#* & circe ━━ ❮ dialogue ❯

[aq2003]

has anyone gotten the idea that odysseus' storyline in hades 2 is a depiction/exploration of trauma over his SA and how he's blaming himself for things that were out of his control? because that's the impression i'm getting from what i've seen. he talks about "goddesses" as his "greatest weakness" and that "he's not one to say no to them"...

when mel invites him to the bath, he brings up mortals having different standards for intimacy than gods and how it usually has a more romantic/sexual connotation. she then asks if he's uncomfortable and he has a startled reaction and brings up circe and calypso again (but never actually by name)

(this isn't ship/romance bait btw. odysseus knew mel as a kid and they're stated in-game to have a sibling/uncle-niece relationship)

also he grew apart from penelope after his return, but the game makes a point of showing that his love for penelope and telemachus is what drove him on at all so that element of his character isn't brought into question

[himboblackdragon]

THINKING about one of my favorite lines of DFQC's:

你一天长珩长 长珩短，你满脑子除了长珩还有什么？

Utterly untranslatable. I despair.

DFQC is pretty good at wordplay and, um, I guess you could call it figurative speech. The occasional proverb will appear in his dialogue to devastating effect (eg, eg, eg). He's a smart guy, and it shows in his speech patterns, even if "clever" isn't one of his main character traits. His diction has a certain force of imagery and pithiness to it.

The dialogue above is from Episode 10, after he shows her the new Simingdian he built, and she begs to be let go to Shuiyuntian. Xiao Lanhua says something to the effect of, "I'll never tell anyone of your whereabouts. Even if Changheng-xianjun himself asks."

Dongfang Qingcang blows up, accusing her of being obsessed with Changheng.

All day long, it's 长珩长 长珩短 with you. Is there anything other than Changheng in your brain?

To understand the untranslated part, you have to break Changheng down into its component parts: The first, 长 cháng, means "long." The second, 珩 héng, is a jade ornament thing. This one isn't that important, it's just the second character in his name. The last character in the untranslated part is 短 duǎn, meaning "short."

Put together, the six characters are pronounced cháng-héng-cháng cháng-héng-duǎn: "Changheng long, Changheng short." Meaning, of course, "Changheng, Changheng all the time (do you ever talk about anything else)." Except he played on the 长 cháng character to do it, giving it a pleasing rhythm to the ear!

A;LSDJF;LASJLDFKA;LF

I have to disclaim that this isn't even a particularly impressive play on words in the grand scheme of things. It just lives rent-free in my head for some reason.

[mossattack]

circe has a boon that makes mel bigger AND changes her voice as a result 😳

[nashalbrecht]

closed starter for @xsorceressx location: circe's place note: audacity x4279379375972350725070

Ever since he had given his blood to the necronomicon, he had been trying to figure out a way to explain it to Circe. Nashoba had done this for her. He had made a promise to not leave her again. He kept his word on that kind of thing and he had only thought of her when he had made that leap. The one thing he hadn't really taken a second thought of was the fact that he had aligned himself with the Asphodel. And, just as he had thought before, he kept his promises. When they called upon him, he would need to be there. This power had not been given to him as simply a gift. It wasn't out of the kindness of that witch's heart to offer this to him. No, they needed soldiers to defend that book when the situation called for it. Nash was not so blind to not see that there was a war brewing in Rome. Normally, he would not have cared about what happened to anyone but himself. That was how it had been for a long time until he met Circe. And now? There wasn't regret for what he had done, but he knew that the people he allied himself with now were not the ones she was allied with herself. They were not the people Alek allied himself with. Or even Ismael or that poor kid that he had turned in his rampage when he'd been freed.

He was sure she could sense the difference in him. It was hard to miss. Before, he'd been just a volatile lycan. Now he was something different, something more of a monster than a beast or a man. And he would still say that he had done it for her. Because he had. That was all that played in his head as he had given his blood to the book, as he had let that monster take a hold of his body enough to transform him. He could remember the pain and everything that came with it. Immortality was finally in his grasp though. And what was the cost of it all? Probably Circe. That was the only regret that he had. She was stood in front of him as he sat on the couch, hands covering his mouth. He couldn't quite look up at her. How long they had been here, he wasn't sure, but it took a lot for him to try and figure out how to explain any of this. There were only a few words that could leave his mouth now. "I'm so sorry."

[lorianbladeoflothric]

I wonder how much Radagon actually loved his kids and if the part of him that loved them was bigger than the part of him that was dedicated to Marika and how badly those parts clashed against each other when Ranni was declared an Empyrean.

Because whether or not he was there the last time there was a new empyrean he knows how that ended, and he probably knows how hard it was to defeat her when she'd already raised an army and fully come into her power.

[pkyree]

" ¿quieres hacer un tour por los stands de comida conmigo? " / ( @cirvces )

se le quedó viendo a los ojos castaños de la pelinegra por unos segundos. " me encantaría. " no pudo evitar la sutil sonrisa complacida que surge en sus labios, iluminándole el rostro. se relame los labios para controlarle. " ¿a cuál te gustaría ir primero? "

[tewwor-moving]

✧･ﾟ mythology interaction call ( accepting ) | @uroborosymphony ･ﾟ✧

Hawk-yellow eyes pierce where they land. From the lolling landscape to her conversational counterpart, Circe regards the other with a near indecipherable expression. Shrewd, certainly, but withholding of everything else.

"How does your divinity feel?" A deceptively simple question, that. Echoes in verbatim — passed from one mouth to another and now to them. She remembers her own clawing answer all too well. The desperation to understand the league of which Aeëtes secured foothold. The longing to truly be of the same ilk. To be seen and understood with the barest shred of compassion.

