#Yes that's HIS wife but it also goes to show how he wouldn't forgive those even trying to woo her.

[dootznbootz]

Yes, Odysseus was "Defending what's his" and "reclaiming his kingship, riches, and masculinity" during the killing of the suitors but Leiodes' death shows how it was also still very much personal and about Penelope.

Then Leiodes ran out, grabbed Odysseus’s knee,                                   and begged him—his words had wings: “Odysseus, I implore you at your knee—respect me and have pity. I tell you I’ve never                                       injured a single woman in these halls by saying or doing something reckless. Instead I tried to stop the other suitors when they did those things. They did not listen or restrain their hands from acting badly. So their own wickedness now brings about their wretched fate. Among them I’m a prophet who has done no wrong, and yet I will lie dead, since there’s no future thanks for one’s good deeds.” Shrewd Odysseus glared at him and answered:                           “If, in fact,                                           you claim to be a prophet with these men, no doubt here in these halls you’ve often prayed that my goal of a sweet return would stay unrealized, so my dear wife could go back to your own home and bear you children. That’s why you won’t escape a bitter death.” As he said this, Odysseus picked up in his fist a sword that lay nearby—Agelaus had dropped it and left it on the ground when he was killed—with it Odysseus struck Leiodes right across his neck.                                       His head was rolling in the dust as he was speaking.

(Book 22, Johnston)

Leiodes: "Hey, we're good, right? I didn't even do anything with your servants or riches." Odysseus: "I don't care if you didn't do anything else, your crime is that you were trying to court my wife in the first place. You're fucking dead."

Also, he was so angry that he cut off his head in one stroke (Athena was juicing him up but still)

Touch the Wife, you get the Knife.

[headoverhiddles]

The Interview Went Fine - Jack Torrance x Reader [Smut]

Synopsis: You're the assistant of the man interviewing people for positions as the winter caretaker here at the Overlook. One man catches your attention.

Notes: HAPPY 82nd BIRTHDAY JACK. Ah I'm in such a Jack mood. Thanks to @tats-kisses-and-horror haha 😘 Also slight warning for cheating, the whole fic is an affair.

"I don't suppose they, uh... told you anything in Denver about the tragedy we had up here during winter of 1970?"

Your boss, Stuart Ullman, sits behind the desk. You, dressed in your secretarial uniform of a blouse and pencil skirt, sort through the file for one Mr. Jack Torrance, candidate for the job. Curious, you tune into the conversation to hear his answer.

"I don't believe they did."

Liar.

"Well," Ullman goes on, hesitation evident in his voice, "Our predecessor suffered some kind of mental breakdown. He ran amok, and uh..." You look away. Why did Ullman always have to tell this story? "...killed his family with an axe."

Jack takes some time to process this, and you use that time to watch him. He's got interesting features-- high brows, sharp eyes that seem to stare into you, and hands that you can't take your eyes off of. He's attractive... at least, you're attracted to him. But the look he had given you earlier was salacious, and he seems like every other man that ever wanted a look up your skirt. Besides, he's married. Just like every other man who wants you!

Still--

"Well. That is, uh... quite a story." He laughs, diffusing the tension, and you and Ullman laugh with him. "What do you think about that, sweetheart?" Jack turns to you. "Hm?"

"Oh, she's heard the story a hundred--" Ullman starts.

"It intrigues me," you tell Mr. Torrance, never breaking eye contact. "What would make a family man snap like that?"

"I guess certain conditions can drive a man to do lots of things he wouldn't normally do," Jack answers you, then finally breaks your gaze. "Of course, that's just my two cents of a look into a... deranged murderer's head." Everyone laughs at the absurdity, but Mr. Torrance's eyes never leave you, even as you busy yourself again.

Ullman raises his eyebrows at the two of you, and gets up.

"I'm going to get the lower level ready to show you, Jack. You two hang tight til about 12:30, will you?"

"That'll be fine," Jack smiles, folding his hands in his lap. You keep your back turned and head into the next office room, chewing on your lip.

