#daydream warrior au

[mizaruwu]

Dungeon meshi's elven earmuffs are so cute and ridiculous so of course I had to draw the chain wearing them

[alackofghosts]

squish the baby

[p-s-yokubo]

Hello everyone! Finally after months of writing I would like to introduce you to my giant Lego crossover fan fiction…

DAYDREAM WARRIOR

As I said above, Daydream Warrior is a big Lego crossover fic with Ninjago, Nexo Knights, Bionicle, and Hero Factory. (So basically all my favorites) It will be a series of different stories with characters and settings from all four worlds. There will be plots with both returning and new villains, some fun character stuff, and man it is so awkward for me to write out a “pitch” for the series so I’ll just show you the title and summary for the first story—

Jump Into the New World

Hero Factory has found out that mysterious monsters have been popping up on unknown planets around the galaxy, and now (like always) it’s their job to take them down and protect the people there. But unlike the other planets they’ve visited, these ones already have protectors, and now it’s the Heroes that need help from them to stop the Villain causing this conflict…

Read it on ao3 if you want :)

[harmonysanreads]

SUMERU LOVE HEXAGON THOUGHT: what If the boys found the reader singing? How would they react when they hear readers angelic voice??

As you might've already predicted, Wanderer has had that privilege more than anyone due to proximity. In the early days of you taking him under your care, you hummed and lulled him back to sleep after another night of nightmares. Your approach surprised him significantly, as his own creator had been perplexed by a puppet displaying emotions. But not that he minded, in fact, it'd only made him cling harder. He knows you have a habit of singing while cooking or any time you daydream. His favorite are the Inazuman tunes you learned through your travels, the sentiments they bring him now are admittedly angst ; but when through your voice, it's somewhat peaceful... nostalgic he daresay.

You'd thought Alhaitham wasn't listening because of his headphones and the accompanying book, the tavern was empty for once and the day had been nice. You'd almost pranced around singing to your heart's content that night and the Scribe had never listened more attentively in his life. Under the pretense of your own assumption, Alhaitham has heard you sing more than once. He thought about mentioning it one time as well, but refrained when he noticed why you sang. Alhaitham knows how to appreciate good music and he has no problem doing so silently. Yes, it's just well-natured appreciation even if he keeps a recorded version as supplement for the live.

There was once a time where Collei fell ill and you offered to take care of her while Tighnari attended to an emergency in the Avidya Forest. When he returned, he found Collei peacefully asleep with you by her side, humming a foreign tune. His original intention was to watch from the corner, but his sensitive ears and tail quickly gave him away. It seemed that he was more embarrassed at the prospect of getting caught eavesdropping, after all, he wouldn't want you to think of him as some sort of a weirdo. But thankfully, you didn't linger on the topic. He almost wanted to thank Collei for creating that opportunity but for that instance, he'd settled for complimenting your voice. One day, maybe one day, he'll gather the courage to ask you to sing for him.

The times a warrior truly feels at peace are few and far between, especially for one as uncompromising as Cyno. There are only a handful of things the General Mahamatra indulges in, your presence settling itself on that list day by day. While Cyno is relatively nonchalant towards the arts, even he can tell when something is truly remarkable. And when such an occurrence presents itself, he finds no reason to not let his appreciation be known. His blunt ‘you should sing more’ appeared to have flustered you to a degree he hadn't expected though. He remains firm in his stance, not understanding why you quickly fled the scene. As much as he doesn't get the reasoning behind your behavior, this chain of events only make him vow to himself that you'd never stop singing.

With each passing day, Kaveh wonders if you could be any less perfect. Just when he thinks he's seen it all or has gotten a grasp of the enigma that is you, you just throw the most delightful surprises his way. Kaveh knows of and appreciates your appreciation of the arts. But even the simplest practices seem to be amplified in their charm when done by you, cliché, but he couldn't care less. When intoxication occurs to the Architect, he usually feels more confident. But before you, even wine loses its lustre. With each new discovery, half of Kaveh falls even further and the other half curls in itself from insecurity. He doesn't deserve you, the Architect tells himself. Yet he cannot bring himself to let go, or stay away as your voice rings through his ears. You're perfect, to Kaveh at the very least but he couldn't help but dream how much more perfect it'd be if you sang only for him.

[ au masterlist ]

[protagaster]

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.

[holdmytesseract]

moodboard by @chennqingg <3

Through The Years

Jotun!King!Loki Laufeyson x fem!Æsir!Queen!Reader

Summary: This story takes you and Loki on a journey through the twins life. From their first steps all the way to their first time falling in love.

Warnings for this Chapter: fluff, tiny bit angst, babies!

Word Count: 2,1k

a/n: I know, I know, it took me a long time to finally post it... I hope y'all can forgive me. 🙈 Anyways, here it is! Enjoy! 🧡

This sequel is based on @eleniblue 's ideas. 😊

Divider by the lovely @fictive-sl0th

Tags: @muddyorbsblr @ijuststareatstuffhereok89 @chennqingg @smolvenger @alexakeyloveloki @theaudacitytowrite @jennyggggrrr @stupidthoughtsinwriting @eleniblue @vanilla-daydreaming @loz-3 @valencia-rou @mishkatelwarriorgoddess @fictive-sl0th @bunny24sstuff @iamlokisgloriouspurpose @lovingchoices14 @linaax @mochie85 @goblingirlsarah @glitchquake @lokidbadguy @icytrickster17 @gruftiela @lulubelle814 @mandywholock1980 @november-rayne @chantsdemarins @simping-for-marvel @lou12346789 @aagn360 @lokiforever @anukulee @multifandom-worlds @hisredheadedgoddess28 @km-ffluv @jaidenhawke @vbecker10 (Continuing in the comments)

❄️Chapter Two ❄️

Ice Flower AU Masterlist ❄ Loki Masterlist ❄ Masterlist

Chapter One - First Steps

"Over a year old, really?" You nodded with a smile, bouncing Áki gently on your arm. "Mhm. They are growing very fast." "My my..." The sweet and kind older lady said, shaking her head. "Time flies by." "Indeed."

Once in a while you would visit the city; go to the market place - mostly when there was a market, and talked to several citizens - bonding with your people. After all, you were their queen - and even though Loki did most of the royal duties, you wanted to do at least that. It became a tradition. Whenever you made your trips and talked to the Jotuns, you went alone. No guards. No Loki. Just you. You wanted them to see you as their queen, sure, but also as a normal woman, who is interested in their lives and wellbeing. Your husband didn't quite like it at first. Well, not the idea itself, rather that you were going alone - but you insisted. This time, though, you didn't go alone. You took Áki with you, while Váli was with his father. Both twins would've been a bit too much to take care of alone in the city with dozens of people. Especially now; given the fact that they were a few months over a year old now and therefore very quirky. Winter was luckily over and spring had just begun - so it wasn't that cold when you went to on your traditional trip.

"Can they walk already?" The female Jotun asked, looking adoringly at the baby boy in your arms, who enjoyed the sun on his face and played happily with the wooden warrior figure his father had gifted him. "Áki is on the verge of starting to walk. I think it won't take him very long anymore to get the nick of it. And Váli… He has just learned how to pull himself up on his feet, so... He needs a bit more time - which is totally fine." The woman smiled, causing you to smile as well. "My son took his time as well, but now he grew into a strong, healthy man. I do hope the princes are growing up strong and healthy, too. Thank you for your visit, your majesty." She curtsied, "I hope so, too. Thank you - and you are welcome." and gave you a last, sweet smile, before she redirected her attention back to her ice flowers.

After that conversation, you decided to call it a day, given the fact that you were quite tired and your son as well. "Let's head back home, Áki, shall we? Home to your brother and father?" The little boy smiled, ruby eyes shining. "Dada, Vava!" You giggled, pressing a kiss against his cerulean, chubby cheek and said your goodbyes to several Jotun's before you made your way back to the palace.

You spend the rest of the day alone with the twins, after you've been told that the king was indisposed, because of a stupid incident with one of the merchants, which supplied the kingdom.

After the night had swallowed Jotunheim and the princes were deep and fast asleep, you changed into your nightgown and read the book you found in the library yesterday; waiting for your husband to return. As it got very late and he still wasn't back, you decided to go to his study; looking after him. And that's what you did. Tip-toeing down the dimly lit hallways of the palace, until you reached the big, familiar door. You lifted your hand to knock; getting a quite annoyed and grumpy 'Yes?!' in return. Gently, you opened the door and peeked inside, finding Loki sitting at his desk, hunched over the table; one big hand rubbing his temple. He was stressed. You could tell that already. The fire in the fireplace crackled and creating a warm and cosy atmosphere.