[lucipk]

" mmh, no estoy segura. si no lo fuese, ¿para qué darse la molestia? " viró los ojos pensativa, acariciando el extremo de su trenza izquierda. ese "probablemente" le hacía dudar por completo de lo que la morena sabe al respecto. " bueno... para ti debe ser muy sencillo esto. " tenía la oportunidad de conocerla y saber que esto debe parecerle un juego de niños. dudaba que lo entendiera. " dime las que necesitas, y yo te digo las que necesito. " agarra su bolso y busca el sobre dentro. @cirvces

atención se encuentra fija en entorno, como si estudio general de los presentes fuese a darle un camino directo a victoria de aquella actividad. interrogante, por supuesto, logra colisionar con sentido común, llevándola a encontrar rostro femenino, notando finalmente presencia ajena en periferia. ' probablemente no lo sea. ' o eso espera, considerando que aquello se desliga completamente de ámbito académico. ' no, estoy bien. ' ademán de mano parece ser suficiente para enfatizar negativa, pero interés sigue puesto sobre ella. ' ¿qué polaroid tienes? ' indaga.

[angelanderson]

inside abby anderson’s camera roll

fluff, some suggestive themes. mdni! saw @circe-is-struggling did an ellie one n i’m obsessed! edited-ish

⭐️⭐️⭐️

a picture of ellie, you, and her’s camping set up for your annual camping trip. she brings extra bug spray after last year. a .5 of you all around the campfire is the next picture.

a video ellie secretly recorded of the both of you slow dancing at someone’s wedding. the last frame a blurry clip of you reaching up to abby’s face to kiss her.

exactly 207 pictures of her dog. half of them are on the long walks to beautiful places that abby takes him, matching bandanas included.

a picture of abby’s back all scratched up after she demanded you tested out your newest nail set on her one night.

a picture of your hand-written grocery list. she doesn’t want to forget anything after you cried after your favorite treat was forgotten along with pasta. it was a rough day, okay?

an entire folder made of pictures and videos of her working out, her progress, and your favorite: post-workout mirror pictures.

a video of her and ellie’s matching halloween party’s costume. ellie is seen shoving abby as she starts reciting broke back mountain dialogue, in honor of the costume.

a now digitalized photo of child abby grinning ear-to-ear with her dad when it was bring your child to work day.

a homemade video the two of you decided to make one night after having to be away from each other for two weeks. you both watch it on on the nights you’re needy and missing each other as a way to hold you over.

a screenshot of all the times she has beat ellie in their favorite video game. she frequently sends it to ellie as a way to teasingly piss ellie off.

a picture of her grinning while wearing a crown after winning a cup pong tournament. the sunset glows in the back as it took place on a lowkey beach mel had found weeks before.

her lock screen photo. a picture of you in one of her button down work shirts, length reaching close to your knees. you’re curled up on her side of bed, cleaning missing her, even in your sleep. the phone was taken seconds before she joins you in bed.

[gotstabbedbyapen]

Apollo/Hyacinthus and the god - mortal power imbalance (and how they have little to none of it)

A common argument against god/mortal relationships in Greek mythology is the uncomfortable power dynamic, that the god will always have a glaring power leverage over the mortal. Even if the god is fond of their lover, just one wrong move and still put the mortal in danger, intentionally or not. And I don't discard that.

Zeus and Poseidon's conquests didn't always consider the consent of the women they bedded. Aphrodite threatened her lover Anchises that if he were to reveal her as the mother of his son, he would be punished. Circe was fond of Odysseus, but their coupling was very coercive and Odysseus didn't feel safe around her; and if you're still adamant that Odysseus willingly became Calypso's bedmate, I will assume you're projecting your CNC fetish to the myth. Even Apollo, the god we'll be talking about, had intentionally or unintentionally had his lover Coronis killed in a fit of jealous rage.

And now we have Apollo and Hyacinthus, an Olympian god and a Spartan prince in a relationship with pederastic nature. Right off the bat, it's easy to call them problematic because of the age gap and power balance like the previous couples, and I've written a debunking post about the age gap allegation before. Now I want to talk a bit about the power imbalance between them.

While we didn't really know if all of Zeus and Poseidon's mortal love loved them back and knew for sure that Odysseus was terrified of the goddesses that held him captive, it was recorded that Hyacinthus was just as in love and openly chose Apollo:

Zeus himself told Eros that Hyacinthus was fond of Apollo.

Then why are Branchus and Hyacinth so fond of Apollo? (Dialogues of the Gods 6, Lucian)

Hyacinthus was also admired by Zephyrus, but he turned the god away for Apollo.

He [Zephyrus] had long been in love with Hyakinthos, though Hyakinthos would have nothing to say to him. (Dialogues of the Gods 16, Lucian)

Hyacinthus rejoiced at Apollo's sweet promises of love and companionship.

The son of Leto for love of the youth promises to give him all he possesses for permission to associate with him [...] The youth keeps his eyes steadfastly on the ground, and they are very thoughtful, for he rejoices at what he hears and tempers with modesty the confidence that is yet to come. (Imagines 14, Philostratus the Younger)

In the same scene in Philostratus' book, after giving the promises, it was also suggested that Apollo waited for Hyacinthus to answer. For all we know, Apollo could have just taken Hyacinthus away for his own pleasure, but no, he still gave him a choice.

Here is the god, painted as usual with unshorn locks; he lifts a radiant forehead above eyes that shine like rays of light, and with a sweet smile he encourages Hyakinthos, extending his right hand with the same purpose. (Imagines 14, Philostratus the Younger)

Remember the previous excerpt were Hyacinthus rejoiced at Apollo's promises? He was also filled with confidence when facing the god. Even though he's a powerful deity, Apollo didn't make Hyacinthus feel fear or inferior.

For comparison, this is how Hyacinthus behaved when he was with Apollo...