---

As you get the papers together for him to sign, you feel someone press up behind you, invading your personal space. His hands come to rest on your shoulders, and you turn ever so slightly.

"Mr. Torrance?"

"Yes, doll?" His voice is gravelly smooth in your ear, and you can hear his smile. You fight the urge to grind your ass back into his obvious erection.

"What do you think you're doing?"

"Well..." One of his hands travels down your arm. "I was thinking. I don't have to be home til late. It's, oh..." he checks his watch, "Just gone noon. Why don't we head upstairs, and you... give me a little tour of the second floor bedrooms. Now how about that?"

You inhale, trying not to let his voice get to you. You turn, back to the desk, pressed against it by the writer's proximity.

"You're married."

He backs off a little, and it's as if a dark cloud takes over his face. He sullenly glances away. "Could someone not remind me of that fact for one fucking second?!" He softens a little. "It's not the same as it was. You don't understand-- I haven't had my wife for nearly a year. Almost a year now it's been. Could you imagine what that's like for a man?"

"Most likely just as bad as it is for a woman," you sigh, and brush past him. He lets you go, but follows you into a different room.

"So you're looking for a little too."

"I never said that."

"You understood my frustration."

"I'm empathetic," you try to sound stern, but Jack seems to catch the little hitch of your breath. He starts to smirk, and you feel a little weak. You can't deny it. You are attracted to the man, but he's an insufferable, entitled ass. With a great ass. And a sizeable bulge, packed into tight blue jeans. And really fucking sexy eyes, that are currently undressing you. Desire takes over, and you can't seem to rationalize anymore. Married was he? Your vision fogs until all you can see is Jack, walking toward you, feeling his hands on your arms again, only this time he's doing it with intention. You moan softly, and just as he gets to your skirt, he drags a thumb across your chin.

"Now despite what you may think, I'm not that kinda guy. I won't touch what isn't mine to touch, babygirl." He gives one of those wide, splitting grins, and you bite your lip.

"Do it."

That's all he needs. In a fluid motion, he bunches your skirt up, and lifts you onto the table easily, fitting himself between his legs. You tilt your head back, and he holds you by the arm as you grind your panties against his clothed bulge. He looks down at his corduroy pants, at how a wet spot it forming where you're dragging.

"That's really something, darling," he muses, groaning softly, then stalls your movements, pressing a hand to your crotch. He then starts to drag his finger up and down, brushing your clit, massaging just around your entrance. You clench for him.

"You think you're ready for daddy?" he whispers, and you sigh.

"Yes, Mr. Torrance."

"Hm. I like this Mr. Torrance thing, Miss (y/l/n). See, it makes me feel important."

"Yes, sir."

He bites his bottom lip, glancing down at you. He wants you bad, you can tell by the way he's staring hungrily, and you can't say you're far behind him.

"When does that fuck Ullman come back?"

"He'll be finished preparing the boiler room for a tour in probably," you take Jack's wrist, checking his watch, "Ten minutes."

"Think he can hear us from down there?" Jack asks, rocking his hips a few times into you, grinding himself against your clit. You nearly moan again, but bite it back.

"I... couldn't say."

"Let's see if we can't get the shit back up here to check, the uh... strange noises," he chuckles. "Ghosts are the least of his problems."

You giggle, and he reaches down, palming himself with a moan before taking himself out. You lick your lips, and lean back on your forearms on the table as Jack pulls your hips down, fitting himself inside you.

"Fuck," you hiss, "Yeah."

"Good?" he breathes, wincing.

"Uh huh."

He huffs as he draws out and gives a good thrust back in, belt jangling. "Now remember what I said, doll. It's been a while. Don't expect me to be Superman here."

You moan, feeling him stretch you. "Tha-that... that's okay... daddy..." you whine, and he smiles, gently rubbing a hand up your torso.

"What a pretty little whore you are."

"Ohgod," you murmur, eyes slipping shut. He's building you fast.

"H-he'll hear us."

"So what..?"