"What is it now?! I-" Loki interrupted his harsh sentence as soon as his tired eyes landed on you. "Darling!" The rudeness in his voice was immediately gone. "Oh, what a sight for sore eyes!" You smiled, happy that you were able to make him smile. "Hello, my love," you said, rounding the desk to greet him. As soon as you were in reach, Loki stretched out his hands and pulled you immediately in his lap; sitting you down on his thick, strong thighs. You shrieked up in surprise, but giggled when he buried his face in the crook of your neck, literally inhaling your scent and holding you close. "I missed you, my flower... This day has been way too long..." "I missed you, too..." You ran your hand through his raven locks, causing him to relax even further into your body. "When is the king returning to his chambers, to join his wife in their marital bed?" A big sigh left Loki's lips. "Unfortunately, not yet. I have to finish this." You almost started to pout. "Can't this wait until tomorrow?" You felt him shaking his head. "I'm afraid not, my darling. I'm sorry." Now you were the one who sighed and just cuddled closer. You and Loki spent the next few minutes like that. Tangled up with each other, enjoying the other's closeness.

"Áki almost took his first step today." Your husband lifted his head, looking at you smiling and with a twinkle in his beautiful red eyes. Proudness. "Really?" "Mhm... Back in the city. When he was about to set one foot in front of the other, though, he lost the balance and fell on his bum." A sweet chuckle slipped past the Jotun's lips. "He's going to learn it in no time, I'm sure of it."

And Loki was proven right... Only two days later, the little prince took his first steps.

You, Loki and the twins were out for a little walk outside the palace; catching up on some precious family time and enjoying the first strong rays of the spring sun. No duties, no advisors, no guards - just the four of you.

Váli sat upon his father's shoulders, visibly delighted at the sight he had now; his eyes having so much to look at suddenly. Áki was in your arms, being very restless. He always wanted to be let down and move forward himself without your help. It was difficult at first, but you let him try and try and try, of course, always supporting him. On the third try, the little boy made it then. Holding on to both of your hands for dear life, he took his first three steps. "Yay!" You squealed excitedly. "Loki, look!" Your husband was walking quite a bit ahead with Váli, but turned at your words. A light-hearted, proud laugh rumbled through his chest and he smiled from ear to ear. "I told you, my love! I told you!" "You did!" You giggled, carefully helping Áki along. "You're doing so great, sweetheart. Mama's so proud of you - and Dada, too." At the sixth step, he cautiously let go of your hands, wanting to walk alone. You let him, of course. Loki came closer and squatted down, reaching out one hand. The other kept his other son safe and steady on his broad shoulders. Váli had his small hands buried inside his father's luscious curls. "Are you coming to daddy, little man?" And he did. Walking on very wobbly legs and almost falling two times, Áki reached the safety of his father's hand and arm after three small steps. Loki smiled broadly, scooped the small boy up in his free arm and peppered the soft cerulean skin of his face with kisses, causing Áki to squeal and giggle. You just smiled; loving to see Loki being a dad. He was perfect. Made to be a father - and a king.

About two weeks later decided Váli to take his first steps as well. You had put both boys down for the night; got yourself ready for the royal banquet and just wanted to check in on them a last time, before the caregiver was going to take over. To your sheer shock, you found Váli not inside his crib, but outside. A short wave of anxiety rocked your body; already afraid something happened to him, while climbing out of his bed. But then your brain caught up with the situation; eyes landing on the slightly damaged crib. Váli must've slipped through the gap in the wooden frame... You immediately made a mental note to get this fixed.

Shaking your head, you approached the little prince. "Sweetie, what are you doing, huh?" You spoke in a hushed voice, not to wake Áki. The little boy turned around to face you with a big smile on his lips. "Mamama!" He was standing on wobbly feet, holding on to his bed tightly. But when he saw you approaching, he suddenly let go, swaying dangerously for a moment (You were already on the verge of jumping forward to catch him and prevent him from crashing against the crib.) - and then he started to walk towards you, putting one foot in front of the other. You froze in motion; looking with awe at the toddler. Walking... He was walking! An audible gasp left your lips. "By the norns... Honey, you are walking!" You exclaimed excitedly - but as quiet as possible, catching Váli. "I'm so proud of you!" You kissed his chubby cheek - when you heard a knock on the chamber's door. Must be the caregiver, you thought and stood up, carrying the boy with you to the door. It was, indeed the caregiver. "Good evening, your majesty." She curtsied, softly smiling. "Good evening, Alruna. Before you look after the twins... Would you please fetch my husband? Tell him it's urgent and that he has to come to our chambers right away." You didn't want Loki to miss this. You know how sad he'd be, if he missed his son's first - well, now second steps. "As you wish, my queen."

Alruna was quick to leave; making her way towards the grand hall of the throne room. The doors were open; a few guests for the festives had already arrived. The caregiver's eyes searched the small crowd, looking for the king. As soon as her eyes landed upon Loki, she approached him. "My king." A curtsy. "Apologies for the disturbance but the queen sent me to fetch you. I shall tell you that it's urgent. She wishes you to come to your majesties chambers right away." Loki's ruby eyes widened at her words. Fear started to flood his veins, heart hammering against his chest. What if something was wrong with her or his sons? He gave the caregiver a nod. "Tell her I'll be with her right away." "Yes, my king." With another curtsy, Alruna vanished again; returning to her king's and queen's chamber.

Loki turned to face the few guests, which had already arrived. "I beg your pardon, gentlemen. My wife seems to be in need of me. I'll be right back." He excused himself and walked with fast, hasty steps towards your shared quarters. The anxiety was still present. Without knocking he stormed inside. "Love, I came as quick as possible! What is the m-" The king's words died down as his eyes witnessed what was going on. You were in the middle of the spacious living room, squatted down near the fireplace with a big smile on your face. Váli was highly focused, as he made a few wobbly steps forwards. But when he noticed his father - Y/E/C eyes looked up to meet his and the little boy lost his concentration and balance; resulting in him crashing to the hard floor. He landed rather ungently on his bum - thick tears starting to fall immediately.

Loki was the first to react. Eyes widening, he immediately picked his crying son up, holding him against his chest. "Hush, my little love, everything is alright." You were back on your feet as well; a concerned look on your face as you stepped over and placed a hand on Váli's back. "He's not hurt, is he?" Your husband shook his head, pressing a kiss on the boy's head and rocking him gently. "I don't think so. It was just the shock, I'd say." "Seems so." A silent minute passed, before Loki spoke up again; audible joy in his words. "Was that the reason why you called for me? To show me his first steps?" You nodded; expression shifting into a smile. "Yes, sorry. I have the feeling I worried you. I just didn't want you to miss this." The king smiled. "Why thank you. I'm happy that I was able to witness such a big milestone in our son's life." Then he directed his attention to the child in his arms, who had calmed down again and was now clinging to his father's chest; cuddling close. "Daddy's so proud of you, my little prince."

[elusivecagedmockingbird]

Lights Out, Words Gone | Lights Out, Words Spill - [yoongi x reader][2.4k+ friends to lovers, nonidol!au; light angst, smut, fluff] Exploration No. 5 - [namjoon x reader] [1k+ strangers to lovers, nonidol!au; fluff] Now That We Don't Talk | Not In The Same Way | Not Warriors | High - [seokjin x reader ft. hoseok] [3.5k+ lovers to strangers, breakup!au; angst, smut] Be My Mistake - [jhope x reader] [1.4k+ friends with benefits, celeb!au; smut, angst] Orbiting - 1° | 2° - 2,5° | 3° - 3,5° | 4° | 5° - [jungkook x reader ft. jimin] [5k+ friends with benefits, childhood friends to lovers, nonidol!au; smut—literally porn with a little bit of plot, light angst, fluff] Come As You Are, Doused In Mud - One | Two - [jimin x reader ft. taehyung] [5k+ circus!au, dead dove; smut ‼️ strong language and dark themes] Play It As It Lays - [taehyung x reader] [1.5k+ smut] Bad Omens | Ghost of You | Take My Hand - [jungkook x reader] [5k+ married!au; smut, angst] Untitled | Still Untitled - [jungkook x reader] [6k+ college!au; fluff] A Daydream Away - [idol!yoongi x music producer!reader] About You - [jungkook x reader] [700+ mild angst] Bleach - [yoongi x reader] [1.3k+ angst, fluff]

[hazelkjt]

OC Introductory Post

Hello, and thank you for stopping by my blog! I'm Hazel and this is my main character for everything FFXIV related, from raiding to rp'ing. My pronouns are he/him, I'm an early 20's college student still trying to figure out what to do with my life, but I'm getting there!

I had mentioned this before but I'll reiterate it here: this blog was originally just for my main FFXIV OC, Hazel Kha, but because trying to manage multiple blogs was pushing me away from doing anything with these character I'm consolidating this one to have all of my OCs on it rather than just one. Those old blogs will remain up to keep the content from disappearing but I will not be utilizing them anymore. I'm sorry if you followed me here exclusively for the Hazel stuff, she will still be the main focus of most of my posts here but there will be others posted up here and there.