[Hyacinthus] stands there [...] and he supports his right hand on a spear, the hip being thrown forward and the right side exposed to view, and this bare arm permits us to describe what is visible [...] his neck is moderately erect [...] (Imagines 14, Philostratus the Younger)

Then, when the youth and Phoebus were well stripped, and gleaming with rich olive oil, they tried a friendly contest with the discus. [...] Heedless of danger Hyacinthus rushed for eager glory of the game, resolved to get the discus. (Metamorphoses 10, Ovid)

... and this is how Odysseus behaved when he was with Circe (quotes were taken from the Odysseus post)

[...] just approaching the halls of Circe, my heart a heaving storm at every step, paused at her doors, the nymph with lovely braids— I stood and shouted to her there. She heard my voice, she opened the gleaming doors at once and stepped forth, inviting me in, and in I went, all anguish now… (The Odyssey 10, Homer)

[...] but I went up to that luxurious bed of Circe, hugged her by the knees and the goddess heard my winging supplication: "Circe, now make good a promise you gave me once— it’s time to help me home [...]" (The Odyssey 10, Homer)

While Odysseus was frightful when approaching Circe and had to beg her for favors, Hyacinthus was seen to be very open when he was around Apollo. Although I don't know why Hyacinthus was depicted to be holding his spear when talking with Apollo, I don't think he was being defensive against him. I interpreted it as Hyacinthus feeling comfortable enough with Apollo that he didn't feel the need to discard his weapon and grovel at the god's presence, he can keep it as he like because Apollo wouldn't mind his attitude.

Aside from the mutual attraction and consent, Apollo also humbled himself for Hyacinthus and not minding in displaying acts of service even as a god (though to be fair, he took care and spoiled a lot of his lovers in the same way)

And the love my father had for you was deeper than he felt for others. Delphi center of the world, had no presiding guardian, while the God frequented the Eurotas and the land of Sparta, never fortified with walls. His zither and his bow no longer fill his eager mind and now without a thought of dignity, he carried nets and held the dogs in leash, and did not hesitate to go with Hyacinthus on the rough, steep mountain ridges; and by all of such associations, his love was increased. (Metamorphoses 10, Ovid)

Another addition I'd like to add is the fragments of a supposedly lost work that described Apollo placing his bow or lyre at Hyacinthus' feet as a suppliant, which you can check out its post here.

In conclusion, despite being a god/mortal couple with a pederastic relationship, the myths had shown that Apollo and Hyacinthus had insignificant power imbalance in their dynamic. There's no denying that they both loved and respected each other very much, trying to make things work despite the difference in nature between them. And now you understand why I'm so not normal about this OTP.

Thank you for reading, and you can go home now.

[gigizetz]

Little comic based on a dialogue from the book Circe

[nashalbrecht]

More distance was placed between them and it made it easier for him to accept the words that had just left his mouth. It didn't help with the words that had left her own, but it would have to. Because he wasn't going to keep doing this over and over again. Nash could get over her killing him. She had done what she thought was necessary. He wouldn't have been able to do the same, but he wouldn't have ever had to think about such a thing. Circe was better than him and he was just someone scraped off of the bottom of the barrel. Maybe he'd be more than that one day. He already was given this gift he had been given. Then again, he was sure that he was the only person that would see something like having a fiend inside of them as a gift.

His mouth opened to possibly call her back, to tell her not to leave, to say he hadn't meant those words he had spoken. Yet he closed it immediately and remained silent. Brows furrowed as she spoke of him being deserving. It was a lie. He wasn't deserving of anything but what he could take for himself. Nash had made sure of that. And people were not amongst that category. Circe was not amongst that category. So, instead of saying anything, he shook his head and walked away.

END.

It would be the same song and dance, the thought that Circe were some divine creature that would be tainted by his touch. That he would mar some saintly quality about her. Oh, how she hated it. How she despised this very idea of her. As if she were not capable of destruction, devastation. Her gaze focused upon him as the words settled in, eyes narrowed despite his confession. Nashoba loved her, he had for the many years that they had known each other. And he had risked everything for her. Yet, here he stood, with the want for her to go. To leave him behind for some idea of something better just beyond.

"No," the word slipped out only after a moment of silence, of careful consideration to his words. "That is not something that I know." Words spoken deliberately so that he understood the truth behind them. Circe was no divine creature, despite the divinity that coursed through her blood. She had acted out of jealousy, out of anger and rage; she had destroyed lives for the sake of her own want. Nashoba needed to know that he could not taint her anymore than she had done herself. "I will go," words followed up as she stepped back, distance strengthened between them. "But I will leave you with the thought that you have always been deserving."

[mari-thesapphic-lady]

Agathario pregnancy dialogues prompts:

-

(I had a lot of fun writing this, I have a lot of ideas about my fanfic and this is a way to share it with you. I haven't posted it yet, I'll probably do it only in November. In the meantime, enjoy these little pieces. It's my own view, but I thought flipping some things around would be funny and it made me think a lot about certain possibilities.)

Note: That's all based on my own fanfiction. Kind an epilogue thing.

Pregnancy dialogues:

“So... you're going to have a child?” “We’re going.” “Oh. Okay. Wait what?!”

“Look, if you don't want it, I can just, you know, make it disappear.” “No! No way! It's mine too!”

“So... no true form for nine months?” “Unfortunately.”

“What if it's a boy?”

“What if it's a girl?”

“NO BABY SHOWER.”

“I'm just going to collect a soul, Agatha.”

“You'll do a good job.” “Thanks.”

“I have a human growing inside of me, I'm not fine.”

“It's a cozy place. A few runes here and there and, there you go, home sweet home!”

“I feel so emotional, I need a slap to stop me crying. Sweetheart!”

“Stomach bug?” “Worse, morning sickness.”

“I'll take that.” “Hey!” “No knife playing for you!”

“My boobs hurt, I can't stop crying and I'm horny all the time, which isn't so bad, but I'm sweating in places I didn't even know humans had sweat glands!”

“Come home to me when you're done.” “Home? I like the sound of that.”

“I know it's the hormones talking, but you’re pissing me off.”

“I'm in the garden, and I don't want to be disturbed!”

