#it's not canon it's a thought experiment :)

[canisalbus]

What if I told you that RoobrickMarine went and wrote an entire novella starring my 16th century dog couple? It's very canon-adjacent, well researched and thoughtfully put together, has inspired me a ton during these past months and it's now publicly available at AO3. I highly recommend it.

✦ Separation ✦

[bastardlybonkers]

feetman

[motorghost]

I have to rant about this part of A Study in Scarlet because... it seems to me that Holmes didn't just discover the hemoglobin test at the moment Stamford and Watson walked in. It seems more like he seized the first opportunity to tell ANYONE. Like he simply couldn't contain his joy and desperately needed to share it with an audience. He actually BOWS after giving Watson a demonstration.

Also... "I found it!" are the first words Watson hears from Holmes. He may as well mean "it" to be Watson. He's found IT: his audience, his best friend, his soul mate. His path in life.

This first interaction sets the pattern for their entire relationship: Holmes performing for the best and most high-value audience one could hope for while Watson gets front row tickets to the greatest show on earth. Five stars.

[clfixationstation]

people are arguing on twt over whether Mikasa or Historia understands Eren the best, when the clear answer is Armin

[beneathsilverstars]

i hc that baby siffrin had their gender on LOCK, figured the fuck out, extremely happy with their presentation and sense of self and any physical transition plans! and then when he forgot the island he forgot his gender too and it's been a much longer and shakier path figuring it out again </3

[vaguely-concerned]

the question is who taught lucanis to knit. was it something he already knew how to do or is he picking it up over the course of the game as part of his 'if I manage to cram enough hobbies in there I won't have to sleep again ever. easy' experiment. did he learn it out of a book (as a sometime knitter, a horrifying thought but I wouldn't put it past him). as hilarious as I find the mental image of caterina with knitting needles I do not believe in it, did he pick it up from someone in the household staff growing up the same way he did cooking. is the sweater he wears with his introductory armour his own work (very funny if so it's just so. incredibly neutral toned and sensible.) I understand why he never does it on screen because animating knitting is the devil's own work and bioware were right to dodge right past it no one should wish themselves that kind of pain, but do you think off-screen he's using it the same way davrin does whittling during team meetings and book club nights (for real the grandmas were so right for this: knitting during social group situations is a neurodivergent life hack like you wouldn't believe if doodling isn't your thing/isn't doing it for you). it's that or sharpening his knives and some people seem to get a bit nervous about that so he mostly sticks to the knit one purl one of it all. does he make things for the team. for romanced rook perhaps. boring but useful things like socks and scarves, to be clear. I think mr. 'I made you a cake (cautiously marital intent)' would not mean to impress just make sure your feet weren't cold jogging around the heights of athim killing darkspawn. knitting more socks for harding so she won't get cold walking around everywhere in her fereldan *checks notes written on palm* clogs. some of taash' outfits... you think rook and lucanis are letting them walk around the anderfels like that without at least a token sensible scarf on even tho adaari are built different in terms of body temperature. I say no not in my lighthouse they would team up and mother hen them to shathann levels before they'd let that happen. (the scarf has dragons on it taash thinks it's kind of cool actually.) a bobble hat for manfred not because he really needs it but because he wanted to feel included. assan indignantly tries to steal it and fly away with it so he gets his own scarf to promote peace between the lighthouse little guys and it works. help.

[faragonart]

Fun fact! Raen au ra have blue tongues!

Vatii seemingly likes this new information... Fun Fun!

[chaotic-minds-think-alike]

Very lazy but I think the final idea for monsterifying my avatar

Z-643 is a previously assumed humanoid figure obscured by a viscous substance resembling oil. The consistency of the fluids it produces is that of blood and is incredibly toxic when come into contact with, causing fatigue and vertigo. Long term exposure, be more than a minute within contact, can create nausea, loss of balance, and even stronger effects of dizziness, eventually leading to affected individuals to fall unconscious and quickly perish. Autopsy reports show that the blood of these victims is entirely changed into the same substance Z-643 produces, although translucent and lacking any of the more dangerous side effects. Further testing shows that Z-643’s blood also causes intense brain activity similar to that of REM sleep even if the individual is fully conscious, causing them to see vivid hallucinations.

If Z-643 is cornered in any way, it’ll feel threatened and let out a infrasonic scream that gradually becomes audible to any listeners as it rapidly destroys the eardrums and promptly kills them. Interaction with Z-643 must be careful and predictable as it’s sight is incredibly sharp, almost seeming like it can anticipate things before they happen. It will rarely move when observed directly as it assumes anything is a threat until proven otherwise. When not directly observed, Z-643 feels safe enough to slowly trudge its containment cell, stopping to stare at anything that piques its interest.

Z-643 can detect eye contact much more keenly when it is on the move. If it detects it’s being observed while it’s moving, it’ll quickly search for a place to hide, preferably where it has a good view of the area that it’s in. Observation through any other means such as cameras do not stir Z-643.

GRAND ENCOUNTER - “ red light green light “

As the player opens the door to the Fallen Angel encounter, they will hear a ringing and be briefly disoriented

The room is a long heavy containment hallway with scratches and puddles of Z-643’s blood as well as various furniture strewn about

There are marks on the ceiling where Z-643 climbed into its position, causing its blood to drip down and possibly hit (and hurt) the player

Z-643 is in a tired state and thus occasionally will close its eyes, player has to move between these periods and stop when it opens its eyes again

Hazards in the room urge the player to keep moving even when Z-643 is observing, this encounter is a test of nerve and patience

Because of the room’s damaged state, lights will flicker and occasionally go out completely, but because any light sources will alert Z-643 of your presence you are forced to navigate without them

When you reach the end of the encounter, Z-643 will retract away from the doorway but continue to monitor you (it won’t aggro at this point)

[stealingyourbones]

Submitted Prompts #144

*shakes a bag of bird skulls I found in the woodsI and places it on your desk like it's a bag of gold*

I had an idea:

What if the Fenton parents are, in fact very competent Hunters, but they love their children more than their work?

Say the first shot Maddie ever fired at Phanton actually lands, and the scream he makes sounds too much like Danny's voice, to a point even with any ghostly distortion, his own still recognizes the voice.

I can see her pulling Jack to the side, making a ruckus about how the "darn ghost got away just as her blaster ran out of juice". Mostly as a way to get Danny her darling son to leave and go somewhere safe, while his parents have a whole breakdown in the GAV about their dead son.

