#(and its still heavily inspired by warriors) | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

quillthrillswriting · 8 months ago

Text

sooo.... anyone else ever wondered how different ATLA would have been if aang had been frozen at age 16 instead of age 12?

yeah... me too 😌 my new fanfic "the teenager in the iceberg" follows the events of the show, but with only aang aged up, while everyone else remains their canon age.

also...cmon....how funny is it to switch zuko and aang's iconic dialogue to "you're just a teenager!" "...so are you?"

this idea was originally inspired by the talented @allgremlinart's aged up aang drawings, so please go show them some love!!:)<3

enjoy the excerpts from chapters one and two!

⁎⁺˳ ✧༚ ˎˊ˗ ♡ ˗ˏˋയ ✩

Aang chuckled, pushing himself up with his hands on his knees. He was… taller than Katara had realised, taller than Sokka. He rubbed a hand on the back of his neck, turning to look over his shoulder at the remains of the boulder-sized chunk of ice he had just been blasted out of. “Aang. My name’s Aang.” He hesitated, momentarily seeming to puzzle something over. “And honestly? No clue. Don’t remember how me and…Appa!” He yelped, suddenly scrambling back over the hill of ice and snow. Katara followed him without thinking, and Sokka, grumbling under his breath, followed moments later.

⁎⁺˳ ✧༚ ˎˊ˗ ♡ ˗ˏˋയ ✩

“So, you’ve brought a monster to invade the village, then? You’re some incognito Fire Nation soldier sent in as an undercover scout? Well, I’ll have you know that I’m the village’s strongest warrior, a-”

“The only warrior,” Katara chimed in, lightly elbowing Sokka’s side, earning herself a responding glare.

“The strongest warrior.” Sokka reiterated. “And I don’t much like firebenders.” He added the words pointedly.

“Ah.” Aang titled his head. “That’s a shame. Some of my closest friends are Fire Nation.”

“Of course they are,” Sokka glared, hunching over into a defensive position and adjusting his fishing spear until it pointed directly at Aang.

⁎⁺˳ ✧༚ ˎˊ˗ ♡ ˗ˏˋയ ✩

Katara still wasn’t quite sure what to make of Aang. The Water Tribe boys had always been all flashy muscles, seal-jerky breath, and overconfidence, so Katara had never seen someone move, carry themself, the way Aang did.

⁎⁺˳ ✧༚ ˎˊ˗ ♡ ˗ˏˋയ ✩

Katara had admittedly forgotten how much fun penguin sledding was. “Spirits, I haven’t done this since I was a kid!” she called to Aang as he raced past her, surprisingly skilled considering that he’d never even seen a penguin until half an hour before.

“You still are a kid!” He called back over his shoulder. “A kid who’s losing this race, badly !”

Katara’s competitive streak reared its head, her eyes narrowing as Aang stuck out his tongue. She sat up slightly, no longer gripping the penguin’s fur as tightly. “You wish!” She shouted back the words as she raised her hands, breathing deeply. Her hands moved through the positions she had practised from the few bending scrolls the tribe still held on to, and before Aang knew it, the snow in front of Katara turned to ice, and she shot past him as his own ice trail suddenly became dry snow with too much friction to slide on.

She made it to the bottom of the hill, beaming, breathing heavily. The wind had whipped her hair out of her bun, and she knew without checking that her hair must have looked like a lion-turtle’s mane. She watched as Aang made a show of drying himself off with a gust of wind that he then redirected at her, messing up her curls even more.

“You’re a cheater !” Aang gasped, mockingly clutching imaginary pearls at his throat. “I demand a rematch.”

Katara strode past him, only turning her head to cast him a smug smirk. “Maybe you’re just not as good of a penguin sledder as you thought .”

“Oh, not so fast!” Aang grabbed her wrist, tugging her back towards him, and she internally questioned why the momentary brush of their skin made her heart flip. He tried to trip her, she tried to flip him, and they both ended up on their backs in the snow, giggling, cheeks and noses bright pink from the cold.

⁎⁺˳ ✧༚ ˎˊ˗ ♡ ˗ˏˋയ ✩

“Trouble sleeping too, huh?” Aang cocked a grin, tilting his head to Katara. She kept her eyes fixed upwards, trained on the moon and the stars, worried that if she looked away, she’d end up staring into his eyes like a weirdo.

“I always feel so awake with the moon’s light on me. Sleeping under the stars has never really been a thing that works. It’s too energising, too… too much. It’s hard to explain.”

“No, no… I get it. I feel the same way in a windstorm, all those breezes and gusts of wind, it feels… exhilarating.” She watched through her peripheral vision as he looked up at the moon. “In times of war, I think we all tend to forget how spiritual bending is at its core. I’d say it’s a good thing that you’re in touch enough with the origins of your abilities to feel the moon’s pull tug at you just as much as it does on the ocean.”

⁎⁺˳ ✧༚ ˎˊ˗ ♡ ˗ˏˋയ ✩

Aang smiled back. “Now is our time to try to make up for that. I can’t bring back everyone who was hurt in this war, and you can’t bring back your mother, but together, the two-, three of us can make sure it doesn’t happen to anyone else.”

“I’d like that,” Katara exhaled, her breath calming down and tears dissipating. The two spent hours talking back and forth, exchanging the stories of their respective childhoods. Katara learned that Aang had invented several new bending moves and had been a big fan of fruit pies, while Aang learned that Katara had always been the bossier one between her and Sokka and that she had almost chipped a tooth on seal jerky when she was six. They continued talking back and forth in increasingly hushed tones until the world faded away under the cover of clouds and sleep.

Katara awoke to the loud shout of her brother.

“Wakey wakey, lovebirds!” he yelped, chucking a rock-hard stick of seal jerky at both of them.

“Ouch, Sokka !” Katara snapped at him, rubbing her head at the spot where she had been hit, before realising that she was leaning against Aang and immediately jumping away, blushing furiously.

�� check out the two chapters of this (ongoing) fic & my ao3 here! ->

168 notes · View notes

protagaster · 2 months ago

Text

Hello, all! My hyper-fixation and maladaptive daydreaming scenarios are currently centering around the fantastic EPIC! the Musical, created by the amazing Jorge Rivera-Herrans!

However, because I have a female main character bias, I tend to imagine the songs as if they were sung by my current best girl: Penelope.

Thankfully, two artists went ahead and drew this into reality: @vioofc and @too-much-flynnolium. Inspired by their works of perfection, I have gone and wrote the first of many vignettes based around this Warrior Penelope AU!

There is also a version on Ao3, if you prefer that platform over Tumblr!

EDIT (10/7):

Hello all! I'm in the process of heavily editing this AU in order to have it:

A) Make more sense

B) Fit the timeline better

You'll notice some changes here and there in the story! Some of the content was cut, but don't worry! I'm gonna add it into a fic of its own in the future, so look out for that! ;)

(Credit to @w3ndytheraccoon for an excellent idea of theirs I included in this AU! You'll see it towards the end!)

A King with no Queen (EPIC! Swap AU)

Odysseus is trying to cope with many things.

His failure forced his beloved Penelope to fight the Trojan war in his stead, leaving behind all she ever knew and what she thought herself to be. In turn, the King was left to run his kingdom and raise their daughter all by himself.

This is how things have been for the past 12 years. And now, to make things even harder, the first of his suitors have made themselves at home in his palace…

Odysseus is a rare kind of man.

In fact, it was not uncommon for the King of Ithaca to be compared to a single drachma coin. There seemed to be two completely opposing sides driving him:

On one end, Odysseus was the alluring, cunning, quick-witted man that achieved many impressive feats throughout his life.

He was deemed ready and crowned King of Ithaca at the young age of 13, despite his father being very much alive. He passed her challenge and was gifted the guidance of the Goddess of Wisdom herself, something he very much boasted to all who would listen.

He even fell in love with a Princess of Sparta!

And, despite the warnings of those closest to him, she too fell in love and accepted his hand, regardless of how small and lacking his humble Ithaca was compared to the grandiose and luxurious Spartan kingdom.

Yes, despite being relatively smaller and having considerably less strength when compared to his fellow Greek man, Odysseus was a warrior with an arguably more valuable and sought after prowess: a warrior of the mind.

So why, even with these innate talents and gifts of intellect, was it not enough to keep him from harm during that first year of war?

Why was it not enough to keep her, the only person whose life he desired more than his own, to have to pay for his hubris?

That was where the other side of Odysseus’ drachma came into view, a side of despair. A side of longing. A side that waited…

“Your Majesty…”

Eurylochus waited for a moment, staring at the king from the double-doors of his bedchamber balcony.

…

Nothing.

“Odysseus…” Eurylochus tried again, if not for a response then hoping for at least some form of acknowledgment.

…

Still nothing.

Eurylochus was unsure of what to do.

It was far too early for his liking; the sun was still in the oceans’ embrace, the sky a dark indigo with only a few streams of orange light penetrating its serenity.

The day was only just beginning. Any other morning Eurylochus would most likely still be asleep, albeit prepared to wake once the early light illuminated his dark and lonely bedroom.

However, this day was not like any other.

And so, with great reluctance for more than one reason, Eurylochus woke early to fetch his king. One of his best friends. His brother.

And this made him nervous.

Not to wake the other, mind, as Odysseus always woke within the first instances of Helios’ light.

No, Eurylochus was nervous because of what the day represented.

And so, in an act that could have been either futile avoidance, petty rebellion, or a sad mix of both, Eurylochus allowed his brother to have this one moment of disassociation.

Meanwhile, on the other end of the balcony, Odysseus continued to sit peacefully in his kline. He had chosen not to respond to the call of his name, despite knowing the urgency behind Eurylochus’ visit.

Instead, Odysseus chose to stay true to his personal morning ritual: sitting in silence with morning’s first light.

He had honored this custom for more than a decade; he did not want today to be the one time he disturbed his routine, nor did he want to leave the comfort the balcony’s kline brought him.

Every morning he sat in silence, waiting. Every morning he sat in his designated seat, the left side of the kline, soothed by what it represented.

After all, it was Penelope’s very first contribution when brought to her new home.

Odysseus remembered when the young couple had picked out the kline upon their first week of engagement, with Penelope first to declare that the right side belonged to her. Odysseus remembered laughing, saying that it made sense "considering she is always right".

The kline was placed on the left side, on the farthest corner of their bedroom balcony. In this place the loveseat had a perfect view, with Ithaca’s beaches on one side and the villages of the common folk on the other. Penelope always loved this spot, for if she wanted she could see the sky kiss the ocean and embrace the beaches from above, or the hustle and bustle of her people, satisfied and content with their lives, down below.

At first Odysseus did not understand why Penelope would subject herself to wake so early in the morning simply to gaze upon the rising sun. Now, only after she had been forcefully sent away, did he understand how something as simple as the day’s first light could bring an instance of happiness to an otherwise age of despair.

And thus led to his daily ritual, one he has promised never interrupted no matter what.

