#my beloved Spartans

[backpackingspace]

Okay yes odysseus absolutely fumbled first meeting with penelope. He was an absolute goof. Tripping over himself, blushing, loosing games because penelope waved at him, getting caught mid lie ect ect

But have we considered penelope was equally a mess?

[poisonheadcrabsalesman]

"Wow, Touchstone by the illustrious @bloodgulchblog makes me want to play Spartan Ops! I wonder if anyone else likes that niche game mode?"

[c4tto626]

halo infinite is a dress-up game. to me

[alkibiadessuperfan]

I got a copy of the official novel for ac odyssey now! probably expect some screaming, comments, ranting and live reactions lmao. I only read 20 pages and was screaming silently.

[the-casbah-way]

wish a hot person would let me infodump on them about spartan constitution :/

[alethiometry]

the "i'm going to replay this game in order to refresh my memory on characterization and story beats before i write more fic for it" to "this game is a huge fucking mess and at this point if i try to write any fic it's going to end up an attempt to rewrite the entire story" pipeline 🤡

[fionnaskyborn]

oh yeah i've figured out what the issue is i keep going to the tags looking for. art of my au. or at least something with similar vibes. looking for space opera things. in the goofy military game house. whose enjoyers discuss either the drama of it all (of the not in the slightest adherent to the actual source material kind) or whichever of the same ten unfunny memes are currently in rotation. sir you're at the wrong store

[engafordoma]

Manchester Pride: the one weekend of the year when it’s acceptable to start sinking pints at 10am 🏳️‍🌈

[ladyinthebluebox]

can't wait to be an annoyance to Stentor all over again. he's Kassandra's new brother and she'll make it entirely his problem 🤣

[black-raine]

Fuck, where has this been all my life.

taocan_shisi_hao on danbooru

[quitealotofsodapop]

So how does courtnapping work??

"Courtnapping"; a mix of "courting" + "kidnap", is basically the demonic version of a proposal.

When demons were still scattered clans/prides across the mortal realm, it was very difficult for clans to interact without a lot of violence involved. Either because of competition for food, or because someone mistoke a glamoured demon for a mortal animal and starting biting.

What's a prospective lover to do if their beloved's family won't let them near without a fight? Easy; steal their lover away so that they can court them (among other things) in private.

As society grew; "courtnapping" became part of the demonic consciousness as a legitimate dating strategy. It was a loud way of announcing your intentions to the intended's family that you wanted them as a mate, whilst also showing off some muscle/magic.

However, demons are not animals. And if the kidnapped party rejects their captor's affections, it is considered polite to let them go. Only *uncouth* demons dare to lock their beloved away without contact with their family. And only truly vile ones (like Kui Mulang or Sai Tai Sui) keep them as forced spouses.

It's downright expected that a demon whisks away their future spouse - after all, who doesn't want to be swept off their feet?

Among wealthier Underworld clans who've adopted celestial/mortal practices, courtnapping isn't as common. Imperial China-style arranged marriages were the norm for the longest time up until a certain Bull Prince fell in love with an Iron Fan warrior, changing the desire among noble demons towards love matches. Courtnapping is considered a legitimate way of declaring "I object!" to an arranged marriage by giving the bride/groom a second option and a moment to rethink the arrangement.

Some wedding parties even hold a mock courtnappings between the new couple so that they can run off from the festivities and enjoy their honeymoon. Think how Spartan weddings involved the groom "kidnapping" the bride from their own ceremony.

Also because of some hilarious idea sharing with @soniclozdplove, we agree; People were kidnapped by demons so frequently in the Imperial era, not because of demon's eating them - but because of *marriage fraud*.

Think of it like this:

China is under strict Confucian and filial piety ideals. If your parent wants you to marry a specific person, you have pretty much no say in the matter.

Unless.

You just so happen to be kidnapped by a demon who wants to keep you as their legally binding spouse.

Human: "Oh no~ I'm captured by an hunky demon who wants to marry me! Guess I'm going to have to stay here and miss out on my arranged marriage." ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ Demon: "And we can no-fault divorce at any time!" Human's Family: "We'll just take them back!" Lawyer: "Actually you can't. It's a legally binding marriage. Unless the captive expresses their rejection or wants to leave; it's legitimate." Human's Family: "Crap. Well, we'll just hire a mercenary or warrior to reverse-kidnap them back!" (*Later...*) Mercenary: "Avast foul demon! I have been sent to reclaim your stolen bride/groom!" Demon, turns to "captive": "Yay or nay, hun?" Human, looks at mercenary: "Ew. Nay. He's older than my dad." Demon, turning on dramatics: "LEAVE THIS PLACE YOU SOLIDER OF FORTUNE! ONLY ONES WITH PURE HEARTS SHALL TAKE THEM BACK!"

Heres a PortSherry comic I feel is very appropriate.

In more serious scenarios, a courtnapping can be faked to safety remove a person in an abusive home. Abusers can't control you if you're behind a giant lumbering demon with a prenup.

DBK got into this in the Tang-era when he and Princess Jade Face were "married". He was just helping her claim her inheritance, since her dad's will would only pay out if she was married (the Underworld Earth-Fox Clan are the "mimicking human/celestial"-trends types). PIF knew of this arrangement, but was still jealous af and nearly blew the whole of Thunder Mountain in her rage (it was how they learned she was pregnant with Red Son).