And so begins the stealthy studies on how Phantom's "human disguise" works, the Revelation of Horrible Truth, keeping tabs on Danny's growth and revising their whole attitude on Ghosts to account for the fact that Danny himself is, at least in some part, a Ghost himself, but all he's done is live his life (and be the little hero Mom always said he'd grow up to be).

Jazz stumbles across his secret and is immediately pulled aside to join the secret "Protect the Baby Ghost" family group chat.

"And what about all the times they shot at him in canon" I hear you ask?

They're damn good shots, but while Maddie can train herself to aim just so that the shot misses just enough it looks like Phantom dodged it, Jack has the Fenton Bazooka outfitted with a tracking HUD that purposely fails to hit everyone's favorite Ghost Boy.

Danny picks up on that, but not on the fact that They Know.

And so begins the single most convoluted training arc ever.

Next time Skulker's in town, Phantom has become untouchable. Not a single shot or electrified net reaches it's target.

(The electrified weapons in particular send the Fentons into a rage when Sam and Tucker finally can't keep hiding it, and come clean about what happened, since the Fentons have proven themselves to be trustworthy)

When Red Huntress comes about, and Valerie Grey becomes barely a distant acquaintance after having only just now started becoming more than a friend, and with the GIW sniffing about, Maddie and Jack pull Danny to sit between them and finally tell him they know, and they want to prove that they'll love him just as much as before, whether Human or Ghost.

Danny breaks down in the safety of his family's love, and takes some time off as Phantom to help his parents establish a proper line of communication with the Ancients, considering they've kinda adopted themselves into the roles of Aunts and Uncles towards their little Ghostling.

Which is a good thing, because in Phantom's absence the GIW make a giant spectacle of destroying several houses while chasing some blob ghosts. They're chased out of town by brick, stone and metal bat.

Next time Red Huntress actually manages to hurt Danny, the Fentons pack up and leave. The Portal can be transported somewhere else. It can be rebuilt.

Their baby boy can't be rebuilt, no matter how much he likes to be a little shit and ignore Reality to quote Shakespeare at his own head (thank you Mr Lancer, for not giving up on him) or "give them a hand".

As Fenton takes the last tour of Amity, Phantom disappears. The Protal has been left seemingly unguarded.

The Ghosts decide to have one last hurrah in Anity Park before Danny closes the Portal, as per their deal. They won't hurt anyone, just cause chaos, but in return Phantom won't stop them. It's not like poor Red has the energy to chase them down, now that she's been "upgraded" into Amity's sole defender (the one time Lancer compares her new lack of sleep to Danny's, horrifying pieces start lining up too well in her mind)

The Fentons move out. Into a quiet farm neighbouring the land that belongs to the delightful couple that are the Kents, and their darling son, little Clark, who stares at Danny mildly horrified whenever he comes by to babysit, or help out with fixing the stubborn tractor. One day under Danny's clever hands, and Jonathan Kent's eagle-eyed gaze, and that damned tractor has never worked so well before. The boy's alright in the old man's eyes, and he makes sure they kid knows it.

After quiet rooftop admissions of one small boy's growing powers (I know Adult Clark is a brick house of a man, but what if he was a little twig while young) and the reveal of Something More Than Human from his honorary older brother, the course of Time sets into it's best version, and an Old Clock smiles, as Superman rises, only to be scolded by Spectre for recklessness.

(Dunno how well it came across, but I'm envisioning Valerie's feelings towards Danny to go from bitter resignation because she " had to" push him away, to horrified despair when the truth starts falling into place. He's her "the one that got away". And it's not like she gave him much of a reason to trust her with his secrets.

Maybe older and wiser Red Huntress gets invited to the Justice League, and has to deal with not just Fenton, but also Phantom flirting with her, after a good long conversation on how dumb they both were as kids, and a mutual vow of "I think I can do better now, and I want to prove it to you")

[boarcide]

I truly think that one of the biggest tragedies in BEAST in regards to the Akutagawa siblings is that, at the core of it, Ryuunosuke viewed himself as a beast, and showed his love in a way a beast would, while Gin was the only person who ever saw him as human and judged him accordingly. She did not see a beast acting like a beast, the way everybody else did, she saw a human acting like a beast and it’s part of what drove her away.

The ADA saw their rookie detective at his worst, and watched—and continues to watch—him grow from a beast to a human over time. Consumed by hatred and only knowing how to be cruel, and slowly learning how to become human.

Gin saw her brother at his best—the best he could be in their situation—and then watched him grow from a boy to a beast within moments. The scraps of humanity that he had, all disappearing into rage so primal it no longer made him seem human.

[ohgeesoap]

Soap's journal entries concerning dogs. Typed out under the cut in case they're difficult to read.

Consider me a cat man now.

We overcame ultranationalists, chopper crashes, danger close with gunships, but a goddamn dog is what'll get me into an infirmary? Rabies, ridiculous. What a waste of time. Obviously can't tell Price or Gaz. Nikolai seems capable of keeping a secret. Probably keeps vials of vaccine vaulted with manifest intel, secretive bastard.

--

And no, I haven't exactly been on my booster shots. Think Nikolai said every two years but didn't think I'd be back in Russia so bloody soon. So yeah, was happy to follow Price and Roach over the net. Not just because it meant I was far from the mutts, but because I got to listen to the two of them working together like we once did. There was the same option: take out the target or let them him pass. Nice to hear Price taking Roach under his wing. Know the effect it can have.

[bruhstation]

can't it even be more obvious thomas. why are you surprised that a sudrian historical site filled to the brim with armor and weaponry that dates back to the middle ages has old people afflicted with the gold dust working around the castle

[bumblingbabooshka]

When the only person who might understand what happened- understand. Not sympathize or empathize or comfort you but understand what happened, isn't there anymore. Or: 'A Man Made Me Do Something I Didn't Want To', for when you can't talk about it or look it in the eye [Patreon | Commissions]

[jesncin]

I hope Superman fandom as a whole will one day understand that if you truly want to commit to the immigrant allegory, scenes like Lois shooting Clark with a gun or her jumping off a building to prove he's Superman pair really badly with that allegory.

