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gayhomersimpson · 4 months

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The Black Ocean, a sight so rare

Only revealed on a full moon's glare

A mysterious body of water, deep and dark

Whispers of secrets, a haunting remark

Those who dare to venture near

Are greeted with a sense of fear

But for those brave enough to dive

A chance to clear their minds, to thrive

The moon's reflection, a silvery sheen

Revealing depths yet to be seen

As they sink into the inky abyss

A sense of calm, a sense of bliss

But beware, for there is a price

In this Ocean, there's more than meets the eyes

For those who stay past the night

Will be consumed by a never-ending plight

A voice, from another dimension

A tempting call, a dangerous mission

Those who listen, are forever lost

In the dark dimension, their souls are tossed

No way home, no glimmer of light

Just hopelessness, a never-ending night

Despair and darkness, their only guide

As they drown in this Ocean, unable to hide

The Black Ocean, a mysterious force

A place of beauty, but also remorse

For those who visit, a chance to escape

But for those who stay, a never-ending fate.

#the simpsons #au homer #black ocean #simpsons rp #their thoughts #our thoughts #??? thoughts

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jackson4571 · 3 months

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Do you ship Homer with Don Brodka. If you do then do you have any sweet headcanons about them

If your talking about my AU Homer blog then no, but I do have a headcanon for them.

Don is protective of Homer

Homer knows that Don needs to smoke once in a while

Homer keeps Don company

Don is reliable

Homer makes him laugh from time to time

Don would comfort Homer when he's down and stand up for him

Don takes shit from nobody

Homer makes sure Don eats his lunch and take it easy

#the simpsons #simpson #homer simpson #don brodka #au homer

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ibrithir-was-here · 1 year

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So discovered the Epic musical and it’s fantastic , and of course my sentimental self immediately went to “Ok but what if Odysseus actually did raise Astyanax as his own —fluff/angst with a happy ending AU” 😅

So anyway here’s some quick rough doodles on that premise, might be more later

#my art #epic #epic the cyclops saga #epic the troy saga #epic the musical #epic the ocean saga #homer's odyssey #odyssey #odysseus #astyanax #Odysseus epic #epic Odysseus #epic au #jorge rivera herrans #greek mythology #greek epic

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johaerys-writes · 3 months

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you're a walking disaster and yet-

—I'll follow in your wake.

Patrochilles | 148k | Modern AU | Ch. 23/23

Summary:

"You'll meet my son, Achilles, soon," Mr Pelides told Patroclus on their drive there. "You two will get along just fine. He's as wild as they come, though." The indulgent pride with which he said the words made them sound almost like a compliment. "Don’t let him talk you into anything."

Patroclus blushed as he swore, with strong conviction, that he would absolutely not do that. No sir.

He knows better than that.

Or: Achilles is a threat and a menace. As they grow up together, Patroclus falls for him anyway.

Read the complete work on AO3!

#patrochilles #achilles #patroclus #the song of achilles #tsoa #hades game #the iliad #homer's iliad #modern au #now that this is finished #thought I'd make a proper promo #i already miss them so much SO much 😭#anyway #i'm really proud of this 🥹 go read it it’s good I promise 🙏#johaerys writes #Spotify

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orchestrated-haunting · 3 months

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something something pokémon au odysseus

his signature pokémon is shiny decidueye. i think that penelope sewed his pants herself and the white spots are embroidered and also he wears an archery glove (i have no idea if its right because i don’t do archery myself and just googled it).

i think this au probably takes place like pre- to mid- trojan war, so odysseus is in his early to mid 20s.

#tagamemnon #homer’s odyssey #the odyssey #odysseus #odysseus of ithaca #odysseus fanart #pokémon au #orchestrated art

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smokey07 · 5 days

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Random doodles to mess around with genetics. I have an unhealthy obsession of drawing family members together.

My HC is that Helen can pull off a full Clytemnestra look when she wants to/ gets angry enough ( see that painting of Clytemnestra with an double axe by John Collier). Helen is on the right btw

Neo is a mix of his father's eyes, overall face shape and build, along with his mother's hair, nose, eyebrow shape and skin tone. The red color was a lighter version of Deidamia's red brown.

From my Iliad AU, the HC is that Diomedes and Neoptolemus are basically the idea of finding your doppelgänger in the middle of the street, absolutely not related but somehow look similar-ish.

While Achilles looks like the perfect hero in a story with a more polished look, Diomedes would look more rugged and Wolverine-like wild.

