#yes i know it's people i possibly never even talked to and this is just a website

[sassydefendorflower]

I feel horrible to butt in, but I do in fact think there are some addendums to this post.

For one, Margaret Thatcher and other horrible powerful women are not examples of the matriarchy. Or what a potential matriarchy would be like.

Every extremely powerful women, who then used that power to abuse it, did so in a patriarchal structure.

I am not saying that to defend these women. Their choices are their own. Everyone has the same capacity for evil, be it man, woman, queer or not.

I just want to clarify that we legit do not know what a matriarchal power structure would look like. Because from an anthropological standpoint there has never been a large scale matriarchy in the history of humanity (as far as we can tell). There have been some smaller groups and cultures, who have structures we would maybe describe as matriarchal, but none of these cultures are comparable on the large scale of the patriarchy. The power structures in those small groups are often genuinely different, because in praxis what we do know of matriarchal societies is completely different from an imagined reversal of the patriarchy as we know it. But, again, we cannot actually make these comparisons, because the few matriarchal societies that exist are also often very rural, and anti-capitalist. They aren't some strange utopia, they are still humans and there are definitely hierarchies at play, but they are simply not comparable to the large scale of the modern patriarchy as it is inherently intertwined with capitalism, colonialism, racism, and classism.

Again, I am not saying this in any shape or form to relieve any women of guilt or the responsibilities for their actions. There is no such thing as a better sex (hell, we really need to reconsider gender as a whole, if you ask me). But.

The patriarchy is sooooo deeply ingrained in our culture - in most human cultures existing right now and throughout history - that we genuinely don't know what a matriarchy would look like.

Hell, in Cultural Anthropology, if you create a genealogy and it is a matri-linear society, do you know what that means? It means that inheritance moves from the BROTHER of the mother to the BROTHER of the daughter (we are talking the inheritance of goods here). We generally assume that there isn't a single group of people where mothers can pass there belongings directly to their daughters as the main line of genealogical inheritance (and if there are deviations from this they are statistically irrelevant). There is bi-linear inheritance, of course, in which the parents equally pass everything down to their children, but that is a relatively recent development, and still always something that happens within a patriarchal society.

An example of a powerful woman (be it the Chinese Empress Dowager Cixi or Margaret Thatcher or Angela Merkel or... you get the idea) will never be an example of what the matriarchy would be like. Because we're thinking of power structures within the confines of what we know: the patriarchy.

And, yes, people who argue for the simple role reversal of Women in Power and Men At The Bottom, are obviously wrong. But they've also obviously never engaged with the theory. Such steep power structures and rigid hierarchical step-ladders would obviously be bad. But any conceivable matriarchy wouldn't be that. Because from the few we have seen throughout history and even right now... we know you always have to answer the question: what do we do with the babies?

And that is a question not easily or logically answered by a simple role reversal.

(and I don't want to equate womanhood with the ability to give birth - truly not. But, statistically speaking, women are the people birthing the most children, and as such, any society in which women are "in charge" the way we observe power structures within the patriarchy, also has to answer the question of what these "women in charge" will do with the possibility of childbirth.)

I am not arguing for the goodness of women. I am arguing for the admittance that we just genuinely don't know what a matriarchy would be like.

(not that is should be our goal to find out)

The power structures of the patriarchy have been historically so all-encompassing for most of us, that we genuinely cannot divorce even the thought experiment of a matriarchy from it.

And this Not Knowing should be part of the conversation.

just so we're clear, replacing patriarchy with a matriarchy would be just as bad because it's the same exact thing. it's a power structure. it lends to systemic abuse.

equality doesn't mean "one gender is better than the other". equality means all genders are on the same playing field. no one gender is better, or worse, than the rest.

women are not inherently kind. women are not inherently charitable. women do not inherently have other peoples' best interests in mind. women are not inherently gentle and nurturing. women are not inherently smarter or dumber than any other gender. women are people, and that means that women are varied. chasing men of that pedestal and placing women there instead will create the exact same problems.

you can run around saying "women are just better than men" but you're doing the exact same thing that's being done to you right now, and that's not how you collapse the structure. you're just taking the same abusive power structure and painting it pink. enough. equality means we are all on the same level. equality does not mean one gender is superior to the rest. got it?

[pineapple-downside-up-cake]

I've gone a bit feral over the inexperienced Simon agenda. I'm also a little obsessed with the 'size kink but in the not-feeling oversized' post.

It was supposed to be short and dirty... Before I knew it there were 3k words. I don't even know if it's still smut or if it's just a sex scene, but it's being released into the wild, anyway. Enjoy!

18+, MDNI

CW: use of sex toy; inexperienced Simon Riley, mentions of weight insecurity

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

There are no waifs in your family line.

Peasants, farmers, horses... a dwarf or nine? Quite possibly.

It's not that you're fat, per se.

You're just solid. A bulwark of a woman in a world that venerates the narrow-boned, slim sculpted beauty that was never in your cards.

You’ve had lovers in the past, not all of them terrible. A few with enough reciprocity even to prioritize your pleasure, and it’s not entirely their fault if you’ve deliberately put brains over brawns – your friends might point out that your type skews heavily towards ‘spindly legged nerds’.

It’s not so much preference as happenstance. These are the people you are around, the kind of men you can talk to long enough to form a basis for intercourse. And, you remind them as you remind yourself, intelligence and personality are supposed to be desirable qualities, as well. Things that matter more to a relationship than appearances.

But you’ve always been aware of the physical imbalances, always careful to balance your weight, to curb your strength and pleasure to avoid breaking your twiggy lovers. It wasn’t bad. Just…measured.

Restrained.

Restraint you wish you could cast unto the last guy you dated, who went all in that first night on the couch in his apartment, a night that has haunted your psyche since.

You’d lost your balance, landed a little too heavily – and the man had fucking laughed, letting out an uninhibited “crush me, mommy” that sent you running for the hills, feeling the least sexy you've felt since your last high school dance.

It put you off men for months, because how the hell does someone recover from that?

But when Simon - gorgeous, intelligent, you-are-the-brute-squad Simon fucking Riley - asks you out?

Well.

You say yes. Obviously.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

It was supposed to just be a kiss at the door.

A goodbye kiss - a good goodbye kiss, because a man with honey eyes like that deserved a little tongue in his farewell - but then you were eye to eye with him on the top step and his shoulders were just there like the only shelter you'd ever need, and of course you wrapped your arms around his neck, and suddenly your goodbye kiss at the door moved inside the door, then behind the door, and then against the door.

And you don't find yourself regretting it at all.

Kissing Simon is every bit as wonderful as you had imagined. His mouth is warm and wet and you love a man who knows how to use his tongue - not bullying, but teasing, and when he scrapes his teeth across your lip something explodes in your brain.

Kissing Simon is better than you imagined.

Your fingers curl in the back of his hair and you push yourself against his erection, suddenly wishing you were a lace and skirt kind of girl, that you didn't have two layers of denim between you, because you aren't sure you've ever been this turned on, and how good would it feel to have his warmth pressed all the way against you?

There's no way you could possibly get either pair of pants off, not without stopping, and that's not an option you're ready to consider, so instead you grip him tighter with your thighs and let the ache between your legs grow, fluttering around nothing and getting wetter by the second, arousal seeping out.

It's a kiss that last eternity, but not long enough, because soon Simon is pulling away when he should stay glued against you forever, and you reluctantly lower your legs from their new favorite spot wrapped around his waist. He rests a forearm on the wall next to you like he needs grounding or he'll fall apart without it, and you melt just a little, grateful that your legs still seem work. He drops his forehead to your shoulder, both of you quiet and gulping as you reacquaint yourselves with the taste of air.

"Fucking hell, you are..." He lifts his head to search your face like he's not quite sure it's real. That you're real. "You are all woman, aren't you?" His voice is hoarse, and you don't know if it's supposed to be a question because you were the last time you checked - granted it has been a while - but honestly what does that even mean?

His lips are plump and thoroughly kissed, glistening - by you, you did that - and you have to rip your eyes away to form a sentence.

"Do you want to stay the night?"

Simon had held you against the wall like you weighed nothing, like he didn't even have to think twice about your thighs in his hands, about strength and leverage and slotting himself perfectly between your legs, and you are so, so weak - if he decides not to stay the night, you have absolutely no shame in getting yourself off to the memory of this alone later.

You can see it in the way he forcibly pulls himself back, tension warring with responsibility, that he wants to stay. Instead you watch him coil his desire like he has to weigh anchor to get away from you.

"I've got to work in the morning. I - I should go."

And you let him go, because you can be disappointed but respectful at the same time, but you give him a hug - not another kiss, no starting that, neither of you fully yourselves again - and a smile.

"Goodnight, Simon."

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Returning to his graveyard of an apartment is hard. It's far emptier than he remembers it being when left a few hours ago. He hates that he left, but he really does have to get up early for an exercise with the recruits. And if it spared him a little longer, it wasn't such a bad thing.

You had felt right in his arms. Maybe even too right - you'd locked together like a scope to a well oiled rifle, flush and secure and so fucking perfect. He’d nearly come undone right there in your hallway, fully clothed like a teenager, and what an unimpressive end to the night that would have been.

He heads straight for a long, cold, useless shower, and does his damnedest to think about the logistics order. It’s midnight when he finally crawls into bed and sets his alarm for 0600.

Normally, Simon sleeps, if not well, at least on command – a side effect of military life. But he’s still thinking about what could have been fifty-seven minutes later, and he should have known better than to prolong the inevitable.

He's no stranger to an attitude adjusting wank. His palm isn’t particularly special or exciting, but it can usually get the job done well enough. Tonight, as he slides down the elastic of his sweats, he finds his imagination has returned with a vengeance.

He’s hard again and he hasn’t even touched himself.

He’d give anything right now to know what you felt like skin to skin. If your nipples were sensitive – if he could make you come with his mouth alone, or if you preferred top or bottom – is that something he’s supposed to ask about? He wants to find out.

His cock jumps in agreement and he surrenders, gripping himself haphazardly and picturing you.