I know some fans like to say "Superman was always an immigrant allegory" and while I get the sentiment of retroactively looking at how the lives of his creators inform the character they made, we also have to acknowledge that the allegory was never consistent to begin with. The original Superman comics were fun gags and shenanigans. Superman Smashes the Klan wouldn't stand out so much if his immigrant identity was consistently integral to his character.

And if you're going to commit to Superman being an immigrant, then you've got to be open to changes on staple Superman lore. So much of this fandom is dedicated to nostalgia, references, canon events, "but Lois does that in the comics! It's not Lois Lane if she doesn't do crazy things to prove who Superman is!" without considering how that is contextualized in the allegory.

I still get so many comments on my Clois comics but especially the Private Interview comic saying "I've never seen Superman this way before" from even longtime fans of the character. Honestly, I never saw him that way until I read Smashes the Klan. Since then I want people to have that recognition of themselves in him too. But that means being brave with changes! Maybe it's okay for this version of Lois to respect Superman's boundaries. Maybe an Asian Lois can be more than an aesthetic shallow retread of white Lois.

These characters are more than callbacks and references. The reason they persist throughout many versions is because they hold themes. Lois isn't just "stunt girl reporter obsessed with Superman and THE TRUTH", she's also a jaded reporter hardened by life who finds hope again in Superman. Superman isn't just "save cats from trees" guy. He's an alien immigrant, and you can make a ton of new stories from that lens alone.

[protagaster]

Part 6 of the Warrior!Penelope Swap AU

Sigh.....

These vignettes tend to average around 3,000 to 4,000 words. Not bad, if I have to say so myself. After all, Blue and I put a lot of work, time, and effort into trying to make these fics as amazing as we physically can.

But, this one...

Do you know how long it is!? 7,000 WORDS!

AAAAAHHHHHHHH!!

...

You're all lucky we love you guys so much! Here's an extra long chapter, just for being the amazing readers you are!

Editor/Co-Author/Sister in Sin: the one, the only, @somereaderinblue (GeminiWillow on Ao3)! Gods, how lucky I am to have you by my side!

(Cross-Posted on Ao3)

Keep Your Friends Close

Penelope and her crew try to navigate the waters back to Ithaca, but a devastating storm threatens to capsize their fleet. In order to get through the storm safely, Penelope decides to take the chance and ask for the Wind God’s assistance. 

While Aeolus agrees to help, trapping the storm in a bag and tasking Penelope to keep it secured, the Ruler of Winds does not plan to make the task an easy one. Penelope is prepared to do whatever it takes to keep the bag closed, no matter what Aeolus tries throwing at her.

Little does Penelope know, Aeolus was not whom she needed to worry about… 

~

Penelope knew she didn’t have much time. 

The raging storm blocking her fleet from progressing toward their desired destination had momentarily calmed. The waters may have quieted, but the dark clouds and surrounding mist still obscured practically every view and path within their line of sight. 

Penelope knew that her only chance to get past the storm and make it back home with all her remaining women intact was to enlist the help of the divine, regardless of how well that turned out, or rather, ended last time...

Specifically, in this case, the God of Winds, Aeolus. 

Looking at the flimsy rope ladder that led to the Wind God’s cloudy kingdom, Penelope couldn’t help the tidal wave of emotions that flooded her heart and mind: determination, excitement, and ever-present anxiety.

Determination, for Penelope knew the only way to make it past the storm was with the Wind God’s help. The mortal was nothing if not resolute, willing to do whatever it took and say anything she needed to ensure the God lended them the necessary aid to make it back home. 

Excitement, because Penelope knew they weren’t far from home. With the Wind God’s assistance Penelope would soon be stepping foot on the moist, golden sands of Ithaca’s beaches, relishing in the comforts of a shelter supplied with a warm bed springing with life and delicious food with smells so delectable they could already be tasted, none of it comparing to the way she would melt in the very real embrace of her loving husband and beautiful daughter. 

However, much as she loathed to admit it, there was also that tiny sense of dread that threatened to overtake Penelope’s beautiful fantasy… 

Anxiety, taking into account all of Penelope’s past experiences involving the Gods during the past ten years. Hera, who ordered her to do something horrible under the pretense “lesser of two evils”, and Ares… 

Nope, Penelope thought to herself with a quick smack to her forehead, she couldn’t think about that right now. 

At this very moment, Penelope needed to focus on her crew and making it back home. As long as she remained focused, vigilant, and resolute, Penelope’s fantasy would soon become reality. She didn’t need immortality or even fame. Just her home, family and safety.

Letting out a deep breath, though not as steady as she would have preferred, Penelope took hold of the long rope ladder that led to the entrance of the lofty cloud domain. 

Unwilling to waste even a second, Penelope began to climb her way into the floating island that housed the ruler of the winds. 

Before she got too far up though, Penelope took the time to look down and give her sister a reassuring gaze.  

Meanwhile, back down on the deck of the main ship, Ctimene watched anxiously, arms wrapped around herself, as her captain climbed higher and higher toward the isle of clouds. From a god condensed into the feathery constraints of a vulture in disguise to a giant wooden horse and now this. Oh, what stories she’ll have to tell!

She was still held up about her and Penelope’s argument from moments ago, not at all a spat but certainly not something that would be considered a “friendly disagreement”. Ctimene knew it was wrong to publicly question the woman who was her captain, queen, sister-in-law, and best friend. Others who held even one of those stations have screamed treason and unforgiving betrayal for less.

Right here, out at sea, away from the comforts of Ithaca and outside the bounds of their husbands’ embrace, Ctimene and Penelope were all each other had. Especially now, with Circes no longer in the picture… 

Sure they had their crew, women who showed only the utmost respect and unwavering loyalty despite the difficulties they faced during the last ten years; first as a homemaker, then as a soldier. Sisters-in-arms, who all accepted their lives would no longer be their own upon accepting a God’s permission to bear arms and still choosing to learn the ways of the warrior to fight for their futures. 

But there was something different, something special, about the bond Penelope and Ctimene shared that couldn’t be emulated with the rest of the crew. 

Upon her arrival to Ithaca, the very first woman Ares and Penelope taught the ways of a warrior to was Ctimene, with Circes following shortly after. Heck, it even got to the point where Ares began to grow fond of Ctimene! Or, well, as fond as a timeless embodiment could be for a being who won’t experience even one-tenth that they have. Not as much as he did Penelope, mind you, but enough to where the God allowed Ctimene to accompany their personal training sessions and even let her see him when other mortals couldn’t. 