#the iliad #homer iliad #doodle #digital doodle #alternate universe #iliad au #traditional art #traditional sketch #helen of sparta #helen of troy #clytemnestra #achilles #deidamia #neoptolemus #pyrrhus #diomedes #greek mythology #helen would be scary af and ill live for it

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mylifeisfruk4ever · 1 year

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Immortal Achilles Au

@gwensparlour

Au: Thetis manages to make Achilles immortal, who becomes a god of war and justice. Though immortal, he still finds Patroclus.

There was a god on Phthia's throne. Nobody knew his name. They called him the Beast. The Bloodthirsty. The monster of Phthia.

Patroclus knew the rumors by heart by now, how the god took the place of the previous king in a more or less peaceful way and ruled the Myrmidons with an iron fist.

He was a bloodthirsty and violent being, but whoever went to him could apply for asylum and make his reasons heard.

If you wanted help, you had to pique his interest.

And Patroclus was desperate enough to try that too, despite the rumors.

He was a prince deposed in error, his father had died in shame. He had to reconquer the throne, to regain his honor and let his father's shadow rest in peace in his underworld.

He didn't expect the Beast of Phthia to be so beautiful.

"So, you are Prince Patroclus," the god king said, slouched on his throne.

"They call you a perjurer and a murderer. And yet, you are here."

"Only one of those things is true, and I've always had respect for the gods," Patroclus said, keeping his head down.

"Me too?"

"Especially you."

"Oh? Still, you mustn't have heard pleasant stories about me."

"Not even on the king of gods, yet I pray to him every day. Gods and humans have similar morals, your grace."

A little later he realized his mistake, and prepared to be flayed alive.

The god did an unexpected thing: he laughed.

"You have balls. It's rare these days. I like you."

#iliad #homer's iliad #crossover #fanfiction #books #feels #au #tsoa madeline miller #hades achilles #the song of achilles #achilles heel #patroclus #patrochilles #fic prompt #birthday gift

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m1dn1ght-lag00n · 1 month

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Welcome to the Magic,Paint and Thinner Au

or MPAT

(kinda looks like Matpat)

This is my official au!!

Characters:

TOONTOWN

Mickey Mouse

Minnie Mouse

Yen Sed

Bluebell Gus

WASTELAND

King Oswald [Princess] Wisteria Lucky

Junior

Felix the Cat

Fanny

Homer the cat

Ortensia’s in-laws

Somewhere between

Bendy

Alice Angel

Baxstar (@baxstarmallow06)

Felicity Fieldmouse

Dead/Missing

Ortensia

WIP

#epic mickey au #oswald the lucky rabbit #epic mickey #mickey mouse #minnie mouse #ortensia the cat #yeah ortensia is dead #homer the cat #felix the cat #wisteria the cabbit #MPATau

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gayhomersimpson · 1 year

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Do you sometimes find it wired that people know you but you don't know them?

Yes, a lot of people know me but I don't know them... It makes me feel confused because I don't remember talking to them.

#au homer #the simpsons #homer simpson

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fidjiefidjie · 1 year

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"Si la neige était noire, les gens feraient moins de ski." ⛷️😁

Jean-Marie Gourio/ Brèves de comptoir

Gif série TV/ Homer Simpson

#gif animé #gif série tv #homer simpson #ski #vacances au ski #humour #quotes #jean marie gourio #funny pics #brèves de comptoir #fidjie fidjie

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johaerys-writes · 4 days

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Chapter 1: Restless Sinner

Read on AO3

“What’s the verdict, Chiron?”

Chiron squints at the horizon, at the sun that’s dipping slowly behind the golden foothills of the western mountain range, red hot and heavy. The weather in the valley can be unpredictable, and it has always fallen to Achilles’ wise tutor to observe the signs and patterns in the sky, the clouds, the birds.

“A long, hot summer,” he says. “Dry and windy, with little chance of rain.”

Peleus groans. The neck of the bottle clings at the glass’s edge when he fills it. “It will be hell for the harvest,” he says. “Last year, half the alfalfa was scorched, and the clover was barely enough to make up for it. The cattle will have nothing to graze on by July.”

“We’ll still have the barley,” Chiron says mildly, “and the spring has been gentle. The fields beyond the river are still plush and green. Being a pessimist does not become you, my friend.”

Achilles listens to the men with half an ear. The old saddle he’s been trying to fix for days now is largely a lost cause; the leather is chafed and cracked in places, the balance of the seat is off, and it won’t fit on the back of his new horse anyway. But he still fidgets with it for want of anything better to do, picking apart the stitching and mending the straps. The hounds sprawl around him, tired from a full day of running after the sheep and the horses and the cattle.