Not intimidated by him at all. Eyes glazed and full of soft noises. The way your thighs fit into his hands and how you’d felt when he pressed up against you – were you wet? If he had stayed, if he had gotten to touch - would you have wanted him as much as he wanted you?

He thrusts into his hand almost involuntarily at the thought, thinking of you pliant and willing and gasping his name – and suddenly he’s short of air and stifling the mess with the bedsheet.

0100.

Fuck.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

When he comes over on Friday, both of you are a little shy - the afterimage from earlier very much on your minds. Quiet, deliberate, you sit together on the couch in silence, not moving towards each other, making stilted conversation about your day.

Eventually you give in.

"Simon..." It's not going get it out of your system - you can tell sex with Simon isn't a one time affair - but at least it would clear the air. "I have to be honest. The other night? That was basically the hottest thing that's ever happened to me." The confession is quiet, sheepish, and you can see him breathe a sigh of relief, big shoulders slumping back away from his ears - what did he think you were going to say?

"I can't stop thinking about it. I've been dreaming about jumping your bones all week. Do you want to go upstairs?"

Simon has never wanted anything more in his life. Not another magazine, or air support, or Soap to stop speaking in tongues. He chases you up the stairs, heart thumping in his chest like it's his first time.

It's not. He's had sex before - it's been a while (a long while), but he's not a virgin. It wasn't really good - he'd describe it as 'okay' sex, which makes him sound like a snob, but he has one of those inconveniently sized packages that require signature on delivery - too big for comfort for the women who were chasing burly soldiers like him.

Practically, it means your slow makeout session is...not so slow. Simon has your shirt off before you ever hit the bed, painting a path across your neck with his lips, and by the time you're comfortable, your pants have disappeared like you were never wearing any to begin with.

The only time he falters, hesitates at all, is when you finally wrap your hand around the bare length of him, everything exposed at last. He's got this look on his face like he's waiting for you to panic, the corner of his mouth turned up with a ready response.

You like a challenge, and while you won't tell him he exaggerated - he really, really didn't, you let him know you aren't scared off, either.

A cocky smile, and a spark in your eyes, you let him know how much you appreciate it. "I can take it. Or I'll die trying, which wouldn't be so bad, either."

It's amazing, that with all the blood in his engorged cock, that Simon still has enough left over to blush.

It's better, easier, especially this first time, with you on top, where you can control the pace, so you push at his chest (and what a chest it is - a bare hint of blonde fuzz, but mostly pecs you could eat and the cutest little man nipples you've ever seen.)

You have to pay for it with a kiss, but eventually Simon rolls over to his back, laid out for you in his full naked glory.

He’s not some narrow, stick figured man you cling to like a fire pole – wrapping yourself around Simon Riley is like wrestling a refrigerator, every inch of you spread wide to take him in. Your thighs nudge that much further apart and you can’t explain it but it brings a fresh surge of arousal – he’s got you split open and broken in half for him before he’s even in you.

And when he does - when he slots the throbbing head of himself against you, nudges in -

Your eyelashes flutter and you scrabble for purchase, nails biting into his chest as he slowly presses into you, savoring that first glide as he scrambles your brain.

There's no room for anything, any thoughts other than Simon, like he possesses your entire being, filling you with an exquisite stretch that makes you feel like you'll explode.

He’s not even doing anything special – this is sex at its barest, but it’s better than anything you’ve had before – the angle, the depth, knowing he could pick you up and flip you over without breaking a sweat.

"You are so obscenely hot. Do you know how good it feels to sit on you and not worry about breaking you?" You laugh breathlessly, because it's hard to find room for air when you're trying to relax around him.

He slides so easily in your slick, but your muscles fight it as you slowly sink deeper onto him, and you help as you much as you can, clenching and relaxing and adjusting a little at a time until there's nowhere else to go.

He moans, low and deep, clutching at your thighs - to make you stop or to make you keep going, he's not sure - and you can feel him twitch inside you. "Do - do you know how hot it is that you just....you took the whole thing? Taking my dick so well, I can't believe it."

His head drops back against the pillow, eyes shut like he's afraid he's dreaming, that if he opens them it may all end. But you're still there, looking at him like you're enjoying yourself.

You could spend all night here, speared on him, spread wide, filled to completion with his head hot and pulsing inside you, knowing you will be ruined for your stupid spindly men forever.

It takes a second for you even to think about moving, but eventually you inch your way into a slow glide.

Beneath you, Simon finds he can cant his hips just a bit, and your eyes really do roll back into your head which is fascinating so he does it again, and again, and your slow glide gets a little out of control -

You bounce and he thrusts and your rhythms are the perfect level of unaligned to have him slip out of you, catching the thickness of his head between your bodies on a hard downslide and suddenly he's lost, losing himself into the condom with a few jerks of his hips.

Ever a man of few words - a long, drawn out moan is all you get out of him, and you help him finish, as unsatisfying as it might be, with a few more rolls of your hips against where he's trapped, until he stills you with a hand to the thigh, spasming like he's been shocked.

Simon Riley, dethroned king of never p-in-v, has a new complex he'll never recover from. He drags your pillow over his face with both hands, like he would smother himself if he thought it would help.

“'M so sorry,” he mumbles from under the pillow. His chest and neck are flushing the most fascinating shade of red, and it’s so attractive – not to mention flattering – that you can’t imagine how anyone finds it in themselves to be offended.

Reassurance falls on deaf ears. You try, anyway, sliding off his softening cock as he shudders once more. “It doesn't happen all the time for women. I still enjoyed it.”

He hears you, but it’s wrong. It has to be wrong. Simon wants to learn how to make you come every time, possibly all the time, if you can stand it. Wants to see you shivering in ecstasy, mind full of nothing but him and how good he makes you feel.

If he could melt into the mattress and disappear, he would.

"I'll make it up to you," he promises, and you've no doubt about that. He seems like the kind of guy that takes commitment seriously.

Lying next to him, you pull the pillow gently away and nuzzle his neck, sliding a slow hand up his bare chest. He’s spent, limp and boneless. He should be basking in afterglow, and instead he looks miserable. Tormented.

What the hell, you’re a modern woman.

You roll half off the bed to snag something from the night stand and hold it up for his inspection. It’s a garish pink that hurts his eyes, but Simon can't look away. He understands what it is. Never seen one before, though. Definitely never seen it used.

He'd be lying if he said he wasn't a little intimidated.

"Do you think you can hold on to me?" You dangle the vibrator from loose fingertips, and maybe you shouldn't tease him but you also need him to know it really isn't a problem - that A in B isn't the only way to have sex.

He finds it in himself to nod. His throat is tight and he wishes his body would respond to how badly he wants you, but despite his best attempts he remains limp. Dick dead to the world, and to you, and he almost wishes he could take a bullet, instead.

You straddle him again, supported by his knees behind you. It takes a little lift to get the angle right, but when you do the thick end of the vibrator slides in with no resistance. You know what you're missing, now, and it doesn't fill you nearly as well as Simon, but you smile at him because you can tell by the awed look on his face that you’re about to blow his mind.

You would be the first to admit it's not your usual strategy - this is a tactical vibrator, a high efficiency stress reliever that helps you sleep on restless nights. The thing has at least 10 settings and 3 intensity levels. You're only acquainted with two of those, but you know exactly how to make them work for you, and tonight that's what matters.

You guide one of Simon's hands to your hip, and the other to the button on the vibrator, and you hesitate - more bluster than confidence at this point, but he's got a way of making you feel like a sex goddess just by touching you with those hands that span half your ass, and you go straight to your favorite setting.

Convenient, that the slow ramp mimics exactly how you'd like to ride him, if he could last forever. The pulse burns through both of you, rumbling in his chest and sending lighting through your core.

His fingers splay across your hips, digging into the ample flesh, his torso so broad just straddling him takes you to a whole new level of arousal, and he helps you rock on the vibrator where it's pinned to his abs.

He's looking at you like you're the hottest thing he's ever seen, molten heat and promise in those dark brown eyes of his, and you can almost hear all the things he wants to do to you, and so you close your eyes and imagine it instead, imagine it's him you're riding, that you could watch him rut into you as careful, thoughtful Simon fucked you into oblivion.

"So good Simon, so close - " He doesn't understand why it's his name that escapes your lips - he's not doing much, just along for the ride, but somehow it makes him feel wanted and not like a dud.

Like he might still have a shot with you, that he didn't ruin this, and he's speaking before thinking for once in his life - "Give it to me, love, want to see you come."

It's enough. It's more than enough, tension rising in a flood and you need it now. Squeezing his flanks with your thighs, you lose all capacity for words, gasping for air, and you grab his hand and help him push the wand exactly where you need it until the heat rushes up and drowns you, making you shudder violently against him.

You have all of a half second before it becomes too much, and you nudge Simon's hand out of the way as you roll off him and yank out the vibrator in one go, flinging it over the edge of the bed, a problem for tomorrow.

You collapse facedown next to Simon like a ragdoll, gooey satisfaction still spreading through your limbs. It's silent except for the sounds of your breathing, and you sidle over to press up against Simon, to lay with your head on his chest.

He pulls you in tight, wrapping one of those massive biceps around your back, to comfort you or because he's afraid you'll disappear he isn't sure, but then you bite him, sink your teeth into the bare flesh of his pec - not hard, but it gets him out of his head.

"You're wonderful." You mumble, post-coital sleepiness coming in fast.

"You're...incredible," he whispers back. "That was... I don't even have words for that. Hell." He does have words, words like 'you're the best thing that's ever happened to me' and 'I only want to fuck you for the rest of my life', but he knows without being told that it is way too early for that.

Instead, the two of you fall asleep together, your leg tangled with his. When you wake up, he eats you out like he's never had a proper meal in his life, shows you with his mouth what he won't say yet.

You don't really need convincing, but you won't complain.

[fairestwriting]

RAHHHH, I LOVR YOUR WRITING!!!!

Can I kindly request for Leona, Jade, and Idia with a Hyper! Reader?