“Oh, the neutral face of displeasure. What have I done this time?”

“Nothing fits me.” “Don’t say that, you look fantastic, cariño!”

“WHAT DO YOU MEAN BY BABIES?”

“Troublesome twins, mi vida!”

“Agatha, sweetheart, I love you, but if this kids gets your hips I will murder you.”

“Aww, they already look so much like me!” “Agatha! They're symphoning magic! From the womb!”

“I'd say I'm officially pregnant now.” *patting her growing belly gently*

“I've never seen you sleep for so long. I almost thought you were dead but you're Death, so.”

“I'm pregnant, not fashion-senseless. I refuse to wear these clothes.”

“You have been throwing up for hours, I'll make you some tea. Maybe it help.”

“It's enough you trying to kill me sometimes, I don't need the kids on the list.”

“WHAT'S THIS?!” “... a body?” “Not that! Look at you!”

"I don't even know how to change a diaper!"

“Kicking already?!”

“You're clingy.” “As you used to say, It's just the hormones.”

“Can we try the 'having sex to try and induce labor' thing?”

“I'm excited to see you changing a lot of dirty diapers in the near future.”

“I have stretch marks now.” “Keep them, looks good on you.”

“Nicky would love to be a big brother.”

“Using my sentences against me?” “Feels good, doesn't it?!”

“I'm craving sunflower seeds.” “Hun, you just had a huge cherry tart.” “I don't see your point, Aggie.”

“I have to do my job, Agatha!” “Fuck your job! You're carrying our offspring! Think about them! About us!”

“Do you think these babies were a mistake?”

“I think, this could be a second chance for us.”

“Do you think they'll be afraid of me? The real me?” “They're going to love you completely, cariño, just like I do.”

“Winifred? Circe? Agnes?” “Ugh, definitely none of those.”

“Since when do you paint? Wait- that's me? Uh, I look big.”

“What's the reaction of the souls you collect seeing Lady Death with a seven-month bump?”

“I'm not obligated to socialize with other pregnant women every time I go out! Why they don't stop talking too me?!”

“The bump is in the way, we can't have sex.”

“Your kids have been kicking me all day!” “Oh, so they're mine now?”

“How many babies are we having? There is enough clothes for a 100 of them.” “It never hurts to be prepare.”

“I think I'm in labor.”

“You're doing great, cariño, great.” “You aren't helping me!”

“Make it stop!” “Shh, you're almost, they're almost here.”

“Hiya, hun. It's me, your mama.”

“Look at these fingers, sweetheart, how can they be real? They're so, so tiny. Is it normal?” “It's normal, love, twins are just that tiny. Here, hold her.”

Babies/Toddlers dialogues:

“They look identical to you!” “I don't know what you're talking about, that mouth isn't mine.”

“Mami’s got you.”

“Who’s the cutest babies in the world? You are! Yes, you are!”

“I don't remember you pushing this babies out.”

“Oh we do make cute babies.”

“How many coffees is that?” “You try having two babies who refuse to sleep.”

“I'm not afraid of anything.” *twins start crying at the same time* “Maybe one thing.”

“Take a break. I’ll stay up with them.”

“So… the girls are fine, I want you to know that first, they're absolutely fine.” “What did you do?”

“If they won’t stop crying in a minute I think I am going to start crying.”

“Wakey wakey sunshine, it's your turn to change one of them.”

“I’ve never heard her cry like that..” “I tried to keep her calm but, she's missing you.”

“You have your mama's eyes, muñequita.”

“And she stopped me and asked me if I was going to take the girls to be baptized. Can you believe it?!”

“I took a baby's soul today. She was months old, like our girls.”

“Look how cute, they're crawling!”

“I hate sleep. I hate feeling sleepy. I hate sleeping.” “Yes, yes, cariño, now go to bed.”

“They're smiling...” “I told you, they'd never be afraid of you.”

“Stop wiggling! I need to get you changed!”

“If you lay a hand on my child you will lose the hand.”

“Skull lovers. Really take after your mama.”

“Hush little baby, don’t say a word, mama has a headache and your crying hurts.”

“Are you day drinking?” “It’s lemonade, not whiskey.”

“Please don’t vomit on me. Please don’t vomit on me. Please don’t… You vomited on me.”

“You're dripping blood everywhere!” “Sorry, is there a place you'd prefer I stand and bleed?” “The bathroom. It's easier to clean up and to keep the girls away.”

“Don’t give your mama too much trouble.”

“Nah-ah-ah, do not eat that, hun!”

“No daycare, Agatha, there's no way! It's the third time in the week that she ripped out an animal's soul, imagine a child!”

��Whiskey, brandy, wine or water?” “Pour me a glass of water and I may be one leaving this time.”

“Come on little one, walk over to mama!”

“Mami, ma-mi.” “Mami!” "... Agatha, she said mami first!"

“Throw your food around one more time and there will be consequences!”

“How did she get there?” “Get down from there little lady!”

“Come on, hon-” “No.” “Pero, muñequita-” “No, mami!”

“I already want one more.” “Let's see how we're handling these two.”

“Te amo!” “... Did she just?”

“Don’t, don't run, honey, you'll fall– I warned you.”

“Di mami, ma-mi.” “Mami!” “Eso, muy bueno, mi chiquita!”

“Cariño, she's unwittingly torturing a squirrel's soul again.”

“Fuck!” “Fuck.” “Nooo. Don’t repeat that, it’s a naughty word. Your mama won't like it.” “... Fuck!”

“Please never become one of the angry teens in the sitcoms.”

“Sweetheart, catch her! She ran away from the bathtub again!”

 “That's a grown-up grimoire, sweetie, why don’t you hand this to me. Yea, that's right, carefully-”

“Mami's bony face!” “Ey, chiquita- Stop laughing, Agatha.”