Every sunrise for the past 12 years, starting from the moment he woke, the King of Ithaca would spend a few minutes staring at the various views outside his bedroom balcony; it was never too long, but the minutes always lingered with a heavy sense of despair and longing.

...

How long has it been, Odysseus couldn’t help but wonder, since he last saw his wife lounging in their kline. When was the last time she beckoned him to join her with a wave of her delicate hand, appreciating the open air whilst the kingdom was in a state of silent calm and peace.

Too long, Odysseus concluded to himself.

“Ody…”

Odysseus flinched, knowing the other only called him by that name when all other options failed.

Finally turning to acknowledge his visitor, Odysseus saw Eurylochus leaning against the door frame. His best friend, his brother, was watching him with a sad look in his eyes.

“It’s been 3 years,” Eurylochus' voice was sad, betraying the attempt of stoicism in his eyes. “They aren’t coming back-”

“You don’t know that.” Odysseus yelled out sternly. Unfortunately, he immediately regretted it when he saw Eurylochus let out a heavy sigh with his shoulders slumping in unison.

“Eury… I-I’m sorry-”

“It’s okay, Ody,” Eurylochus said with a smile that was not at all genuine. “I know.”

Odysseus wanted to kick himself. After all, he and Eurylochus were stuck in the same horrible situation.

Both men waited, longing for someone that was no longer by their side. Both men woke alone inside their isolated, dark, empty bedchambers, at one point naively unaware of how large a bed could be until that fateful day 12 years ago.

Both men waited, longing for the return of their wives: Queen Penelope of Ithaca and her best friend and second in command, Princess Ctimene.

It had been 13 years since the Trojan war officially began, a petty debate between the Gods leading to Helen’s abduction. Menelaus and Agamemnon drafted Helen’s suitors to help in her rescue, using Odysseus’ proposed oath to defend her husband against those who would dare to challenge him.

Odysseus had tried to avoid this draft through various means, but each attempt ended unsuccessfully. He was required to fight in this war, forced to take with him only the best of his Ithacan warriors. He remembered his tearful goodbyes to Penelope and Telemachas, filled to the brim with sorrow at having to leave his beautiful wife and newly-born daughter.

From then on, since he first set foot on Trojan soil and every subsequent battle thereafter, Odysseus would pray to the Gods to find a way to end his term in the war. Anything to return back to Ithaca as quickly as possible.

The Gods were quick to grant his wish.

That first year of war no one could have expected things to turn out as they did.

The men had secretly infiltrated the Palace of Troy using various spies, successfully sneaking Helen out and tucking her aboard the first ship back to Greece. Unfortunately, the Trojans were quick to discover her disappearance.

The Trojans took their revenge the next night. The Greek army, beyond ecstatic that their primary goal had been achieved, went to sleep that night with their bellies filled with meat and cups poured with more wine than water.

None of them noticed the dead quiet of the nature surrounding them.

The Trojans, with their own spies implanted in the Greek army, had found their hidden camps. Before the men of Greece realized it, they were too late. They were struck without mercy, the etiquettes of war no longer a priority.

The Greeks, despite their night of festivities, put up one hell of a fight. The battle took hours, lasting from the darkness of night up until the early crack of dawn.

The Trojans quickly retreated once early light hit. However, the damage was done.

In the struggle Menelaus and his closest brothers-in-arms were taken prisoner, held as a form of ransom. Odysseus was the only one in Menelaus' circle to avoid this capture, for Eurylochus and the rest of his Ithacan crew refused to allow the Trojans the glory of kidnapping their king whilst under their watch.

Though there were few deaths, the Greek men were maimed and damaged beyond repair.

The lucky ones had escaped the confrontation with more scars and wounds littering their bodies, though they were the ones likely to return to combat after a short time of recovery. The unlucky ones, the majority of the men, had been struck deep in the flesh. Their injuries sustained left no meager scars or wounds, but permanent physical hindrances to their limbs and muscles.

Odysseus was speared in his left shoulder. Though the gash had closed and relatively faded 12 years later, he could no longer maneuver his arm as easily as before. Without his weekly massages and leather brace, which he wore only when surrounded by those he trusted, he couldn’t even wield his bow as effortlessly as he once did.

Eurylochus was sliced in his left eye, leaving him permanently blind from that view. He had also been struck in his leg, though it was not as severe as his previous injury and had already come to a full recovery.

Regardless, the state of the current Greek army was too grave to ignore.

A few handfuls of the men, those deemed fit and well enough to continue combat, were left behind to hold down the front lines. The rest, consisting of practically their entire army, were sent back home to recover and sustain what little dignity they still had.

Though he had been permanently damaged, Odysseus couldn’t help but see a small silver lining. Even if it wasn’t how he expected, the Gods had granted his wish. Now, he was able to stay by Penelope’s side and raise their daughter together.

If only he had known then what he knew now.

Even though the men could no longer partake in battle, Greece still needed an army. And of course, for the sake of their own petty interests, this is when the Gods intervened.

Almost immediately after he had returned home, the God of War himself stood before them with his signature spear in hand. However, he was not there to speak with the King.

He was there to make a demand of the Queen.

Ares ordered his student, Penelope, and her unofficial sisters-in-arms, women trained in combat with the blessings of the God of War and Goddess of the Hunt, to fight in the war against Troy on his behalf. All of this was to “make up” with Hera, after first siding with the Trojans on Aphrodite’s request.

Odysseus remembered how he pleaded, begging to return to the battlefield in his wife’s place. Pride and flesh be damned!

Odysseus knew what Penelope’s life would look like in Troy, having experienced it himself for the past year. Even if she had sufficient knowledge in the art of combat, trained by her life as a Spartan and student of Ares, she was still a traditional woman who enjoyed traditional womanly activities. Fighting and killing in the name of the Gods as a woman had never been heard of before that point!

And then there was Telemachas, their beautiful baby girl who was only a single year old. What would her life look like, growing up without her mother to guide her through the trials of womanhood?

Unfortunately no amount of begging and pleading, nor the King’s friendship with Athena, could spare his wife of her mentor’s decree; neither could it spare the many other women trained in the art of defense.

Within the next two month a portion of Ithaca’s women, those of age and combat experience, boarded the ships to war.

The next 12 years consisted of a mixed flurry of emotions.

Of those 12 years it took 9 before the war came to an end. Helen, once nothing more than a damsel in distress, proved her strength to everyone with her contribution to the war. After rescuing Menelaus and the other captive men, the royalty of Troy were killed off to the last drop of blood. Rumors circulated within the Greek world that Penelope had a great hand to play in their victory, but the specificities were never clarified.

Eurylochus, along with the people of Ithaca, recalled the look of pure joy in their King’s eyes when the messenger gave them the news. Many thought their King’s happiness was due to his wife’s battle prowess being praised by all who could speak, but those closest to Odysseus knew the truth.

Odysseus was ecstatic that his wife was finally coming home.

Penelope would once again be inside his arms! Her warmth, her voice, her scent, they all would no longer be reduced to a distant memory. The people of Ithaca would once again have their Queen, and Telemachas could finally meet and learn from the mother she had heard so many wonderful stories about.

That’s how things should have been by now. And yet, 3 years after the war’s end, the wives and daughters of Ithaca had still not returned.

Many held out hope in the beginning, thinking that the womens’ delay was only a momentary setback. They believed it would not be much longer, that the women would return any day now.

However, days turned into months. And those months quickly became years.

With their hope dying alongside their wives and now presumed to now be widowers, the husbands and fathers of Ithaca reacted in very different ways. Many remarried, desperate to once again have their homes filled with the comfort of a wife and care of a mother. The rest could not bear the thought of remarriage, taking up vows of celibacy in honor of their fallen wives and praying to the Gods that their love alone would be good enough for their children.

The one thing they all had in common: they had lost hope of their wives ever returning to Ithaca.

This was where Odysseus differed from them all.

His people, Eurylochus, and now even Polites had tried telling him how likely it was that Penelope perished at sea. They reminded him that as the King of Ithaca it was his duty to find a new Queen. The kingdom needed a female role model alongside the male, to help him rule and lead their kingdom to prosperity. This was the standard procedure for royalty in Greece.

But Odysseus was never one to follow the standard procedure.

“Some of our… visitors… are making themselves at home in the throne room.” Eurylochus finally broke the silence once again, reminding Odysseus of the very thing he was trying to disassociate from. “They’re asking when you’ll go to see them.”

Odysseus couldn’t mask his frustration.

3 years. That’s all those selfish dogs had given him to “mourn” for the love of his life, for the mother Telemachas never had the chance to know.

And now that the 3 years were up, they expected him to move on just like that.

“Already?” Odysseus commented as he rose from his left seat, almost feeling impressed with the desperation of his so-called guests. “Helios hasn’t even finished placing the sun in its morning spot.”

“C’mon, you and I know human nature better than anyone.” Eurylochus scoffed, having to turn his head to get a proper view of the palace yards beginning to pack with various women and their guards. “Who would ever resist the chance to obtain more power?”

Odysseus let out a scoff of his own as he walked back inside his bedchamber, practically identical to Eurylochus’. Though his expression was quick to change into one of concern.

“What of Telemachas!? Is she-”

“She’s still sleeping. I went to check on her before coming to get you.” Eurylochus answered calmly to Odysseus’ growing anxiety. “I knew you’d ask, so I figured I’d get it out of the way.”

Odysseus let out a sigh of relief. Eurylochus was one of the very few people he trusted with the keys to his palace, which meant he was one of the only few with the ability to open the doors of the royal bedchambers.

If Telemachas was still asleep, then that meant she would be spared of the wrath and judgments of the “guests” below. For now.

He would have to check in on her later, for both their sakes.

Meanwhile, for the sake of maintaining peace, Odysseus had a duty to greet his guests and show them hospitality. Even if he didn't want to.

And he really, really didn't want to.

Odysseus, now wearing his royal chiton and elegant gold crown, walked down the halls of his palace with his head held high. Eurylochus walked by his side, hand strategically placed near the handle of his broadsword, ready to protect his King from strangers with ill intent.

It did not take long to make their way to the palace throne room. Given how small Ithaca was as a kingdom, it made sense for the royal palace to look smaller in comparison to neighboring palaces.

However, even with the relatively small structure, both men shouldn’t have been able to hear commotion within the throne room from 4 halls ahead. This was an immediate indication to Odysseus of how many women were already vying for his kingdom.

Once the two men stood close enough to the throne room’s closed doors they were able to hear the muffled voices from before much more clearly.

“What’s the hold up!?”

“We’ve been waiting for hours!”

“Why can’t we find the King ourselves?!”

They all sounded feminine. And very annoyed.

“Ladies, please!” A man's voice, Polites’, called out from the other side of the doors. “The King will arrive in just a moment! So, in the meantime, why don’t we all conduct ourselves in a polite, orderly fashion?”