Like, Reader is up for everything and anything and is always either preparing for shenanigans or doing them.

ah yes. the trio i am definitely not biased towards when it comes to writing stuff (TYSM im glad you like it!!! i hope you enjoy this too <33

𐙚 Leona Kingscholar

It’s a good thing that you’re so lively, you can just have energy for the two of you, is the sort of thing you’ll hear from him a lot. Always seasoned with his signature snarky feeling, sometimes he’s more exasperated, and other times, he can actually sound quite fond and sweet.

The “Herbivore” nickname isn’t going away anytime soon, that’s for sure. It’s more than just a little jab at how non threatening you come off— You honestly kind of remind him of a rabbit. If you ask him to elaborate he says it’s because you’re “always hopping around and sticking your nose into other people’s business”. If you ask him for further explanation he says you’re just proving his point by being too curious.

To anyone who knows how to read him, it becomes quite visible that he’s really very unsuccessful at concealing how endearing he thinks your antics are. He’ll never miss an opportunity to tell you he’s absolutely not going to join you on whatever you’re up to that day, and yet… he’s always there to say these exact words.

You might manage to convince him to take you out on some fun dates, things like going to amusement parks or arcades. He actually really enjoys it, despite always playing up that unamused, grumpy act. Most of the time he’ll just stand on the sidelines and watch while you have your fun, but it’s not that hard to bait him into following you to the roller coaster. At the end of the day, he tells you he hopes you’re satisfied because he won’t be indulging you again too soon— Something you can easily prove wrong in about a week or so.

�� Jade Leech

He’s always not-so-secretly overjoyed to hear about any new troublemaker type that might pop up into Azul’s radar. These people are always the most interesting to observe, after all. So even before you two actually spoke, you’ve been keeping him more than engaged.

Jade has no desire to actively cause anything that might count as mischief… or at least that’s what he says. It’s not a full blown lie, but the key word here really is “actively” — Any antics of yours that he can support will be supported. Whether by conveniently making others too intimidated to get in your way, or sharing little hints of possible interesting things to do around school. It takes him some time to start actually tagging along, even if it’s just to stand around and watch you having your fun, but when he starts to do it, he’s pretty much become your new henchman.

While he mostly keeps to himself, if you show any interest in going on hikes with him, or learning about mushrooms and such, you’ll find that he can match your energy level quite easily. Jade is actually a bit surprised at your enthusiasm when it comes to that, he’s always wondered how it’d be like to explore the woods with a partner. Very quick to make new hiking plans, even quicker to think of multiple creative ways to use up whatever you picked while out.

He finds himself smiling and laughing a lot when he’s by your side. Of course, he already does both often in general, but it’s different when he’s with you. You always have some new, interesting topic to talk about, paired with a remarkable skill to find entertaining points about seemingly anything, it’s really contagious to him.

𐙚 Idia Shroud

Thinks it’s a miracle someone like you ever became interested in him. Shouldn’t a pessimistic, anxious introvert just come off as boring to someone who’s so bright and active? For a good while, Idia just couldn’t understand how you’d even fit him into your world. You two are just so different—

He would’ve probably rejected you out of sheer hopelessness if it wasn’t for the fact that… pairing a cheerful character with a gloomy one is, in fact, a pretty popular romance trope in anime. A part of him, sort of shyly and almost guiltily, hoped that he would get to have that in real life one day.

The fact you’re even open to indulging his interests definitely helps to bring you two closer. He was so anxious about showing you anything he liked, even if it was some popular game everyone in school is talking about, it’s just too nerdy for someone like you, isn’t it? Sometimes he’s still comically surprised whenever you mention liking a game or something like that. But he can get over his nervousness pretty quickly when you suggest playing together, even if it’s just on call.

When you’re messing with other people, he likes watching it from afar. Texts asking for updates on how your latest plans are going. If he can, he’ll even bail you out of trouble, it’s not like it’s that hard to make one of the school cameras just stop working for a little bit… And he really likes your reactions to him doing things like that, the way you praise his skills with so much enthusiasm. It really makes him feel like he’s won in life, honestly.

if you like my work you can support me by commissioning me or tipping me on ko-fi ── ᵎᵎ ✦

[luckymousey]

Thoughts about Ace's dream (parts 245-248) (mostly things I liked)

THEY FINALLY UPLOADED ACE’S DREAM BABYYYYYYYYYY

First of all, to be honest, when I first saw the snap in Tumblr I thought: wait, didn’t the Stitch event end already?🤨 and then I realized it was his dream.

Let’s start!

⚠️ English is not my first language, and there are spoilers⚠️

There might be some spelling mistakes

Cater filming everything with his phone through the whole ride, I just love how he’s still himself (Honestly, I feel that not a single student of Heartslabyul would feel dizzy because of the traveling, yk, they’re based off Alice in Wonderland, and Alice fell through a hole, I’m sure they would feel dizzy by others things, not something that’s similar to a roller coaster ride) and then he says: ah, but Grimmy was shouting too loudly and the wind is annoying, I need to put music to hide it 😔

I also love the fact that he takes photos of everything even knowing that the photos aren’t in his real phone (I hope they find a way to recover the photos for Cater)

When Sebek asked if Ace is from Sunset Savanna I was like: wait, weren’t they friends? How could he not know? And then I realized i had been looking at too many fanarts of the first year gang *slaps forehead*

Honestly, I’m impressed by how much knowledge this guys have, when Deuce said that Ace lived near the capital of the Kingdom of Roses, Leona started talking about how it was not possible for them to have an ocean near (maybe I’m too dumb to know things like these, maybe not)

Grim getting disappointed that it was a dream, he really wanted to have holidays the 365 days of the year 😂 (my baby son is so cute)

Cater saying that he knew skateboarding and surfing, I don’t know, I just LOVED that fact, even more, I’ve a headcanon of the TWST actor AU I wrote some time ago that says that both Leona and Cater use their brooms like surfboards while filming because they go surfing together during summer.

I love that we got to know more about Cater

Idia’s comment right after Cater explained why he liked those hobbies, he’s like a narrator inside the book, but instead of talking to the public, he talks to himself

AND RIGHT AFTER THAT HIS OWN BROTHER SNITCHES ON HIM, HAHAHA, I just couldn’t stop myself from laughing when he said Idia also made himself a small boat (the video I saw was in Spanish and it said “barca”, which means boat in English, I’m not sure if the game referred it as a literal boat tho)

And Idia’s wish? Riding a shopping cart through a home goods store? I also wish for that, Idia, a lot of people wish doing that, you’re not alone, my man.

When Idia got scared because Cater reminded him of the time when he kidnapped Riddle and others with a smile, he just started stuttering, so cute (his actions weren’t cute tho)

ACE MAKES HIS APPEARANCE, YES BABYYYYYYYY (I love him so much 😭)

Idk why, but I just love when the characters shout at people, like calling them from afar, and Ace nailed it

It seems like the Lilo and Stitch event doesn’t happen in the original timeline, because everyone was so surprised (even Yuu has the option to make a comment about his shirt or his sunglasses)

Honestly, I never, EVER, thought about the fruit that was on Ace’s shoulder until Grim pointed it out, I swear to you all that I started laughing once I imagined someone having to walk with those and couldn’t stop until I remembered I still had to watch the episode (and now I got another headcanon for the actor AU 😈)

AND NOW RIDDLE APPEARSSSSSS

I loved when he went like: “don’t overdo it, got it, Ace?” And then everyone was like: “YOU ARE ALREADY OVERDOING IT!” I think they thought Ace’s imagination was too powerful

When Cater pointed out that Riddle was showing his bellybutton, it reminded me of that meme of: SHOW US YOUR ANKLE, SHOW US YOUR ANKLE (we’re talking about Riddle here, I wouldn’t be surprised if he got flustered about naked skin)

I realized that Riddle is kind of naive, because he says: “Ace told me this was a formal attire for an island” and he just did as he was told, my poor boy, one day, you’re getting pranked

And then he slowly approaches Cater and whispers (which made him look sooooo cute) him if he looks weird (NO MY BABY, YOU DON’T, 10 OUT OF 10, YOU’RE SLAYING MY QUEEN), HE LOOKED LIKE A BABY ASKING HIS OLDER BROTHER FOR ADVICES

Considering both Silver and Sebek are in the same club as Riddle (in one of Ruggie’s cards, Sebek even got punished by him while doing club activities) their surprise is understandable

One thing I didn’t really like is that we didn’t get to see fake!Trey or fake!Cater wearing new outfits 🥹

I know they all wear makeup, but for someone reason my eyes couldn’t stop looking at their eyes, they are all so fucking gorgeous, ugh

Honestly, does someone here knows if Cater is rich or not? Because they also mention that Cater was the one who rented the private island (I know it’s a dream, but who knows) maybe it’s because of his father’s job?

And Cater immediately getting into his role, he knows what he’s doing, he’s so smart, I love him.

When Ace suggests getting changed because he doesn’t like seeing the school uniform Leona said (I’m not quoting from the game): “we’re BUSY” I felt it was more like: “I want to get over this bullshit and take a nap”

THE WAY ACE WAS SMILING WHEN HE ANNOUNCED THE REASON OF THE CELEBRATION, that is the same smile he has when something good happens to him, but knowing what’s going to happen next, I just couldn’t help it🥲

I also realized how much I like when a lot of characters shout at the same time, it’s nice to hear

The part where Ace denied when Trey said how they would get sad talking about Yuu leaving, I know you’re just a tsundere, accept it, Trappola I’m still not prepared for that part

In the video Idia says: “I could be hit by a extroverted lighting” I’m just loving everyhting Idia says

I got sad when Ortho said there was no point in attacking him, I wanted to see Ace getting bullied (don’t hate on me, it’s just karma doing its job)

I would’ve loved if Jack and Epel were there too

Ace was talking like a salesman: “we got pink shirt here, and then a yellow one, and then a blue one” I just can’t with him 😂

We can’t see what is really happening between the characters (like, two characters could be hugging but we aren’t able to see it because this is not an anime, yet) but I believe Grim took Ace by his hair, pulled it and shouted in his ear to make him clear they were in a dream, YOU’RE DOING GREAT BABY, SHOW HIM WHO THE REAL BOSS IS

Aaaaand, we made it until here, no matter how many times I say it, I’m not prepared to reach that part

[maspers]

Oh! You're asking about Outer Darkness. Let's see if I can help out. Disclaimer tho I'm just a random guy on the internet so be aware that my personal understanding of my faith could be coloring my explanation somewhat, despite my efforts not to.