The point was, amongst Ares’ band of Ithacan female warriors, Penelope and Ctimene were the very first. She daresay they were mavericks even. Would it be hard to believe then, that the bond the two women shared grew to be much deeper than with any of their comrades? 

But now, after the deaths of those 72 women, Penelope had lost Ares’ favor. The crew wasn’t stupid, they noticed right away when Penelope lost her divine luster and ironclad confidence. Sure she still had her rigorous years of training, above-average physical prowess, and devastatingly cunning mind, but how long would they aid her until she was out of her depth? 

How long would Penelope be able to rely on her own mortal strength and wit, before her luck ran out and it cost them all? Before it cost them everything-

No.

Stop.

Ctimene exhaled a long, heavy sigh that left her body no lighter than before. She shouldn’t let herself linger on this, she scolded herself. 

Penelope is a good leader. 

That first year of war she led the kingdom well, better than Ctimene’s parents would have even without Odysseus by her side. Later, when the men returned so damaged that everyone thought they were beyond repair, it was Penelope who guided them and their loved ones toward a steady recovery; Ctimene remembered how thankful she was to her sister for this, for her brother and husband were slowly returning to their former selves, physically and emotionally. 

Even when it was revealed that the eligible women of Ithaca would be forced to fight in their husband’s steads, Penelope did not weep in fear as Ctimene and others did. No, Penelope raised her head high with her spear held proudly, declaring that as long as her female warriors listened to her they would have no need to worry for their lives. How easy it’d been to believe her, their queen who’d been born a Spartan princess and taken under Ares’ wing before she was a woman.

And she was right. 

Penelope led all 600 of her women through almost a decade of war with their lives intact. There were many scars and even more injuries, but not once was a pyre lit for an Ithacan soldier. Those 72, they were a devastating accident no one could have predicted. As long as they continued to listen to Penelope, the remaining 528 would be able to give them as proper a funeral rite they could given the circumstances. 

… 

Right. So long as the crew listens. 

So long as Ctimene listens.

~

After a few minutes of climbing Penelope found herself at a dead end. There was no more rope for her to cling onto, for the ladder ended underneath a giant white cloud. 

Squinting at where rough fibers met condensed vapor, Penelope noticed the ladder looked as if it were connected to the fluffs of wind themselves. 

Tentatively reaching a hand out, Penelope’s suspicions were confirmed when her hand reached into the cloud and grabbed hold of even more rope. Continuing her climb while phasing through gusts of wind Penelope soon found herself at the true end of the rope ladder, which was held down by a rainbow nail. 

Pushing herself up, Penelope was almost surprised to feel her feet land on a sturdy, swishing ground made entirely of cloud. Looking around, the mortal noticed several strange pieces of cloud-architecture building and toppling themselves after every few minutes, as if their creator was not satisfied with their appearance. 

Wait, their creator! The owner of this floating isle of clouds!

Penelope cleared her throat, a couple puffs of cloud flying out, before calling out her plea in a regal voice reserved for war councils and battlefields. 

“Great Wind God, Aeolus, I don't know if you know this but our path to home is blocked by an impenetrable storm.”

Penelope turned left to right, this way and that, hoping to find the enigmatic ruler of this island.

…

Nothing. 

Well, legends did account that Aeolus was one of the more… playful Gods, one of the many tricksters to grace the heavens. Perhaps they were waiting for Penelope to look for them, sort of like an every-day game of hide and seek?

If so, Penelope would just have to oblige. 

“I ask for your assistance, so we at last can go the distance,”

Penelope searched every corner of the cloudy isle, running to search through fluffy white architecture before it was toppled and gently parting large tufts of soft fog in search of the God. 

So far, still no luck. 

“Can you cast the perfect winds for us and aid our journey home?”

From the corner of her eye Penelope noticed one of the nearby clouds gently shake, as if something was hiding inside of it. Carefully, Penelope parted the foggy white clumps in hopes of it held the one she was looking for-

… 

Nothing? 

Penelope tilted her head, confusion evident in her features. She was so sure that she saw- 

POOF!

Penelope jumped back, startled when someone appeared out of nowhere inside that same parted cloud. 

The person looked as if they were one with the clouds themselves, their body made of the same airy substance. However, unlike the various clouds surrounding them, their body, robes, and waist-length hair would fade from white to a very light blue. Their eyes, glowing in place of pupils, were also colored this same shade. 

They had a triumphant smile on their face, like they were pleased with having “won” this little game of hide-and-seek.

“Ha ha ha!”

The deity sprung out of their hiding place, playfully flying around Penelope like a hummingbird.

“I am the wind, twisting and turning, I give the fire enough to stay burning.” 

This was Aeolus, God of the Winds. They looked Penelope up and down, scrutinizing every detail both physical and spiritual. They grinned, tapping thier cheek with a finger as an idea came to mind. 

“Let's play a game.”

“A game?” Penelope tilted her head. 

“That's what I'm serving.” Aeolus shrugged nonchalantly. “And if you win, you will get what you're yearning.” 

A game? Really? Is that really all Aeolus wanted in exchange for Penelope and her crew to safely tread the stormy seas? 

No, the Gods were never that straightforward (and she would know). Penelope just knew there had to be more to it than that. However… 

She DID vow to do and say whatever she needed to in order to secure the God’s assistance. The captain would just have to ensure she remained extra vigilant to this God’s antics. And, should Tyche be merciful, perhaps Aeolus would find better entertainment sooner or later.

“Deal.” Penelope said, holding her hand out to seal the deal. 

Aeolus reached out to shake the mortal’s hand, only to fake out at the last second and pull their hand away. Judging from the mortal’s reaction, she had not planned on the God committing such an action. 

Aeolus smiled, ecstatic to have tricked the human woman for a second time, before manifesting a plain brown bag into their hand. 

“Take a look right here at this bag.” 

The Wind God flew toward the ocean’s horizon in a blur of their namesake. They collected every single dark and gloomy cloud both nearby and in the distance as though they were naught but scattered drachmas, throwing them all inside the brown bag. Soon, the only clouds visible were those that were beautiful, light, and gentle. 

The God returned to float in front of Penelope, playfully shaking the now full brown bag. 

“It has the winds of the storm all trapped!”

Aeolus sealed the bag with a rainbow tie, plopping it right into Penelope’s hands as if it were nothing. 

“All you gotta do is not open this bag.”