“Okay, time to sleep.” “ ’nother story?” “Sweetie, I just read you a story.” “Witch's Road!” “Witch's Road!” “Ugh fine, you win, the story or the ballad?”

“You know, i’m kind of surprised your children aren’t seriously injured at this point with you two being their parents.” “Haha, yeah… yet.” “What do you mean not yet?”

“My daughters are more talented in magic than me and they're only two years.”

“It’s your turn, go on.” “They’re your daughters before four o’clock in the morning.”

“My little girl’s better than yours!” “It's not a competition.” “Who said?”

“Mama! Look at me!” “Yes, hun, wh- WHAT THE FUCK?”

“Girls, let go of my dagger, mama won't like this.”

“Fine, fine, rock, paper, scissors to see who has to go calm down her.”

“I don't know how I survived with you cooking.” “Is this how you thank me?” “For burnt pancakes? Yes.”

“Was she crying, because of this?!” “Looks like someone's attached to mami's bony face.”

“Purple!” “Yeah, muñequita, it's mommy's watercolor, spread on the couch.”

“I've caught her watching you when you're outside and I think she's been shy about asking you to take it with you to the garden. You could probably let her help you with your garden.” “She’s just two, Aggie. What if she eats dirt, or worse, the flowers?”

“Agatha, I swear— If we have a child while the others are in diapers I will murder you.” “Why are you saying that?” “I'm feeling something, probably maternal intuition.”

It's probably not what many of you expected, but I always think it's cute to imagine Rio, who's Lady Death, Death itself, giving birth, you know?

Living all this confusion and mess that's pregnancy. It would be cute and funny, the effects of pregnancy on someone considered as powerful as Rio, all the dilemmas of motherhood, after all those centuries, after losing Nicky, and after the pain she and Agatha felt. It's not like I think pregnancy fixes or saves a relationship, that's not the baby's job, who has no responsibility for being there and existing, it's the parents' job to understand each other, and that's exactly what I wanted to explore with agathario here. A few domesticity years and a few adorable daughters.

This all takes place in 2009, and I'm still going to write about them during this period of pregnancy, and probably when the twins were little too.

-

AAA's full of angst but let's see the happy side of all!

We gained so much with them, and I LOVE this couple so much, they made history!

So let's enjoy a little and save our tears before the last episodes!

[protagaster]

Part 3 of the Warrior!Penelope Swap AU

Do you guys have any idea what I've been through this past week!?

Here I am in the middle of this vignette, wondering how I can write Ares' abilities so they are not copies of Athena's powers while also staying canon-compliant, when out of nowhere Mr. Jalapeño himself releases more details regarding Epic!Ares!?

I was both extremely happy (as my fic continues to be canon-compliant) and very much exhausted (you guys have no idea how much I had to change in order for it to match Jorge's canon)

With that out of the way, hope you all enjoy part 4! I'm so glad to introduce to you all one of my favorite Greek Gods ;)

[Appropriate Credits: @gigizetz, for it is Gigi's variation of warrior!penelope that I picture whilst writing this AU.

Also, special shoutout to @somereaderinblue (GeminiWillow on Ao3)! Blue's lyrical rewrites helped shape the dialogue!]

(Cross-Posted on Ao3)

EDIT AS OF (10/24) - I changed the title of this vignette, and so the lyrics were also changed to both sound better and more naturally fit the themes of the story! Hope you all enjoy!

Warrior of The Heart

Penelope knew that in order to successfully lead her comrades home she had to be more than a captain. More than a queen even. No, what Penelope needed to be was a warrior.

A warrior of the heart.

However, as with all mortals, there are moments where she needs to be reminded of who she’s meant to be. 

And who better to remind her than her own mentor… 

~

Penelope and Circes had just about finished up on the lotus eaters’ island. 

After the emotional conflict and resolution they had faced moments ago, the two women decided a light rest was necessary before sailing their raft back to the main ship. Upon their return Penelope would be sure to inform the others of the cave the lotus-eaters had revealed. 

Looking up from where she sprawled, Penelope saw Circes playing with one of the little lotus-eating creatures. Despite the danger the captain initially thought them to be, they were actually quite helpful (not to mention a little cute). 

She was glad Circes convinced her not to resort to violence. 

This resolution with the lotus eaters proved that peaceful solutions were an option and did achieve results. It proved that cruelty and success did not go have to go hand-in-hand. It proved that, when left to make a decision of her own will, Penelope would go for the one that displayed kindness and mercy. 

It proved that without the Gods’ intervention Penelope was not a monster.

That was a thought that gave her an immediate sense of comfort, even if it was a relatively selfish one. 

Maybe, just maybe, it really was better to greet the world with open arms…

Suddenly, Penelope felt her mind and senses tingle with anticipation. 

A very familiar dose of adrenaline rushed through her body, traveling to the very core of her soul. Time around her began to gradually slow, her thoughts and reactions starting to increase in speed. 

Penelope blinked, this action lasting only for a second. 

Upon re-opening her eyes she found she was no longer on the island. Instead she stood in a sandy plain, reminiscent of the Trojan battlefields she had fought in not too long ago. Circes, the lotus eaters, even the thoughtless creatures of nature and the night, they were all gone. The only thing Penelope could see, apart from miles of endless dark sand, was a red hourglass floating above her. 

The hourglass was tilted precariously, dangling over a metaphorical edge. But if one were brave enough to look beyond it's glass frame they'd notice a faint, distorted halo circling above it; dangling from that halo was an invisible pendulum, dancing constantly in circles a safe distance away from the instrument.

Everything around her was silent, leaving Penelope to hear only the sounds of individual grains of red sand streaming down the hourglass

Until the call of a vulture screeched from above.

Looking up, Penelope saw the carnivorous bird circling over her similar to how a normal vulture would. He was covered with majestic brown feathers, the tips colored a deep red akin to the aftermath of a victorious battle. He had an array of feathers atop his head, formed in such a manner that it almost looked as if he wore a war-man’s helmet. 

