Charles Xavier, Chronologically :

The person I reblogged this from deserves to be happy

I tried to scroll past this. I really did

Yea so Ody is finally home and he’s with his wife and son. It’s all cool and fun. But hold on. Can you imagine how HORRIFYING Odysseus and his family must be to other Royals now?

Here is a king that fought monsters, witches, slaughtered most of the male Nobles in his kingdom. FOUGHT POSEIDON AND MADE HIM BEG FOR MERCY!

And worst of all, he is crazy smart. So negotiating or trying to make deals with Odysseus must be the most horrifying thing in existence at the time. You can’t threaten him, you can’t negotiate a better position than him, you can only just sit there and smile as you pray you don’t accidentally offend him.

Oh and that’s not all, If Penelope also dislikes you, you’re f***ed. Because Odysseus fought a war for 10 years over an oath. Imagine what he would do if someone tried something with his wife… OH WAIT, we don’t have to. He SLAUGHTERED them! And she might not even need him to.

She is from Sparta and by Odysseus own words JUST AS SMART AS HIM. The main reason she didn’t go out and fight those nobles/kick them out is because of the laws of hospitality (which are enforced by Zeus). But with her god piercer husband, she doesn’t need to be so polite anymore. And she held the kingdom together for 20 years! She knows how to handle business. So yea, don’t mess with her either.

And his kid? He’s a warrior of the mind now! Who has the favor of ATHENA! WHO in a very short time learned how to fight. Going from losing a fist fight, to fighting dozens of men who only overwhelmed him because he got TIRED of kicking their asses! He has ATHENA on his side as his best friend. Dont even try

Point is The Ithaca royal family is a f***ing nightmare to deal with now.

roy calls jason his wife because jason is a clean freak and their shared living spaces WILL be clean on god. jason keeps threatening to become a widow if roy doesn’t stop calling him that. and then also i think roy absentmindedly holds jason's waist sometimes. is this anything

Ok so I had an idea about Ody’s eventual death

Hermes’s smile was tinged with sadness, something unusual for the god. “Hello, old friend.”

“Hello, Hermes.” Odysseus pulled his gaze from his body, wrapped in the funeral shroud lovingly made by Penelope, to the bag in his hands. His fingers clutched it tighter, and he looked up at the messenger god. “Do you think they’ll hate me?”

“They will be angry, but they could never hate their captain.” Hermes took Odysseus’s hand. “It’s time to go.”

Hermes’s hand tightened, so much that Odysseus’s spectral hand would have felt crushed under his godly strength. His feet left the ground, going faster and faster and faster, trailing behind Hermes like the trail of a shooting star. Maybe that’s what he looked like when he delivered souls, Odysseus didn’t know.

His feet touched down on the bank of the river Styx, where over six hundred familiar faces currently waited. Odysseus’s feet hit the ground soundlessly a moment later. This would take some getting used to.

“Goodbye, Odysseus of Ithaca. I’ll… I’ll miss fighting by your side.”

That may have been one of the most genuine things Hermes had ever said. Odysseus smiled and fiddled with his bag. “Hermes? Thank you.”

“Don’t thank me, friend, you died,” he said. “Good luck.”

He vanished with a blur of orange light.

Odysseus took a deep breath. It was time.

He walked—slowly, so slowly—towards his old crew. One by one, they turned to face him. Their eyes fell on his bag, and his old, wizened face, proof of a long life. Odysseus wanted to hide it, but he knew he must remain confident in his decisions from all those years ago.

“Comrades.” His eyes fell on two faces he longed to see- one tall, clean-shaven man with dark skin, and one man with a red cloth headband and a mess of curly hair. “Friends. I come after years of keeping you waiting, and for that I beg your forgiveness.” His eyes fell upon Eurylochus. “But I hope that this can sate your desires to leave this place.”

His hands tugged at the string keeping his bag together, and it came undone, almost as if it were waiting for this moment. Six hundred men saw it open, and a murmur went through them. It contained gold—so much gold that they could all get across the river.

Whispers turned to murmurs, but nobody moved forwards to come get a coin. A huge gap remained between Odysseus and the six hundred men he outlived. His shoulders drooped.

One man stepped forwards. Eurylochus of Same, his second in command. He picked out a coin from the bag, then held it up in the air. “Let’s hear it for Odysseus, our captain.”

The murmurs started up again, until the sound of clapping came from the middle of the crowd. Polites.

Ghostly tears flowed down Odysseus’s face as more and more men joined in. They all started to move towards him, cheering for him. Cheering for the life he got to have. Cheering for the chance to finally be together as a crew again.

Thanks for reading! I’d just like to say that my Hermes transportation scene was mostly based on @witless-winion1 ‘s Ctimene fic.

I think people misunderstand "x fell first, y fell harder " trope because it's not about like the one who fell harder loves the other person harder. It's just that the one who fell first falls in a graceful way, one step at the time, maybe gradually over a span of time. The one who fell harder smashes trough the air, there's blood everywhere, everything is fine-

Read a fic years ago (please help me find it so I can give credit) where physical manifestations of different DC cities showed up. That's pretty much all I remember, but this is what I think Gotham looks like.

She wears a gray hoodie over a black ball dress (concealing a near infinite number of knives) with a skirt that's torn and stained with blood and filth. The dress is low backed, and when she takes off the hoodie it reveals an abundance of whipping scars. She wears a pearl necklace and rarely speaks, though she has been known to sing, scream, and make various cooing, chirping, hissing, growling or otherwise animalistic noises.

Her hair and skin are dark, her eyes kaleidoscopes (everyone disagrees afterwards what color they were, all agree they saw into your soul), and her height changes according to the situation. She has a black eye and tear-stained cheeks, some say because she is forever mourning her children. Her feet are bare and bleeding, as though she's been walking on broken glass.

She wanders the alleys and walks the shadows, weeping, bleeding, mourning, comforting, calling. Darkness heeds her command, and she protects her children however she can. She is the adoptive mother of the strays and orphans that dwell within. She is Lady Gotham.

More under the cut

without background

close ups on eyes and necklace

Please let me know what you think and whether I should do more

...i will be right back

Your are the monarch of a historical/fantasy kingdom, who perished many years ago and your name is only written down in recorded history, know only to future generations.

Out of the 130 options in the picker wheel here (all are gender neutral),

And yes: there is a 'no epithet' option in there.

I got The Oathtaker.

my prof told me homer actually prolly did this intentionally in order to have a bigger target audience

Prof (Of classics) just told me that we can interpret Achilles and Patroculus any way we want bc the ancient greeks couldn’t even make up their minds “It all depends on who you ask when and where”