Penelope tested the weight of the bag in her hands. Physically it was surprisingly light, as a cloud or gust of air usually is, but the weight of what it represented made up for its lack of density, turning into a heavy burden on Penelope’s shoulders. 

Something wasn’t right about this. 

The seal on the bag was secured nice and tight. Even if an accident occurs where she is forced to drop the bag or leave it outside of her hands, it wouldn’t be enough for the bag to open by itself. It needed to be opened willfully, by a pair of hands purposefully unsealing the rainbow tie. That was an easy enough task to accomplish simply on its own. 

Was the game Aeolus proposed truly meant to be such a straightforward one? 

Penelope looked up, masking her internal suspicion with a cockiness fueled by false courage.

“Sounds too easy, what's the catch?”

That mischievous glare in Aeolus’ glowing eyes sharpened, proving Penelope’s initial theory correct. 

“Ha ha ha!” 

Aeolus snapped their fingers, summoning a group of tiny adorable creatures that looked strikingly similar to the lotus eaters from before; these one though, instead of being covered with fuzzy dark fur, looked like they were made of little fluffy clouds ranging from the white of winter to the light blue of skies. 

These creatures collected individual puffs of clouds, stacking them atop each other and shaping each one into the rough form of a human woman. 

“Keep your friends close and your enemies closer!” Aeolus replied with a little teasing “boop” to Penelope’s nose. 

“Never really know who you can trust…” Their little cloud creatures chorused in unison. 

Chillingly, Penelope couldn’t help but notice how each one looked almost exactly like one of her crew members back on the main ship. The cloud-women ran simultaneously to ambush her, each one trying to grab hold of the wind bag. 

“If they wanna get the bag open, you gotta say ‘no, sir’.”

“Sometimes killing is a must.”

Penelope, after dodging each cloud-person and striking them to evaporation, paused and stared at that little tidbit. Suddenly, the cool air of her cloudy surroundings grew chilling.

“What?”

“'Cause the end always justifies the means.” Aeolus took Penelope’s hands and spun her playfully, deliberately ignoring her question. 

“Friends turn into foes and rivalries…” The creatures echoed in the background, almost mockingly. 

“So keep your friends close and your enemies closer!” Aeolus gently pet Penelope one final time, akin to how a child would an adorable new pet fresh off the teat of its dame. 

The touch was not rough, but it made goosebumps shudder across her skin. Mortals were not meant to touch the clouds and vice versa it seems.

“Never really know who you can trust…” 

The combined words of Aeolus and their little cloudy companions echoed in Penelope’s mind as she returned to the rope ladder, continuing to take over her thoughts even while she climbed down those coiled fibers and inched closer to her waiting ship.

Whatever it was the God and their little minions tried to insinuate, Penelope hadn’t the faintest clue yet.

Never really know who you can trust…

Quicker than it took to climb the swaying ladder, Penelope soon felt her feet ground themselves from rope step to wooden floor.

The first to notice their captain’s reappearance were the two youngest crew members aboard the main ship (and even in the entire fleet): Pelagia and Erato. 

Pelagia, the shorter, slightly older, and more assertive of the two, was quick to notice the strange brown bag attached to Penelope’s hip, its rainbow string a shiny lure.

“Captain, what's happening?” Pelagia asked with a pointed finger. 

Erato, the tallest, slightly timid, youngest member of the entire crew, followed her best friend’s pointed finger and in turn noticed what she was staring at.

“What's trapped in that bag?” The two youngsters asked in unison, their combined interest bringing it to the entire main ship’s attention. 

Penelope had prepared for this on her way back down. 

The rules of her and Aeolus’ little “game” stipulated that they were to keep the bag open at all costs. As long as she informed her crew of this, of how important it was to never have it opened, they would be alright. 

“Something dangerous, friends,” Penelope took hold of the bag, trying to emphasize her point. “We mustn't lag-”

“It's treasure!” Aeolus’ little minions interrupted, seemingly appearing out of nowhere and floating aimlessly near the bag. 

The two words they spoke struck the entire crowd like thunder.

Penelope’s eyes widened as she slowly turned her head to glare at the cloud creatures. 

“What?” 

“Buh-bye!” The creatures disappeared, just like that. 

Of course… 

She should’ve known, she should’ve expected this…

Penelope could feel her heart quicken, every heartbeat rapid and faster than her blood and breath could follow. A cold sweat dripped from her forehead to the back of her neck, her occupied hand and throat closing instinctively tighter. 

This is what the Wind God meant by turning her plea into a game.

THIS is what Aeolus and the cloud creatures were warning her about with their cryptic words.

Proving her point, many crew members already began to approach Penelope about the mysterious bag. Pelagia and Erato, already in close approximation, tried to take hold of the bag kept in their captain’s rigid grip. 

“Open the bag.” Pelagia said.

“Let's see what you got.” Erato added.

Breaking out of her stupor, Penelope clutched the wind bag closer to her chest. 

“No, do not!”

Every crewmember approaching her halted, confused as to why their captain would react in such a manner. She clung to the bag more insistently than a newborn babe to their mother’s breast.

“Everybody listen closely-” Penelope’s entire demeanor was a serious one, her expression, tone, and posture as assertive and commanding as it would be back on her throne; if one had to specifically describe it, the closest comparison would be a mother scolding her children to keep them in line. 

Penelope lifted the bag high enough for everyone to see, pointing specifically at its rainbow string keeping it tightly shut. 

“See how this bag is closed? That's how it's supposed to be!”

She then gestured toward the horizon, forcing the crew to look at the clear blue skies and gentle ocean waves. 

“This bag has the storm inside! We cannot let the treasure rumor fly!” 

Aeolus’ little trick complicated things, a lot. Still, even with this wrench thrown at her, Penelope’s original plan had some standing! 

Her crew was a loyal one; they had proved it time and time again by heeding each one of her commands no matter how ridiculous or outlandish they may have seemed in the moment. They fought together, killed together, kept her and each other safe from men twice their size and thrice their strength with nothing more than cunning, stealth, and effective leadership. 

So long as they remembered this, so long as they continued to heed Penelope’s words, then Aeolus’ little “game” would end in victory. 

The crew seemed to have agreed, for the most part. 

“We'll try.” Pelagia, Erato, and some of the other women affirmed, albeit not too surely. 