First: yes, as the existence of such a place implies, we do believe in a possibility for eternal punishment. If we're talking about permanent hell, this is the place. The reason tons of LDS folks like to act like it doesn't is because 1) it sounds nicer and unfortunately people care too much about their reputations and 2) the chances of going to Outer Darkness is like. ASTRONOMICALLY small.

There's an old joke that if you ask a Mormon what happens after you die, they'll draw you a map (as opposed to a Catholic who will tell you to ask your priest and a Protestant who will tell you to ask your Bible, iirc how the joke goes). And honestly, it's true. LDS theology has its afterlife occur in multiple stages. The Spirit World is when you go where you die. But EVENTUALLY Jesus is gonna show up again (probably at the end of the apocalypse because dramatic timing) and EVERYONE is gonna get resurrected. And while the resurrecting is going on there's like a thousand years of awesomeness and getting some last-minute ordinance work done. Shenanigans ensue, everyone teams up to beat up Satan one last time (long story) and THEN and only then do we get to the Final Judgement, when it's FINALLY decided where people are going to be for eternity.

At every point BEFORE the final judgement, everything is ultimately temporary and can be forgiven or whatever because Jesus is awesome. Immortality is a guarantee for literally everyone, and even the people who DONT repent and become good people will still get a spot in a Kingdom of Glory, which even the lowest is referred to as better than anything humanity can comprehend (LDS folk don't do what they do because they want to get into Heaven, they do what they do because they want ALL THE PERKS). Getting into a Kingdom of Glory is essentially the DEFAULT.

But, at the final judgement, it IS possible for someone to do something that can never be forgiven. If you stand at the final judgement, with a perfect knowledge of EVERYTHING (because like, it's the final judgement, your entire past and the past of the UNIVERSE is laid out in front of you, you have complete understanding of what the universe is, how it works, and God's role in all of it) and then essentially give God the middle finger and say "screw you God, I hate you and deny you and everything you stand for"... He still won't send you to Outer Darkness. You have to do that to Him, AND Jesus, AND the Holy Ghost (LDS folk believe they're separate people, not a long story but not worth going into here) and basically also give literally every thing that's good the middle finger as well in the process, because ultimately everything good in the world comes back to those three. Then, and ONLY then, will you be declared a Son of Perdition (though really it should be "Child of Perdition" now, the term originates from scriptural text, obviously people who aren't male could still in theory become a Son of Perdition) and you'll go to Outer Darkness to chill with Satan and be depressed for eternity. I cannot emphasize enough that the people who go to Outer Darkness will go there of their own free will and choice, with a perfect understanding of the decision they are making. Despite what some people might tell you (and what some very stupid LDS folk might believe) Mormonism is heavily built on the concept of free will, and getting sent to Outer Darkness is no exception. You only go there if you WANT to.

And honestly, that's a REALLY stupid thing to do? The amount of people who will end up as Sons of Perdition is INSANELY small, especially compared to the amount of humans that have lived and will live. In all of scripture we only know of to meet the criteria is Cain, and he was only able to meet the criteria because of the unique circumstances at the start of Genesis, it's pretty much impossible for ANYONE to qualify during mortality, or at any other point before Judgement. Cain just is Like That I guess. (Incidentally Cain will explicitly RULE the place, because Satan is a loser and doesn't have a body so he can't be in charge). Some people claim Judas Iscariot also qualifies but that's not backed up by any scriptural or prophetic text, and frankly that idea doesn't make much sense to me.

The kicker is in theory, Outer Darkness technically isn't permanent either. If a Son of Perdition were to recant their ultimate middle finger to God and everything else, they would in theory be allowed to leave. The only reason it IS permanent is because at that point the idea of spitefully rejecting the glory of God is so engrained in their being that they will never repent. It's become their entire nature. (I'll admit this part isn't stated explicitly in scripture anywhere, for obvious reasons Outer Darkness isn't talked about much in the text, but it can be reasonably extrapolated from what we know about the nature of God and mankind based ON the text).

So TLDR: Outer Darkness is a thing in LDS theology, and so is Eternal Punishment, but the only people who go there LITERALLY ask for it. You're almost certainly not going there. Don't worry about it.

As for how this affects the LDS perception of Hell... like every religion, YMMV. Different members view things differently. Some people mistakenly believe that if you're a member of the Church and then leave or otherwise start being a bad person, you'll go to Outer Darkness. This explicitly isn't the case. But Outer Darkness as we understand it is the part of our theology that most closely resembles the traditional Christian idea of hell (though with less fire and brimstone and more just eternal self-loathing and anger), so if a Latter-Day Saint is referring to Hell as a specific place, then they're probably referring to here.

However, when an LDS person mentions Hell, they could ALSO be referring to:

Spirit Prison, where the people who didn't do All The Right Things in life go when they die. Not as bad as it sounds. Like yeah there's suffering but as we understand it it's probably like the "You feel your sins crawling up your back" thing from Undertale where you're just hating yourself because of your guilt. Regardless of if you stay here or end up transferring to Spirit Paradise, you still probably won't go to Outer Darkness. This takes place before the Judgement (long before) but since it's IMMEDIATELY after mortality it sometimes gets conflated with Hell as "bad place you go when you die"

Spiritual Death, aka what Hell as a concept MOST likely is being referred to by LDS. Literally just referring to a spiritual separation from god. Physical Death is when your body dies (oof) and Spiritual Death is when you metaphorically die by not being Christlike, and can really happen at any time. Jesus, being the awesome person He is, provides salvation from BOTH kinds of death (He breaks the "chains of death and hell") so like. Don't even worry about it. Incidentally, since literally everyone is experiencing some level of Spiritual death right now because we're designed to be flawed during mortality, we're technically all in hell right now! Yayyyyyyyyy. Again, don't worry, this is part of the process, part of the point of mortality is to fail and get back up.

So Second TLDR: Outer Darkness is generally known and understood by LDS communities, but like. We don't worry about it too much. Usually when an LDS folk talks about hell in a religious sense they're talking about the concept of (ideally temporary) Spiritual Death.

"Maspers are you going to cite your sources" No, this is tumblr and I'm lazy. the other LDS folks can back me up and correct me if I'm wrong. Peer review ftw.

seeing people discussing the concept of hell and how cruel the idea of eternal punishment is like, wow! i know this belief system you would love if not for your knee-jerk reaction against its name

[anotherbananasong]

ugh earth being able to hit the nail on the head that causes alpha to pull away from his family ;;

did earth know how much it'd hurt alpha, and do it on purpose to hurt him the way he's hurt earth(and air), or did he not know and just got insanely good aim to hit alpha where it hurts?? Does he even know HIS words are what caused it?? Surely as a Fellow Dad, he'd have some form of regret from saying it. Not for Alpha. But for Charon, who almost loses his dad bc of it.

I think Earth was conscious of how hurtful his words were; but it’s Alpha, and he doesn’t care what Alpha thinks or feels. That bridge has long since burned.

I ended up spending more time than I should, but I figured with the recent confusion, I’d break down the timeline of events.

Under a readmore because it’s loooooong as shit..

Without revealing too much, @bloodfin had a lovely little blurb that I definitely agree with; Charon wasn’t summoned. Not intentionally, at least. And when Alpha stepped up to the plate, he was already in love with the kit.

He was excited to be a father, especially if it meant he had Dew there with him. There was about a four-day period where the two (now three) of them hid out in their room, just enjoying this new life they were going to have. Charon didn’t leave Alpha’s arms the whole time.

But then, it was time to meet Astra. And Earth is less than thrilled (he doesn’t want his daughter near that asshole).

Earth says he feels sorry for the kit; Alpha’s ruined his life just by being his father. Air, of course, is the only that knows just how low Alpha got, the nights he had to spend with him just making sure Alpha would make it through to the morning instead of giving in to his misery. Though Air is quick to chastise Earth, the damage is done. A perfect example of how you shouldn’t say something hurtful cause you have no idea what someone is going through, or has been through. And, in Alpha’s mind, Earth is right: how could Alpha have possibly thought he’d be a good father?

So he distances. He can’t ruin this kit’s life with his horrid existence. Charon needs a good father, not someone as worthless and cruel as he is. Charon doesn’t understand why the distancing is happening, and neither does Dew. What changed, that made Alpha not love them anymore? What did he do wrong?

After almost a week, Alpha decides he can’t do this. Dew will find someone better to raise their kit. He’s going to ask to be returned to the Pits; Dew and Charon deserve someone better.

Like I’ve said, when Alpha is about to walk, it’s Charon’s cry that stops him.

While he’s lying with Dew and Charon in his arms, that’s when he decides he can’t hide behind “they deserve better” anymore and actually be what he thinks they deserve. He had to come a looooong long way, but that moment made him realize he had more to offer. His kit and his mate love him, and he loves them. Earth can say and think how he feels; Alpha knows he loves these two fire ghouls, and from here on out he will be exactly what he wants to be to make sure they know how much he loves them.

Alpha makes good on his promise that Charon will never cry because of him again. He’s going to protect him as fiercely as he protects Dew.

Sorry, this was long and sloppy… but I figured I’d throw the timeline out there (I forget people don’t know the things @ashthewaterghoul and I talk about and how much lore I haven’t shared…. eh heh). Yes, Alpha’s insecurities and fear pushed him away from Charon for a moment, but he doesn’t stay there. He doesn’t do that to Charon (or Dew) again. I just tend to bounce around when I draw for the “domestic Charon” tag because I bounce all over the place to begin with. Sorry to those that thought it meant that Alpha bounces around between caring for/neglecting Charon… Alpha only pushed him away once; after he had his epiphany, he never shuts Charon out again. He decides to be the father he wants to be to Charon.