I'm situated on Zalera (Crystal) and spend most of my time either raiding or taking GPose shots, but regardless I look forward to seeing everyone's creativity here on the Tumbles.

Anyways, onto the intro bits to them all below the Read More

Hazel Kha

Age: 24 as of Dawntrail

Race: Xaela Au Ra

Height: 6'4"/193cm

Nameday: 25th Sun of the First Umbral Moon (February 22nd)

Gender: Female (She/Her)

Sexuality: Bisexual

Carrd: Here!

A young hunter and warrior of the Kha tribe, Hazel is a proud daughter of the Azim Steppe who has always longed to see more, to do more. Through her mother's collection of foreign books and literature she came to daydream and wonder of the lands beyond the Steppe. Her desire for adventure high a fever pitch when coming into possession of a wandering samurai's soul crystal, and all the memories and knowledge it contained. She would hold on to the stone dearly for years, until one fateful day she had a chance encounter of a lifetime and through it found her way across the waters to Eorzea. After arriving she found herself under the employment of the Sharlayan scholar Nolanel Corbeaux, working as both research assistant and hired hand to help defend against threats. Not long after Hazel finds herself under the tutelage of Lia Amelune of Ishgard, retired Dragoon and head of her own noble house. Extremely curious and adventurous by nature, Hazel's love of the unknown is matched only by her competitiveness. Idealistic and prideful, Hazel takes to each new day with excitement and wonder in her eye.

Claire Ashe (Claire Bas Syndris)

Age: 29 as of Dawntrail

Race: Garlean

Height: 6'2"/188cm

Nameday: 17th Sun of the Third Astral Moon (May 17th)

Gender: Female (She/Her)

Sexuality: Lesbian

A pureblooded Garlean who spent most of her childhood and teenage years living in Ala Mhigo under Garlean occupation. She grew up befriending many of the Ala Mhigan children there without her parents knowing. After her two closest friends were beaten to death in the streets, Claire revoked her family name and fled the city, no longer disillusioned by the Garlean propaganda she was fed her entire life. She traveled to Ul'dah and came into contact with the Lemures, where she was then trained by Drusilla as a Reaper. With her training and pact with the Voidsent Sidian, Claire aided in the revolution to liberate Ala Mhigo from Garlean control. She now works aboard the merchant ship The Enduring Deeds as a deckhand and the ship's main cook. She wears a bandana at all times to hide her third eye, paranoid over the general consensus most people have of Garleans. She puts up a cold and harsh exterior, which as of this point might not be as much of an act anymore, but underneath is a truly kind soul afraid of being hurt and hurting others just from existing.

Derrinall Evramont

Age: 33 (physically) as of Dawntrail

Race: Duskwight Elezen (also Ashkin/Undead)

Height: 6'7"/201cm

Nameday: 9th Sun of the First Astral Moon (January 9th)

Gender: Male (He/Him)

Sexuality: Pansexual

Derrinall Evramont originally lived during the final years of Gelmorra. His family were that of knights, dedicated to serving the people, though unfortunately his life was not lost in service of this oath. Sickness claimed him a few years before the total fall of Gelmorra, his soul adrift yet still holding strong to his memory and sense of self for centuries...that is, until he was brought back to the star for reasons he did not know. When he awoke again he wandered the ruins of the crypt he was buried in, eventually stumbling upon two he would learn to be kindred spirits, in a way. The two strangers helped him to recover even as he kept his personal information close to his chest, eventually pointing him to work and housing in Ishgard. He found work under Lia Amelune, both as house servant and a member of the House's ranks of knights. Derrinall's previous experience as a knight of Gelmorra saw him quickly rise through the ranks to become Captain, a title he holds with pride and only the occasional harassment of the Lady he serves.

E'venna Zekiel

Age: 21 as of Dawntrail

Race: Seeker of the Sun Miqo'te

Height: 5'4"/162cm

Nameday: 3rd Sun of the Sixth Astral Moon (November 3rd)

Gender: Female (She/Her)

Sexuality: Straight

E'venna Zekiel is the eldest daughter of five children. After her father was tempered by Ifrit and subsequently killed, she took it upon herself to help her mother care for her younger siblings, specifically her triplet younger sisters. It wasn't an easy road to get where she and her family are now, especially in a place such as Ul'dah. E'venna began her "career" in back alley fights, as she had always been scrappy in a brawl. After getting into an impromptu fight outside the Pugilist's Guild she was offered membership, and upon joining took it upon herself to partake in Coliseum matches. The shine of her golden hair is matched only by her bright smile and optimistic personality. Combined with her unorthodox and playful fighting style in matches and soon E'venna had earned her the nickname "The Dancing Coeurl" from dedicated fans of her's. Her tournament winnings are a major boon to the family, with it they are able to put the three youngest through a formal education. Her family members almost all strongly disapprove of E'venna's line of work she can't imagine herself doing anything but. She's found her place, and that's in the ring.

Exploding Goldfish

Age: 36 as of Dawntrail

Race: Hellsguard Roegadyn

Height: 7'2"/218cm

Nameday: 30th Sun of the Third Umbral Moon (June 28th)

Gender: Male (He/Him)

Sexuality: AroAce

Exploding Goldfish, simply known as "Fish" by most everyone, was born to a family of miners in Uldah. Throughout his life he was surrounded by heavy machinery, sparking a lifelong love of machines and inventing. His youth was spent learning everything he could about technology. His studies eventually paid off and he scored the job of his dreams working as part of Garlond Ironworks...for a while. An accident during a project cost Fish partial vision in his left eye and his position in the company. Scarred and humiliated, he drifted for months before finally finding secure work and pay at Wolves' Den Pier. Fish spent his time maintaining the machines used in "Rival Wings" competitions, and when he wasn't working on repairs he was drowning his self-pity in alcohol. It wasn't all for nothing, however. While at Wolves' Den, Fish chanced upon meeting a scrawny Viera living under the pier; Qara Wen. It took some coaxing but eventually Fish was able to befriend him, and over time that friendship evolved into brotherhood. And so when Fish was recruited to join the merchant ship The Enduring Deeds, his one request was that Qara be welcomed aboard as well.

[shdo-xplosion]

MASTERLIST ˏˋ°•*⁀➷

warnings: fantasy au, multiple pairings, female-bodied reader, explicit content, p in v, oral (m&f receiving), magic, mentions of war, mild jealousy, eventual fivesome, but one-on-one first, additional warnings in each part!

notes: is a fivesome technically an orgy? anyway, i’ve had this on my mind for a long time now. i hope everyone enjoys reading it as much as i’ve enjoyed daydreaming about it ( ˘͈ ᵕ ˘͈♡)

THE KING - k. bakugou

THE BARD - h. sero

THE MAGE - d. kaminari

THE WARRIOR - e. kirishima

THE CONCUBINE - multiple

2023©️shdo-xplosion. please do not plagiarize or repost my work to any other platforms.

[ladyclwriter]

State of Grace - Paul Atreides!AU

I'm not a Dune reader, I only watched the movies. Everything here is fanfiction!

Summary: Paul succeeded at bending most of the noble houses at his upcoming command. You are the leader of a Minor House, Polaria. Spending some time with Paul before battles, you find yourself resonating with Muad'Dib, and your advice to the older boy is: don't let them take Atreides from you.

Longshot, time jumps, platonic, gender neutral reader, lots of high fantasy stuff

*In purple: creation of mine, fanfiction.

The curved walls weren't welcoming, it's dead gray like a panicking hug, differently from the colorful shapes of your planet. You could still remember the suffer of waking up inside concrete boxes, which they called chambers — at your little palace, the place where you'd settle your head to sleep was adorned on silk, feathers, and rainbow furniture. Walking through corridors busting with laughing children, maidens carrying baskets, warriors with swords, elders with it's incenses perfuming the air. Greeting many faces, and trying to remember all of them, was a daily task. You had to smile even when you didn't want to, for there was no time or room for melancholy and paranoia.

And now, you would find yourself praying to find anyone at all willing to even look at you. Irrelevance, how much of a pain it could be. And loneliness was a death sentence to a Polaritia.

After your platoon playing a definitive role at a conquering battle against one of the Major Houses, Duke Paul started to pay more attention to you. He'd discuss attack plans with you, trust your guidance and build teams at your observations.

“They have no reasons, nor power, to come against me” he said nonchalantly to Halleck. “Sometimes the weakest, the smallest ones, are the ones to trust”

You were teached to be trustworthy, but not the one who trust. The Atreides house could hold the power of the Voice now, but forgotten people like Polaritia mastered the ability of listening. You'd spend minutes hearing the Duke's casual thoughts, his worries, his plans and his craziness. From time to time, the boy would talk to himself, lost in visions and ghosts that only he could deal with. You were there, standing like a tree, pretending to not be paying attention until he remembered of your existence again.

The catch is; there was no catch. You were as important as a stone, a tool, your value based on for what the Duke would need you for. And it had to change.