A chorus of exasperated groans; if there were any words spoken then they were undecipherable due to the sheer loudness of the crowd.

Odysseus saw Eurylochus toss him a look, one that had “I told you so” written all over it.

Nevertheless Odysseus let out a deep breath, praying to the Gods above that he looked much more confident than he felt. With a nod to the other, Eurylochus made his way to the double doors of the throne room.

He threw the doors open, attracting the attention of every guest within the throne room. Welcome or otherwise.

Eurylochus’ booming voice could be heard from every corner of the large room:

“Presenting His Majesty, Odysseus, King of Ithaca!”

Everyone within the throne room, friend, suitor, or guard, either kneeled or bowed at the sight of the luminous King of Ithaca.

Odysseus paid them no mind. He opted to stare straight ahead, looking at nothing in particular. He sat on the left throne, despite royal customs declaring he sit on the right. The right seat belonged to Penelope and Penelope only.

He would make sure every suitor in his palace remembered this.

Meanwhile on the opposite side of the room, while Odysseus prepared to address the crowd, Polites was slowly inching his way to Eurylochus’ side. Eurylochus did not notice the younger approaching him, only realizing when Polites had placed a hand on his shoulder.

Polites gestured to the third member of their friend group, mouthing a silent “Is he okay?”.

Eurylochus blanked, unsure of how he should answer, before opting to shrug his shoulders; Not necessarily disagreeing but not entirely agreeing either.

Polites understood. Odysseus was somehow both managing and not.

Polites couldn’t help but grow somber. He could sympathize, but never fully understand. He will never fully understand the pain his best friends shared when it came to the misfortune caused to them by the Trojan war.

Polites was one of the lucky few spared of permanent injury on that fateful battle 13 years ago. Any wounds and scars he attained had long since faded, their only proof of existence reduced to mere memory. Meanwhile, Odysseus and Eurylochus had sustained injuries that would affect them for the rest of their lives.

Odysseus and Eurylochus were also victims to the whims of the Gods, for the divine ordered their wives to war in their stead. How must it feel, to know the love of your life was forced to act as your replacement simply because you allowed yourself to be moved by premature pride?

Even though it was painful to Eurylochus, Polities knew it was pure agony to Odysseus. He had lost both his younger sister and wife due to a rash victory party…

Odysseus suddenly shot his best friends a look, silently indicating to them that he was ready for his speech.

Polites and Euylochus stood straight and gave him their undivided attention. They were ready to lend him their support, regardless of the difficult decision he made.

“Greetings, my friends.”

Odysseus took mental note of the amount of women littering his throne room. 32 in total, so far.

“I am delighted to see so many new, cordial faces in our humble kingdom on this day,”

The suitors weren’t stupid. They all knew Odysseus did not mean a word of what he was saying. He was just spouting flowery nonsense for the sake of appearances.

However, it mattered not what he felt. All that mattered was his submission to the expectations of Greek royalty.

That included his remarriage.

“Now, let’s not beat around the bush.” Odysseus gave everyone an easy, nonchalant smile. “You all want to know who I will take as my new Queen.”

That threw everyone for a loop.

Those who knew Odysseus, his guards, servants, and slaves, were surprised at how readily he addressed the issue he tried so desperately to avoid.

The suitors, along with their guards, were also shocked that he was willing to address the issue without hesitation. Were the rumors about him and his loyalty to his wife all false?

Polites and Eurylochus, who had known Odysseus for practically their entire lives, couldn’t help but feel a semblance of worry with his words. Odysseus was not one to just give up so easily, especially in matters concerning his heart.

Just what was he planning?

Odysseus, for his part, did not betray a single one of his thoughts with that easy smile of his. He stood still, waiting for the commotion to cease, before once again speaking to the crowd.

Polites and Eurylochus, along with one mysterious suitor, were the only ones to notice the mischievous glint in the King’s eyes.

“However, in respect of honoring the deceased, I regret to inform you all that I can no longer discuss the matter anytime soon.”

“WHAT!?”

A chorus of angry voices were quick to make themselves known at the end of his declaration. Two or four voices quickly became 31, each one demanding to know why he couldn’t choose a new wife right then and there.

Again only one of them was silent, leaning against the side of the wall with her arms crossed. She watched the King with an intense stare.

Odysseus raised a single hand, prompting the angry voices to silence themselves.

“As I was saying…” The King’s smile dropped, replaced with an expression of stoicism. “I plan to honor and respect my wife in death as I did in life. And so, in her memory, I will carve a wooden statue in the form of the late Queen. This will be done carefully and with precision, achieved by my hands and my hands only.”

Another chorus of annoyed and angered groans sounded from the women. They all knew it was bound to take a long time before the statue was even close to completed.

Eurylochus and Polities were a mixed bag of reactions, one impressed with the cunning of his friend and the other filled to the brim with worry. They both knew Odysseus was talented in the art of carving; As a symbol of his long-standing love to Penelope, he had made her a bridal bed from the inside of a long-lasting tree. However, that was before his injury to his arm. How long would it take, to carve out a wooden statue that could rightfully honor the beauty and grace of Penelope of Ithaca, all with a bad shoulder, a kingdom to run, and a child to raise?

It was the perfect plan.

Odysseus had been scheming ever since he heard talk of his “inevitable” remarriage. The king knew he had to delay choosing a new wife, if not for his fidelity and loyalty to Penelope then for the sake of his daughter.

Who knows what would happen to her if he remarries, for what Queen would allow the daughter of her predecessor to take the throne?

No, he needed to be smart and tactical about this. He needed to use the gifts of quick-thinking and feeling calm under pressure bestowed to him by Athena. Telemachas was already 13, well on her way to 14. All he had to do was keep his suitors at bay for a few more years, until the Princess was deemed ready to be Queen. Then Telemachas would be allowed to ascend to the throne without any complaints from his adversaries.

This statue was the perfect excuse. He will spend as much time as he needed carving it, forever if he had to.

He could do this. He will find a way. For himself. For Telemachas. For Penelope.

Odysseus was so caught up in his thoughts he didn’t notice how one of his suitors was looking at him. She stared at him quietly, intensely, glaring at him from the moment he walked into the throne room.

She couldn’t look away from his body. His tanned, toned, delicious body. She noticed the way Odysseus’ chiton stuck to his waist, showing off his firm, fit figure.

When he lifted his hand to silence the crowd, the fabric of his clothing was forced to rise up; his naked body, only briefly displayed, was shown to anyone standing at a certain angle. She was the one lucky enough to stand at this angle.

She could see his torso from where she stood. She saw his v-line fade into his abdomen, some single stray beads of sweat drip down in that path. She saw a set of prominent abs, mild but still very much there, that shuddered with each breath he took. And finally, before he lowered his arm and his torso was covered once more, she was able to see his pectorals in full view. They were flat, but still round; oh, what must it feel like to take a bite of that flesh, to watch as the man underneath was fully marked and claimed?

There was no doubt about it. He was beautiful. He was perfect.

He was hers.

Based on what he just declared, accompanied by rumors circulating the palace, it appeared that he planned to make his remarriage a difficult process for his suitors.

That was fine.

She can be patient.

No matter how long it took she’d find a way to force him to accept her, even if she had to hold him down and take him by force.

After all, she was blessed by Zeus himself. Though not his child, and by definition having no divine blood, one would be forgiven for assuming differently based on her ability to look forever young despite her age. The King of Gods gave her this gift, saying he knew her to be a kindred spirit.

The point was anything and everything she ever wanted would belong to her.

Ithaca.

The Right Throne.

Odysseus.

No matter what it took, no matter what she had to do, one day all of it will bear her name.

Calypso.

#epic the musical #the odyssey #swap au #warrior!penelope #telemachus is a girl #odysseus #eurylochus #polites #calypso #penelope (mentioned)#odysseus x penelope #tw: implied future rape #canon divergent au #canon rewrite #canon compliant #my fic

71 notes · View notes

kit-williams · 2 months ago

Text

Modern!Space Marine AU

Blame @pluvio-tea because I've been reading her interpretations of what Titus and the gang would be doing in the modern day and I got enough people encouraging me... so...

@bispecsual @egrets-not-regrets @moodymisty @bleedingichorhearts @liar-anubiass-blog

@thevoidscreams @barn-anon @gallifreyianrosearkytiorsusan @squishyowl @ms--lobotomy

@nekotaetae @sleepyfan-blog @remembrancer-of-heresy @felinisnoctis @solspina

@the-californicationist

lets begin

Note: a lot of them will be ex military though in honesty you could make them all ex military just if I mention they are ex military its more so they are a recent ex military

The Dark Angel; Azazel: In a modern setting I see him as still being active military but now behind a desk and more so working for the Intelligence community and interrogations but he tells people that he still does work as a military therapist which isn't exactly a lie. The excitable young woman that works with him is a nice distraction...

The Emperor's Children; Palion: Is a Tailor and a Costume Designer he loves to make fancy outfits that glitter in the light and is inspired by a tragic Muse...

The Iron Warrior; Harram: Military Contractor (still very much as a Dad bod in this universe) with a focus on construction so like infrastructure and building. He's recently moved and there is a nice widow right new door...

The White Scar; Nogai: Racing (he's a white scar) with a focus on motocross on both bikes and ATVs. However he also likes to do rally races with his navigator Honey... he may or might not enjoy the steadfast and commanding tone she takes when she’s in the co-driver seat and in the zone as they race a little too much...

The Space Wolf; Arkyn: Another Ex military (given that he was a captain) so at the moment he is learning how to transition back to being a civvie but he's recently learned he enjoys helping at the local wildlife rehabilitation center. The other retired military woman who works there helps sooth his wild soul...

The Imperial Fist; Astel: Black market Doctor and Chemist operating without a license. He makes house calls and is good for what he does but sometimes he likes to take on cases "out of the goodness of his heart" for way less money... such cute little mouse for him to work on...

The Night Lords; Ghosk: Actor but not just any actor he is a monster actor; aka the guy who is in full prosthetics moving like a cryptid even if he's under like 20 pounds of makeup and props and prosthetics. When he's not assigned to a movie role he likes to be a scare actor at one of those parks where he can touch the attendants... he likes watching the rabbits run...

Anrir: he is in the nitty gritty and dirty business of Organ Transplants like proper handling (just don't ask where he got those 30 kidneys)

The Blood Angel; Sirus: He is someone's Art muse. He get's so much money and time to make his pottery. He also is good at making memorial pieces like incorporating human ashes into a piece... that's because for his grand pieces he's already doing that. Sirus is also a Serial Killer with a pinch of cannibalism, he incorporates blood into the hues... human ash mixes nicely with his clay. He's hoping to ask his Moonlight muse for a photoshoot soon...

The Iron Hand; Marlos Vauth: Software Engineer. He focuses on programming for prosthetics but he's been moonlighting as a hacker as well and getting rather good at it. He's been bothering the IT girl recently...