The majority of the women returned to their positions, though some of them allowed their eyes to linger on the bag far longer than Penelope would have liked. The only one who didn’t was Ctimene, for she found herself unable to tear her eyes away from the brown bag… 

~ The fleet of 12 ships continued to set sail and stay their course. Night after night, day after day, the weather stayed sunny and breezy whilst the water below remained calm yet strong. 

Aeolus and their wind minions (winions, as Penelope began to call them in her thoughts) continued to tread closely behind the Ithacan ships, eager to keep track of how the mortal and her retinue were faring in their little “trust exercise”.

“Keep your friends close and your enemies closer!” Aeolus would coo from above, taking note of how weary and restless the women aboard the main ship were beginning to grow. 

“Never really know who you can trust…” The crew chanted as they rowed, this growing feeling of discourse spreading amongst them. 

“Never really know who you can trust…” The winions would repeat, as if affirming this feeling inside the crewmembers. 

Aeolus observed the way Penelope stood at the edge of her ship’s helm, looking over the ocean’s path and her sailing crew in timely intervals. As days continued to pass with the ships traversing closer and closer to Ithaca, not once did Penelope allow herself more than a couple minutes of shut-eye. 

Despite her earlier words, Penelope knew the dangers of temptation far too well. She just couldn’t risk letting herself fall into slumber, lest one of the others try and open the bag whilst she slept, if not out of greed then curiosity.

She couldn’t let herself grow compliant when they were so close to home yet still not there.  

“Now they wanna get the bag open so they can have closure…”

Aeolus, watching all of this go on from above, noticed how one crew member in particular would inch closer and closer everytime Penelope dozed off longer and longer…

“Sometimes sneaking is a must…” “Sometimes sneaking is a must…”

A few more days, a few more nights. The women would all take turns rowing, resting, completing the litany of chores a ship needs to stay afloat, rowing, sleeping and repeat the daily cycle. The only woman who did not allow herself the luxury of sleep or rest was Penelope, who still held the bag close to her chest. She barely even ate, unable to stomach anything and unwilling to risk having either hand occupied on the off chance another’s tried to touch the bag. However, it was clear to the crew how exhausted their captain was growing based on her sluggish movement and bagged eyes.

Aeolus couldn’t help growing excited, for they could feel the scales of their and Penelope’s “game” tipping in their favor with each time the sun rose then set. 

“Cause the end always justifies the means,”

The crew looked at their captain, unable to keep themselves from thinking of how much she’s changed since the conflict in Troy came to an end. 

Ctimene herself was the most critical of this change, especially considering the time in which it prominently began revealing itself. 

“Everything's changed since Circes, so-”

Aeolus relaxed against their bed of clouds, gazing into the horizon a few dozen klicks away from where the ships currently sailed. From where they lay in the sky they could see a beautiful island filled with sandy beaches, luscious greenery, and a stunning palace waiting not too far in the distance. 

Still, the Wind God wasn’t worried. This right here was the climax of their little “game”, and everything exciting always happens near the end. 

Doubt, wariness, exhaustion, and the need to satiate always made for one delicious recipe of disaster.

“Keep your friends close and your enemies closer.”

“Never really know who you can trust…” 

“Never really know who you can trust…”

Back down to the ocean, on the main ship leading the other 11, the captain of the fleet definitely looked like she had seen better days. 

Penelope’s hair was frazzled, tangled and sticking up from where it was tied back. Her modest sailor’s tunic and skirt, fitted in consideration for her feminine physique, was wrinkled haphazardly with no consideration for appearance; even her sandals were not tied as neatly as they should have been. Worse of all was her face, for her beauty turned haggard under days worth of neglect and dark eye bags weighed her once keen eyes. 

Penelope, despite her obvious need for sleep, did all she could to keep herself awake. Everything ranging from pacing and slapping her cheeks to talking to herself and singing to the waves like a madwoman. Some of the phrases she said here and there were coherent enough for the others to hear, but Penelope was so deep in her fatigue that she couldn’t even discern half the things rolling off her tongue at that point. 

Right now, inside this liminal state of paranoid awareness and sleep-deprived tiredness, it was curiously the moment Penelope found herself to be completely conscious despite her exhaustion. 

“For nine days I've stayed wide awake, trying to make it home with no storm or tidal wave,” 

Penelope looked down, just in case her body’s sensation of touch had betrayed her. Sure enough, the bag of winds was still tucked safe and securely inside her arms. From an outside perspective, it looked like she was hugging it. 

“I remain unopposed, the bag is still closed, and I'm getting closer to you…”

Penelope shut her eyes. Only for a second, she told herself. 

While her eyes were shut Penelope felt a familiar warm breeze, the gust smelling of sand and freshwater, caressing her cheeks; she could smell Ithaca’s signature foods and hear the island’s melodious tunes, so close and detailed it practically felt like she was already there. 

Reopening her eyes, Penelope found she was no longer leaning against the mast of her ship. Instead, she was standing before the entrance of one of her most favorite places in the entire kingdom: the royal bedchamber’s outside balcony. 

The handmade wooden doors, bleached white and carved lovingly, opened on their own to display what was outside. 

There he was, only an arm’s length away, leaning against the balcony’s railing.

His back was turned whilst he looked out over the ocean’s horizon, donning the casual robes he only wore for private lounging and sporting the leather brace meant to bring relief to his shoulder, something he only put on in the presence of those he trusted. His dark wavy hair swayed with the wind’s breeze; his tanned skin, slightly darker than his wife's, shined warmly against the sun’s golden beams. 

He turned, his different colored eyes meeting her ocean black ones.

“Odysseus…”

Her husband’s name was music to Penelope’s ears, sounding like a soothing lullaby.

Penelope couldn’t help but let herself get lost in his eyes, deep browns that displayed an intense combination of intelligence, kindness, and adoration. Those eyes, the very first thing that drew her to Odysseus back when they were only teenage acquaintances, had the same effect on her now as they did 16 years ago. 

His lips split into a smile, small and soft and comforting with everything it offered. It was just like Penelope remembered it, exactly what she longed to see after being so cruelly taken away from him for almost a decade. 

There really was no doubt about it; even though he had inevitably aged, the same as any mortal after such a long stretch of time, Odysseus would no doubt be even more gorgeous now than he was 9 years ago…

Penelope slowly let her guard down simply because of his mere presence. 