Peleus sighs and lights his pipe. The puff of silver smoke momentarily obscures his features, then is blown away by a gust of wind. “Yes,” he says, and the smile on his lips is only a little forced. “I suppose you are right.”

One of the dogs lifts its head and sniffs at the air. It woofs softly, under its breath, then takes off towards the gates. The rest of the hounds are quick to follow, baying and howling up a storm. Together they all raise a ruckus, frightening the horses that neigh and huff from inside the barn.

“There’s someone at the gate,” Chiron says, and casts a questioning glance towards it.

“I’ll go have a look.” Achilles jumps to his feet. He rushes after the dogs, shushing them as soon as he draws near. At the sight of him they are all brought to heel; they are clever, obedient dogs, trained by his father since they were taken from their mothers. They skulk away from the gates, yet with their ears still pricked up and snouts lifted up in the air as Achilles unbars the door and swings it open.

The boy that’s standing at the ranch’s threshold is the last thing Achilles would have expected to see at this time of day. He must be about fourteen, fifteen at most; his face is dark and sunburnt beneath the shadows of his wide-brim hat, his neck glistening with sweat. He holds himself up tall, though it’s clear by his posture and the traildust on his clothes that he’s been travelling for the better part of the day, perhaps longer.

“Are you lost?” Achilles asks him. It isn’t very often that they get visitors this time of day, or evening.

The boy gives him a long, level look, fidgeting absently with the strap of the pack hanging off his shoulder, which seems to be his only possession. “This the Pelides ranch?” he asks, voice hoarse and scratchy with exhaustion. His soft drawl sounds vaguely southern, but not from a place Achilles can easily discern.

“The very same.”

“Is the owner home? Mister Pelides?”

“Who’s asking?”

The boy tenses. “I’d rather speak to him directly, if it’s all the same to you.”

Achilles gives him a careful look-over, his thumb tucked behind his belt. He doesn’t look like a desperado—too young, perhaps, for that, though Phthia's been seeing more and more of them of late— and he’s no peddler either; he's got no wares to sell that Achilles can see. His shirt and his leather chaps would have once been of good make though they’re now worn and dusty, and the silver spurs on his boots mark him as anything but a laboring man. Whoever he is, he must have been well off… at some point.

Achilles hesitates for a moment before he gives the dogs a clipped command. They all sit on their haunches as Achilles swings the door open to let the boy in. He waits for Achilles to bar the gates again and lead him up to the house’s front porch, where Peleus and Chiron are now curiously watching.

“What’s your name, son?” Peleus asks, a friendly yet cautious smile on his lips as they ascend the porch steps. Everyone around these parts has learned not to trust strangers too quickly.

“Patroclus, sir.”

“And what’s your father’s name, Patroclus?”

Patroclus’ jaw clenches. “I ain’t got none, sir.”

Peleus’ expression softens just a little with genuine compassion at this. His father’s always had a soft spot for those without family, home, or hope. "Well, I'm sorry to hear that, son." He rocks a little back and forth on his rocking chair, his smoking pipe dangling from his lips. “What can I do for you, Patroclus?”

“Looking for work,” Patroclus says without preamble. “I'm strong, and I work fast. I can bale hay and buck barley and clean the cattle pens, and fix them fallen fence posts what I saw on my way in—or anything else that needs fixing.”

Peleus considers this for a moment. “Hay season is still a ways away,” he remarks thoughtfully. “And I’ve got enough men for the fences and the barley and the cattle. Come back in a month and I’ll have work for you.”

His tone is dismissal enough. Peleus pushes himself up and turns towards the house, missing the boy’s face that instantly falls at his words. Patroclus' dark eyes go wide in alarm and his mouth works soundlessly for a moment, lips cracked by the heat and the sun. He must have been out under the blazing hot sun of the valley for days, weeks by the looks of it. His hands are soft though, delicate fingers tightening over the brim of his hat. Hands that probably haven’t known half the work they claim they have.

Achilles’ heart clenches, inexplicably, at this.

“Calving and foaling season is almost upon us,” he tells his father carelessly. He picks up the old saddle he’d set aside before the boy showed up, and starts absently working on the stitching again. “Last year we were running ourselves rugged day and night; sure wouldn’t hurt to have another set of hands around.”

Peleus stops short. Patroclus stares at Achilles, but his surprise lasts only for a moment before he hurries to say, “I’ve worked with cattle before, and I’ve grown up around horses. I can ride a horse and train a horse for carriage and for riding, and I can muck out the stalls. I can do anything you tell me, and I won’t ask for nothing more than a hot meal and a place to sleep.”