"N-no Jack, he will!"

"As long as you keep making those fucking noises, then yeah, sweetheart, he will."

You try to keep quiet. "Sorry daddy."

His aggravation blossoms into a full grin. "Not to worry. Daddy'll always forgive his girl. Plus, I thought we were trying to give him ideas. Maybe next he'll hire the Ghostbusters."

You both laugh darkly as he continues to pound you. Your hair is stuck to your neck, and he has his own sheen of sweat glistening. You grip on to burgundy jacket, and his hips stutter.

"Mmf," he mutters, and turns you around so you're bent over the table. He uses both hands to knead your ass as he fucks you even harder, and you can't help it-- you let out a loud moan of his name.

He gives your ass a sharp spanking. "Look at you now. Mrs. I don't want you to fuck me, Jack. Little miss refuses my advances then drops her panties like a wanton slut."

You reach back and take his finger into your mouth coyly, giving him doe eyes from where your head is turned back and pressed into the table. He groans, hips stuttering once more and eyes rolling back. Before he can pull out, he comes hard inside you. You gasp, feeling his cum leaking out of you, and climax as well, holding onto the table.

You both breathe heavily as you recover from the quickie.

"I'm sorry," he says quietly, "I really didn't mean to finish in you. I really meant to get offa you in time--"

"Hey," you smirk, "It happens."

"Yeah. Well, so do kids," Jack mutters, rolling his eyes as he smoothes back his messed up hair, "Or as I like to call them, happy little accidents!"

You maintain your smile, tugging down your skirt. "I'm on the pill."

He huffs a sigh of obvious relief. It made sense-- he does have a wife, and he already has a kid. He gives you one last up and down, then smacks your ass.

"Feel free to drop by the hotel anytime this winter. I hear it gets cold, so, uh..." He nods down to your peaked nipples, "Wear a fucking bra this time, and I'll supply the snowplow to get you home."

You laugh at his joking as he leads you by the arm out of the small office. Ullman comes up the stairs from the boiler room to see you holding onto Jack's arm. He gives Jack a cold stare.

"Better acquainted now, are you?"

"Oh, sure." Jack nods, giving a big, fake smile. "(y/n) makes one helluva cup of coffee."

You all laugh politely, voices echoing in the vast, empty lobby of the Overlook. The two of you follow along behind the boss, as Jack's hand slides up your back.

[therewas-a-girl]

Hey i love the insight you give to Oliver and im not so lucky to be an analytical (😬😊) and was wondering what does Oliver trusting himself have to do with him not telling Felicity? And what does Felicity mean when she says she understands now because of Billy? Those scenes have me very confused.

okay, anon here i am, finally. im so sorry for the  late reply, but i’ve had a couple of bad days preceded by some worse weeks T_T, and i’m in the middle of exams * T_T harder* , so free time is essentially not here for me.

BUT i’m on my break now - 

SO!

first of all, thank you! i find it  a little bit surprising tbh, cause i never saw myself as very analytical - i just sort of obsess over details and some things seem to make sense only to me?  or i just don’t know how to express them clearly enough. but im going to try my best, i promise. but don’t take me at my word, cause honestly, even as i write this, im still trying to understand this myself, so i’ll just… take with with a grain of salt

im going to take up the easy one first: felicity. mostly because, where felicity’s ‘i understand now because of Billy’, of all things, is concerned, my reaction is basically this :

im just not here for it, and i dont care to bullshit my way into circular meta/rationalization over it, because the subtext of it as an idea alienates and, frankly, enrages me.

Oliver… 

So, the first thing i thought when i heard Oliver say, ‘i dont trust myself’ is the fact that, this whole conviction he has right now (that he enjoyed killing, and that everything that is and went wrong in his life, stems form this truth he hid from himself)is based on his supposed clarity about himself and his nature that he gained when he was holed up and tortured by Adrian for 7 days. Aka, not to be trusted.

my messy reasoning goes kind of like this: 

in the flashbacks, we saw Felicity tell him that she still felt like he didn’t trust her, or anyone.  That she didn’t understand why, and ‘maybe you don’t understand why either’. Leaving us with the hint  that, until he does, and deals with it, he will keep making the same choices. 