The World Eater; Zul: Retired. He heavily insists that he is retired but he's still jacked and simply says he made smart investments so his money makes money. But how can he be retired he's young (40s) and scarred to hell and back. But he will get aggressive if you keep asking questions. He can often be found with a sickly young woman on his arm too...

The Ultramarine; Tulio: He is a high salaried investor who could retire if he wanted but he just hasn't done so yet... He has to make sure that the new girl is going to be fine...

The Death Guard; Solos: Unemployed. He is the guy in town who you never see at the same job twice and never for very long, yet he somehow has money all the time. His spats with his lady are legendary as they seem to break up and get back together all the time, even if she could do so much better than Solos, but people who intervene with his love life have a habit of going "missing" and Solos always has an alibi...

The Thousand Son; Nakht: He is a professor that deals with historical documentation as well as document repair. Though a few people have noticed that a lot of what he deals with is occult materials given how his main field of study has nothing to do at all with esoteric occultism...

The Black Legion; Zhur: Professional Dom... he's got his eyes on a particular client but he's got to pay the bills and his baritone voice can easily get anyone to obey him.

The Word Bearer; Jihias: Preacher (is anyone surprised?) well in fact the Preacher bit is a ruse as he is in fact a full blown cult leader. Such passion and fervor his preaching tend to be but if you think more and more of what he says... and by the time you realize the grotesque nature of his preaches get it's far too late... the shepherd loves you and wont ever abandon you...

The Salamander; Nubin: Master Blacksmith. Run's his own shop and also does free classes for the high school when they cut their shop classes so he just offered free courses and is trying to get some deal for the time spent in the shop to count towards credit hours.

The Raven Guards; Sor, Kazi, and Moremo: Private security guards though they have come under scrutiny for getting rather close to their latest client

The Alpha Legion; Omegon: Lawyer and a damn good one as some people say he hires professional investigators to look over a scene again he's never really lost a case.

The Black Templars; Roland: Retired Military and does stuff with guns either selling them, helping people train with them, also runs a Youtube Channel with Backerin called "Guns & Buns" which has their own niche because it will be Roland helping out with his wife's bakery/a slight vlog showing off his journey with retirement

Arnault: Retired Military turned erotica writer/author. Started writing when he was bored out of his mind during a recovery and found out he enjoys writing erotica.

The Carcharodon; Tyberos: Mafioso. (Rather he is either the head of the Carcharodons or an enforcer) but right now he's helping run a front which is a coffee shop but it's become a nice little community get together since it has decent food and good coffee and its great for people trying to sell stuff

#warhammer 40k #modern!au #yandere space marines #ocs #my ocs

71 notes · View notes

theramblergal · 3 months ago

Text

For, and, inspired heavily by @desigurlie.

Krishna knew that emotions were powerful. Too powerful, sometimes. Something so unpleasantly rooted in the body, tugging every soul further and further away from blissful, logical moksha.

Moksha was liberation from emotions. It was blissful logic, unfailing in front of all arguments save the chemistry of sentiment.

He had surrendered to its hold; he knew it was futile to fight such a battle; it could not be won.

Emotions were powerful, dangerous.

Especially so for his dearest Partha.

Arjuna had always been rather more firmly under the control of his emotions than Krishna would have liked. Everyone knew it: his Partha's emotions swirled inside him like a tempest, whether it be the highest joy or deepest sorrow.

He had adopted the stern countenance of the Preserver to impress upon Arjuna the need to distance himself from his emotions, but it was futile; to separate Partha from his emotions was to pry the living, beating heart out of him and render him no longer his Partha—just a husk of that beautiful, brilliant soul he adored beyond devotion.

And now—

Arjuna had spoken nary a word after Yudhishthira had narrated the tale of how Abhimanyu—oh Mahadeva, his little Abhimanyu, his child—had been killed.

Arjuna swayed, pale.

Krishna didn't have to touch his Partha's mind to tell the tempest that normally raged within his skin was now an earth-wrecking cyclone of grief and anger and pain trapped inside his nerves, flooding through each vessel inside his body in insidious agony.

"My son," he uttered quietly, his voice the only sound in the room.

And collapsed to the floor.

The cries of Arjuna's name faded to background noise as Krishna lunged forward on autopilot and caught him just as the archer crumpled to the ground. Krishna cradled the limp body of his best friend like he would a child, bringing Arjuna's head to rest on his lap.

Krishna pressed a shaking hand to Arjuna's neck, the other briefly ghosting over his curls, and almost sighed in relief. His pulse beat steadily, but of his mind, Krishna could not say.

His hand trembled silently as images—whether from the previous day or the next, he could not tell—flashed in his mind.

For now, Arjuna was still.

Krishna almost wished he would stay that way for a while longer, if at least to spare the raging waves of his emotions.

But there was divine blood in him. Arjuna could not lay unconscious for longer than a few minutes, by the power of the King of the Gods.

He opened his eyes, and what happened next, Krishna could describe only in increments, but it happened in a fraction of seconds.

First: the sluggish quiescence of having awakened. Then, a softening of the tension around his Partha's eyes, the ever-present love for his Madhava surfacing.

And then.

Then, the memories flooding back.

Arjuna leaped out of Krishna's arms, taking one wild look around at his brothers and the rest of the warriors, seeking confirmation that he wasn't dreaming. He went still, again.

There was not a single sound in the Pandava camp.

Krishna stared up at Arjuna, rising to his feet.

Something was lying in wait in the air. The sharp tang of ozone was in the air, waiting to be drawn out from the heavy silence.

Abhimanyu's ghost hung in the air.

Krishna reached out, wanting to stop whatever was going to happen.

A single tremor ran through Arjuna's shoulders. His voice was utterly silent as he spoke, arms winding tighter around himself as if he permitted no one to touch him. The storm within him had risen to an all-time high, scorching Arjuna's—and Krishna's—insides.

"I will kill Jayadratha tomorrow. If I do not, I will enter the fire on this very spot. Let those heavenly worlds not be mine if I do not fulfil this pledge of mine! Even if Jayadratha goes to the heavens or hell, I will slice his head off! Hear my pledge, all ye warriors!"

The loud twang of the Gandiva did nothing to calm the freezing flame set ablaze in Krishna's heart. He stared at Arjuna, watching the words settle into a pattern that wound itself around Partha's heart—the only way it would be freed was through death.

Jayadratha's.

Or his Partha's.

Krishna drew the Panchajanya with a shaking hand and blew on it. The tremors it wrought as Devadutta joined the blasting melody, a warning to all their enemies, was the only way Krishna could let his curdling horror and abject fear loose.

He cursed internally the Kuru's apparent genetic inability to go through life without swearing earth-shaking oaths.

Oh, he would support Arjuna. His mind was already racing with strategies and scenarios, laying out every possible combination of event.

He would stay awake all night to soothe his Partha's tears and take him where he needed to keep him sharp and focused for tomorrow because—

Because—

He couldn't lose his Partha.

The worlds could collapse, the seas might dry up, but as Krishna inhaled fresh lungfuls of air, trying to calm his racing heart, but he could not lose Arjuna.

Oh, you foolish, foolish man.

Krishna didn't know who that last thought was directed at: his anger at Arjuna's inability to stay out of circumstances where death hovered closer than he would like, or anger at himself for getting so attached that that blissful state of moksha seemed worlds away, so attached that his chest was wracked with grief, anger, fear and horror all at once.

He shut his eyes.

He could not lose Arjuna.

#mahabharat #mahabharata #arjuna #krishna #partha madhava <3 #ruhi writes

50 notes · View notes

solargeist · 5 months ago

Note

an angel doesn't necessarily have to be religious. typically yeah they are, but we're talking fantasy. you could make angels some sort of rare hybridization between different bird like hybrids.

though, if you WANTED to keep with the Catholic/religious theme. there was stuff written about humans and angels (or demons) having offspring. it would in the angels case result in them falling, BUT their offspring would have exaggerated features or even powers.

an angel here could be what happens if you spliced watcher/listener DNA with some other species. in skizz's case it could just be human, but you could probably make cool cases for others.

Yesss you are right, there is a story abt angels breeding with humans and creating giants, angels also taught magic and astrology to humans. (i think this is also what led to the whole flooding thing, which, boooo, let angels be freaky 2024)

I take some inspiration from Catholicism, but don't follow it exactly for Watchers. The Watchers are just that world's version of Catholicism, the people made a religion out of them, how they appear at times to guide and protect, sometimes taking people, and they're always been around. Grian grew up around Watcher religion as a child, he's got catholic guilt as an adult. (his Watcher mum--Aether, also grew up around Watcher religion)

Tho the difference--they don't have a Jesus-like figure, its just tiers of angels, the universe, that sort of thing, but who knows, maybe theres different Watcher branches amongst people as well, there are enchantment dialect differences.

Maybe Skizz just comes from a line of different enchantments, not Watcher based, but it's why he looks like that without being a hybrid. (the protestant joke rly does work here, they don't believe/pray to saints or angels or other figures beyond the main guy LOlol)

Listeners are fallen Watchers, treated much like demons, in the sense that they have to be stomped out, they'll lead humans astray.

Another difference, Watchers are infertile, so they do not breed with themselves or others, they just adopt and use enchantments to change the person, its how they continue, an endless source of Saints.

I do treat it more fantasy style, not super bible-accurate, but the lore inspiration is still heavily tied into it

Their domaines are much like convents, strict and confined.

I call them angels, but.... Watchers are "angels" in the way that they watch people, they bring information and guidance, they're skilled warriors who possess magic, but they don't serve a "God" or "Heaven", this is all of their own interest. (and also humans are cute, they can't help but interact.) Appearance wise they resemble birds, crows and owls, growing feathers and fur, claws and wings, multiple eyes on their face and "spiritually" (the floating eyes they conjure) They dress in flowing fabrics and hoods, they're very modest, but this is just most comfortable for all the feathers and wings, and allows them to blend into the dark and hide their forms. Nothing to do with the purity idea.

Bonus, they're like this meme but both at the same time

#DO I MAKE SENSE i dont know. i was trying to point out the difference between accurate angels vs watchers but they are similar #ask #ive had this meme saved for so long ADJGAJ #if i watched more of skizz's content maybe i could pull something for angel stuff but i mostly listen to the podcast/other games

55 notes · View notes

crimsonxe · 7 months ago

Text

Because I'm particularly annoyed: To everyone within the LGBT+ and ships involving them circles, get this through your goddamn head. RWBY the "little" anime-inspired web show that:

subverts sexist and homophobic tropes from that inspiration

has a deep & mature story

respects its femme characters

that has had morons saying it was baiting for years

has a married wlw couple w/ child; 2 confirmed lesbian characters; 2 mlm characters in the novels; a bi MC (VA'd by a bi femme)/a sapphic MC (VA'd by an "on the spectrum" femme)/ and together a wlw MC pair; a trans character that isn't a joke

THAT show DELIVERED one of the most normalized via being treated no different to its hetero sibling ships, being within a non-world of gay, and not being spotlighted; well-developed; well-earned; 10 year steady slowburned; and mature CANON wlw romances around. That including having a bi character that feels bi not a lesbian character w/ a bi sticker slapped on cause not only does she have guys w/ feelings towards her as well as a former male romantic partner, but also has a femme w/ feelings towards her as well as a current femme partner in a non-world of gay. The fucking cherry on top: it has Beauty and the Beast at its core mixed with yin-yang.