“Your Highness, Muad'Dib” you get on a knee until he pats your shoulder, walking to his own bed.

“Polaris” he says in a casual tone. The title of the leader of your little nation became your name. Actually, he probably doesn't know your name. “It's late. And you don't come to me without a reason. Something bothering you?”

Not that he cared if the answer was yes. You stand straight, hands behind your back, eyes following the skinny man as he sits on his duvets. “I'd like to ask what awaits my nation, Your Highness”

He raises a dark eyebrow. His hair follows his head as it tilts slowly, blue eyes looking at some specific point inside your being. That eerie aura only he could carry.

“You should be clearer, Polaris. That sentence could have different meanings. And I can give you as many answers” yes, he could. Your eyes wander from his, as you inhale and humbly declare:

“I have no interest on your holy visions, Muad'Dib”

His eyebrow is still up as he smile, and nod. For a moment, he's silent, looking at nowhere, caressing his own hands. He nods once more, not talking or daydreaming, but coming to a conclusion. Your heart was beating at your ears, a pressure on your chest as the worst answers come to your mind.

“Your people is amazing at arts, we could make use of some cultural schools. And no one compares to your acrobatics” he's not looking at you while he speaks, making sure his thoughts are being well articulated. “I don't need more worshippers. But I don't need more nobles too”

When his eyes meet yours again, there's a silent question in the air. You were following his logic, and you knew the right answer to give even before he could ask. He knew that too.

He leans back at the bedpost, hands crossed on top of his spread legs. “Can Polaria promise neutrality and loyalty?”

The answer was a definite yes. There was no room for a no. Yet, you keep seconds of silence. Your lips part, and your eyebrows lift slightly. But your face gets back to a plain, obedient expression.

“My people has a deep passion for the colors, for the life” it wasn't an explanation. “With your protection and affection, we would be guardians. Your art, your culture, our enemie's. Not vowed to the House of Atreides, but servants of joy and knowledge. A safe place for the ones interested on nurturing something more than power”

He stay quiet. His eyes go to nothing again. His thumb clashes against the back of the white hand it holds, feet swaying carelessly. It lasts a minute or two, until he looks at you with the most serious face he could do in his sleepwear.

“Isn't passion the biggest of the fuels, Polaris? Wouldn't your House behold a power too high for it's hands to reach?”

You couldn't contain the sparkle in your eyes. That specific feeling at the roof of your mouth, something warm inside your stomach. The smile wasn't at your face, and your voice was cold, but he could see through the etiquette. His own pupils dilated with interest, challenge.

“We are inside a flying machine, Muad'Dib” your hands tighten at your back, and you don't know if you're breathing when he smiles right after you say: “The sky was never a limit”

Ever since that day, for the first time, the people of Polaria had a purpose. The citizen captured the message, and in no time the planet was well organized to be some sort of academic safe haven. The well trained warriors were with you, battling for the Imperium. Your acrobats, illusionists, and alchemists something to be reckon when joined with the Fremen. Your mind was always aligned with Paul's, and even if no one would dare to consider you such, you became an arm of his operation. But, as nothing can be perfect, the Duke of Arrakis would also keep you at an arm's length. You couldn't read the reason, not when he looked so distant and nonchalant every time you two were alone.

Being alone with him was as entertaining as terrifying. He was easy to memorize, easy to decode, if you pay enough attention to the details. The way he would smile at things without importance, or the way he couldn't hide the turmoil inside his mind when destiny obligate him to go against him instincts. Changing weight from a feet to another when about to snap at someone, or his jawline straightening when in the smallest amount of fear.

“You seemed so sure about this. The marriage, I mean” the commentary comes out in a quiet tone, as you don't look at him in respect. “What changed?”

Can I help you in any way? was the question. He kept staring at himself on a mirror, the royal silver outfit contrasting to his disheveled hair. He asked the maidens to leave before they could finish his look. The boy needed silence, and it was understandable.

When he doesn't answer, you look at the floor. “Is it the Fremen woman?” his fingers twitch beside his body. That was enough.

There was nothing you could do about his lost love. Nothing you could do about any of his feelings, at all. So, you stay there, quietly waiting for him to speak up. When he does, the distress wouldn't be detectable. Except for the fact you knew him enough to do so.

“Do you think these clothes look good on me, Polaris?” you don't answer, but your eyes go back to his reflection. He's quiet, and you only know you were supposed to say something when his eyes meet yours.

You swallow words. Compliments and critiques. He reads it. An eyebrow is lift, a silent inquisition.

“I do, Muad'Dib” you say with an uncommon hesitation. You knew he needed more than that. “Personally, I dislike it. The attire, I mean. It... It is the Imperium style, their colors. And... That doesn't feel like you, Your Highness”

He ponders. That was clearly an unexpected answer, but he didn't seem to disagree. “I bet you don't know the colors I used to wear”, his tone was cold. “Black. Dark like tar. In simple attires, thought to represent both royalty and strength.”

Considering the armory, and how he could pull it off, you could picture he looked equally good at those. But you stay quiet, letting him think. “This feels wrong. It's too light, makes me vulnerable to any threat. It's shiny, attracts attention. It's trouble” he was mostly talking to himself. “I'd be dead in minutes wearing this at Arrakis.”

His voice drifts away. He tense up, jaw clenching. Fear. Fear of losing his past. Himself. The woman he truly loves and the people who put him where he is. And his eyes water. Sorrow, grief for what was no longer on his life.

“Duke?” you call out. He hears, but doesn't react. Your chest inflated when you inhale deeply, closing your eyes while doing your best to maintain education. But you decide to flip the coin.

Your steps are purposely noisy when your boots reach the floor. You stop at his front, but not directly, not blocking the mirror. Your gloved hands find his collar, fixing an asymmetric button.

Your skin burns when his eyes are on it, and the air inside your lungs suddenly feels too warm. But you play nonchalant, hands slow, delicate, careful not to break into his walls. “If the worms of Arrakis could see, they'd call you dramatic. That's how I would describe the high houses's style.”

He raises an eyebrow, like he always do when curious or barely listening to you. “In my planet, we dress however we wish to. I, a leader, could wear either a white dress for battle, or a pink armor for a dance. Our streets are almost blinding with colors. It's insane, really.”

Your fingers trace other details of his clothes, fixing slight errors, straightening the shiny cloth. “I can't really see the use of a silver attire. It's brilliant, it's smooth, but... What is it implying? Why is it relevant to an Emperor?”

“I don't see the dramatic part” he comments lowly, emotionless.

“The drama is a whole House have a color to dress. Unnecessary, vain, indeed” after having nothing left to pretend to fix, you join your hands at your back, meeting his eyes with a polite smile. “I know my House is loyal to me and our ideals, even if we are many, and not only a family. We don't need a color or a shield. We're Polaritia.”

He only looks at you, taking what you said with a cherish he couldn't express. A nod, and he turns on his heels, summoning maidens to fix his hair.

Mission accomplished. You eased the tension on him once more, giving him something random to think about.

The days would go on like this. When not on field, fighting, you were wandering around spaceships, fortresses, either busy with the newfound Cultural Center of Polaria, with your own platoon, or, well, making sure Paul Atreides wouldn't go insane. The more battles won and planets conquered, the more his eyes would go hollow blue. Distant, shallow, lost inside his disturbed mind. His marriage with Princess Irulan, the already settled weight of him becoming the Emperor of the Known Universe, while being the Messiah of many people, was draining every single bit of humanity the young man had. And you were there, watching, trying the best you could to keep him sane, alive. To keep him as, well, himself. And it was an agonizing way to live.

That eyebrow wouldn't lift. His jaw wouldn't clench. No half smile, no silent curiosity. At a certain way, it was killing you too. And, hours before the ceremony of his marriage, you decided to step in.

“Excuse us” the maidens didn't question; not after your months of work and lone moments with the Duke. “Your Highness. I'd like to talk”

No answer, as always. He was sat at his bed, hair combed back, wearing a shirt that was being taken care by the maids. You stop right in front of him, determined. “Don't you give me that dead fish face, my lord. I know you hear me. Talk to me, please”

His eyes find yours slowly, emotionless. That makes your whole being shake with anger and frustration. “Sir. Talk to me” you demand. When he keeps staring at you with those glass eyes, blood burns in your veins, and you snap. “I will not stand here and watch you falling by the strings of a fate you didn't choose”

No reaction.

“For fuck's sake, Moad- Paul!” you yell his name. For the first time, it comes out your lips in a shout. “You are the fucking future Emperor of the New Universe, former Duke of Arrakis, of Polaria, Caladan, and countless other planets we raided days ago!” he wasn't reacting, but listening. His eyes weren't on yours, but down. At your moving angry lips. That could make butterflies on your stomach if you weren't so pissed. “You are the first man to behold the Voice. You are the Lisan al-Gaib, the Harkonning bastard who gave us freedom. You are a living legend, a god, a savior!”