[ghostofreach]

IM NOT DEAD🔥🔥🔥

I’m not sick and dying anymore so I’m getting back on the grind🙏🙏🙏 have an old ref sheet of my diluc redesign (with some minor changes) that I just finished (finally lmfaoooo)

This is actually bad news for me because now I don’t have an excuse to draw him inconsistently 💔💔

Ignore the misspelling. NEOW……

Anyway I’m gonna talk about his design because i can 💯

Major points/changes

- he is no longer a twig. Very self explanatory this guy has a big awesome claymore I cannot convince myself that he doesn’t have the means to swing that thing around (one handed no less)

- I darkened his color palette, but I also made it a bit warmer in nature. The pure white right in the middle is a bit distracting and I don’t think it does much to communicate his personality. It just breaks up his design in a way I don’t like.

- scars, yes, but also stitches on his face. I imagine it’s new bruises, stitches, or scabs every week. I know it makes his face just a taaad busy, but idk. Ive been drawing that headcannon for forever atp so I try to accommodate that busyness with lots of flat color by the face to balance everything out

- Just a hint of embroidery here and there. It implies culture and adds just a bit of softness to the design (most of it is on the shawl underneath the fur)

Specific details I want to talk about!

The white fur shawl/scarf/neck warmer/make up a word idk💔

- this serves multiple purposes both thematically and visually

- it creates a ‘barrier’ around his face, not unlike the protective walls that border Mondstadt. It serves to imply his personality without dialogue, a bit closed off and skeptical at first. Almost as if he is trying to shield his peripherals from oncoming foes.

But it is still a soft barrier, and can be easily peeled away to reveal a very kind person at heart.

- it emphasizes the square shape. Not much to say there. Makes his shape language a bit more interesting as well by introducing a softer shape near the top.

- looks a bit like snow, no? Almost like snezhnaya still weighs heavy on his shoulders.

- underneath the fur is a faded red shawl from his mother. The only parts visible from the outside are those golden tassels. I like this bit a lot because it implies that (in reference to the point above) he doesn’t really know a whole lot about his mother or father- it’s buried under mounds of snow. The only thing he has truly been left is their wealth. He’s gonna have to dig if he wants to know their true nature.

The coat

- it’s wind resistant for sure but also a bit… warm. It’s very thick and long and you can’t actually see a lot of what’s underneath. He’s only showing the viewer a sliver of what’s underneath. Under the rest of the coat? It could be anything. Knives, his vision, maybe even a gun? (Correct assumptions)

-it leaves the average onlooker with a lot of questions but is also very convenient in a fight. Can’t block a surprise knife to the liver if you never even knew he had one on his person.

Miscellaneous

- layers are super prevalent in his design. Especially on his face. From the makeup to the contact, he’s trying really, really hard to convince everyone he is fine (WRONG‼️) the people closest to can tell something is off, but… who are they to say anything?

- the nail polish was initially added because I thought it was funny but I also think it could be effective as a last resort in a fight. Imagine you’re in a fight with a guy and he ignites his fingernails. Scary af.

…I realize that’s probably not possible but it’s really cool so I’m just gonna suspend my belief.

Here’s some hair stuff. I wanna write about mondstadt hair lore in my au/rewrite bc it rots my brain but I have so many wips I gotta do those first

[hannahbarberra162]

A Negative Outcome, Part 4

Infinite thank you to @gouraminnow who helped me so very very much with this chapter.

The other chapters | on Ao3

TW: angst and not much comfort here but there will be a lot in the next chapter.

Thatch POV

It had been a long time since Marco had been in trouble with Pops. Thatch remembered a time when he first joined the Whitebeard Pirates where Marco had killed someone they wanted for information and Pops had been mad about it. But that was decades ago and Thatch hadn’t seen a repeat performance since. Marco was always doing the right thing, making correct judgements, and trying his best to guide the crew under the supervision of Pops. Which is why nearly half the crew was on deck pretending to be working while listening in, himself included. You were resting in his room, exhausted after the long day and donating so much blood. Thatch had heard Marco’s statements that you shouldn’t be so tired but Thatch had been around long enough to know there was more to a person than just their body. 

“My son, it was the wrong choice,” Pops chided Marco lightly. Pops didn’t need to use a harsh tone or to yell, the effect on Marco was devastating. He looked like he was wilting under Pops’ softly spoken words even as he looked directly at their Captain. Thatch had been in Marco’s position before and it was undeniably worse when Pops was disappointed rather than angry . 

“She was harmed under our care, she needed time to recuperate,” Pops continued.

“But chemotherapy doesn’t work like that, I can’t just suddenly -” Marco tried to interrupt and throw his weight as the doctor on the crew. Whitebeard stopped him with a glance. 

“I’ve lived a long time, Marco. One day would not have mattered,” was all Whitebeard had to say in order for Marco to hang his head. The quiet across the deck was louder than any argument could ever be. Holding himself high once more, Marco looked his Captain in the eye.

“But I… - of course. I’ll…make amends,” Marco replied. Thatch wondered how he would do so given the tension that radiated from you any time Marco came near. Thatch had to spend the majority of his time in the infirmary that afternoon calming and soothing you after Marco had chased you down in the kitchens. Thatch had heard Marco apologize many times but he wasn’t sure he’d ever heard it after Marco had fucked up. Maybe it would be good for the doctor to be humbled slightly, maybe you’d get better treatment from Marco or at least be allowed to live a little more. Thatch finished clearing Pop’s dishes and left to bring them back to the galley. He wanted to be in the room when Marco sought you out to make sure the interaction went as smoothly as possible.

Marco POV

Marco shifted into his Phoenix form as he took his leave from Pops and launched himself into the air, soaring high above the ship. He wanted a few moments of privacy to gather himself before he went to go find you. He needed to center and control his emotions before he talked to you lest he make the relationship between you worse. Which…he wasn’t sure was possible right now. When you told him how you fucking hated him and your facial expression held more emotion during that declaration than he’d seen in weeks. 

Marco had tried to empathize with you as best he could but he never got very far. His devotion to Whitebeard was so strong, he’d do anything to make his Captain’s health improve. He already had by betraying his oath to do no harm and keeping you aboard the ship. Marco would gladly have traded six hours of his day for Whitebeard, it wasn’t like you were working hard. All you had to do was sit in a chair with your arm on an arm rest and relax. And yes, he knew that you missed your family and friends but it wasn’t like he had murdered you. You’d eventually make your way back to them - Marco knew that even with his assistance Whitebeard was mortal and would eventually pass away. It was a temporary adventure in your life, and frankly, most people would go gaga for the opportunity to sail with Whitebeard. You could be having the time of your life but you chose to spend it moping about the ship. 

What really ruffled Marco’s feathers was everyone was acting like he was the villain, like Marco was the one who was responsible for your torment and despair. Yes, it had been his plan, but everyone commented on how well Pops has been doing, how healthy he looked, how lively Pops was lately. It didn’t go unnoticed by the crew how vigorously Pops crushed Teach’s lifeless body once the traitor had finally been defeated. Everyone was pleased with the outcome but they didn’t want to get their own hands dirty by taking care of you.  It was easy to accuse Marco of being unsympathetic and cold but no one was helping you escape, were they? Everyone wanted you to remain and to use your blood but they didn’t want to have to feel bad about it. Marco shook his head trying to clear the negative thoughts. He needed to figure out some way to apologize for making you give blood without causing further deterioration to your relationship. He lazily tightened the circles he was flying in and flew down to land on the deck. He went below deck after shifting back into his human form, finally ready to speak to you. He had to remain sensitive, this was probably the first time you’d had a near death experience. Even before he ate his Devil Fruit, being a pirate came with a certain level of risk. Marco was used to the danger of the high seas but that would be foreign to you as a civilian. Keeping that in mind, Marco headed towards Thatch’s cabin where he assumed you were. You’d hardly left the Commander’s side since Teach had tried to murder you, likely in an attempt to make yourself feel more secure. Listening from outside the cabin, he heard Thatch speaking to you in his deep voice and you responding occasionally to his questions. 

Your POV

There was no other way to say it - you were hiding in Thatch’s room after your time in the infirmary. You felt completely depleted in mind, body, and spirit as you looked through the assorted books Thatch had in his room. Turned out he liked poetry and once upon a time you had too. But since you’d been brought on the ship your interest had dwindled. You ran your finger down the spine of a familiar book, a popular volume of romantic poems. At some point you thought all you ever wanted out of life was someone to care for you and love you like the people in the poems but it turned out you craved more important things -  like freedom and autonomy. Even so, you plucked the slim book off the shelf and turned it over in your hands, opening it to the bookmarked spot Thatch had left. 

A knock at the door had you whimpering in distress. You were never so jumpy before coming on the ship but now you startled at the tiniest noise. The door opened to reveal a concerned looking Thatch on the other side. Your cheeks heated as the chef came closer to check on you again. Thatch had been practically babysitting you since the events of the previous day and you felt awful for taking up so much of his precious time. You didn’t want to be a burden on the one person who seemed to care how you were feeling and maybe gave a shit about you.

“How ya doin’ Baby Pie?” Thatch asked, approaching you slowly. You tried to put on a cheery front so he didn’t come home to a dour loser every time he wanted to rest in his room.

“I’m good. I’m just, um, relaxing. I’m gonna go though, sorry. You can have your room back, I’m sure you want some alone time,” you said apologetically, closing the book and moving to replace it on the shelf near the couch before you left.

“I don’t want alone time, I came to see you. And you’re welcome to stay here as long as you’d like. You don’t have to go back to that other room,” Thatch said quietly. You hadn’t actually thought about where you’d go if Thatch wanted his room back. The thought of going back to the room where you nearly died wasn’t in the realm of possibility for you. Maybe you could find a room in the infirmary that was far from the phlebotomy room? But Marco wouldn’t go for that, you didn’t even have to ask. Beds were scarce and needed to injured crew, not frightened civilians.

“What’re you thinkin’ about Porkchop?” Thatch asked, plopping down on the small couch in his cabin. He held out his arms and spread his legs, a silent call for you to come sit on his lap. It felt childish to constantly seek out touch but you feet were propelling themselves towards the chef anyway. As you neared he scooped you up and placed you in his lap, wrapping his warm arms around you. You leaned into him, even the smell of oil imbued his chef’s coat not ruining your moment. 