Get the fuck over this notion of "oh that's just RWBY" in a head-up-ones-own-ass obnoxious manner. Before it was the goddamn "well BB isn't confirmed, its just been hinted/teased" even with the show making it fucking blatantly clear it was happening, including soft-canonizing it via a character directly bringing up the mutual romantic feelings going on between the two tying it to her own ones towards the other part of the sibling hetero pair of the show. Now after its been given one of the best most beautifully done scenes in the entire show w/ a goddamn song written by an LGBT+ artist and sung by both them & another LGBT+ femme to canonize them; its STILL being treated/view like its both bait/non-canon and/or lesser than other pairs. Its especially fucking rich when I know some people who'd sing the praises of Warrior Nun and Avatrice, which is in the same goddamn vein as RWBY and BB with both being great ships and shows. If anyone tried to pull this shit with that show & that pairing, you'd get your damn ass torn apart and you know it; but RWBY isn't given that same respect. Caitvi/Violyn (Arcane) gets more damn respect and technically speaking its not even fucking canon yet, its still in the phase that either v4-7 BB was at. Where its been heavily implied & teased to the point of me going with it as soft-canon, yet not a damn soul would scoff at it being mentioned within LGBT+ ships. But once again RWBY is different.

Those that pull this shit are:

the shit-for-brains know-nothings that either want to shit on the show because of their own hoity-toity its too below us bullshit or haven't bothered to actually watch the damn show

the bigoted incel pieces of shit that just don't support LGBT+ yet infest our spaces;

the antis that don't care what was built up, they're salty bitches that just can't stand their pair didn't happen

the entitled ass LGBT+ that think all LGBT+ should be rushed, spotlighted at the center of the story, and aimed at an LGBT+ audience instead of normalized for a general audience.

So if you're going to thumb your nose at the show and its rep, then fuck you and go fuck your damn self. You're no damn better than the incels and chuds. And don't even think to reach for any LGBT+ cards cause I've got my own one. They're canon and they're great get that through your fucking heads, that little web show fucking delivered. Don't like it? Fine, I don't really care. But don't you fucking dare thumb your damn nose at it and not expect to get dragged over the damn coals by me.

#rwby #bumbleby #LGBT+ rep #LGBT+#shipping polls but also just general concept of the show

62 notes · View notes

3615rose · 8 months ago

Text

So I played the last guardian. And now I am thinking of Wild having a beast like Trico as BoTW and TotK are heavily inspired.

And how the chain would react to it :

Hyrule : at first, he would be scared shitless. But slowly, he gets to understand and even give a pat pat and a boop on the nose.

Legend : Reminds him of the dream whale thing. And he will NOT like it. But when Wild tell him the stories that he had to remove spears out of the creature, he became soft.

Four : Absolutely adore the creature. Sure it's like ten times his size, but he sees it as a challenge, making him a saddle, metal ornaments, things like that. The two bonded quickly.

Time : Has seen some shit before, it won't be a chimera style creature that will scare him. He loves to give him head rubs and play with the creature but won't say it.

Wind : Bonded quickly like Four. Love being on its back, caressing the fur/feather. May have slept against it more than once.

Twilight : Suspicious at first, then started to understand the pain the creature went through. He knows that better than anyone and do some good old trauma bonding.

Sky : It's a cat, a bird and a goat in the same time ? Sign him up. Bet he will love the creature as much as his own bird, preening it's feather with care and love.

Warriors : See the creature as a good way to have some advantage in the sky. And if the other are able to manage Wild and this creature together, then it's a win win. And he may have put his scarf around the creature neck more than once.

First : Scared too. Little less than Hyrule but still. Will offer food around to see what the creature like in hope of having some point of good attitude around it. Find some relief in his sleep when sleeping curled against it.

#linked universe #lu wild #lu legend #lu time #lu wind #lu four #lu first #lu twilight #lu wars #lu hyrule #lu sky #lu headcanons #the last guardian

63 notes · View notes

lyculuscaelus · 2 months ago

Text

Hold Him

(Inspired by this ask of my moot @jarondont; changed a little something though; an AU partially based on Epic and partially on the Odyssey)

Telemachus was just making sure the ship was fully docked when the sound of breaching came.

Slashes of metal bit through the hull as his comrades cried out in terror—fear seized them all. Telemachus quickly issued the order to take arms, while he himself picked up a spear and a handy shield, fearful uncertainty brewing in his eyes. His young companions did the same—Ctesilaus, Amphidamas, Polyalus…all twenty of his childhood friends. But they did not have the time to put on the armor when the dreadful war-cries burst out, catching all of them off guard.

“Get ready, everyone,” Telemachus warned. “Here they come.”

Twenty well-armed warriors stormed into the hollow ship, charging on board. Javelins flew across the distance, hitting the shields and decks, chewing into bands of their shields with fierce force. Ctesilaus yelled out in pain as a spear found its way to his human heart, spilling out dark blood and agony. Amphidamas blocked a blow in time and returned with a thrust of his spear, ending his opponent’s life in an instant. Telemachus raced to the crowd of fighters, his spear never relented in striking. He managed to take down five warriors before the spear in his palm was knocked off by a heavy blow, while another clash of shields sent him flying to the edge of the deck, dropping his shield in the process. Pain swarmed up in his spine as he landed heavily.

Ouch.

Where was the strength of the son of Odysseus?

It’s just like the last time. Or all the times before that. I never really stand a chance in any fight, and maybe never will.

Telemachus struggled to get up again. Before his blurry vision, warriors continued to falter. People continued to fall.

People that he called friends. People whose survival relied solely on him—

The son of Odysseus, the leader of men.

And he could only watch them fall.

Ctesilaus was lying on deck, his breath already left him; Amphidamas was no longer wielding the spear in his hand, for it had already loosen its strength; Polyalus was still holding on, protecting the injured Anticlus, as those dreadful warriors continued to press on, and press on, and…

And all Telemachus could hear, were the screams of the fallen. The screams of his friends.

They were dying, and there was nothing he could do to stop it.

How did I allow this to happen?

“Odysseïdes…”

Eurylaus let out his one last moan and crumbled.

I failed them. I failed them all. In the end, I was too incompetent. They should never have placed their trust in me in the first place.

“They’re too many—”

A slashing sword found Polymedes on the neck as the rest of his body fell to the deck, his sword rolling out from the palm of his motionless right hand, finding its solace.

I am not a good leader. They are dying because of me.

“My prince…”

Telemachus found Theodices holding the right side of his stomach, the chiton was already drenched in red. But it was a smile that came to Theodices’s lips. A smile that was trying to take away the prince’s sorrow. A smile that was blaming him of nothing, yet everything.

In the end, I was too inexperienced, too incapable, too weak.

“Goodbye…it’s an honor to serve you.”

And then Theodices, the last remained, crumbled silently. Behind his fallen body, a group of twelve warriors were standing still. The smirk on their faces was proudly claiming their victory.

It was then did Telemachus recover from shock, realizing his plan to flee—

—And run into a taller figure. His helmet spoke of nothing but malice.

“Where do you think you’re going,” Telemachus heard him saying. But that voice…it can’t be… “Little wolf?”

All of a sudden, Telemachus felt his heart stopped.

So it’s him.

The figure removed his shining helmet, revealing the scarred face of a man Telemachus knew so well. A man Telemachus hated so much.

Antinous.

But does that mean…

Other warriors were doing the same now, he noticed. They were all taking off the helmets to show their faces: Eurymachus, Agrius, Eurynomus, Ormenius…so they have finally come to this. Murder and taking over. Telemachus clenched his fists, feeling so sick.

“What a fine day to take a trip, wouldn’t you agree?” Antinous continued as other suitors behind him were approaching. Telemachus tensed himself. But desperation was growing like a cancer inside. How could I possibly even fight them all…

“You mother must be worried sick.”

“That’s none of your concern,” Telemachus retorted. “Now just leave me alone—”

“Alone? Alone, did you say?” Antinous simply laughed. “But you are alone, little wolf. You are always alone. Nobody will care about you. Not your people, not your friends, not even your family—”

“This isn’t true,” Telemachus shook his head in protest.

“—You really think your mother cares about you?” ignoring Telemachus’s retort, Antinous continued. “What a joke. She must’ve known so well you’re just a failure trying to become your father, and always failing. She must’ve known so well you can never be king.”

Telemachus glared at this man in front of him—that smirk on his face never faded. This isn’t true. Don’t listen to what he says.

But he had to— “And where’s your father when you needed him?”

The world felt like spinning now.

Telemachus hissed, feeling his throat tighten. The sense of suffocation slowly swarmed up as Telemachus gasped heavily, trying to forge a response, trying to find an answer to Antinous’s taunt. But deep down, he already knew. Antinous was speaking the truth.

No one will come and help me now.

His eyes felt like burning.

In the end, it’s just me, myself, and I.

It’s just me against the suitors, against the tides…against everything. Gods, I am so alone.

“So you see? Nobody cares if you’re alive or dead, little wolf,” Antinous sneered, driving Telemachus’s thoughts back to reality. “So when you die, no one will shed a noble tear. Only silence will lament you.”

Maybe it’s time to accept reality now, Telemachus. There is no hope. There never will be.

Antinous was turning around, gesturing the rest of the suitors to move forward. Only one sentence could Telemachus make out—yet one sentence was more than enough—

“Hold him down,” Antinous ordered.

The suitors rushed to the prince, their weapons ablaze. His hands empty, Telemachus didn’t even bother to make any move. He was only watching silently as the suitors came, grasping his arms and shoulders, kicking his knees, forcing him to yield before this towering figure of Antinous right in front. Telemachus didn’t even bother to struggle.

For he had already accepted everything—his failures, his loneliness, his life…his fate. Fate of death. It was neither rage nor sorrow that was gripping him now. For the first time in his life, Telemachus felt relieved.

Relieved of this life he was struggling to suffer.

Just let the end come, swiftly, silently.

Antinous pulled out a dagger from his girdle, playing with it fluently in his palms. “Tell me, little wolf: do you prefer a quick death,” he was flipping the dagger when asking. “Or a fulfilling one?”

“Just…do what you want of me,” Telemachus spit out blankly. “I don’t care now.”

“Very good, then,” an ominous smile slowly crawled to Antinous’s lips. “Then perhaps I can spare you your throat.”

He kept his gaze at the dagger for a while before plunging it into Telemachus’s chest. Dark blood was streaming from his torso, turning the white chiton into a blossoming crimson. Agony enshrouded him as Telemachus cried out weakly, his voice already failing him.