Looking at the vulture from a distance it would appeared as if his eyes were void of thoughts and emotion. However, if one dared to look closely enough, they could see the fowl had the gaze of a man; one eager to stain the ground with blood. 

A voice boomed inside Penelope’s head, coming from nowhere and everywhere. 

“Have you forgotten the lessons I taught you?” 

“Ares!” 

The bird continued to circle her person, coming closer and closer with each flap of his daunting wings. 

“Have you forgotten to close off your heart? This is not you!” 

The vulture was finally within reaching distance to Penelope. His talons, sharp and glinting in the moonlight, were dangerously close to her flesh; If he really wanted to, he could dangerously maim, or possibly even kill, the woman with a simple dive and strike. 

Still, despite knowing what he was capable of, Penelope knew she was safe. In spite of his label as nothing more than a bloodthirsty brute to the majority of Greece, she was one of the few who knew his true nature. 

His lust for blood revealed itself only to those deserving of it. 

But that was not to say she was completely off the hook in this situation

“I see you changing from how I've designed you!” 

The vulture landed on the sand not too far from where she stood. Though much smaller in size, for the moment, his presence alone very much made up for it. It was quick to make itself known to Penelope, rattling her deep to her very core. 

“Have you forgotten your purpose? Let me remind you…” 

With a flash the vulture set before Penelope was no more. 

Standing in its place was a very large, very intimidating man, in both height and figure. 

This man was taller and stronger than any mortal man could ever hope to be. His arms and legs, thrice the size of a normal male, proudly displayed the tell-tale scars of a warrior with experience. He adorned red and gold greek armor, its design a natural mix of traditional Spartan origin with recent additions of Ithacan influence. His helm, a golden one with a deep red plume, very clearly symbolized what he himself represented to Sparta and what the kingdom meant to him. 

This helm covered the entirety of his upper face, the only features left clearly revealed being his nose and mouth. Shadows in the place of his eyes were displayed to the outside world, but the emotions behind them were masked to all who dared to gaze. 

“Master of Courage, God of the War,” 

A magnificent glowing spear, Ares’ signature weapon, manifested inside his hand. 

“My life has one mission…” 

Ares thrust the spear-point in Penelope’s direction. An outsider might have thought his intent was to kill her. Thankfully, all he wanted was to place the blunt end of the spear-point on her shoulder.

“Create the greatest warrior!”

Using his divine power as a war God, Ares performed his signature “quick-thought” and dove into Penelope’s mind. Momentarily one, the God sifted through Penelope’s life experiences until he found the memory he wanted her to recall. 

~

Penelope remembered that day as if it were yesterday. 

About 20 years ago, having barely entered her teenage years, a young Penelope had been asked by her father to accompany him to Ares’ challenge: the magic hunting field.

“I had a challenge, a hunting field, a divine spear only the best could wield!” 

The magic hunting field, created with the aid of the Goddess of the Hunt, was a challenge orchestrated to see which mortal was worthy of pulling a divine spear, created by the God of Forging, out the earth. Once that mortal took hold of the spear they were to honor Ares by spilling as much wild blood as they could in His name.

Whoever was able to wield the spear, if anyone could manage such a feat, would be blessed by the God of Courage himself. 

Penelope remembered her younger self feeling quite uncomfortable. She was never able to forget what her father tried to do to her as a babe, despite trying to desperately make up for it by being so affectionate toward her; something he continued to do to this day. 

However, despite her hesitation, Penelope also recalled feeling elated. 

Sparta was a kingdom that believed all their people should at least be familiar with the art of combat, females included. The great kingdom had influenced a few other lands in Greece to adopt this progressive mindset, with others well on their way. 

But even then, that day in the hunting field was one of the first times that women were allowed to participate in a challenge set forth by the Gods.

“One day a girl came for the thrill,”  

That young Penelope, eager to prove herself to both the world and her father, was determined to show that she could be both a lady of the court and a soldier of the battlefield.

It was one of the many qualities that intrigued her to Ares in the first place. 

“A girl whose heart rivaled the spear’s own will!” 

Penelope did not know it at the time, but the random spear buried in the dirt that she just happened to pull out on a whim would catch her the eye of the God of War himself. 

And he only found himself growing more and more impressed with each wild game whose blood she spilled in his name. 

“Let’s go!” 

By the final hour of that day young Penelope had proved herself to be a more formidable hunter than any of the numerous young men who tried to prove themselves worthy. Not only had she offered Ares a pleasing amount of blood, but she had ensured her carnage was not without purpose. 

She distributed the pelts of fur and rounds of meat amongst her fellow hunters in an act of goodwill.  Penelope even gave a sizable chunk of boar and a beautiful wolf pelt to her father despite her reservations toward him, most likely as some sort of thank you for allowing her to come. 

Half of the hunting field’s participants were appreciative of her kindness and impressed with her physical prowess; these people consisting of her father, the few other female hunters, and the men who knew there to be great merit in empowering a young lady beyond what was expected of her.

The others, men who were angry by the fact they were bested by a mere little girl and longed to put her in her place, could only accept their peace offerings with strained smiles and wicked eyes. Still, despite their irritation, these men knew they could not do a damn thing about it; for they were in Ares’ land, and one does not dare harm a young lady under the Protector of Women’s gaze without longing for an excruciating death. 

Regardless of how her spectators felt with the matter, everyone knew that the girl had gained the very thing they all were hoping to obtain: the blessing of Ares. 

“Maybe one day she'll follow me and we'll make a greater tomorrow, then they'll see I know she'll change the world 'cause she is a Warrior of the Heart!”

As the day’s events unfolded a mysterious vulture, one bigger and more sublime than a vulture should be, flew into the scene. He fit in perfectly with the background of the field. 

No one had noticed this vulture watching the young Princess of Sparta since the moment she first stepped foot on the field. 