You point towards him, you spit your words. None of them resonating within him, neither within you. No, these weren't the titles he needed. These titles weren't him. “Your Highness. Paul. I...”

How painful it would be to watch such a man fall for the manipulation of forces he himself could dominate. You get on your knees. Taking his cold hands in yours, you lay your forehead at his palms. “You are good. I see goodness in you. I see faith, of a million souls. And I see hope”

As you lift your head, the vibrant blue orbs are fixated on yours. His irises shake, switching from each one of yours. A reaction.

“And I see me”

It was true. You've been thinking about that for days, working it in your mind. “I was born to shine a light on my planet. To bring us recognition, greatness. To be Polaris”

He blinks. Just once. Listening.

“I lived under the shadows of a hundred people's expectations. Literally a hundred. That's our population” you chuckle bittersweetly, tears in your eyes. “And it was heavy. It was twisted, torturing. But I had to do be. If it wasn't me, no one would. And it was hard to not lose myself on it. On who they wanted me to be”

You squeeze his skinny fingers on yours, hoping it would convey your empathy, your deep need to bring that man back to life. You did it for yourself, once. And he deserved a chance.

“Paul,” it cascades down your tongue, your lips. Caressing your teeth with a sour taste. “before all of this, you were someone. You were the son of Leto Atreides and Gesserit Jessica. The boy of Caladan”

The stories were clear. And you had to study them, as Jessica required you and anyone near Paul to. “You were a loved son. The light of your parents, and your family, even if too monotone sometimes”

You get up on your feet slowly, pulling him by his delicate hands, and he follows. You lift your chin to the tall pale Duke, and whisper:

“Become a myth alive, Paul. Conquer the New Universe” your voice shakes, and by the warmth in your eyes, you know you had tears. “But, please, don't let them take Atreides from you”

His eyebrows twitch. You gasp, finally having a reaction. Tears fall freely down your cheeks, and you laugh alone at the way your emotions were overflowing. A hand is lift to the back of your neck, and you don't think straight when your face is against his bony shoulder blade. But you close your eyes, hands at his back, clenching the fabric in it.

He wasn't a friend. Or a companion. But you hug him tight, crying for the lost man whose chin was on top of your head. Whose nose was, now, sunk in your hair.

“The universe will be damned if you get lost” you whisper, voice shivering.

The feeling of his hand running softly in your hair gave you goosebumps. He was certainly not normal, certainly not the Paul Atreides. But he was, at least, conscious.

“The ones unseen are the ones to befriend” his voice is warm, low at the side of your head, reverberating inside your chest. “For in the cold darkness lies the truth of men”

His hand cups the crook of your skull, as he lowers his head to perfectly whisper at your ear:

“Stay with me, unseen one. Help me thread through the shadows surrounding us” it wasn't a command, but it wasn't a suggestion. A whisper to your soul, your beings speaking to each other.

“I will. I will stay with you, Paul Atraides” you whisper against the cloth of his blouse. Well, that was the feeling his believers had. Reverence, hope, submission. You understood it all.

“Thank you” he sighs, sending electricity down your whole body. One of his hands travels up to your cheek, and he looks inside your eyes like a lost, madman. But completely sane, as he whispers:

“I don't think Paul Atreides will exist for long” he admits, melancholy I his tone. “But with your help... Maybe I can have faith in me.”

I watched the movie and I had this sentence in my mind. "Don't let them take Atreides from you". And I had to find a way to put it out.

Please, tell me your thoughts! Every commentary is appreciated.

And to the ones who follow me, sorry for the hiatus. I'm working on some stuff and I promise I will try to finish them this year (lol).

Thank you so much for reading!! Love you all

[eustasskiddsprosthetic]

So, I'm thinking of a Sabolaw actor AU!

For the longest time, Sabo's an amateur actor who does this as a hobby. He loves making short films and he loves writing, so this was an avenue of self-expression for him throughout his twenties.

One day in his late thirties, a casting director finds one short film of his and immediately hired him to be the lead of a chirpy adaptation of a YA thing.

Instant hit! People adored his good looks, his giggly laugh and bug eyes. His popularity skyrocketed and the hype sustained his career ten years later. He's just that smart when it comes to marketing!

So now, as a forty-something, he's the star of a quirky, eccentric adult film written by the enigmatic Corázon. He's interested in the script because a lot of people fancast him as the male lead and figured this would be a good project to appeal to public opinion.

This is where he meets Law, who has taken an instant dislike to him. Whatever, that happens.

Law's apparently Corázon's personal assistant but he acts more like a baby sitter. Law would light his cigarettes up for him, get coffee and even writes corrections for Corázon. They were apparently father and son and Sabo kind of envies their good relationship.

More than that, though, Sabo adores how sweet Law was towards the mute Corázon. He saw a lot of shy, reserved people—especially if they were minorities—get yelled at, berated and insulted regardless of rank. It could be straight up harassment or backhanded compliments to their achievements.

Law, in contrast, was doting, polite and even talks for Corázon, even if what he said was either "Thank you, Cora-san will think about it" or "Piss off." Sabo thought vulgarities sounded cute from his mouth.

Their first full conversation happens in a dressing room where Law was filling in for a makeup artist. Law was doing his makeup and Sabo leaned in so Law did not have to strain himself.

"You come here around, lovely?" Right, Sabo flirts with him a lot. He's kind of insane about it.

"No."

"Your words are cold but your hands are warm, darling."

Law sighed deeply. "Have you memorised your lines? You forgot them the last time."

"Oh..." Sabo did not like talking about work so casually. "Yes, yes, I have. Would you like me to recite one?"

"Sure."

Sabo did not mind that Law was ignoring him and that he was pretending to tidy up the makeup supplies. He recited a monologue, admittedly cringing slightly. He planned to negotiate a slight rewrite.

"What am I thinking of? What a silly question. I think of you when I don't think of anything in particular. I think about what you're doing now, how you're feeling, what you want to do when you come home to me. Even right now, I think of how I can love you better. I think of you all the time, even in my daydreams. You inspire me, my love."

Sabo noticed Law's ears go a little red but he kept a neutral face.

"Don't take this the wrong way but," Law paused to glance at the floor. "I'm glad you have the role. You're not the guy my dad had in mind but you fit it perfectly. Thank you for agreeing to do this."

Sabo laughed. Law was oddly sweet today.

They got a bit friendlier from that day onwards. They would talk occasionally about things that's not just work, even if Law seemed reluctant to. From the few bits of information Law gave, Sabo found himself falling for him more and more.

Law had a puppy. He liked black coffee, just like Sabo. He liked hardcore rock music, indie stuff with a splash of poppy-addictive Red Velvet music. He liked the colour yellow. He liked reading. Law wore the fluffiest, softest cardigan to work sometimes.

Law's stoic demeanor finally broke when Sabo let him infodump all about Sora the Warrior. Law speaks so enthusiastically even to someone he supposedly 'hates' and Sabo just melts. He could listen to Law talk all day. He would think of his sparkly eyes even in his daydreams. He could count the stars in them...

Today, Sabo was going to film the sex scene with his co-star and he made sure they would do it in at most five takes. She seemed willing enough and wanted to get it done in one. Admittedly, they did not get along in real life despite having chemistry on camera.

When they started filming, Sabo tried his best to be 'in love' as the script says. This was a moment where their relationship would deepen and it was admittedly the hottest moment in the film. It was fine if she hesitated, since she played a timid character. The director reminded him of this. Sabo got annoyed but he agreed to try again.

It got worse because they were both irritated. Gah! Just before Sabo wanted to take a break, he had a reckoning. He realised that her lips were pale... Sabo glanced up and saw Law pretending to look busy by tapping away at his laptop. They were pale, just like Law's. He closed his eyes and finally felt the passion he needed to make this work.

Even the director blushed at what he saw.

After the scene, Corázon taps Sabo on the shoulder without Law next to him. Sabo follows Corázon into a small, under-utilised office. He opened the window and smoked a cigarette. Here, he took his sunglasses off and Sabo sees that he's actually quite handsome with a large face, pale skin and dull blonde hair.

"Be careful, boy."

Where did that deep voice come from? Sabo was surprised to hear it come from Corázon himself.

"His heart is in pain," Corázon continued. He blew a puff of smoke out the window. "Treat him well."

"You can't cut me out of this project," Sabo reminded him lightly. Threats like this were unprofessional. "We have a contract."

Corázon smiled. He was cunning like Sabo and Sabo oscillated between liking and distrusting him.

"It's not about that. I know your type, and... Well... I'm a protective father, do you see?"

Oh, it's that kind of consequence. For the first time in his career, he stood some distance away and bowed deeply. Corázon did not expect that but he seemed to appreciate that.

Sabo knew cynicism when he saw it, however. Why won't these people just believe in him! He needed a fucking drink.

He went to the bar some distance away from the studio and wow! Holy fucking shit!