He didn’t hear the sound of an arrow as he crumbled.

He didn’t see how Antinous fell, his hand still holding the shaft that pierced through the chestplate and the flesh inside.

He didn’t notice the arrival of another ship, as torrents of arrows sliced through the air, finding their aim at the suitors’ body, taking them down one by one, until no one was left standing.

Someone had stepped on board, rushing at the faltering Telemachus in haste. Telemachus felt the touch of human warmth holding his body as he struggled to open his eyes, finding the familiar face of a boy he once knew. It belonged to…

“Peisis, you came to me,” Telemachus muttered weakly. “You finally…came to me.”

“Yes…” the young prince of Pylos whispered, tears already forming in his eyes. “But I took too long. It’s my fault—”

“No, Peisis,” Telemachus smiled sadly. “No…don’t blame yourself. I…it…it doesn’t matter now.”

Peisistratus forced a smile, but tears were already dropping from his eyelids. “I’m sorry I can’t get to you in time,” he replied.

“But still…” Telemachus continued. “How…why did you come? I thought…I thought I’d asked you to stay.”

“And stay I did,” Peisistratus answered. “Until a friend came to me, asking me to bring a ship here.”

“Friend?”

“Your friend,” Peisistratus continued softly. “Maybe you know her better as, well, the bright-eyed goddess.”

“Athena?” Telemachus gasped. “But…how?”

“She said she didn’t make it in time either,” Peisistratus replied. “Someone delayed her for a while, and she had only recovered from her wounds just now…”

“Wounds?”

“It’s a long story—at least that’s what she said,” Peisistratus answered quickly.

Telemachus didn’t reply. His breath was already running short. Peisistratus only took up his right hand, and handed him something.

Telemachus opened his palm to find a golden necklace sitting inside. It was a beautiful gift, a chain of gold leaves all carved with the letter Τ—all on the left side of the chain. And then Peisistratus showed him another necklace, with the letter Π carved on every gold leaf on the right side. Telemachus mustered the strength to grin.

“They’re matching ones,” Peisistratus explained. “For our friendship.”

Telemachus nodded satisfyingly. “Thank you, Peisis.”

“And…you must have many things to say to your mother…and father too, I guess,” Peisistratus continued, changing the topic. “Do you want me to…”

“Yes—it’ll be great,” Telemachus coughed. “Just tell my mother, I love her, and, I’m sorry…”

“Wait, sorry?” Peisistratus couldn’t help but ask.

“Yeah…I’m sorry. I failed her, after all…”

“But you didn’t fail anyone,” Peisistratus replied quickly. “You have fought bravely, and no one should take that honor away from you.

“You truly are the son of Odysseus,” Peisistratus gave his shoulder a squeeze. “And I’m honored to have you as my friend, even just for such a short moment in my life. I’m glad to have known you, Telemachus.”

“Thanks…” Telemachus said. His sound was softer than a whisper now. “You too, Peisis…I’m honored, to have, known…

And then Telemachus let another smile play on his face. “Time to meet you, father…”

Peisistratus never forgot that day when Ithaca lost its prince, when he lost his best friend…when a father lost his son, missing the entire life of his son, all in twenty years of wandering.

It was hard to accept, Peisistratus admitted. Not even gods could plan things this cruel, to shatter a reunion with the pain of death. Fates had done this family unfair…

But then, there were times when he would hear whispers of a certain figure that would show up when people were planning or scheming, when they were working with their mind thinking quick. These reports of a certain figure that resembled the prince of Ithaca himself intrigued Peisistratus deeply. Maybe this was why he had never got to see his friend’s body for one last time, when the entire form of Telemachus had suddenly faded in front of his eyes.

For rumors had it that the figure was always accompanying the Ithacan king Odysseus—finally returned in the twentieth year, whenever he planned for stealth or plunder. There was no way for Peisistratus to confirm it, of course—until that very day, when he came across his friend once again, in the realm of quick thought; when he spoke with him once again, learning that neither his father nor he would be alone now—for in the domain of thoughts they would forever be together, as decreed by Athena, where they would be exchanging stories, talking of their past, planning for a future that only one would witness, the other behold.

Then Peisistratus knew it all: how Telemachus was brought to the domain of Quick Thought, for he was Athena’s friend; how he in his divine essence still missed his father, and thus became the patron of the mind of resourceful Odysseus. They’re holding fast to each other’s memory now, Peisistratus thought. Maybe it’s for the better. For after all, isn’t to fall, to learn one way?

And what a great way it is to have their reunion, at last.

#tagamemnon #epic the musical #fanfic #epic the wisdom saga #epic the ithaca saga #telemachus #pisistratus #telestratus #greek mythology #Lyculī scriptiōnēs #antinous #writers on tumblr #fanfiction #tw: blood #wrote the ending when I was half-asleep as you can see

50 notes · View notes

firedemblem · 2 months ago

Text

Ailing Empire: Adrestia and the Han

tl;dr: The Adrestian Empire in FE3H is a direct reference to the rise and fall of the Han Dynasty (202 BC - 220 CE).

This is the first of a few rambles I'd like to do about Chinese history, specifically on the late Han - Three Kingdoms period which influenced KOEI's writing for FE3H. For these I'll be focusing more on themes and inspirations, and less on 1-to-1 comparisons of events and characters. But I'll make it clear what the history is, what the FE3H references are, and why an educated Chinese or Japanese audience would recognize them.

Also fights about who's right or wrong will be ignored. okay lessgo

First, The History

The Han Dynasty, starting around ~202 BC, is the first major imperial dynasty of China. It's the first Chinese empire that lasted for more than 25 years, it's considered the origin of Chinese identity, and even the modern Chinese writing system (hanzi) and the term for ethnic Chinese people (the Han) still reference it. It's very influential. Unfortunately, it also collapsed spectacularly in the 200s CE, leading to a period of civil war in which 3 kingdoms with complex leaders and heroes fought over whose vision should govern China. You can see where I'm going with this.

Now, China isn't new to civil war either before or after the Three Kingdoms (3K). There are plenty of other famous periods of war. But the 3K became famous across Asia, not just China, for a few reasons.

Unique and memorable factions, popularly retold stories of loyalty and betrayals, and people not agreeing on who was in the right (again, you can see where I'm going with this).

Historical records (the Records of the Three Kingdoms, or 三国志) were written about 50 years after the period, providing historians and readers plenty of reference material.

Another 300 years of civil war happening AFTER the 3K made everyone miss the Han and look back fondly at the events near its end.

The Romance of the Three Kingdoms (三国演义), a historical novel written by Luo Guanzhong in the 1400s CE (1200 years after the Han ended), laid out the most famous events of the period in a more readable and adaptable form.

Infinite subsequent adaptations and Dynasty Warriors games.

(For "why 3K was also popular in Japan", see this more well-referenced reddit post.)

This is just to give you an idea of how well-known and influential the late Han to 3K period is, and why it's become a source of references across Chinese and Japanese culture up to the modern day.

Okay, so why does its fall mean Adrestia--

Sorry, getting to that. But to get to that, we have to talk about what exactly happened to cause the Han Empire to fail.

The short version was that the Han ended due to a combo of corruption, failed power grabs, weak emperors, badly behaving regents, and lords with their own power bases (again, you can see... okay I'll stop). The long version is a little more thorough. Since this post is already long you can reference the full wiki'd version here, but the summary of events is as follows:

Under the Han Emperor Ling and his supporting eunuchs, the Ten Attendants, the Imperial government becomes corrupt and heavily taxes the peasantry. Revolts break out.

To put down the revolts, Emperor Ling gives regional officials the power to keep their own armies. (The Han at this time is governed by region, each with its own imperially appointed governor. Think of it as the American president letting each state governor have their own army.)

The revolt is suppressed, but then Emperor Ling dies, leaving 2 heirs aged 13 and 9 and a bunch of powerful eunuchs and officials. The older heir is declared Emperor Shao. Power struggles immediately ensue.

A general related to the Imperial family, He Jin, summons the army of the regional official Dong Zhuo to help him get rid of the eunuchs.

He Jin is immediately assassinated by the eunuchs. The eunuchs are killed in turn.

Dong Zhuo gets to court, finds a power vacuum and a weak 13-year-old emperor, and installs himself as regent with his army. Unfortunately Dong Zhuo is just as corrupt and cruel as the eunuchs, and shortly afterwards "replaces" the 13-year-old emperor with his 9-year-old brother (read: by poisoning). The 9-year-old is crowned Emperor Xian.

A coalition of other officials, now with their own standing armies, unite to fight Dong Zhuo and restore power to the emperor. They fail, but keep building up their armies anyway in defiance of Dong Zhuo's control. One of these officials is named Cao Cao (pronounced T'sao T'sao).

Dong Zhuo dies to his own men. Through a series of hijinx and fights with the other officials (who've since become warlords of their own territories), Cao Cao takes control over the emperor instead.

Cao Cao keeps control by being better at governing than Dong Zhuo, and the emperor stays a puppet. Though he's officially prime minister of the Han court, Cao Cao becomes head of the Wei faction and King of Wei while wiping out most of the other warlords. (The other 2 kingdoms being major exceptions, obviously, but we aren't going to get to them today.)

After Cao Cao dies, his son Cao Pi declares himself not just king but first emperor of Wei, forcing Emperor Xian to abdicate and ending the Han Dynasty.

NOW for Adrestia

If you read over everything above, you'll already have a pretty good idea of what I'll say. But I'd like to lay it out anyway: this is a list of the close parallels between Adrestia as described at the start of FE3H, and the state of the Han Empire just before its end.

Just as the Han empire is considered the foundational empire of China, Adrestia's founding and history are considered the start of modern civilization in Fodlan.

Even the founding story of Wilhelm & the Saints vs. King of Liberation Nemesis has shades of callback. In records of the founding of the Han, the first emperor Liu Bang is famously recorded as having the support of 3 wise generals/strategists, and having to defeat his main rival the Hegemon-King Xiang Yu.

Since its mythologized founding, Adrestia has lost a significant chunk of its territory and glory, just as the later Han Empire was significantly more subdued in power than at its height.

Though for the Han this was more due to losses against northern tribes and usurpations, such as by Wang Mang, than by splitting off into 2 separate kingdoms.

The timelines for Fodlan have also been expanded compared to 3K, such that we're not talking about a civil war and more about 3 sovereign nations.

The holders of power in Adrestia, the noble families, are noted as being either corrupt (Aegir, Bartels), disloyal to the Emperor (Vestra), in it for themselves (Hevring, Bergliez), or otherwise ineffectual.

This closely reflects the later Han's governmental corruption, power struggles, and rise in self-motivated officials and eunuchs, which eventually leads up to the chaos of the 3K period.

Adrestia's Insurrection of the Seven can thus be seen as a heavily condensed version of the Han court's power struggles, especially between a weak emperor and their more powerful officials. The eunuchs have been combined with the officials to create the nobility, but the beats are the same.