Oliver did not contradict her - which makes me think he, in part, agreed with her. 

(the writers use characters for this kind of ‘truth exposition’ thing, so i’m guessing they wanted to tell is that yes, Oliver does think this, and doesn’t understand this about himself*) 

so he has this insecurity, this… missing understanding about himself. A secret, so to speak. A truth about himself that he is so afraid of, that he has buried it so deep inside that is not even buried; It’s suppressed at this point. Which is why he didn’t understand himself. 

Adrian kidnaps him. 

Now, i thought it important to remember that he is the villain. (and here is where the text and my interpretation of it mix a little) Adrian is super smart and intuitive about people, and also - important! - a lawyer. He knows how to ask questions, how to lead people on. All the while Oliver was there, Adrian was in his suit, walking back and forth like in front of  a jury, totally calm, asking one leading question after another; plus a lovely side dish of torture, because why not trigger all the lovely trauma. 

And he got what he wanted. He got Oliver to tell him exactly what he wanted to hear!

Basically Adrian made Oliver look at his deepest fear, and admit it as truth. (and it’s not that i think the whole ‘i liked it’ about killing is a lie. but i think its more complicated than ‘you’re a dangerous crazy person who enjoys killing. who knows what you might do’) . A truth that Oliver has, apparently, always known on a subconscious level. Something he has  never faced but always feared. 

(which is, ironically, what makes it so easy to believe. It’s always a lot easier to believe the bad things about ourselves - but even more so when you take into account how self-deprecating Oliver is. hello depression how are you?)

This truth he admitted has been behind his every hesitation, his every insecurity. The fear that goes kind of like this: ‘You are a bad person because you did horrible things, monstrous things, and it’s not that you’re not sorry. You  liked it’.  

To someone like Oliver, whose sense of morality, right and wrong, is mostly internal, personal, (but also informed by conventional understanding of good and evil ) and who relies on ideals, motivations, reasons, to help him navigate his daily life, this is basically shattering the ground he walks on.

Oliver has always seemed to me like he needed to believe that his actions were right. Extreme, but justifiable, doing the right thing. (i remember his whole speech in s1 when he made an offer to John about joining him. about how the rich people of Starling were stepping on the city’s throat and not caring who they hurt and if nobody was going to stop them, then ‘its going to be me’. it was to fulfill a promise, a duty - something he sometimes even seemed to resent. but to do that, he had to believe he was doing the right thing, though in flawed ways) 

…that he didn’t even think were that flawed since, in season 1, he was having some SERIOUS adjustments issues when it came to adapting to civilian life. Every time he went out there, he was ‘kill or be killed’ mentality of a war-zone, which had been his reality for 5 years. Took some time to shake that off and even be able to see that he didn’t have to kill to survive. (and holy shit am i digressing)

Now, it seems to me that Oliver took this admission when he was in that cell, and did not stop to examine the ‘why-s’ and ‘how-s’, or even doubt the conclusion Adrian led him to, based on who was ‘holding his hand’ trying to get him there. Because Oliver says it himself - ‘Adrian did not make me a killer’. He frees this truth from circumstance completely. (either the circumstances of his admission, or even, before that, his behavior/violence) 

I don’t even think circumstances matter to him; they’d probably sound like justifications and he’d feel even worse for trying to justify himself, when he thinks so lowly of himself. 

Obviously Felicity puts it in far better context than he is capable - or rather, willing -  to do, reminding him, in 5.20, of things that he maybe knows to be true, but that he thinks have no bearing on his actions, or his judgement of himself. (’Five years in hell did that. Five years dealing with this city’s worst criminals did that’). She immediately gives him context, that Oliver probably feels either guilty for considering, or like it has no bearing, because he still chose murder, and who does that? Bad people who are not to be trusted. The kind of people he used to kill, in fact. (a belief reinforced by the accidental murder of Billy Malone, actually, while we’re at it. Like, in Oliver’s head it probably sounds like this: ‘if you weren’t so fucking monstrous and a murderer, Malone would still be alive’.)