Law looked at him first. He changed out of his hoodie and now wore a black button shirt and jeans. Sabo knew he had game but damn, Law's so slim and fit and so damn sexy. Sabo ordered a drink and sat there. He stared at the wall, thinking of his work, what he had to do tomorrow, he quickly remembered his lines...

"Hey, handsome. You look like you have a lot on your mind." A slightly tipsy giggle.

Sabo looked up. Now, he thought of Law. Law had such a cute smile when he wasn't so irritable. Law sat on his lap without asking and of course Sabo let him. Law gave him fuck-me eyes and Sabo knew that was only because he was sort of drunk but Sabo just felt his heart squeeze and his dick harden.

If only Law were sober! Damn it! This would be so much better if Law wanted to seduce him. He wanted Law to look at him with those lustful eyes and mean it. Sabo laughed bitterly.

Law's legs were long and warm against his. Law held his face and tried to kiss Sabo but Sabo put his hands over Law's mouth. Law pouted and he was so fucking cute, Sabo would gladly kiss him just not like this. He tried to get Law off his lap.

"You're still the same dork I fell in love with twenty years ago." Sabo finally had enough. Law tilted his head to the side in confusion. Sabo remembered Law hated loud noises and would wear white noise-cancelling ear-plugs. Upon closer inspection, Sabo saw that it was the same pair too. Law kissed his ear and Sabo let him come closer.

"Fine, you win. I'm hopelessly smitten. I wonder, Law, I wonder where we'd be if you believed in my feelings towards you? If you listened to me that day..."

Also, did I mention that they were (very bitter) exes? Yeah, that's a thing that happened a long ago...

[p-s-yokubo]

Clay took a deep breath and looked at his reflection in his sword. He looked fine. His armor was clean, his hair was nice, and the bags under his eyes, well… he hoped nobody would notice those.

[leafith]

For Sky Lore Fans - The Guide's Reunion's⁠

🍄‍🟫🔷🪻: heyyyy y'all uhm how are you??? :DD Someone, which is not me but is Leaf, wanted to introduce to you a thing that she created while writing her Sky: CotL Fanfiction, Fly Until You See The Light, and that has been going on for a while without you knowing. Soooo Leaf, here is your chance to speak.

🌿📜🫀: alright, thank you, colleague. First of all, I warn you, people. Since the beginning of my Sky story, you can see that it's an AU that tends to be the closest possible to the real game. Thought, it's still an AU, and many things that are NOT CANONIC and just theories exist in there.

Now, we can proceed.

Down here, you find a screenshot of the Chapter 13 of the Prophecy part of my story!

Some of you may wonder: what is a Guide's Reunion? How does it work? That's what I'm going to talk about!

A Guide's Reunion is nothing but a meeting where all the Seasonal Questgivers/Guides organize new Seasons, Events and more. So, I can also say that I've been Daydreaming about some scenarios, and my mind has brought me to the conclusion that the Guides are a full group of chaotic beings and good old friendships.

There is a difference between Seasons and Events, in the Reunions: the Seasons are a more delicate issue, so the Gods create them as ideas and tell the Guides to organize them (such as discovering more about Spirits and the Questgivers if they're already in their area, and more...). About the Events (such as Days of Nature, Days of Style...), which are easier to make and smaller, the Guides create them and organize them on their own.

The Reunions are every two/three weeks, but the time depends mostly on the needs and ideas of the members!

Now, about the Seasonal Questgivers/Guides, I'd like to add some more information.

Every Guide of every Season participates to the Reunions.

Despite this, there are some special cases... And these are the Little Prince Season, Shattering Season and AURORA Season.

These Seasons are not randomly chosen. They have something in common: none of them has got a Sky Person as Guide. The Little Prince has got the Rose, the Shattering has got the Shattered Diamond, AURORA has got an Aurora statue/sculpture (?). So, who participates at the Reunions for the original Guides?

The answers can be two, in these cases. AURORA and Little Prince can be represented by a Spirit of their Constellation. The Spirits of the two Constellations alternate among themselves to participate in the Reunions. But what about Shattering? They have no Spirits, they don't even have a Constellation, if I'm not wrong.

A Messenger of the Stars joins the Reunion for them, and they try to help the Guides.

✷ A Messenger of the Stars is a being that is very similar to Skykids. In fact, the Messengers are Skykids, but they are more related to the Gods and the Elders. They look like normal Children of the Light, but they are known for having the AURORA Blue Wings and/or the AURORA tiara. Their purposes are the following:

To organize expeditions (and participate in them) with magic functions that may be connected to the past, the present or the future of the Sky Kingdom;

To look after the Sky Creatures, if necessary, and to always protect them from the Hunters (just people who hunt the creatures);

To discover the meanings and the hidden stories behind the ancient murals in the Kingdom;

Adding a fact about them, they tend to be good musicians, healers, and they can be good teachers and warriors.

This is an example with an original Sky OC, Guwa. ✷

Now, let's go back to the Reunions topic.

When the Guides are at the Reunions, they can't stay at their area at the same time. So, they can choose between being temporarily replaced by a Spirit of their Constellation to help the Children to complete their Seasonal Quests, or to make the Quests be closed until they come back.

I've told you all a lot about the Present, but what about the Seasons in the past?

Some centuries after the Darkness, the Corruption and the King's fall, the Season were created by the Gods to keep the population united. Children of the Light were already starting their journeys at the age of thirteen, and the Seasons helped them to make new friends more easily.

Sadly, after some time, the Seasons were forgotten because nobody had written informations about them. The first Guides disappeared for choice of the Gods, and they've never returned.

Well, that was until a recent time (that we can also see as 2019, the beginning of the Seasons). The Darkness, angry and mad at Megabird, decided to make a joke on her and gave life to the Season of Gratitude. Megabird wasn't happy about it at first, but she then saw how powerful the Seasons have always been. So, she didn't stop the cycle anymore.

✷ This is also the reason some of my OCs don't have a star sign, which I've seen in the @theweeklylight 's most recent posts.

A star sign is like a zodiac sign, and you can find it in the blog I've tagged. ✷

Fun Fact before continuation

The "before Aviary" Guides usually make friendly jokes about the "after Aviary" Guides. Things like: "Back at my days, ...";

The cycle of the Pendants

The Pendants are the Seasonal necklaces that Skykids can unlock with the Pass during the Seasons.

In my AU, the Seasonal Spirits that have got a Seasonal Pendant are willing to be "secondary Guides", helpers that can participate at the Reunions. When all the Spirits of a Constellation have the Pendants, they all can participate.

The number of Spirits can change, of course. Here is some example:

Season of Remembrance -> Bereft Veteran and Wounded Warrior have the Pendants;

Season of Passage -> Melancholy Mope has the Pendant;

Season of Abyss -> Bumbling Boatswain has the Pendant;

Season of Flight -> Lively Navigator and Light Whisperer have the Pendants.

The Elders wanted to replace the old Guides with this cycle of the Pendants, but no Guide has ever let the group and nobody ever will.

✷ Oh, also, Passage Guide is very sensitive about one of his adopted Children being an helper ✷

So, I can finally say that I am finished with this topic :) I hope you all enjoyed this little essay (can we call it like that?), and I hope that this will be appreciated by the Lore Fans.

Bye bye, Sky People!

[faroreskiss]

The Power of Understanding / Pilot (Part 1 v2)

Rewritten to v2 on: 2023/09/10

Cheat Sheet

Read of Ao3

Chapters: Pilot, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5, Part 6, Part 7, Part 8, Part 9

Summary: You have been with the Chain for a while now, as their "scholar" and translator. You know everything about them, because you are from our world. But do *they *know the truth about how you can understand everyone?

A little introduction and world building concept for the Translator!Reader and her adventures. Check notes below for more info!

Non-linear fic.

AU fic, prior to TotK (instead of TotK, chain events happen).

Loosely based on the same reader in my NSFW fic, which is a very loose prequel to this one, and a work in progress.

More background info to come, if I feel like it :D

Warnings: None, maybe some cussing, but nothing is censored. SFW content.

Points of interest: This is your thing if you are into the mystery of chain being able to talk to each other. I am an actual trained linguist IRL, hence this HAD to be written!

You were daydreaming in the middle of the day about him again, amidst the smell of horse shit around you, when you're supposed to be finishing the work you have until the end of the day. Or until a new portal pops up to swallow you all to Goddess knows which Hyrule this time. Damned black-blooded monsters. At least, this gave you some break.

You, coming from our own era, have been acting as the scholar of the Chain for the last couple of years, while hopping from world to world with them. Knowing this, Malon put you to work on the books of the ranch, instead of letting you deal with the cows or the horses, even though you really didn’t have anything specific to do with maths. You thought she was being kind to you, not letting you deal with dirty ranch work, you guessed? She was a sweetheart either way.