The imperial family tries to reclaim its power from powerful officials, and fails.

A weak emperor or imperial heir is forcibly put under regentship by a more powerful official.

The regent is corrupt, foolish, and acts with impunity, leading to chaos in the rest of the nation. (Interestingly enough, Dong Zhuo, the corrupt regent who first takes control of the court, is frequently portrayed as being fat and boorish in a similar way as Duke Aegir's design evokes.)

The name "Insurrection of the Seven" also parallels that of the Ten Attendants, the title of the corrupt eunuchs.

Even Edelgard's situation, being lower in succession but taking power after her siblings are killed (indirectly) by powerful officials, can be seen as a callback to Emperor Xian being proclaimed emperor himself and having his older sibling poisoned by Dong Zhuo.

Now, I should note that these are meant more to be parallels than proofs. And FE3H makes its own share of changes and unique writing choices, which it has to do to create a European-styled universe that meshes better with the Fire Emblem structure. But due to the popularity of the 3K period in China and Japan, the way the other 3H houses match the other 2 kingdoms, Awakening referencing Romance of the Three Kingdoms, and KOEI also producing the Dynasty Warriors and RoTK series, I'm absolutely certain all of these themes are intentional. So given all this, I think there's a lot more to analyze about FE3H's portrayal of Fodlan if we keep considering it in light of Chinese history, and I hope to start doing that for the other 2 factions next.

Aren't you missing something?

Yes, and I wanted to add an additional section at the end of this long ramble, because what I find really interesting are the writing decisions that changed between history and FE3H.

For one, there is no "Cao Cao" figure to usurp the Han in FE3H. This is because Edelgard herself, while being analogous to Emperor Xian, also effectively becomes Cao Cao by trying to seize power and uproot the previous order. Since she can't usurp her own rule over Adrestia, her conflict is written to be external by focusing on the Church of Seiros, which did not exist in Chinese history. And since there's three nations instead of one civil war, a greater overall conflict has to be forced on each of them via Slithers. But Edelgard's thematic struggle remains the same as Cao Cao's; seizing control over what she views as a failed system, and righting it by any means regardless of conventional morality or opposition.

For two, as mentioned before, there's as many callbacks to Biblical and European mythology in FE3H as there are Chinese underpinnings. FE3H's names are European, Shakespearean, Greek, and Celtic. Its religion is syncretized from Abrahamic flood myths, Buddhist cycles of reincarnation, and the Egyptian goddess Isis (with a veneer of Catholicism). Its characters are school-life teenagers rather than hardened warlords, and its backstory is every conspiracy theory combined. Yet I find that in terms of storytelling and themes, FE3H is better explored via its comparison to the 3K than via any of these other references. Because there's not a whole lot to say about the Alliance being named after King Lear characters, but it's way more interesting to consider Claude being a Sun Quan outsider-analogue, or why the Blue Lions are written with a terminal case of Loyalty. But I'll get to those in other rants.

#fe3h #three kingdoms #romance of the three kingdoms #edelgard von hresvelg

25 notes · View notes

wardenv5 · 2 months ago

Text

im working on a post for High Rock, Hammerfell and Summerset Isles but im really worried that its very basic and doesnt have a lot of substance. anyway to distract from that ive made some AU versions of npcs in games

Reachman/Forsworn warrior. Instead of just "generic savage" look, I gave them one inspired heavily by Incan society, thick cloak, sandals and sling, perfect for mountain life, but with a dwemer plate and mace. I think Reachman should have more connection with the Dwemer, since so many cities are found in the Reach. Maybe they have a few forge masters who can work the metal, maybe they simply scout in for whatever pieces still remain.

Whiterun Guard, inspired Mongolian armor, lightly armored and built for the dry cool environments. I like this armor cause it makes you feel like they live somewhere cold, but still feels very realistic/low fantasy that Skyrim goes for.

Thalmor justicar. Focusing more their nautical focus, and taking some basis on Philippines traditional armor, with the greek trident. This feels like something a medieval marine troop would wear, especially with glass armor being light. I don't think they would wear this in Skyrim (at least they'd have to put boots on) but in the Summerset Isles it feels appropriate.

Breton Mages Guild member - This is inspired from Daggerfall, which noticeably showed a lot more skin, and is taken from part of the AU/worldbuilding post I'm making, with big changes to High Rock's cultural inspiration instead of just typical medieval stuff. I also took inspiration from the Sorcerer class art in Oblivion. I actually really like this design tbh.

#tes #worldbuilding #skyrim #au characters

17 notes · View notes

imnotgreen-art · 8 months ago

Text

as previously mentioned, i have been working on a warm hands of ghosts fanart-comic type thing because i love drawing little comics, and this felt like an excellent excuse if im honest

we are on page 3 out of potentially 5 or 6 (maybe 8 if i get carried away) and i have been putting my whole soul into it, so we will seeee when i can get that up and posted bearing in mind i am not well at the moment

little sneak peek + more rambles down here :

it is heavily based on the last few pages of the book, so pretty intense spoilers obviously but its MASSIVELY self indulgent, features my own daft designs for Freddie, Winter, Laura, plus small cameos from Faland and Pim, which probably arent the most lore accurate ever but are still very fun to draw and :) we will see how it turns out. it was completely inspired by my dear friend @kkatz0 who came up with the idea for a sketch and i just took it WAY too far and now im about 12 hours in no joke

i want to post it all at once, because ive designed it to scroll quite nicely and its not really alllll that long, but i love making fanart surrounding the book so we will see what comes in the future

ANYWAY sorry this has become a massive long thing and I am ngl i am so tired and sore so i am going to go to bed, and ill try and post again soon

also sorry to the warrior cats fans who have been taken along for an absolute RIDE with the warm hands of ghosts content. guys im sorry but the book is absolutely excellent. my vocabulary is not enough to express how deeply it touched my soul

thank you for reading this far if you have :]

#my art #the warm hands of ghosts #warm hands of ghosts #the fiend #comic #is there enough of a fandom for the book yet to put out a comic and find an audience?#at this point to be honest i dont care. im doing this for myself #its so fun im having the best time #i get nervous about posting this kind of thing but it is so dear to my heart #artist #fanart #warm hands epilogue comic

29 notes · View notes

ihopesocomic · 10 months ago

Note

I'm still keeping up with your guys' comics and its still great on what your doing! So much so that I've came up with my own lion story too (My Pride is also somewhat an inspiration, but much like you guys, I'm only inspired by it, not that I think its good lol). So thank you and keep it up!

Ahh thank you so so much. <33

And yeah, there's no cast iron law that states you should be full of praise for what inspires you. Take a look at the Warrior Cats fandom as an example. Not as critical of the books as they should be but they also recognise the books aren't a Shakespearian masterpiece and AUs and reduxes of the writing are heavily encouraged there.

I've heard the MP fandom is now working in a similar fashion. Just fragmented groups coming up with rewrites and AUs. If they're not still waiting around for a Season 2, anyway. But I'm at least glad to hear that there's some creativity and critical thinking coming out of the fandom in light of Season 2 becoming less and less likely over the years. But anyway, good luck with your own project. Hope you have fun with it, above all else. - RJ

#ask #ask us stuff #rj answers #comic praise #my pride mention

30 notes · View notes

warrior-cats-rewritten · 5 months ago

Note

do the cats have any like. things with bugs? like symbolism or stories?

Ants - Ants, due to their strength in numbers, are seen as very good friends and an example as to why working in teams in a good thing. A single ant can hardly move anything, but an entire team of ants can move huge pieces of food! The Ant- prefix is supposed to inspire the thought of a cat who is a team player, someone who works well with others. The ancient cat Antcloud of Riverclan, Cloudberry's brother, was known as a friendly cat to all. Antpelt's mother named him Antkit in hopes he'd make lots of friends...

Ladybugs - These little critters are actually associated heavily with motherhood! It is said that if a pregnant Queen sees a ladybug with many spots, the queen will have many kittens! If the ladybug does not have many spots, they will not have many kittens. Superstitious cats believe in it, like Brightheart, where cats who don't, like Cloudtail, tend to just think they're pretty. Ladybug is a very, very rare prefix, seen in ancient times with an underaged Shadowclan apprentice, Ladybugpaw. He is demoted back to Ladybugkit, and his future name was Ladybugfur.

Praying Mantis - These tough bugs (seriously I'm pretty sure fear is a foreign concept to these things) are seen pretty differently by each Clan. To Shadowclan, they are a snack, albeit a more bizarre one, often paired with roasted poultry and spicy Juniper berries. To Riverclan, they're a sign that the meadow in their Lake territory is healthy! Before that, they were mysterious, seen more like spirits than anything, and a sign that Starclan was watching the land by bringing its grass blades to life. To Windclan, they are valued for their resilience, and their willingness to battle despite size... It's relatable to them! If Windclan had movies, they'd be the underdog hero.

Grasshoppers - Snacks! Food! Yummy! Favorite food of Featherpelt, who loves frying some up and dipping them in blood gravy. Oh yeah... We use cooking too, but MUCH more recent in Clan history! Riverclan turns up their noses though, they refuse to eat them, but Shadowclan cats will slather them in vinegar. Grasshopper in general are associated with an old story, one that only Skyclan knows now from their old days. Their very first leader learned how to jump from a large Grasshopper, but when it tried to take her place as leader of Skyclan, she jumped high and swatted it off the high branch, breaking it into lots of little Grasshopper babies. Grasshoppers now have no idea what happened, but catching them is still a point of pride!

Snails (I know they're not bugs but you try telling cats that) - Snails! Their shells are collectible, and sometimes a very hot commodity in Shadowclan and Skyclan! There are stories of giant snails that cats can ride the shells of, and paint with pigments, meaning little painted shells are worth even MORE. The name Snail is meant to inspire peace and thoughtfulness.

Clams/Muscles - Riverclan food! Lots of Riverclan Cats learn to dive down into the river and part of the ocean when they take trips down there, all with the hopes to grab some yummy creature (and hopefully find a pearl!). Cats guard the ones they catch, and they're heavily prized for the possibility that they may hold a pearl. There are Legends about hunting parties that managed to save Riverclan from starting to death by diving down into the depths of the river to grab lots of them. Part of Riverclan mythology is the legend of a gigantic clam that resides in the river that an ancient Leopardclan warrior stashed a giant rainbow coloured pearl inside of to guard...

Crabs (also yes I know) - Beach bugs! A very lovely treat that cats will go to Sundrown Place to get along with salt! Just make sure to bring a basket, so you don't get pinched! Berrynose finds this one out the hard way. They're a delightful food and they're shells and pincers are often kept and traded! Riverclan has now become the lovers of all seafood, and will trade you whatever you like in return for a big crab.