“Maybe one day I'll reach her and we can build her skills as I teach her. If there’s a problem she’ll know to act first,”

Penelope, her father, and their guards had stayed in that field until nightfall. The exhaustion behind the day’s events claimed the girl with an instantaneous sleep, though this was of no surprise to her loving father. 

The vulture followed the young girl even while she and her entourage made their way back home. Upon arrival at the palace gates King Icarius carefully carried his daughter inside. However, the princess had not yet been fully claimed by sleep. 

Feeling the presence of someone watching her, Penelope looked up from her father’s shoulder. 

Right there, perched on a tree branch just outside the gates, was the brown and red vulture. The same one that was watching her back in the magic hunting field. 

Penelope’s eyes never left the vulture, even as she was carried inside. 

“She is a Warrior of the Heart!” 

Later that night, the Princess of Sparta snuck out of her room. 

She ran outside the confines of her palace, an easy thing to accomplish with the secret exit she and her siblings shared amongst themselves. Penelope then made her way to the large clump of trees behind the royal palace, not necessarily a forest but more grand than a grove. 

Penelope looked around, searching for the vulture that followed her all the way from the hunting field. She gazed from treetop to treetop, gawked from branch to branch, and even tried to search for any dead carrion that may have resulted from its hunger. 

But alas, nothing. 

… 

Well, not entirely… 

Penelope just knew something, or perhaps rather someone, was watching her. She could feel their eyes. 

“Show yourself.” Penelope searched in every direction, hoping she could finally catch sight of the mysterious presence. “I know you're watching me, show yourself.” 

Still nothing. 

Unbeknownst to the young girl, a large man was watching her from nearby. If he were a normal man Penelope would have spotted him the second she snuck out; however, this man was anything but. 

He had covered himself with a special spell, a divine air that made it so he and his kin could roam the earth without being seen by mortals. He needed to use this spell if he wanted to continue discreetly watching the girl, for it seemed she had recognized his animal form to be more than met the eye. 

The divinely-clouded man watched as the girl continued to whirl her head around in search. Finally she stopped, most likely giving up is what the man thought. 

But then, and much to his surprise, the girl smirked. Because her back was turned to him the man could not see the mischievous glint in her eyes. 

“I can see you.” 

The man grew stunned, quick to remove the divine mist that shielded him from mortal eyes. 

“How can you see through my spell?”

“Aha!” Penelope whirled around at his voice, hands on her hips in triumph. “I was lying and you fell for my bluff. Hahahaha.” 

The man’s eyes grew wide behind his helm, astounded with the bravery and daring of the tiny human before him. Many of his kind would have found themselves insulted at being so easily deceived by a mortal, especially one so young and feminine. 

This man, though, was unlike his kin in many ways. He saw no offense, but untapped potential…

Wearing a smile, the man approached little Penelope with not a single hint of hostility in his step. 

“Not bad, enlighten me, what's your name?”

Penelope raised her eyebrow at his question. She crossed her arms over her chest and turned her head away in a playful motion that betrayed her supposed suspicion. 

“You first, and maybe I'll do the same.”

The man, while not known for his patience, found it no trouble to entertain the child’s stubbornness. He was, after all, no stranger to the whims of daughters. 

“Nice try, but two can play this game.”

Penelope silently scrutinized the giant man, quick to note how his carefree personality did not match his intimidating appearance. Based on this observation any normal human would have assumed him to be just another man of Sparta, albeit much bigger compared to the rest and most likely blessed by the Gods. 

But alas, Penelope never did fall into the category of “normal”. She knew this man was no mortal simply blessed by another God. 

“Nah, you’ve got me wrong, I'm aware you're a God, let’s drop the facade…” 

Allowing herself to beam a smile, Penelope revealed to the man a truth she had already known since first becoming aware of his presence. 

“Your name is Ares!”

Ooh, Ares

“Badass in war, you carry! Unmatched, Fearless, and very much King of the Battlefield!”

Ares was already impressed with the girl based on what he had seen back in his magic hunting field. This moment, though, of her being able to surmise his identity with barely any clues to help her only further improved his impression of her. 

Looks like his challenge truly did end in a success. 

“If you're looking for a mentor I'll make sure your time's well spent.” 

Penelope had to stop herself from jumping with glee. A God, and not just any God either, but the patron deity of her kingdom and the personification of battle himself had just offered to take her, small and inexperienced Penelope, as a student! 

“Sounds like a plan! God and woman, Bestest of friends!" Penelope ran to embrace the God but instead phased right through him. 

“We'll see where it ends.” Ares answered in response to her attempted hug.

“Okay.” Penelope said undeterred, lifting herself back up as if nothing had happened.  

And with that the God and his mortal made their way back to her room. The memory may have concluded, but that moment forth led to a long and fruitful friend partnership. 

“Maybe one day they'll follow me, and we'll make a greater tomorrow,"

Ares would go on to watch over and advise his student. Sometimes he would take the appearance of a standard human male, posing as a Spartan guard trusted to keep the princess safe. Other times he would assume his vulture form, flying over Penelope and guiding her from the skies. Most times, though, Ares would shape himself into a small snake that wrapped around Penelope’s throat; conspicuous enough not to arouse suspicion but with just the right amount of menace to keep any adversaries from coming too close. 

"Then they'll see I know we'll change the world ‘cause we are the Warriors of the Heart!”

Ares and Penelope would spend a lot of their time together in training. The mortal learned how to properly wield a spear, handle a dagger, and even aim a bow. She learned that her feminine rage was a good thing and that setting it free could be beneficial at times. And, thanks to some advice from his loving partner, Ares found ways to help Penelope build up enough muscle to enhance her strength while also keeping her body just lithe enough for the sake of norms and appearances. 

“Maybe one day we'll reach them and we can build their skills as we teach them,"

And it did not stop at just his student either! 

Penelope was thankful to have married a husband who was so supportive of her endeavors and even wished to help her in achieving them. Ares was too, he supposed (even if he vehemently opposed the idea of marriage in the beginning). 