You wanted to hang out with Twilight at the same time, so instead of using the little study Malon offered, you took the books and went down to the stables. You continued with your own stuff, while he was taking care of the horses.

There was also this little thing: you were the only one who understood every single one of them, (almost) very clearly, comparatively speaking. Sure they could communicate without you just as well, but due to a bunch of coincidences, you were the closest thing to the “translation magic”, if you can call it that. Maybe it was your Hoshi Sato gene*. Maybe it was the fact that you actually stayed with Link & Zelda in the post-Calamity world, around two years prior meeting the Chain**, maybe a bit of magic was also involved. Hylia works in mysterious ways! Did it almost cost you your brain? Yes. Was it worth it? Absolutely. 

Some Links, of course, understood each other better than the others, especially when their eras were, linguistically speaking, not that far. Time and Twilight were just fine. Legend and Hyrule were already able to understand each other, even a little bit better than Time and Twilight. Sky was a bit further away and had a “funny way of saying things” (according to the Sailor), almost gibberish, but when you listened and when he spoke slowly enough, you could at least get the gist of what he was trying to say. Wind, Time, and Warriors already knew each other from other “incidents” before the Chain, so they already had a way of communicating. 

These worlds also did not have many invasions and wars by “outsiders”, if you don’t count things like the Triforce War, Imprisoning War, Sealing War, and of course, anything that had to do with Demise, Ganon & co. and their horrible reincarnations. This meant, not a lot of language change.

In the end, what happened was that over the two years you have been together with the group, you helped them understand each other better. They adjusted their accents, and somehow warped the Hylian they speak in a way that the group would understand (and especially you), when the dialogue was still within the group. Of course, the Old Man would speak more “naturally” with Malon and vice versa, and some of the chain would adjust better (e.g. Twilight or Smithy) to the language of the era they are in. After some point, communication was not that much of a problem. You learnt it all in the end. 

Writing? 

Funny enough, Wild, Sky, and Twilight had similar scripts. Time and Wind had more similar writing systems. Wild, Wars, Legend, Time, and Rulie were also better at understanding the scripts of their respective eras. Overall, other than a couple of hiccups, most understood the others’ script to an extent. 

And then there was Wild. Also known as “The Cook” nowadays. The rest of the chain didn’t know you called them the Chain in your mind, and had your little nicknames for them. The nicknames most likely revealed a bit too much, and even though most of the secrets were out nowadays… You knew better than to risk more. You have caused enough damage, you would think sometimes. Even though you just couldn’t resist the urge. 

Anyway… Wild, his case and communication issues… were complicated.

According to the rest of the chain when you guys first met, whatever he was saying (and vice versa) was almost complete gibberish at first. Some terms and special names like “deku,” “korok,” “Hylia,” “Hyrule,” “rupee,” and such were still there, albeit with a different accent, and they helped, but it was not enough. You only found out later that it was kind of… your fault. 

In the end, he was also able to communicate with them just fine. Each Link had their own… language variation and accents, so to say. Some of them did not even have the difference enough to call it a “dialect” comparatively. As you thought, language change is a slow enough process, and with the lack of ‘conflicts’ (for lack of a better word) compared to your world, no wonder they were still somehow able to understand each other. . 

The Goddesses work in mysterious ways indeed.

How did it work for you, though? There was this little secret that… First time around, when you first dropped into Wild's Hyrule, “Hylian” was basically a weird mesh-up of English and Japanese to your ears, after the enchantment from the Great Fairies you have received. It was “so you could slowly understand and grasp and communicate”, you were told. 

Oh boy, it really felt like a genie granting you a wish, but in its own twisted way. You found that out later though. 

Second time around when you first met the rest of Links, though? The first enchantment… kind of messed everything up. Second time around, you actually ended up learning real Hylian. At least, the Hylian that was used as a lingua franca between you guys. 

Of course, some learning skill enchantment was definitely not out of the deal this time as well, thanks to Rulie & Time and their fairy friends, and of course the Smithy. But what a disaster it had been! Well, it wasn’t your fault that the first time the enchantment was made, nobody calculated that you would meet the Links from other eras.

You also naturally know the reason behind why Links in kind of irrelevant eras could decipher each other's texts, even when they didn’t understand the words all the time. Some were based on the Latin alphabet, and some were on Japanese kana. No way you could clearly explain it to them.

“Oh, by the way, you are made by a game company called Nintendo, and this guy is called Miyamoto…”

Yeah, no. That didn’t go well last time. Nobody even understood what you meant. 

That was a battle to fight for another day… Now, you need to focus on the budget of the Lon Lon Ranch. And not be distracted by Twilight’s statue.

________________

Notes:

Fanciest and most OP translator you will ever know. Star Trek Universe. 

"You” already spent three years with Link and Zelda in Wild’s world and were enchanted by the Great Fairies (with Zelda’s involvement) for the improvement of learning abilities.

[chosoluv]

Number 88

Reiner Braun x Reader | Smau | Fame au | Sports au

Pairings: Reiner Braun x Reader, maybe more?

Contains: Fluff, Angst?, Curse Words

Taglist: Wide Open 😍

After a “thirst” tweet at a certain number 88 goes viral y/n is thrown into a “forbidden” romance with her closest friends “enemy”.

Or

A silly sports romance between y/n, a very popular beauty influencer, and the Marley Warriors star tight end.

TW :

Ongoing

Started: 07/23/23

Latest update : 08/05/23

———————————————————————————

Profiles

Yn + Friends - Reiner + Friends

———————————————————————————

Chapters

Zero - the accident

One - “hey haha”

Two - “what’s the worst she can say?”

Three - “thanks ☺️”

Four - “old people emojis”

Five - “balance is restored”

Six - “someone humble him”

Seven - soft launch?

Tba

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Taglist (ask or dm to be added)

: @quiveringdeer @0mint-chocolate0 @tacobellfreshavocado @hanjiii914 @ncentic @soraya-daydreams

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Masterlist

[holdmytesseract]

moodboard by @chennqingg <3

Rules To Break

Jotun!Prince!Loki Laufeyson x fem!Æsir!Princess!Reader

Summary: Prince Loki of Jotunheim - son of King Laufey and heir to the throne is assigned to train a bunch of Asgardian men, in order to turn them into warriors. What happens when Odin's daughter, Princess Y/N crosses his paths in ways he would've never expected? While the Prince is completely unaware, the Princess struggles to keep up her several masquerades...

Warnings for this Chapter: uhhh... royal things?

Word Count: 2,2k

a/n: I promised you guys and well... It's finally here! 😁 The first chapter of the prequel to 'By the Fireplace'! 🥳 This is basically about the back story of Loki and Y/N. How they met and so on, you know. I hope you are going to like it! ☺️

I split the story up into five parts, so... There's a whole lotta more to come!

Divider by the lovely @fictive-sl0th &lt;3

Tagging: @lulubelle814 @km-ffluv @lokisgoodgirl @eleniblue @muddyorbs @loz-3 @vbecker10 @jennyggggrrr @lokisninerealms @mochie85 @chantsdemarins @peaches1958 @multifandom-worlds @fictive-sl0th @loki-laufeyson-1054 @theaudacitytowrite @lovingchoices14 @simping-for-marvel @stupidthoughtsinwriting @vanilla-daydreaming @lou12346789 @kimanne723 @linaax @coldnique @lady-rose-moon @evelyn-kingsley @the-princess-of-loki @acefeather2002 @aagn360 @ijuststareatstuffhereok89 @iamlokisgloriouspurpose @kikster606 @somewiseguy @huntress-artemiss @lunarnights95 @fire-treasure-iii

Ice Flower AU Masterlist ❄ Masterlist

Chapter Two

Chapter One

The High Council of Asgard – decades before Loki's reign

"It is decided then?" Asked the Allfather his ally and good friend - King Laufey of Jotunheim, who sat across the golden table in the council room. The Frost Giant nodded, lifting his goblet of mead as a sign for his approval. "It is decided. As soon as I am back home, I am going to set everything into motion and send you my son as soon as possible." Odin lifted his goblet as well and gave the Jotun king a nod. "Here's to our alliance." "Here's to our alliance."

"Skane, go get my son. I need to talk to him." Laufey told his advisor as soon as he walked through the big, heavy doors of the palace. "Yes, your majesty." Skane bowed to him and left his side immediately, in order to execute his king's order.

The prince wasn't very difficult to find these days. He'd be either in his chambers, the library or the training grounds. Today, Skane found the prince in the library, nose buried in a book. "My prince? Apologies for the disturbance, but your father is back and he wishes to see you immediately." With a slightly annoyed huff, the young prince closed his book. When his father called for him, it was wise to not let him wait. It was a lesson he had learned quite fast and early in his life. So, the heir to the throne followed his father's advisor without complaining. "Do you know what he wishes to talk about with me?" Skane shook his head. "Unfortunately not, my prince, no." The two men made the rest of the way to the throne room in silence. The heavy stone doors swung open with a thud, revealing King Laufey, who was seated upon his throne. "Father! You're back! I hope you had a pleasant return trip. How did the council meetings go?" The prince asked in a rather cheerful voice, knowing that the king likes to be welcomed back duly. "Just fine, son. We need to talk." Laufey said, standing up. "Let's go for a walk, shall we?" Loki took a small bow. "As you wish father."