Flies - Flighty around others, but brave enough to withstand sickness, often mate with those huge roaring dragons in the sky! Helpful as well, they point out sick prey or rotting meat. Cherryfall named Flykit the way she did because she feels that they're incredibly important, and wanted her tiny daughter to feel special. Flystar of Skyclan was Honor Titled the name Fly- for their ability to pick our bad prey, saving the Clan from a major outbreak during a very dark time when every other Clan was experiencing a Plague.

Dragonflies - Seen as the gorgeous offspring between flies and Dragons (airplanes) due to their shape, they're associated with grace, beauty, still water, and growing plants. There are however, stories of Dragonflies managing to become massive beasts, joining their dragon parent in the sky... Dragonfly from the Kin gets a huge reputation boost for being cool because of it.

Beetles - Icewing's favorite creature, if you let her, she'll talk your ear off about how pretty they are, their lovely smooth shells, how much she loves the ones with horns... All that. They are seen as very beautiful by the Clans, and I'm pretty sure some apprentices keep beetles in little hideouts to watch them... Or make the horned ones fight because kids will be kids. Icewing and Mintwhisker were big fans of beetle fights, and named Beetlewhisker after the beetles they bonded over as apprentices.

Worms - Lot of different opinions! Though, Thunderclan has a very very sore spot concerning worms. You'll have to forgive them, they're not the type to let things go. Since the move to the lake, things have gotten better, but stories about The Great Hunger are still cause for many cats to very much dislike worms. They'll happily trade them off to Riverclan. Bait in exchange for duck feathers and the occasional egg.

Speaking of, Riverclan LOVE worms. Not to eat, no, but for bait! Not many fish can resist a wiggly worm!

To Windclan, they're kinda seen as annoying. I'm borrowing Tunnelbuns from Bonefall, and a worm getting into your tunnelbun is the WORST.

For Shadowclan, many apprentices try and catch them to put them in frog-filled areas to fatten up frogs for an easier future catch. Doesn't always work, but it keeps them entertained and it's fun to watch!

Crickets - The snack you dare your friends to try. Cool! Weird! A bug that SINGS! Myths linger about a cricket that managed to learn to speak, and gave a sign from Starclan to an old Lionclan cat to save his leader. Cricket songs are enjoyed heavily, and Crickets going quiet is cause for deep concern. It happens right before the Great Battle. The silence is still a... Tough to talk about moment.

Spiders - Skyclan and The Forest Four have very different views!

To the Forest Four, Spiders have a bit of a tough rep. They're eeire, but the cobwebs they make are so, so useful. Plenty of cats have a fear of spiders, such as Cloudtail, Owlwhisker, and Mossyfoot. They're seen as very pragmatic, and Spiderleg was named for his very spider-y body, but also his will to live, and his strength, especially when he was a tiny kitten, and needed his extra leg amputated due to the pain it was causing.

To Skyclan: A tragic symbol of the final leader of old Skyclan. Spiderstar made the final call, like a dying mother spider, to cast off remaining cats of Skyclan out into the Twolegplace. They are seen as beautiful, intelligent, and protective. Spiderstar is often called upon for a blessing when a cat goes on a quest, in hopes they will still come home afterwards. Pebbleshine frequently prays to her, as does Violetshine. They both love spiders as a result.

Ticks - Bad! Awful! Makes cats sick! Hurts and itches! These things caused a terrible Plague during the Homebrew story Wishstar's Abyss, and she used the cover of the sickness to poison the current leader. They need to be dealt with ASAP. Removed with prey bones or carved sticks, mouse bile is a Shadowclan exclusive seasoning once cooking is discovered.

Bees - Seen as less of a threat than their Wasp counterparts, but still creatures to be a bit weary about! They do not take kindly to stealing. The Legend of The Bee is very similar to the old myth in our world about them! A large bee presented Starclan with sweet honey, and Starclan was thankful. When Starclan asked the bee how she managed to make enough to share with everyone, the bee laughed and stated she would attack anyone who tried, that Starclan cats were lucky to have gotten a taste. Starclan cursed the bee, while she was given an incredible weapon to defend herself, it would kill her if used. Since you're able to harvest from bees without getting stung (so long as you remain calm) the Bee name is often associated with quieter, more strategic cats.

Bumblebees - These are seen as SIMILAR to bees, but not quite! They do still sting, but how could something so differently shaped and so very fuzzy be the actual same thing? They're also called Bumbles, making Bumble a suitable prefix (not that it wasn't already from Bumblestripe!) Shadowclan celebrates a Bumblebee Festival, where many Pollen rich flowers are gathered and placed in the middle of camp to attract bumbles near the end of Greenleaf!

Wasps/Hornets - These are actually seen as the same thing! Just different ranking. Since it's known that bees swarm, the Clan cats see these as higher ranked bees. Think apprentices vs warriors. Same THING, different rank. Waspwhisker's name is an indication of his strength in battle (and in being a good tracker, hence the suffix).

#warrior cats #warriors #warrior cats rewrite #wcr #asks #bugs #bug tw #insects #insect tw #spider tw #more snails inspired by dragons please

17 notes · View notes

skyloftian-nutcase · 2 months ago

Note

Since I see you've asking lots of people this, I'm throwing the love right back at ya!

It’s “appreciate yourself” hours! Pick five pieces of writing/art that you’ve done that you love and talk about them! ❤️❤️❤️

aowhebfofhsnwowuwbe AHHH YOU HAVE NO IDEA HOW HAPPY THIS MADE ME ❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️ Thank you for asking ❤️❤️❤️😭

Well, let’s see…

I know this isn’t a popular AU of mine, but I really love the Imprisoning War AU (and, consequently, Golden Mercy as well) with my whole heart. Also it has invaded my brain so freaking much I might actually explode LOL. Idk, my mental health and life in general have been not as optimal as I would like, and this AU has been my outlet for that, which is why it’s far more hurt and less comfort than most people like. But I relate to the characters in different ways (people pleaser Link my beloved haha dude I get trying to make everything work for everyone and trying to say yes to everyone and burning yourself out; forever alone and somehow the most rational one Hemisi I feel you girl; everyone relying on you and you have to do it because when you don’t the world falls apart Zelda keep up the good fight girl), I like exploring what happens when you really push the “Zelink has to happen every time, even at the expense of other relationships” agenda that sometimes is tossed around (no hate to Zelink or its shippers, I enjoy some Zelink ships and I know many Zelink shippers who are wonderful. I just hate the idea of forcing them together all the time when there are other relationships that are clearly there lol, I’m salty about how Hyrule Warriors handled it but it was fan service so whatevs. ANYWAY. It creates great drama), and I like showing a realistic depiction of the absolute, if you’ll pardon the expression, shit show that would be left behind in the wake of such a disastrous war that Ganondorf created. It also sets up Ganondorf’s expectations, worries, and views really well for Golden Mercy, and I’m pretty excited to write a Hyrule Warriors long fic and try to redeem that giant jerk while still making it realistic and recognizing he’s a complicated guy. :) They’re all complicated, and I love characters so it’s just so much fun for me. Also, making anybody turn into a good Dad is obviously a passion of mine LOL. I’ll shut up now, but I really love this AU. ❤️ (technically I lumped two stories together for this but they’re all part of the same AU so… there lol)

Blood of the Hero is probably my current favorite long fic that I’m actively updating. The LoZ fandom is sorely lacking good parental figures (and I understand part of that is because Link just doesn’t have parents in his games and partly because people are projecting and that’s understandable), so I wanted to fix it dang it. LET LINK HAVE PARENTS WHO LOVE HIM. BOTW TALKED ABOUT HIS FAMILY. Anyway, I also love letting adults actually have a role in saving the world instead of always leaving it to the poor overwhelmed kids LOL, making them middle aged parents is an absolute bonus. And Abel being constantly tired and burnt out and done with the world speaks to my soul, and Tilieth being the one to hold on to hope despite everything and still have sensitivity and femininity to her while still being a strong character also speaks to my soul. I love them both, and I love showing how determined they are to protect their kids, as any good parent should be. They’re heavily inspired by my own parents, as well as myself, and what I would interpret Link’s parents to be like based on his upbringing and personality, so it was really fun creating their personalities. :)

I have so many Sky-centric stories that I love, but I think my favorite is probably Paradox, I had such a fun experience writing it and loved the idea of giving Fierce Deity an origin story while creating a sense of urgency and confusion and mystery and wrapping it all in a sickfic. :) I cranked that sucker out in thirty minutes and I still think it’s one of my best one shots.

I can only take partial credit for this since @nancyheart11 came up with the original premise, and because @smilesrobotlover has contributed so much as well, but I do love Dad Squad with all my heart. They’re such idiots, I adore them and their quest to save their sons who already technically saved themselves because they’re heroes. Also, the latest development in my brain of including TotK Ganondorf as the main villain from Hero of Shadow seems appropriate in making the big baddie a Bad Dad in a Dad Squad story LOL. Having Majora’s Mask in the hands of Kohga gives me life, though, and I will forever be grateful to Nancy for coming up with that premise HA. I haven’t written much for it lately, but I do love it so much. Also props to her for publishing it on AO3, I could never LOL, I’ll just throw random things on tumblr hahaha. Also, just all the fun we’re all having - the fact that multiple people have written/drawn for this AU makes it all the more precious to me, they’re our collective characters and we all get to play in the sandbox. ❤️

I don’t do much art, I’m not very good at it, but I do want to share one since I’ve shared a bit of it. I have a few pieces I’m actually really proud of, and it’s equal liking for all of them, but I’ll share just one so I don’t talk too much.

I really like this one because for once I kind of drew a face well?? And it’s at an angle I don’t usually draw and it turned out ok?? Also I’ve never drawn rain or wet hair, and I think it turned out well. And I just like Power’s design, especially at this stage in his life where his war attire/design is mixing with his royal attire/design, even if I can’t give it justice. :) Also, I think his tired expression turned out pretty well? Like he has an actual expression?? Anyway. I think it’s decent, I like it. :)

Thank you for this ask, it made me really happy and I couldn’t wait to answer it! :D But I have like 60 works on AO3 and even more here on tumblr, so there was no way I could narrow it all down, but I think I’ve listed most of my absolute favorites. :)

#you ask skye answers #Lovely 16mistypaw #Writing #my art #imprisoning war #good ganondorf #Dad squad #Blood of the hero #I have so many other stories and AUs I could list as well but I had to limit it to five #Like I love how Elastic Heart turned out #Healthcare AU makes me smile with how many people it’s touched and helped ❤️#I’m always caught off guard and happy with the response Numb got #There’s so much enthusiasm for Breath of the Sky and I think that’s neat and fun :)#Anyway I’ll stop babbling but thanks for giving me an opportunity to bounce around this corner of tumblr excitedly and show off my stuff ha #Also the forsaken AU makes me laugh SO much it’s such a joy to play with #And I’m eternally thrilled with how secrets of the shadows turned out and the reception it go ☺️☺️☺️❤️❤️❤️#Ok NOW I’m done babbling LOL

15 notes · View notes