“I can't wait to resume our happiness…”

A little girl suddenly appeared by Odysseus’ side, one whose hair and eye color strikingly matched his. She shyly held his hand while looking up at Penelope, her bashful smile somehow a perfect combination of the husband and wife’s. 

Penelope knew right away the identity of this little girl. It was her baby, no longer an infant of one year but a child of ten. 

“Telemachas…”

Penelope let out a serene sigh upon hearing her daughter’s name, her heart soaring with utter bliss. 

Telemachas’ little details, like her facial features and the length of her hair, would change shape every once in a while. Sometimes she would adopt more of Ody’s characteristics while other times she took more after Penelope’s attributes. However, this did nothing to frighten or deter Penelope; if anything, it did the exact opposite. 

After almost an entire decade of being torn apart by order of the Gods, Penelope would finally be reunited with her greatest and more precious treasure. No more would she have to fantasize about the face her little girl grew into, for soon enough she would be able to see and memorize every real detail with her own two eyes. Would she have moles? Freckles from the sun? Scars from accidents? Dimples on her cheeks?

Soon, they would be able to do everything Penelope fantasized about doing with her daughter: navigating the trials of womanhood, teaching her to fight as a warrior, simply doing what they enjoy, whether it be weaving, swimming, singing, or some other lovely activity, as long as they were by each other’s side…

Oh, how lovely it all sounded.

“Time for me to be the mother I never was!” 

Odysseus and Telemachas approached Penelope, her husband wrapping his arms around her shoulders in a steady, gentle embrace while her daughter carefully pried her clenched fingers open and placed their hands atop each other’s.

‘Just keep your eyes open…’

Penelope tried to lean into Odysseus’ embrace, tried to intertwine her and Telemachas’ fingers, only for her family to slowly distance themselves from her presence.

Penelope’s heart sunk as her family moved farther and farther away from her at such a fast rate. She tried to run back to them, wanting nothing more than to return to that embrace. However, Penelope suddenly felt her body, heart, and even her very spirit grow heavy with… something.

Whatever it was, it turned her into an anchor, slowly sinking to the bottom while her husband and child disappeared out of reach like driftwood.

“Why are my eyes and my heart and my soul so heavy?”

Looking back up at them, Penelope saw that the contentment on her Odysseus and Telemachas had been replaced with worry, unease, and bone-deep anxiety. 

But of what, Penelope wondered nervously.

‘Just keep your eyes open…’

What is it, Penelope thought raggedly as her breath grew short and her lungs burned, what was making them so nervous that they moved farther away with every step she took to reach them? 

What was keeping them so far away even when they were already so close to each other? 

“I keep on trying to embrace you both, why won't you let me?”

‘Just keep your eyes open…’ Her family answered in response, concern so very evident in their tones.

But of what?

…

Wait …

Peneleope felt her thoughts quickly derail; bated breath, welling eyes, and a cold sweat quick to follow. 

Was… 

Was it Penelope herself? Was she the thing they were so afraid of…

But-

That…

That can’t be it! It just can’t!

They didn’t have anything to worry about! Penelope is still the same woman she was before that fateful day 9 years ago!

Even if Penelope has done things over the last decade she was not proud of, things that will haunt her to the Underworld, said things she wished she could take back, and watched helplessly as others who didn’t deserve to lost their lives, none of it defined who she was! 

She was still Penelope, strong yet wise, stubborn but patient, daring and still careful! The very same woman who stuck by her ideals no matter how hard it was at times.

“So much has changed but I'm the same!” Penelope cried desperately, believing wholeheartedly in her words. Because they were true…

Yes, yes that’s right! Her words did ring true!

Right now, at this moment, this one single instance that marked the possible end to her journey, Penelope, exactly as she was the moment she left Ithaca, would be the same one to once again set foot in her home!

And this Penelope would never let herself become a monster. 

“Yes I'm the same!”

Penelope, with brand new resolve, was able to take the steps she needed to finally be within reaching distance of the two loves of her life. Just one more step and they would be in each other’s arms once more…

‘Just keep your eyes open…’

One. 

More.

Step… 

Just keep your eyes open…

Penelope collapsed, that last step impossible to take on her own. However, she did not fall to the ground. Instead, she landed inside the firm embrace of Odysseus’ arms. 

“...wake up…” 

Penelope’s vision grew blurry. Looking up, she was just barely able to make out Odysseus’ face.

Wait a second… 

Penelope squinted her eyes, unsure if they were deceiving her. Why were his eyes so wide and full of panic-

“Wake up!”

Odysseus suddenly gripped his wife’s shoulders, his expression frantic and voice filled to the brim with raw desperation. 

“Penelope, they're opening the bag, WAKE UP!”

Penelope’s eyes, her real ones in the real world, snapped open. She threw herself up into a sitting position, no longer laying against the mast…

Wait. Closed eyes… laying against the mast…

Oh no…

No. No. No. No. No. No…

BY THE GODS NO! 

She- she let herself sleep! Penelope let her guard down!

She looked down at her hands and arms, praying by some miracle that it was still in her possession. But it was just as she feared…

The wind bag was gone. 

Penelope looked up. A crowd of 6 women had gathered themselves in a circle. 5 of the women Penelope could tell right away. The 6th, though, had hidden herself in the center, away from the line of sight of anyone outside the circle. 

The only thing Penelope could see, in between the wall of 5 women, was the sixth holding a very familiar brown bag. The mystery crewmate used two fingers, her index and thumb, to gingerly take hold of the rainbow string keeping it sealed…

“NO!”

Penelope threw herself to her feet and tried to run toward them. There was still time, she could still make it home if she just kept them from- 

Something yanked Penelope back. Looking down, the captain saw that one of her hands was tied to the ship’s mast. It was right then and there when Penelope realized, with a deep sense of dread, that they had planned this.

Every single woman looked in the captain’s direction once they heard her cry out in agony. This included the circle of women currently in possession of the bag. 

But it was too late. 

“Keep your friends close and your enemies closer!” 

The rainbow tie came loose.

Within the very next second, Pandora’s box had unleashed upon the crew. 

Never really know who you can trust…

Never really know who you can trust…

Clouds, big and wet and stormy grew, spilling instantaneously out of the bag to return to their rightful place in the aegean. The soft gentle winds from before became harsh and heavy. The waves below grew rapid and restless, becoming even more perilous as the rain spilling from those dreary clouds added to the strength of the ocean below. 