“Porkchop?” you asked lightly, nuzzling into him. You felt  there was something building between the two of you but you didn’t want to address it right now. You were a little vulnerable and wanted some leeway in case your growing feelings weren’t reciprocated. You’d live in delusion land for just a bit longer before you brought yourself back to reality and talked to Thatch about your crush. 

“Mm. Guess that wasn’t one of my better ones, eh? You can go back to being Sugar,” Thatch teased, squishing you between his muscled arms. He gently took the book from your hands, turning it over so the cover was showing. “You like poetry?” he asked softly, the fingers of his other hand drawing circles on your thigh.

“Yeah, guess so,” you answered, eyes already closing. You hadn’t been able to truly rest without Thatch around, feeling too unsafe and anxious to fall asleep. Eventually you would have to get over it and be an adult again but the chef was too comforting for your own good. A knock at the door had you stiffening up immediately. Thatch’s arms tightened around you as he beckoned to whoever was behind the door. You bristled as you saw Marco pushing in the door, his face sour like he’d eaten a crate of lemons. If Thatch wasn’t there you would have tried to take your chances by running again but you knew there was no way that you’d be able to escape the two of them together. But maybe Marco wasn’t there to talk to you, maybe he needed more from you, more time in the phlebotomy room, more blood coming out of your arm -

“I did six hours! I promise! I can’t - please -” you went straight to begging, trying to push Thatch’s arms off of you.

“No no. It’s not that yoi. You did fine today. I came to apologize to you,” Marco stated plainly. You didn’t respond, unsure what Marco was playing at. He’d never apologized to you before, why was he starting now? Sure he made you give blood the day after you were almost murdered but that was practically par for the course. You knew he didn’t feel bad about kidnapping you or using you but you were curious what he would say.

“I’m going to give the two of you privacy but I won’t be far,” Thatch said, taking you off his lap and placing you on the small couch. You made a small sound of protest and looked up at him with doleful eyes. You didn’t want to be left alone with Marco, especially not after you told him off not too long prior. Marco didn’t seem to take anything you said too personally but you also hadn’t told him to fuck off before either. After Thatch left the room it became awkward and quiet as you waited for Marco to continue his thought. Marco came inside and shut the door, leaving just the sound of the waves against the sides of the ship.

“I came to apologize for making you donate -”

“Give,” you corrected Marco. You’d never been so bold before but maybe almost dying would do that to a person.

“Pardon?” Marco asked, now crossing his arms and leaning against the wall.

“I don’t donate my blood. You take it,” you replied. You wished that your voice had held out for the whole sentence - you squeaked out the end. Marco bristled and you scooted backwards, putting more distance between the two of you. 

“Yes, I suppose that's true yoi,” Marco conceded as he set his jaw. You regretted saying anything - if Marco was in the mood to play nice you shouldn't have spoiled it. Marco closed his eyes briefly and took a deep breath before he continued, crossing his arms and drumming his fingers along his bicep, as if this entire conversation was irritating him. 

“As I was saying, I am sorry for taking your blood today. I should have listened to you and let you rest. As a doctor, I know the importance of mental health as it affects the body and it was an oversight in my error to not let you recover yoi. You can have tomorrow off even though it does affect Whitebeard’s chemotherapy schedule,” Marco finished waving his hand in your direction. He paused as if he was waiting for something. 

“Thank you,” you gritted out through your teeth. Marco didn’t seem to notice your tone but did give you a curt nod as if he was expecting your thanks, like he was granting you a huge favor for not forcibly taking your blood for one single fucking day. You wanted to roll your eyes and kick him out but it wasn’t your room in the first place. 

“I hope you understand how much this affects everyone else yoi,” Marco said coldly. You wanted to retort back that being nearly murdered affected you badly when the door creaked open again.

“Marco, your apology sucks,” Thatch said, folding his arms across his chest. Marco bristled but didn’t say anything further. “No man, come on. Say something real,” Thatch prodded Marco as he blocked the door with his wide frame and tacitly prevented Marco from leaving. Marco looked at his brother, shifting his weight onto one foot. He exhaled and walked over, sitting down near you on the couch. You’d been near Marco many many times but never in a casual setting like this. You almost gave him your arm out of reflex but were able to stifle the impulse at the last moment. Marco considered you with his blue eyes, like he was really seeing you as a person for the first time. He put his hands on his knees and began speaking to you softly.

“I am sorry you were almost killed. I truly am. That shouldn’t have happened and you’re not used to anything remotely like that. I’m not going to say I understand because I don’t and I can’t imagine how terrified you must have been yoi. I know you didn’t choose to be here with us and that you’d rather be home. I know. So for what it’s worth, I am sorry that you almost died. It wasn’t your fault and I’m not sure how much my promise to keep you safe is worth anymore yoi.” Marco gazed at you intensely while he spoke. You didn’t know where to look so you kept your eyes trained on your lap. Marco continued in the same calm tone.

“That being said, no, I’m not sorry for what I did today. You’re not the most important person on the ship. I’m not the most important person on the ship - it has always been and will always be Whitebeard. So yes, you get tomorrow off to recover but after that you have to go back yoi. None of us have a choice. I wish things were different, that I could drop you off on the next island, but life isn’t that simple. There’s a lot hanging in the balance, a lot more than you know. There are so many people, islands, territories that need Whitebeard’s protection. Even though you don’t want to be here, you play an important role in the fate of the world and I can’t let you go. Not yet. Can you understand that? Or at least try?”

You blinked rapidly at Marco’s statements, this the most raw emotion you’d ever heard from Marco since you’d met him. He always kept his true feelings guarded, crafting each sentence carefully to construct a meaning that didn’t necessarily match his own opinions. You preferred this real Marco to the palatable version he presented to you - at least you knew where you stood now. You looked at him as he waited for you to respond, his half lidded eyes still studying you.

“O-okay. I understand,” you said quietly, turning over Marco’s words in your mind. Thatch stood up and moved in the room giving Marco space to leave. Marco nodded at you and left, shutting the door quietly behind him. You exhaled a breath you hadn’t realized you were holding and looked over at a gently smiling Thatch.

“Seems like we have a day to plan,” he said, clapping his hands together. 

“Oh, uh, I didn’t think - you still have to work though, right? It’s just me, I wasn’t expecting -” Thatch crossed the room and sat back down right next to you on the couch. Reaching onto the bookshelf he pulled off a large thesaurus and opened it, revealing a bottle of rum hidden inside. Uncorking it, he took a swig and offered it to you as well. You must have looked surprised because Thatch furrowed his brow in mock confusion.

“What? It’s the least likely book for anyone to pick up. They’d have to first use the dictionary to find out what a thesaurus is. Anyway I got good crew under me, they can handle everything for a day. We’re celebrating starting tonight, take a sip,” he said, pushing the bottle into your hands. You hadn’t had alcohol since Marco had banned you after catching you drinking three beers. The hard liquor burned your throat as it went down, warming you all the way. 

“What’re we celebrating?” you asked, genuinely curious.

“You,” he said, laying a muscled arm across your back, his hand hooking around your upper arm. He pulled you into his own body, your head now leaning against his own shoulder. You snorted but didn’t object as you handed back the bottle to Thatch.

A few hours later you stumbled out of Thatch’s room. You really didn’t have all that much to drink but your tolerance was low from abstaining for so long. You wanted to catch a shower in the women’s bathroom before you went to bed - you hadn’t had a proper one since before the…event.  Walking down the now dark hallway towards the women’s quarters, you heard a conversation in progress. You thought you heard your name so you waited before turning the corner, curious to hear what the crew was saying about you.

“Tough break for that Bloodbag, eh?” you heard someone say around the corner. They called you -  Bloodbag…? Is that what everyone referred to you as when you weren’t around? You waited where you were, you wanted to eavesdrop on the rest of the conversation even though you were already on the verge of tears. 

“Yeah, I mean who knew Teach had it in him? Not the killing, killing her would be easy. I’m saying the betrayal part -”

“I know, to hurt your own crew -”

“Well, she’s not crew exactly, she’s more like -”

“Like Marco’s pet, or medicine for Pops or whatever. Still would suck to be murdered by Teach though. Nasty bastard had to be put down by Captain himself. But yeah, I get you, it’s like stabbing Pops yourself. Good thing she lived,” someone continued.

“Yeah, then we would have had to find another Bloodbag. It took so long to find that one in the first place, we’d have to start all over again…” the second man trailed off as their voices and footsteps receded while they walked down the hall towards the infirmary. 

Oh.

Your mind went blank as you processed what you heard, standing in the hallway unmoving for a few moments. Being tipsy didn’t help as you replayed their words in your mind over and over. You began to move robotically towards the bathrooms again, gripping your towel tightly in your hands. You didn’t really know how to feel at that moment - in some ways you were happy that the bandage had been ripped off your wound. You always suspected that the crew didn’t care about you and this had confirmed it. At least these two were being honest as opposed to Marco and Thatch and Whitebeard or anyone else who was kind of nice to you. 

You spaced out for some time while your body continued to move. Your brain was consumed with going over the overheard conversation and you later found yourself in the women’s bathrooms. You were sitting in the communal bath, staring at the tiled floor wringing a washcloth between your hands. Your fingers, toes and palms were wrinkly, clueing you to the fact that you’d been in there for a while and the soreness in your fingers meant you’d been wringing the cloth for a while. None of that really mattered though. Even though the water was now cool you remained in the bath, sinking down to your neck. A firm knock resounded on the door, breaking you from your trance and making the water slosh as you sat up quickly.

“Who - who is it?” you called out. Any of the nurses wouldn’t have knocked and you guessed a killer would have just come right in.  

“It’s Marco,” a familiar but muffled voice said through the thick wood. Drying yourself in a towel and covering your body in a fluffy robe, you padded towards the door. Cracking it open you saw it was indeed Marco and you pushed it open more widely.

“S-sorry, was I in here too long?” you asked, tucking your wet hair behind your ear.