He doesn’t say ‘please’ but Achilles can almost hear it, at the tip of his tongue. He catches himself silently begging his father to take the boy in.

Peleus stays quiet for a long minute, his face obscured by the smoke of his pipe when he puffs it. “Pay is ten drachmae a day, plus board and lodging. The men’s bunks are full; you’ll have to sleep in the barn for now. This alright with you?”

“Yes, sir,” Patroclus says, and the palpable relief in his voice is almost…heartbreaking. “Thank you, sir.”

Peleus nods again, pleased by the boy’s response. “Achilles,” he says, “show Patroclus to his lodgings, and fetch him something to eat.”

The barn, in Achilles’ opinion, is one of the least comfortable places one could sleep in. The floor is dusty no matter how often you sweep it, the air smells of hay and the thick musky odour of horses, but the stalls are spacious, at least, and the hay is warm and soft to sleep on. To someone who’s been sleeping on the ground for days—as Achilles thinks Patroclus has done—a hay bed will seem like a feather mattress.

The horses stir sleepily in their stalls when he pushes the doors open, disgruntled and skittish for having been disturbed for the second time that evening. Achilles leads Patroclus to the last stall, which is empty and clean save for the narrow bed they keep there for occasions such as this.

“Hope you like bean stew,” Achilles tells him when he returns a little while later, handing him the bowl he brought, along with a thick piece of bread and some strips of dried jerky. “It’s what we have most days this time of year. That, or peas, or whatever’s in season. I’ve also brought you a towel and a clean shirt and a blanket. Still gets chilly at night sometimes. There’s also a water barrel out back if you’d like to wash. Looks like you need it. No offence,” he adds hastily, when Patroclus glances down at his dusty clothes.

“Um… thanks,” he mumbles. “Appreciate it.” He sets the bundle Achilles brought him at the edge of the mattress before he sits down, then brings a big spoonful of the stew to his mouth. A little sound of pleasure escapes him at this; it isn’t very long before his attention is entirely devoted to his food, as if he’s forgotten Achilles is there.

Achilles leans with his shoulder against the stall door, watching him. Patroclus wolfs down his dinner in the manner of someone who is near starving to death, but is still too proud to chuck the spoon away and gulp down the stew straight from the bowl.

“I’ll be sure to bring you another one, since you liked the first so much,” he jokes when Patroclus scoops the last of the stew with a piece of bread.

“Thank you,” Patroclus says, a little embarrassed. “But I wouldn’t want to put you in any trouble.”

“It’s no trouble, there’s plenty left,” Achilles says with a smile. “And our cook, Briseis, will be flattered to hear you like it so much. It’s only been a couple months since our old cook left and she’s taken over— and it was for the best, let me tell you.”

He chuckles at his own joke, but Patroclus doesn’t join him. He’s too busy stuffing the remainder of the bread and the jerky into his mouth, then chugging down the pitcher of water Achilles brought him earlier. Achilles wonders how long ago it was since he last had a proper meal.

“So… is it true you have no parents?” Achilles asks him. “No father, no mother either?”

Patroclus stiffens slightly at this. He chews and swallows, then shakes his head.

“An orphan, then?”

“That’s how they call kids without parents where I’m from,” Patroclus replies coolly.

“And where are you from?”

“Far from here.”

He looks away, his expression distant and closed off. It doesn’t take much to understand that he doesn’t want to talk about it any further; Achilles, for once, doesn’t push it.

“Alright, then.” He pushes himself upright. “I’ll go bring you that bowl of stew, and then you should probably try to rest a bit. The horses will make sure you’re up before dawn anyway.”

He winks and flashes him a quick, easy smile as he turns to go.

“It’s Achilles, right?” Patroclus asks. “Achilles Pelides?”

Achilles stops short just as he steps out of the stall. “Yes,” he says. “That’s right.”

“Thanks for… speaking up for me,” Patroclus says. “For getting your father to take me in. I really… really needed the work.”

Oh, but it wasn’t personal. They just needed the extra hands, that’s all. People come and go from the ranch all the time; the place will be buzzing with seasonal workers soon. One more isn’t going to make that big of a difference. Chances are, whoever this boy is, he won't stick around for very long either way. It would be foolish of him to feel indebted to him.

Achilles isn’t going to tell him that, though.

“You owe me one, Patroclus No-Name,” he says as he walks out of the barn.

Read the rest on AO3

#patrochilles #western au #patroclus #achilles #tsoa #the song of achilles #hades game #the iliad #homer's iliad

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