The crux of the question seems to be the clash (a push and pull) between the love and compassion he is capable of, all the good parts of him, moral parts (and judgments); and the violence he knows he is capable of. (and righteousness, the satisfaction he felt while enacting that violence.**). 

He probably thinks that this ‘truth’ Adrian ‘showed’ him/led him to, is something he’s “known” all along, but just been too much of a coward to admit to himself. 

Like, suddenly that ‘unknown reason why he doesn't trust anyone’ has a logic, and a clear definition. He was afraid to face it, but now he does, and it makes perfect sense! He is the problem! He doesn’t trust himself because – the goodness (to simplify it) inside him, the part of him that feels guilt now, never let him get close to people he loved, even though he wanted to, even though he needed them. It always made him hesitate, because essentially, he was protecting everyone around him, instinctively, from what he knows to be violent and dark inside him. 

He also lied to himself and others he got involved with (John and Felicity, for starters)  about why he was doing what he was doing. That he is no better than the people he used to murder, and he even got his best friends involved 

and he forgets that his ability to feel all this guilt over this kind of thought is, essentially, what makes him so different, and sets him apart from this person he is so afraid he is. 

EDIT: i almost forgot that you asked me about how this relates to Oliver not telling Felicity about William - and I’m guessing, it’s not specifically about William. That omission was generalized as a lack of trust, and this ^^ whole thing, seems to be aimed to explain why. I think Oliver thought she would for sure explode in his hands, a conviction fueled by Barry’s ‘you broke up’ idea. And that he thought she would for sure leave him, not love him enough to forgive him? Not love him enough, essentially, because why would she? 

The feeling of being a failure for missing out on his son’s life (were it anyone else, i wouldn’t say he takes this blame too on his shoulders, because its so clearly Moira’s and Samantha’s doing for keeping him away, but this is Oliver! Of course he would) probably added to the guilt and the certainty that he wasn’t good enough for her to hang around. 

A self fulfilling prophecy, in truth, and a also a deep misunderstanding of Felicity’s character. More than the lie/omission, i find this, the reason behind it, to be Oliver’s real mistake. 

A mistake of course that is, sadly, in character, because Oliver has historically had trouble believing that the people he loves actually love him back. Which leads us back to ‘why would they’, and the reason why he thinks that, which is basically that he thinks he’s a shit person not worthy of anyone’s love. Not always, but most of the time.

It’s such a BRILLIANT manipulation really, because on someone who is like Adrian, this kind of lie wouldn't work! (Adrian killed his wife. In cold blood. he has exactly zero problems being the way he is.) 

It takes someone like Oliver for this  to work. Someone who is essentially ALL HEART. Who is kind and good and who, on a deep human level, abhors the violence that was done to him and that he has done to others, despite knowing that ‘it is a violent world and - as the world has taught him - it only responds to violence.’ It takes someone moral enough that, even while enacting murder, even while feeling that killing evil men was good, would still know it is wrong. And hate himself for it. For being capable of it, for looking at the world in the  face and thinking it is necessary. 

You can be led to think something is necessary, and still hate it. I think Oliver is an idealist, so it fits that he would hate having to lower himself to the level of nastiness the world around him responds to. (it’s so good for him that he is a mayor, actually. he can affect change, without employing ‘talents’ that came to him though pain and loss and tragedy. skills - violence - that he probably hate using by now, at this point in his journey) 

I really hope I’m making at least some kind of sense. Im sure this is like, only a portion of what is really going on with Oliver; or an angle into it? idk… 

Personally, when I imagine Oliver’s mind, I usually think of him floating on the surface of a really deep lake. And this lake is his personality/psyche, the exploration of which has been affected by his history. Said history has been such that he has explored corners of this lake that to most people, remain obscure all their lives. This is not a good or bad thing. it chance. Some people are pushed to the extremes and learn new things about themselves. Some never have to. Oliver was pushed, and he knows the depths of this lake, the hidden caves, the scary wildlife in the dark. It’s not like he went to those depths because he wanted to - but that doesn’t matter. What he saw there, he cannot unsee, unlearn***. 