“Yes, and now you’re cold but that’s not why I’m here yoi. I think we both overheard a conversation earlier that wasn’t ideal,” he said, his earlier casualness forgotten.

“You mean the bloodbag thing? I mean it wasn’t great but -” you started, minimizing your feelings. Maybe you’d journal or something later but now that you knew how things really were you didn’t feel like pouring your heart out to Marco again.

“It wasn’t appropriate and those involved are being punished -”

“Not appropriate? I - you're gonna try and deny it? Gonna try and tell me I'm anything else? I don’t care and I don’t have the energy for this. Thanks for the day off tomorrow, I’ll see you the day after," you said, shrugging your shoulders. You sidled past Marco, walking out of the bathroom. Marco extended his arm but retracted his hand, letting you pass without further incident.

You didn't know where to go now that you were tired and ready for bed - in your foolish heart you wanted to go back to Thatch’s room. But after that blood bag conversation you weren't sure if he actually enjoyed your presence or just spent time with you out of obligation to his captain. It would certainly make sense for Marco and Thatch to work together, you were much more compliant for Thatch than you were for Marco. Maybe they were playing you off one another to get you more amicable to the situation you were in. You passed the turn to Thatch's hall but kept going, avoiding the now familiar room.

You plodded on until you reached your old room, the one that - you pushed that memory out of your head as you opened the door and looked around. Someone had cleaned your walls and brought in new furniture to replace the broken furnishings. Taking a deep breath, you stepped into the room and shut the door. 

[theadhddimsenion]

You know something I find ironic about stella defenders and vivis critics? They love to talk a lot of shit about how bad vivi supposedly is at representing male victims of abuse all while defending and regurgitating arguments that are used to condemn and vilify male victims and defended his abuser!!!!

"Cheating is bad!! So stolas is bad!! And they just want to silence us into thinking that this is ok!!!!" No you brain dead peon! Cheating isn't always universally bad especially when it's been on someone who has done nothing but abuse them and actively talked shit about their performance as a way of disrespecting them!! And let's be very clear the only reason stella was upset is because it was an imp and stolas had finally gotten the Courage to stand up to her!!! And let's not forget that stella had been treating him like crap for years before this happened!

"He's a bad father!!" No he's not he's a struggling father. Neither he nor his daughter are bad people and neither of them deserved to be in the situation they were in. Should he have paid more attention to octiava yes. Is he a bad person and never cared about her because he didn't? Fuck no!! He messed up and he suffered the consequences and is trying to learn to better what more can you honestly ask if someone!?

"He's shouldn't have saved blitz because that showed octativa he was willing to die without caring about her!" Bull. Fucking. Shit!!!! How the fuck was he supposed to make a life or death descion and think about every possible situation this could result in when he had about 12 seconds to make sure the love of his life's head didn't go fucking choppy choppy!!!

"He's a coercive rapist reeeeee!!!" Look pal that agurment relies on a lot if's when it comes to bltizs ability to find a alternative means of getting to the human world so this argument is flimsy and relies on circumstances and speculation at best and is outright bullshit at worst. Even if this so called argument had any real validity then it should be clear to anyone with any brain power whatsoever that stolas never meant to coerce anyone!

"He is evil blueblood and deserves the guillotine" no stolas is as bout as much of a noble prick as a thumbtack and he had never once intentionally looked down on anyone and when he did it was never hateful it was simply out of ignorance unlike his wife who you constantly defend!

"Stella was made evil to justify his actions!" No you fools she was clearly always going to be a villain and contrary to what your pitiful Brains think females don't need to be sympathic or even competent and vivi isn't sexist for writing stella this way and for what it's worth I think stella serves her role quite well.

[taruruchi]

𝐃𝐚𝐲 2: 𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 3

Post-overblot Azul

I got a sudden vision of an unseen scene that happened in the main story, and in this essay, I will entertain the question:

What happened after Azul's overblot?

This is mainly reliant on the fact that the overblot students have to recover after their overblot. Because it took a lot out of them, right? So they're stuck in the infirmary for a few days and can't go about their regular duties (If they didn't and I'm remembering wrong, idc they have to stay in the infirmary now bc I say so)

I imagine that after each overblot, the prefect has to bring homework and stuff to whoever just overblotted, like Riddle in Chapter 1, Leona in Chapter 2, etc. because they're the resident Errand Runner

Azul has a bigger workload since he's running Mostro Lounge too. Now, Jade and Floyd and the other Octavinelle students can take over, sure, but it's not like he can just put it aside while he's recovering in the infirmary. He gets restless and bothered that he's not there to look after his business. So the prefect has to bring both his schoolwork and those Mostro Lounge documents he looks over

And this is where I start talking about this in terms of the version in my head, aka the version with Taruchi

The first day after The Incident, Taruchi heads to the infirmary after class to give Azul all his stuff. She's already done this for the previous overblot students

"Hii... How are you doing? Are you doing okay?"

Azul looks up from the papers he's holding—the financial losses of the other day—and finds the prefect peeking from behind the curtains separating the beds

"Prefect? I wasn't expecting you here. I'm doing fine, thank you."

"Just dropping off your stuff. ...Are you working???"

She spots the papers scattered on his bed.

"Ah— Yes, I was calculating the amount of losses Mostro Lounge experienced yesterday."

Taruchi gets closer and looks at all the papers. "...Need any help?"

"I couldn't possibly ask you to do that. It's all right," he declines.

"No, you're not feeling well. You should rest. And I'm decent at math, I'm sure it won't be too hard."

"No, seriously, it's fine."

Taruchi frowns at his insistence to keep working despite needing to recover. "...Fine. Just... don't overwork yourself, okay? You haven't completely recovered yet."

"Sure. Thank you, prefect."

"No problem. I'll, uh, I'll go back to my dorm now. Hope you get well soon."

She comes back the next day on her second round of "errands."

"Helloo, I'm back." This time she has a small smile on her face as she greets him.

"Ah, hello, prefect." Azul naturally smiles in return.

"What are you doing today?" He's got papers around him again.

"It's for Mostro Lounge again." He rubs his temple as he looks at the papers. "I need to think of a way to make up for our losses."

"Ohh... How are you gonna do that?" she asks curiously, and half as a way to make it less awkward.

He ends up talking about Mostro Lounge for a while and his plans, so she just listens and asks questions. Her mind wanders a bit to the realization that he's very dedicated to and passionate about his business. She tries not to smile.

Then he stops for a bit and inquires of her, "I meant to ask, why are you here? For longer than yesterday, I mean. You dropped off my things already, so did you need my assistance with something?" Was he trying to fish for a deal right now? Even after his lesson about taking advantage of people's problems and luring them into contracts?

"Oh, n-no. I didn't need any help. I was just visiting." No chance to rope her into a deal.

"...I see."

"I'm sorry, do the visits disturb you? I know you should be recovering and resting up..." She's never felt this nervous about her post-overblot infirmary visits before. (Well... Maybe. Leona was pretty intimidating to bring homework to... He kept trying to get her to keep it.)

"Not at all. I don't mind." He gives his charming smile. In his mind, he's just trying to get her to like him and lower her guard so she doesn't hold these errands and visits against him or something. As if he was the one who forced her to do this. (It was Crowley. And partially Grim because he left her alone for the reason of wanting to go back to the dorm early to "do homework.")

"Oh, okay." She checks the time on her phone. "Ahh, I need to go back to my dorm now. Grim's waiting for me and I've actually got homework to do..."

A light bulb lights up in Azul's head. This would be his way of making it up to her. (Making what up to her? His reasoning is the trouble of helping during his overblot and sending over his schoolwork and Mostro Lounge work.)

"I could help you, if you'd like."

She smiles and tries to decline. She just wants to go to her dorm. "Oh, no, it's all right, I can do it by myself—"

"I insist. I offer my services all the time. See this as my way of repaying you for all the trouble I put you through."

Now she felt guilty and couldn't say no. "Really...?" she asks hesitantly. "Are you sure?"

"Absolutely."

"Okay, then..." She sits back down on his bed and takes out her homework.

After an hour or somewhere around that, she packs up. "Huh, I actually got a lot done today." She smiles. "Thank you so much, Azul."

And he smiles back. Only to be polite, of course. "It was no problem. Feel free to see me tomorrow as well."

"All right. Thank you." She keeps smiling and finishes packing up her things. "So I'll go now. See you tomorrow."

"See you tomorrow."

See you tomorrow... Azul found himself smiling at that one phrase, but stopped as soon as he realized it. Why was he smiling anyway?

Taglist: @solxima @angelwishess @scint1llat3 @distant-velleity @twtysevapr @cynthinesia @h0neybane @viperbunnies @linabirb @thehollowwriter @wafflethewitchboy @siphoklansan @jewelulu @skibidibabygirl @jadelover69 (ask me if you wanna be added/removed!)

Divider credits: @/cafekitsune and @/roseraris

[katerinaaqu]

You mentioned this in a post reply that made me remember I meant to ask (as always, just point me if you have already spoken about this): opinion on Agamemnon and Clytemnestra's daughtes?

In the Iliad I seem to remember three daughters are mentioned, Iphianassa, Laodice and Chrysothemis, while in the plays they are usually Iphigenia, Electra and Chrysothemis (bless her unchanging name).

Do you identify Iphianassa as Iphigenia and Laodice as Electra? Or do you prefer them being all different people?

So often female names (not only here) are conflated, recording people probably didn't care enough about them to be precise about it :(

I think mentioning Iphianassa in the Iliad (in the context of being offered in marriage to Achilles) suggests that in that early tradition the sacrifice of one of Agamemnon's daughter had not been added to the canon, both because Iphianassa could be the same of Iphigenia and thus still alive and because offering a daughter in marriage to Achilles after the last time he was 'bethroted' to one ended up being a sham would be tactless to say the least (and Achilles is just so sensitive about honor and pride).

Plus there is that Iliad line listing the throne passing from Atreus to Thyestes to Aga without mentioning the horrors™️, which with Iphianassa being alive could mean at that point of the traditions Agamemnon was just a commander and not the last scion of an extremely cursed royal line.

