love is similar, but there are differences. And Lucas, and by extension Stover who wrote the novel, shows the influence from Ovid’s tale and manages to at the same time change the way the love story of Padme and Anakin is told. And the parallels were interesting enough for me to share my thoughts here.

Who are Pyramus and Thisbe?

For those who have read Shakespeare’s play Romeo and Juliet, the story of Pyramus and Thisbe ought to be familiar enough. Pyramus and Thisbe are two Babylonian youths whose families live next to one another and utterly despise one another. This of course puts the two at odds with their feelings. Pyramus and Thisbe both love each other. And they manage to find some refuge by speaking to one another through a small gap in the walls, “In the common wall that ran between their houses, there was a narrow cleft made by the builders and unnoticed since. Love misses nothing!” One should note the way then that the love of Pyramus and Thisbe is portrayed by Ovid. There is a sense of the purity of love.

Unlike many of his other stories within Metamorphoses, there is no focus on grotesque violence. Rather the true tragedy of “Pyramus and Thisbe” comes from the way others prevent their love. Because their parents refuse to allow them to be together Pyramus and Thisbe resolve to run away together. They both agree to meet under a mulberry tree, but unfortunately, when Thisbe arrives, she sees a lioness and flees leaving behind her veil for Pyramus to later find bloodied by the lion’s jaws. He believes that the lioness has eaten her. The misinterpretation of symbols, as Pyramus, stumbles upon the bloodied cloak. And he says, “On this one night, two lovers come to grief! For she, far more than I, deserved long life!” Lost in grief he strikes himself down plunging his sword through himself. And in doing so effectively dooms Thisbe who arrives later to see her dying lover. She too takes her own life, but not before begging the gods for their sacrifice to be heard, “And may our wretched parents, mine and yours be moved by this petition to allow joined in the same last hour by unwavering love, to lie together in a single tomb.”. And their prayers are heard, which shows Ovid’s overreaching theme of the legacy of love. Pyramus and Thisbe’s love lives on as their ashes are shared in the same urn, and the gods change the color of the mulberry berries to red.

How This Relates to Star Wars?

So, one may see in fact the parallels here between Anakin, Padme, Pyramus, and Thisbe. The idea of two lovers who desperately want to be together. Anakin and Padme are both forbidden to be together, as Jedi are prohibited from being married, Ki-Adi Mundi aside, Like Pyramus and Thisbe both have had to hide their brief moments of love. And both resolve to run away together, as seen in the Revenge of the Sith novel. So, if the bare-bones structure is there how do they differ?

One must keep in mind that both are tragedies. But the way these tragic moments manifest come in a different way. Instead of a bloody veil in a lioness’s jaws, Anakin receives visions of the impending death of his beloved. These visions haunt Anakin. The love between the pair can hardly be said to be healthy. Anakin has feared the loss of his loved ones since the death of his mother saying in Attack of the Clones, “Well, I should be! Someday I will be. I will be the most powerful Jedi ever. I promise you. I will even learn to stop people from dying!” And in the Revenge of the Sith novel Anakin’s fears are described as a sleeping dragon that haunts him, “That is the kind of fear that lives inside Anakin Skywalker: the dragon of that dead star. It is an ancient, cold dead voice within his heart that whispers all things die …” His jealousy is also present in the novel as we see how he greets Padme and believes there is another in her life, “He took her by the shoulders now, his hands hard and irresistibly powerful. ‘There’s someone else. I can feel it in the Force! There is someone coming between us-” This is a further sign of his unhealthy love, and Lucas and Stover show this love which contrasts the tale of Pyramus and Thisbe.

Anakin is resolved to not allow Padme to die. And in a desperate search for power, he turns to a false promise, and he transforms into Darth Vader. Unlike Pyramus who literally kills himself Anakin’s death is a metaphorical one. Gone is the Jedi Knight Anakin skywalker replaced by the Sith Lord Darth Vader. And this effectively kills Padme who when she learns that all the terrible things he’s done say to him, “I don’t know you anymore. Anakin you’re breaking my heart.” And of course, Padme later dies having lost her will to live. Thus, while Anakin did not kill himself directly as did Pyramus. The death of his identity as Anakin and transformation into Darth Vader does kill Padme.

So How Are They Similar?

So, while we have seen how Lucas and Stover show the difference in the love story, and the parallels of the bloody veil and Anakin’s dreams, one might be inclined to ask how then they are similar?

Thisbe herself pleads to the gods that their love is remembered, and her desire is granted as the Gods allow for the mulberry tree’s berries to forever be stained red for the blood they shed beneath the tree. Revenge of the Sith also reveals to us that there is a legacy in the love of Padme and Anakin. The film ends by showing us the scene of Luke and Leia, the children of Anakin and Padme, being split into two separate families so that one day they too will take up the mantle. And Stover’s novel ends with the words, “The dark is generous, and it is patient, and it always wins- but in the heart of its strength lies weakness: one lone candle is enough to hold it back. Love is more than a candle. Love can ignite the stars.” And it will be so as Luke and Leia will go on to save the galaxy. And their children would go on to protect it, and their descendants would do the same. Love in both stories has a legacy that would be felt after their deaths within the Legends continuity.

Conclusion:

While I cannot say with any authority that Lucas or Stover have ever read Pyramus and Thisbe, the influence of the text is still felt in this work. And one can see how Star Wars has positioned itself into a new form of mythology that may inform us, and do its best to teach us the lessons. The simple love story changed into something more complex about the nature of love and jealousy. And that is an important lesson which can be taken away. And this entire exercise was a fun way to interact with my favorite fictional series in a more academic setting.