King and prince went on a walk through the barren and bleak royal gardens then. Not a single flower was blooming in the beds. Well, Jotunheim had just gone through a very rough and cold winter. But spring was definitely approaching. The small buds on the trees were the proof. Soon, the cold realm would shine in all its magical glory. "What were you up to when I was away, son?" The prince shrugged his shoulders. "Oh, you know father... The usual. Reading, training, a bit of hunting..." Loki didn't dare to mention, that he plagued the one or other royal staff member with his pranks. He was a grown man, but sometimes he liked to act like a younger version of himself. Praying to the Norns his father wouldn't get whiff of it. "Sounds auspicious." Loki gave his father a nod, before asking again: "What is it you want to talk about?" Laufey took a breath. "The Allfather asked me for a favour..." His father's words caused Loki's expression to darken. He suddenly had a very bad feeling – and a guess. "Father, is this once again about me getting married? If so, I told you that I do not wish to get married now. I don't want to-" "It is not." Laufey interrupted his son's rant. "Even if I'd be more than just pleased, when you'd finally find a woman. It is long overdue. When I was your age, your mother was already pregnant with you. Our people are expecting this. They wish to see their future king finding his queen and provide an heir to the throne." The young prince rolled secretly his eyes, hearing this for the thousandth time. Oh how often he had this conversation with his father already. How often did they end up in a fight because of this… So, Loki tried to swallow his anger and pride. "I know, father, I know. I will get to it, I promise. I'm going to give the people what they want. Just not now." Laufey sighed, knowing that he had lost - like so often. What more could he do than telling his son over and over again?

"What is the favour the Allfather asked you to do then?" "Well… Strictly speaking, he is asking you." The raven-haired Jotun stopped in his tracks, quite surprised. "Me??" The king stopped in his movements as well, facing his son. "Yes. He needs a good warrior to train meticulously chosen Æsir. Someone who can turn them into soldiers within a month." Loki frowned. "What of prince Thor? He is a great warrior." "The crown prince is detained; currently stuck on Muspelheim for royal duties. If prince Thor's conversations with Surtur are not fruitful..." Loki quickly connected the dots. "Odin wants to be prepared." Laufey nodded. "Exactly." "But... Why me? There are great warriors on Asgard." The king placed a hand on his son's shoulder. "Because he wants the best."

That was how Loki, son of Laufey, crown prince of Jotunheim landed on Asgard a mere week later - ready and prepared to train a handful of amateurs. Men, who didn't even yield a weapon before. But the Allfather didn't ask Loki for nothing. If someone could handle this, it was him. Odin and Laufey were sure of it.

"A royal… warrior academy?" You asked your father, who sat across from you on the dining table. "Yes, my dear. In case your brother's attempts of negotiation fail, we have to be prepared - and given the fact that we don't have enough warriors, we need to train more men." "Why only men, father? What if there are women who'd like to become a warriors as well?" You spoke in a demanding voice, crossing your arms. "Because only men become warriors. You, of all, should know that, daughter." "What of Sif? Isn't she a warrior, too?" "Sif is an exception. The only exception." You felt how the anger started to rise within you. "What if I wanted to become a warrior, instead of a princess?" Your father scoffed, already hating where this conversation was going. "I am not discussing this with you again, Y/N. We've talked about this. Several times. I won't allow my only daughter to spend her days on the training grounds. You have other duties to tend to! Find a husband for example!" You looked away, gritting your teeth. You hated it. Just because you were a woman and highly interested in learning how to fight properly, didn't mean you'd neglect your duties as a princess. And yes. Sometimes you rather wished to be warrior and not a princess. But who were you to choose? You had no other choice than to accept the place you were in - like your father so often told you. But what if... An idea suddenly crossed your mind. Hiding the smile on your face, you told your father what he wanted to hear. "I beg you pardon, father. You are right, of course."

"You are planning to do what?!" Estrid - your personal maid turned best friend asked with wide, frightened eyes. The young woman shook her head. "Y-Your highness, that is... foolish and risky a-and-" You grabbed the girl's shaking shoulders, causing her eyes to fixate on you. "I know, Estrid, I know. But I have to do it. It's probably the only chance I will ever get in my whole life. Father is never going to let me on the training grounds and I can't always sneak into the old armoury to train. It's my dream, Estrid." Your friend sighed, again shaking her head. "I know, Y/N, but it's dangerous." You nodded. "It is. That's why I need you to maintain my cover. Can you do that for me? Please?" She swallowed, thoughts running at lightning speed through her brain. "I know I ask a lot from you, but please. You are my best friend. I trust you." A moment of silence passed, before Estrid started to nod, giving in. "Alright. Alright... I'll do it." A relieved breath left your lips. "Oh thank the Norns!" You lunged forward then, hugging the blonde-haired woman. "Thank you so much." Estrid offered you a nervous smile, nodding. "Don't worry. We are going to make this." Again a nod. "Do you even know who is going to lead the training?" You swallowed hard. "Yes. Prince Loki of Jotunheim." Once again the maid's eyes widened. "Prince Loki of Jotunheim? I heard he is a very cold, harsh man... And his father is a very good friend of the king. Y/N, this is really risky. You can only hope that he won't look through your charade... If he does, you are in big trouble..." "He won't, Estrid. He won't." "I hope so..." The woman stated, taking a short break before continuing. "Have you ever met prince Loki?" "Personally? No. I have seen him once, but that was ages ago. Thor sees him way more often, given the fact that he's the future king. Plus, they are kind of friends, so..." A cheeky smile darted over Estrid's face at your words. "He may be a cold and brutal Frost Giant, but I also heard that he is a very handsome man and an even greater lover. Hopefully you won't get distracted on your mission." You scoffed, shaking your head appalled. "Certainly not, Estrid. No man or prince will be able to distract me. Don't you worry."

Little did you know, that you were going to eat your words just a few days later...

"How do I look?" You asked Estrid as you stood in front of the full-length mirror in your chambers, eying your good work. The young maid stood beside you, mouth formed to a perfect 'o'. "You look... amazing, your highness..." She was visibly and audibly stunned. You were surprised, too. You didn't know that you were able to turn your appearance into a man that easily. You wore a traditional Asgardian tunic - male tunic. One that hid the curves which indicated you were a woman. You had cut your own hair quite a bit, turning it into a man bun. All your female features were mostly gone. It was breath-taking. "Yes, I do. It's almost terrifying." "Now you need to just work on a deeper voice and a more manly walk." You turned to meet Estrid. "By the Norns, you're right! I-I mean..." You cleared your throat and tried to lower your voice as deep as possible. "By the Norns, you're right!" Estrid broke out in giggles. "Not good?" "No, no, no, I mean... It's good, Y/N! It's perfect. All you have to do is work on your walk, but the rest... If you can keep that up, no one's going to notice it." "Let's hope then I can keep it up." Estrid nodded. "And now let's go. Unless you'll be late." You grabbed your things and sneaked with your friend through the secret passageway only you, Thor, Estrid and the Warriors Three knew of, out of the palace. "You know what to do?" "I know what to do. Don't worry, my princess." With a last goodbye and a hug, you swung yourself onto your horse (which Estrid had kindly prepared for you earlier) and rode off. Your parents thought you went on a 'learning journey' through Asgard, getting to know different plants and animals... Advanced training, so to speak. Estrid had the task to maintain the cover for you.

The training camp was on the outskirts of the city. It was about an hour ride away from the palace. You had managed to sneak into your father's office and write a fake name on the list, so you'd be surely awaited. And indeed... Two guards were standing in front of the big wooden doors. The piece of land was fenced by high, thick walls. You took a deep breath, as you neared the doors. This was your dream, wasn't it? All you ever wished for. Why were you so nervous now? Your horse came to an halt in front of the guards and you dismounted the horse, before you took a small bow to the guards. "I'm here for the royal training, in order to serve the king and Asgard." You spoke in your deepest voice possibly, hoping that the guards would buy it. They did. "Name?" One of them asked, eyes fixated on a list. "Váli Ákison." The guard's eyes roamed over the list, before he nodded. "Open the door." The door got opened for you, causing you to swing back onto your horse and ride inside the camp. Your eyes widened at the sight before you. There we a lot of beautifully crafted tents, alongside a big fireplace. Men were bustling around everywhere. Some of them in tunics like you. Some of them already dressed in traditional Asgardian armour and a few of them, which you recognised as palace guards. Excitement spread through your whole body.

After you were handed your armour and assigned a tent, you retreated into said tent to change. You were ready. More than ready for this.