...unless Homer is alluding stuff that the audience is already supposed to know and offering another daughter to Achilles was meant to make up for that whole fiasco (unmentioned in the Iliad)?

The notes on my Iliad say that the 'embassy to Achilles' chapter may even be a slightly later addition (like possibly the night raid chapter) since later part of the story proceeds like it didn't happen, so this all is speculative squared ahah

Yes I have had a talk with @emmikay in fact on one of my posts about contradicting sources and you can see my reply here:

But the subject is always fascinating!!!!

As I mention to that reply of mine, it is hard to tell whether we speak for example on Iphianassa as the same person as Iphigenia or if it is a different daughter that kinda got lost as a version in the centuries and eventually the two names were used interchangeably for the same person. It is also possible, as I mentioned to that reply of mine, that Agamemnon is insinuating the substitution of his daughter with a fawn as a homeric tradition thus if "Iphianassa" and "Iphigenia" are one and the same person then Agamemnon insinuates a "happy ending" to the tragedy of Iphigenia and her sacrifice (as I mentioned to my reply and that Agamemnon Analysis, the essence of Agamemnon lashing out to Calchas seems to be indicating that Aulis incident is a homeric tradition given how Agamemnon doesn't fully elaborate as to why Calchas "never had a good prediction for him" as opposed to the idea of later on suggesting the marriage of Achilles to "Iphianassa"

Iphianassa seems to be simply an old variation of the name "Iphigenia" given how similar the names are (as opposed to "Laodice" for example) and both seem to be insinuating her noble birth as "Iphi" stands for "strong" (Another character in mythology that has it is for example Heracles's brother Iphicles) and "anassa" means "queen" while "genia" implies "bloodline" so she is named either "Strong Queen" or "Of strong Bloodline". Either way the names seem to be similar so it does seem at times that it is a variant of the same name, although the actual possibility of that being the name of another daughter of Agamemnon seems to be on the table I would lean more towards the first idea, that it is a variation or alternative (one can even blame the metric system in Homer that required the syllables of the name to fit his metric poem) given the lack of sources indicating otherwise.

Frazer for instance supports the idea that Homer didn't know the sacrifice tradition yet or doesn't quote it (explaining the existence of the betrothal with Iphianassa in the Iliad) or that the name Electra was unknown to him but I disagree with the first mainly because of the passage that as I said Agamemnon claims in distress that Calchas always has a bad prophecy for him. It is the second part that I am mostly intrigued by. As to whether Laodice and Electra are the same person or if they are two different traditions. Given how "Laodice" translates roughly as "people's judgement" seems pretty royal name to give. Whilst "Electra" simply means "Amber" or "Of amber color"

I am actually taking a leap here but I feel like Laodice was the name given to her at birth but "Electra" was a nickname given to her because of the color of her eyes or hair or both, pretty similar how Neoptolemus is nicknamed such ("new warrior" or "new conqueror") by Phoenix. In my brain it creates a fine parallel between Achilles and Agamemnon through their children, how their children have a different name by birth and got known later on by another. Of course I have no actual proof on this but it also seems to me like a parallel with Electra's tragedy as well given how Electra brings "justice" or "judgement" upon Clytemnestra later on.

Actually...no offense but I kinda am not fond of this interpretation dunno why, when we always say "they didn't care for female characters thus the names change" because honestly I think it is unfair. We have unchanging or relatively steady names of main female characters in mythology (Helen, Clytemnestra, Penelope, Chrysothemis etc) while others change depending on tradition, local names or history etc. With the same logic why aren't we promoting more that mythology "hates men" when out of the 108 suitors of Penelope only around 20 are named in the Odyssey and out of the 600 men of Odysseus only a handful are named or why aren't we speaking on "erasure of humanity" of characters that their name allegedly changed such as Lygiron being Achilles's original name or Alcides of Heracles etc. I understand of course where the idea and the interpretation comes from but honestly in a world of myths where women play a deuteragonistic role we often see names change indeed but so we do with men who are oftentimes not named at all when they play deuteragonistic role or their origins are misread or misinterpreted or confused or oftentimes is hard to tell who is who (Like Eurybates in Iliad and in Odyssey being unclear if he is the same person or different etc) Hehehe sorry parenthesis closed! back to the original point! -that is just me interpreting it by the way. It doesn't need to be more correct than the interpretation you give, it is just that it is my opinion in regards to the matter that we do not need to see "erasure of women" everywhere. Just that deuteragonists in a story often are indeed not steady or omitted unfortunately-

Anyways moving on; For the line of Atreus and Thyestes not implying the violence in the whole thing seems to me very similar to how the violence of the downfall of Tydeus is not touched in Homer. Tydeus's cannibalism which was the reson of his doom was never mentioned in Homer. If anything Tydeus is being praised throughout the poem and compared with his son. Similarly the way the line of succession between Agamemnon and Thyestes is not mentioned or touched upon can mean to me

It is not directly related to the story and potentially already known and spoken tradition that doesn't require much explaining

Creates character realism, given how the last thing Agamemnon or any of his peers would need would be to mention a story of betrayal and cannibalism before the army.

As you state later, Homer could easily be citing events that most of his readers and listeners already knew too well or were at least familiar with, so he didn't feel the need to elaborate further. The second is that it seems natural for the characters who aim for glory not to mention the least glorifying things of their past because the point would be for the heroes to be seen in battle as they are now and in one way the way that Iliad seems to be creating the pattern of "glorious men that try to reach and surpass the glory of their families" doesn't correspond with the monstrous details of their pasts. But also as I said their past or family lines are not directly linked to the story so they are not given much mention. For example the mention of the coup Hera made IS made mention in the Iliad because it was important for the pleading Thetis made to Zeus.

Of course the possibility any of these traditions not being part of Homeric story and lore or even not be invented till later on is always on the table but personally I like to think that a large number of these were rejected because the story didn't call for them and they had different focus.

Honestly if I had a dime every time we had a theory about this or that part of Homer being "later addition" or "being written by a different writer" came out I would be rich! Hahahaha jokes aside though even if it is valid critisism and a very valid point I kinda do not align with it. Maybe I am too biased with Homer or my own idea that Homer is one writer and that the poem seeming seamless to me but still I am not sure why would that prove the "later adition" thing. Many events in Homer do appear and then they are not mentioned again because they are not relevant to the next parts of the story. See for example the obvious strong bond created between Telemachus and Nestor's son Peisistratus which was mentioned thoroughly during the trip in Telemacheia and never was mentioned again Telemachus mentions his trip to Pylos but never mentions "I made a friend along the way" because it was not THAT strongly relevant to the story which was the purpose of Telemachus being on a cognitive trip to find information on his father. We also do not see much on Helen mentioning the horse ever again even if that seems to be critical to the story of Troy, it is not directly linked to the Odyssey or the messages it wanted to pass. The fight with Irus is not mentioned again in the Odyssey as if it never happened even if it was also another clear event that Odysseus proved his strength and was one of the first steps towards recognition with the suitors etc. The events that are directly mentioned on are usually the ones directly linked to the story (for example Polyphemus, Circe, Calypso etc or in Iliad the taking of Briseis, the wounding of certain heroes or the killing of others and the fear of the people related to them)

Certain events in the Iliad and the Odyssey are being mentioned before (see for example how Diomedes and Odysseus and Agamemnon are wounded in later rhapsodies after rhapsody 11 because their wounds are actually relevant to the story and the way it moves at that spot) as opposed to the one failed attempt to bring Achilles to battle at first. It doesn't seem to be offering any news to the story if Odysseus came out and said "here we are again to you Achilles" given how the reader and viewer already knows that we have an embassy or rather the attempt to give gifts to Achilles when Achilles lets go of his anger free of charge to Agamemnon.

But I agree it is all speculative given the lack of any other information apart from readings and speculations of other writers and scholiasts (ancient or contemporary) which is why the mystery behind the identity or lack of it of Homer is still on and open for discussion.

Hahahaha gosh this got massively long! Hahaha I am sorry! I would love to hear some of your thoughts onto mine! ^_^

[grimmweepers]

˚˖𓍢ִ໋🦢˚ 𝓻𝔂𝓾𝓱𝓪𝓲𝓽𝓱𝓪𝓶

there was an ache in my heart when i awoke in a strange, beautiful world that wasn’t my own. even as months turned to years, i still missed the familiar skies, the voice of loved ones and the home i had left behind. i wrote letters that went nowhere and whispered silent prayers that reached no one. it was like i was plucked from my own reality and placed in a world where i didn’t quite belong.

yet, as much as i longed for home, i was determined to learn in this new life. sumeru became my sanctuary and the akademiya, my solace. i learned their languages, customs, and secrets while sharing stories of the stars, landmarks, and beauty of my own world. the scholars listened, fascinated by the similarities and differences, but none more than al-haitham—a student assigned to guide me through this foreign land. he was a quiet presence. thoughtful and curious. he did not pity me.

and over time, he went from guide to peer to something more. over time, i wasn’t just seeking knowledge but also him. but what was the point? what was the point of falling for him if one day, i could just disappear—vanish back to my world, leaving him and teyvat behind? this could slip away at any moment. this might be as fleeting as a dream.

despite all reason, i still found myself loving him deeply. in a world that wasn’t my own, he had become my home.

𝐭𝐫𝐨𝐩𝐞𝐬: very slow burn, mutual pining, friends to lovers

𝐀𝐁𝐎𝐔𝐓 𝐔𝐒: 22.10.22 | playlist | genshinverse ryu | home for christmas (fic) | moodboards

𝐂𝐎𝐌𝐌𝐒: modern au | akademiya days | season of love | minecraft |

[arahactually]

damn

i can't believe i lost 250+ followers including mutuals to a tumblr bug🥲

[agendratum]

.

[bitegore]

Genuinely fucking batshit how some people will act as though the bare minimum level of care + respect for the people around them with different problems is like, an insurmountable fucking bar

[hollenka99]

YouTube yesterday: Hey btw The Longest Johns just released a song about Horatio Nelson's death.

Me: Cool, excuse me as I stare off into space and think about L'Manburgian soldiers' reaction to hearing about Kiril's dying to withering whenever I play the song.