Penelope became the paragon of female warriors. She would lead and become a role model to the women willing to put themselves through even harsher training regimens than what the men in their lives partook in. In the beginning there were never a lot of women who were willing to learn, but as time went on more and more strove to push their limits. 

"If there's a problem, we'll know to act for we are the Warriors of the Heart!”

The point is over the years Penelope grew to be more than she ever thought she could be. She had shown the world that it was possible for a woman to be a formidable warrior while also staying true to her femininity (remember, Penelope was known all throughout Sparta and Ithaca for her immense talent in weaving). 

All of it thanks to the guidance of Ares. Of what he had allowed her to become. 

~

Back to the present, Ares was satisfied with the knowledge he wanted Penelope to recall. Enough to motivate her, but to also remind her of their goal. 

“I still intend to make sure you don't fall apart. Don't forget that you're a warrior made to be a work of art-” 

Even if she had learned almost all he could teach her, Penelope was still only a mortal. The Gods had only so many stories of what could happen when mortals are left to their own devices. 

And Ares couldn’t allow that to happen. Not after all the time he devoted into molding her. 

“You are a Warrior of the Heart!” 

Penelope, the current one, let out a sigh. 

Ares was right, of course he was right. As a God he knew best; he knew what needed to be done to accomplish his their ultimate goal. 

As his student it was her duty to heed his every command. For both their sakes. 

Seeing that she had taken his words to heart, Ares prepared to release her consciousness back to reality.

 Before he did though, the God gave her one more warning…

“Don't disappoint me.”

And with that he was gone, the only proof of his presence a cluster of vulture feathers carrying the scent of burnt torches and carrion.

The sandy landscape quickly faded, returning to the grassy thicket that was the lotus eaters’ island.

The top end of the red hourglass was practically empty, save for a lone grain of sand. That faint halo, the one holding the invisible pendulum, inched closer to the instrument. 

This single grain fell, joining the rest on the bottom of the glass. The Invisible pendulum swung a hair of a distance away from the sand clock’s glass, not quite close enough to crack but very close.

In a flash everything went back to how it was before. Circes, the lotus eaters, even nature itself, they all returned to their normal speed. It was as if nothing happened. 

Penelope let out a breath. They needed to get return. 

Now. 

[nashalbrecht]

closed starter for @xsorceressx​ location: outside çiçek note: thatsmywife.gif

It had been quite a long time since he had seen Circe. Once upon a time, she had been the only thing to keep him together when he felt like things had only gotten worse. Nash was thankful for her presence in his life ever since the whole thing with his wedding and then the rampage he went on after the fact. In all honesty, it was the only reason he was still around to this day so he didn’t feel any sort of remorse for any of the lives he had taken. They were still somewhat with him. Well, they had been at least. He had been sure the extended life he had was a second away from being over when he had been able to escape the Catacombs. Thankfully, he had gotten out just in time. Again, he felt no remorse for those lycans that had to suffer for him to achieve that immortality he so desperately craved. He had feasted and now he didn’t quite need them as much for a very long time, but that didn’t mean he was going to stop. A lycan had taken everything from him and he would make sure the lot of them all suffered. None of them were safe if they gave him a reason to put them on his shit list. One person that was never on that list was his dear Circe though. Hence why he was outside of this shop that was so very hers. He was leaned against the window, smoke blowing into the air above him, as she walked out the door. The sun had just set, but she still looked as beautiful as ever in the darkness. He hated to have to drag her down there with him. “Natural remedies to help the citizens of Rome,” he spoke aloud as he pushed off of the window to walk towards her. “Funny, us meeting like this.”

[goldninja91]

Get In the Water Detail

So, I noticed something interesting about the final bit of Get In the Water that I kinda wanted to share. When Odysseus started getting flashbacks again, they're noticeably different from every other flashback he's had of those characters.

Every time Polites sings after his death, it's always been the chorus of Open Arms, the core of his ideology. At first it was a source of inspiration for Odysseus to be kind to the world around him as a way to honor his deceased friend, but over time the phrase "Open Arms" became nothing more than a burden to him, reminding him of his first failure since the Trojan War that cost him his best friend.

Likewise, Eurylocus had one bit of dialogue before Get In the Water, the chorus of "Luck Runs Out," with him questioning Odysseus's methods and leadership, reminding Odysseus of the rest of his failures when being confronted by Calypso.

In the Underworld, all the soldiers cried out "Captain, captain" as a reminder of both the losses at the hands of Polyphemus and Poseidon, with several members of the crew dying.

HOWEVER...

It's switched around in Get In the Water. Instead of Polites telling Odysseus to greet the world with open arms, he instead just says "You can relax, my friend. I can tell you're getting nervous..." Almost as if he sees Odysseus running himself into the ground and just wants to look out for him. Or it could be Odysseus remembering that "Open Arms" wasn't the only piece of wisdom Polites offered him in trying times.

Eurylocus, in turn, says "Look at all we've lost and all we've learned." While it was originally said in a more negative context with him trying to convince his captain to leave Circe's island while they still could, here it's been framed as a way to motivate Odysseus, to literally remember "all he's learned."

His mom (Anticlea, I believe) says "I'll stay in your heart" as opposed to her "waiting" in Love in Paradise. When before she seemed so distant in waiting for her son, here she reminds Odysseus that she's always with him, despite her passing.

And finally, his crew. Instead of crying out to their captain in vain, they reprise their chorus of "Odysseus" from Different Beast. While against the sirens it was more framed as Odysseus no longer resembling the captain they'd once followed, it's taken new meaning here. They're no longer calling for their captain to save them. They're reaching out to their friend, their leader, their *king...* Odysseus.

What ultimately brought Odysseus to his lowest point a mere saga before is now what he uses as the strength he needs to keep moving forward, no matter what. To face down the impossible odds before him, and finally return home.