Now he is on the surface again - but he knows the geography of himself. Most people whose feet dont touch the soil think the depth goes a couple of feet more. Oliver knows it doesn’t. And he knows that, if necessary, he could go to those depths again, if he has to. 

I mean, people rarely know what they’re capable of in extreme situations. Most people think choices made in these kinds of cases reveal you. And Oliver thinks those choices revealed a killer. And despite how balmy the surface waters are, he knows that down there it’s ugly so, he puts up these limits. You get to swim up to here where its safe, but not further out. Even if you want to. Felicity totally wanted to know all about him, but Oliver thought, wow no. Down there its ugly and gross and if she sees that, she will not just leave. She will also hate me. And to Oliver, being someone who feeds so much on the opinions of the people he loves - that  is basically his worst nightmare. I swear some of his most radical actions have been because he was so resistant to someone he cares about thinking badly of him. 

Anyways, this got ridiculously long. 

* the next time anyone tells me Arrow is good representation for someone with PTSD and mental illness, I’m gonna fucking FIGHT that person, because this is prime example of these asshole writers mystifying this illness. Why, you might ask. Because Oliver’s trust issues can directly and unequivocally be traced to his trauma. Its not that hard. it is not a mystery and treating it as such, and making everyone around him ignorant of this simple fact, demonizes (so to speak) his condition, instead of ‘representing’ it in any positive way. 

At this point Oliver’s isolation is beyond logic - or suspense of logic. As of right now there are two soldiers, two geniuses and a cop on his team! it makes them all into either idiots, or nasty, cause they have either trained to expect this (Dinah, as a cop, i imagine knows what PTSD is) or been through it (John, Rene) or are fucking geniuses who can fucking google (Felicity, Curtis). By now even nonexistent baby Sara would be able to understand the reasons behind Oliver’s patterns of behavior. It is not rocket science AND EVEN IF IT WAS - FUCKING GENIUSES IN THE HOUSE???!!!

I’m just so tired of Oliver’s trauma and violent re-traumatization being used (exploited) and some ‘so hard to understand’ baffling plot point, instead of being dealt with.

** I dont think Oliver ever stopped to consider that his life during those five years was hell, and that that means a lot of things. It means that it was out of control for a long time. that he was prey for a long time. and that it is absolutely normal to feel a sort of satisfaction when you are not the prey anymore. and that its normal to feel good when you ‘replace evil with death’ like he did in season 1. and that plenty of veterans would be able to tell him that soldiers hate war and t lohe ve war too, and that this is what happens when you live in this… almost liminal violent reality for so long. we are human and we adapt to whatever we have to, to survive. 

***I actually think this is what’s happening with Felicity too, only instead of a lake, with Felicity I imagine a road. Like those that stretch through the desert. She only sees this one road and she is so sure that she has to walk it, because it feels righteous to her. Necessary. 

Oliver and John though, they know where that road leads. They know that the choices she will make along the  way that will feel necessary - that they may even BE necessary - but she may eventually regret making them. Because this extreme, ruthless clarity she’s living, and which they have lived, pushes away all reasons why some things are wrong, but those reasons, John and Oliver know, eventually (if you’re lucky) will come back. And the  choices made during that time might give Felicity insight into things she is capable of that she is probably going to hate. And hate herself for making them. 

And they’re just trying to warn her that this road she is walking on is literally the middle of nowhere. That there are no stop signs to tell her when she’s gone too far and that she will know only when she is too deep in it, and she will hate herself for it, just like they hate themselves for some of the things they  have done, that they wish they  never had to do. 

I’m going with this interpretation, instead of the weirdly sexist-vibe of ‘you’re too pure to be fucking human’ angle.