Storm…

The combination of high winds and treacherous waves forced the fleet to halt their movement forward. And then, with no warning, the 12 ships began to sail backwards.

That’s right. At such high speeds that the fleet would have appeared as a blur to anyone on the outside, the ships sailed further and further away from home and headed to an unknown destination. It would not have been too unreasonable, at that moment, to assume the ships could compete in a race against the Messenger Gods themselves. And win. 

Full speed ahead…

Aeolus, for the first time since they issued the challenge nine days ago, descended upon the fleet of ships. They wore a smile, an eerie, menacing, foreboding one. 

Despite her difficulty maintaining balance over the uncontrollable swaying ship, Penelope managed to steady herself just enough to make her way over to her ship’s top deck and stare face-to-face at the Wind God.  

“Where's the storm taking us?!”

Aeolus giggled, cruel and childish, as they stared down at the mortal being trying desperately to regain control of the situation. 

“I said to keep the bag closed, but you weren't compliant,” Aeolus blew a kiss at the fleet, the addition of their personal winds forcing the ships to somehow go even faster than before.

“If I had to guess? You're heading to the Land of the Giants…”

Soon, it did not take long for even Aeolus and their winions to no longer be within sight. 

Storm…

At the speed they were going it would have been impossible for any of the women to point out or distinguish any landmarks that would have helped them find their way back. 

Storm…

Immediately, Penelope realized it was the cannibalistic Laestrygonians that Aeolus referred to as the final destination of their strom-fueled ships.

If they ended up arriving at their intended destination, there would be no doubt the lives of her entire crew would be lost.

Penelope needed to stop the ships from getting there! But how… 

Penelope looked around frantically, trying to search for something that could help. 

No islands or land anywhere nearby that could block the ships’ paths, she doubted their anchors were strong enough against a God’s handmade storm, no amount of rope, whether it be the numerous amounts of brown coiled thread stacked against each other in the corner or rainbow string, would do anything against the sto-

Wait, rainbow string?! 

Penelope immediately returned her eyes to the ship's floor. Right there, laying discarded against the ship’s wooden floorboards, was the rainbow string that held the power to keep the bag securely tied in the first place. 

Whoever opened the bag had not realized its importance, evident from how they tossed it aside once it no longer appeared useful. 

Penelope grabbed the string before making a run for the bag, which was still spilling its windy contents into the sky and adding more clouds to the barrage. 

Ctimene, who was trying to steady their ship’s sails, who just so happened to be only a few feet from where the bag had opened , watched as Penelope forced herself to inch closer to it using all her mortal strength. 

Despite the bag’s winds trying to keep her away, Penelope managed to successfully get as close as she needed to. Kneeling down to better reach the bag’s opening, all the while devastating winds threatened to rip her face off her skull and her hair from her scalp, Penelope wrapped the rainbow string around the flaps of the bag and tried her damndest to close it once more. 

However, trying to close the bag alone only ended in failure with each attempt. The captain, knowing she couldn’t do this alone, looked around for something or someone that could help keep the bag steady enough to close. 

No one could have missed the quick sigh of relief she let out when meeting Ctimene’s gaze. 

“Help me close the bag!” Penelope ordered her sister. 

“But ma’am, it's too late.” Ctimene answered instead of acted. 

Penelope, while still trying to close the bag with her own meager strength, glared at her second-in-command in response to her question.

“We can save whatever wind is left to use another day! Come on!”

Ctimene, finally realizing her captain’s intention, wasted no time and sprung herself to action. 

The sisters worked together to quickly close the bag: Ctimene used her immense strength to keep it steady despite its overwhelming power while Penelope wrapped the string tightly around the bag’s opening. Once she was sure it was nice and secure, Penelope pulled on both ends of the string. 

The open flaps of the bag shut in unison with the rainbow string’s pull. 

Just like that, no more were the winds stronger than their sales. The ships halted in place, no longer driven by the forces of nature. The dark, stormy clouds that had infested the skies quickly dissipated. Though not as blue and clear as it was moments ago, as light-gray clouds still littered the sky and continued to spill a light drizzle of rain, it was definitely an improvement compared to before. 

However, there was something still off with the waves below; they weren’t as treacherous as they had been whilst in the middle of the divine storm, but something was still making them uneasy, raging… 

None of the women noticed this yet. 

Every single crew member, both on the main ship or one of the other 11, let out a much needed deep breath. She would either have a hand placed over herself, hovered over the body part of a nearby friend, or was performing a combination of the two. 

Penelope and Ctimene were no exception to this. 

The captain and her second in command had not parted from the other’s side since completing their objective. Penelope had one hand over her knee to maintain balance, the other placed carefully in front of Ctimene’s torso to keep her sister from toppling over while the ship immediately steadied. Ctimene, in turn, had a hand placed over her chest to forcibly relax her breathing, with the other placed firmly on Penelope’s shoulder to keep the other secured after everything that just happened. 

While catching the breath escaping from her lungs, Penelope assessed their surroundings to devise a quick game plan in her head. Things obviously didn’t go as planned, that was for sure, but hope hadn’t died just yet!

The first thing they would have to do is figure out where they were! Though nothing looked particularly familiar in any direction she gazed, it was likely that with a little sailing they would be treading recognizable waters in no time!

Next, Penelope would have to find a way to gather resources that served both as sustenance and maintenance (no doubt the ships took quite the beating after being navigated purely by wind and wave). She would need to be careful, especially considering what happened last time they looked for sustenance, but as long as she remained vigilant and logical it should all be okay! 

Sure the “plan” barely counted as a plan to begin with, not to mention the “simple” tasks were anything but. Still, even if it sounded daunting at first, Penelope knew as long as each of the 528 women worked hard and did her part they would have nothing to worry about. 

As long as nothing else happened, they would be able to set course back home as if nothing happened in the first plac-

“Penelope of Ithaca!” A woman’s voice, deep, angry, and very much powerful, yelled out from the deepest depths of the sea herself. 

Penelope’s breath stilled, her blood running so cold for a moment she thought herself to be a corpse. 

That- that was her name, wasn’t it? 

Her and more than 500 pairs of eyes turned towards the direction of that voice. Penelope saw a pair of glowing blue orbs hidden within a cloud of foggy mist. 

The unnaturally choppy waters were much more noticeable now… 

“Do you know who I am?”

[magicpiano]

AU where Tucker Foley (Danny Phantom) and Richie Foley (Static Shock) are cousins.