Zhu Bajie is an odd duck in this case; since he married Gao Cuilan the normal human way, but his instincts told him to steal her away when her family suddenly became hostile towards him. Cuilan didn't really object because she truly loved him, but was upset that contact between her and her family was cut. Even after the couple are legally divorced; Bajie still considers Cuilan his wife - because in a demonic sense, she's still his willing mate. Lots of stories written about the Pilgrims post-Journey have Bajie go back to her so that they can (in human sense) remarry.

Courtnapping still occurs in the modern day; just with a lot of pre-arranged consent involved. Racing, mock-battles, and the spat with between the lovers' parents - demons do love the thrill of the chase after all. But unplanned kidnappings of desired spouses do still happen.

In Red Son and MK's case; they've accidentally been courting each other for a long time. Mostly because they're dorks who don't realise what their rivalry looks like from the outside - especially during the Season 1 era.

Red Son, showing off his plans: "Here is my current brilliant idea for reclaiming our power! Step 1; We engage Noodle Boy and his friends in battle. Step 2: While you two are occupying Dragon Girl and his fathers, I capture Noodle Boy. Step 3: I keep him hidden in my old base in Fire Wind Cave. Step 4: I have full access to the Staff and all of Noodle Boy's magical abilities! It's foolproof!" DBK & PIF: (*share knowing smiles*) PIF: "Dear, I'm glad that you've finally developed an interest in romantic matters - but our current goals do not align with planning a marriage just yet." Red Son, confused: "Huh?" DBK: "And while it would be advantageous if you married Sun Wukong's heir, I feel that tensions between our families are too high to consider even a superficial union." PIF: "It's really sweet that you considered it though." Red Son: (*turns back to planning board, realises that his plan to capture MK resembles a traditional courtnapping*) Red Son, nearly magenta from embarrassment as he tears up the plan: "Err... never mind then."

In season 3 when Red Son saved Mei, Sandy, and MK from the dessert; DBK & PIF weren't mad that they had enemies at the dinner table - but because at a glance it looked like Red Son had stolen himself a spouse without warning them! And he brought some of his spouses family members to hammer out the details!

If the gang hadn't immediately brought up the Samadhi Fire; DBK's next sentence would have been asking them; "What are your intentions with my child? Do we need to provide a dowry? Is there plans for grandchildren?"

Red Son might have died on the spot. XD

[thewritetofreespeech]

Astarion x Reader

words: 1.5K

rating: T

pairing: Ascended!Astarion x Tav

summary: banking off the Jealous!Tav x Astarion ask, I made one for Ascended verse as well.

-------------------------------------------------------------

Astarion let out a deep sigh as he walked through the long corridors of his palace towards his chambers. Who knew being a Vampire Lord would be so taxing?

He thought it would be all blood, japes, and all-consuming-power when he ascended, but noooo. Apparently, all that power did not come with an instantaneous dark underground to control and city at his feet. He had to put in effort. Time. A lot of both, which somedays Astarion thought was just not worth it. But his ambitions would not let him rest on his laurels. Even if he did need a rest for the evening.

The doors let out a heavy echo as they close behind him, and Astarion sighed once more as he undid his overcoat. His attention then turned towards the bed as he saw the bedding move. “Darling?” He questioned curiously but knew it couldn’t be.

Tav was out with Shadowheart. Catching up with their dear friend while she was in the city, for reasons that were probably told to Astarion but he couldn’t be bother to remember since he wasn’t going. For once he let them go unaccompanied but was now hopeful that they came back early over missing him terribly.

“Master?” Astarion’s face paled (metaphorically, as it could not get any paler than it already was) as the sheets pulled back an a young, blonde, naked woman appeared from the covers. “I thought you’d never come back tonight.”

“What are you doing here Azura?” He hissed at his latest spawn. A silly girl who begged him for the gift, and Astarion gave it to her for no other reason than he felt his beloved needed a new chambermaid. “You dare enter my chambers, uninvited, and help yourself to my bed. Have you lost your absolute mind?!”

Astarion wasn’t exactly kind to his spawn, but he wasn’t nearly as cruel as Cazador. Which he knew was a very low bar. He gave them a fine amount of freedom to move about the castle. Updated the dorms so they weren’t as spartan as what he had been forced to endure. Almost never tortured them unless they absolutely needed to be punished. And this is how he was repaid?!

“Yes. I have lost my mind. Lost it for you, my master.” He resisted the urge to roll his eyes. Oh Gods, the idiot was in love. He recognized that soft stare and devoted posture. If her, quite literally, naked display wasn’t enough of a clue he could nearly smell the pheromones off her. “I wanted to surprise you. I wanted to please you.”

“You can please me by getting out.” He pointed to the door although he didn’t compel her. He wasn’t sure why. Perhaps he wanted to again be kind and give her the choice. Or just a sick morbid curiosity on how this would play out.

“Leave? You really don’t want me here?” She seemed surprised. Given her beauty this may have been the first time she was rejected, Astarion assumed. It always surprised him when his quarry didn’t take the bait. Perhaps this was a similar feeling for her. “You really don’t want me to stay?”

Azura pulled back the sheets to reveal that she wasn’t truly naked. Just in a thin nightgown that was so transparent it was nearly invisible. Her skin smooth. Her legs long. Her cunt neatly shaved and breast taunt & perky. She’ll lead men to this castle in droves, he thought. Unfortunately, her charms were immune to him.

“Yes. Get out. I won’t repeat myself again.”

The girl jumped off the bed and came closer. Astarion hoped it was for the door, but no such luck. His spawn leaned into him, delicate and wanting. Staring up into his eyes like a lover while he stared back at her with a stern look. “Shouldn’t a master be able to taste what’s his when he likes. Don’t you miss my blood from the first time? Tasting it on your lips?”

He wants to tell her no. That he hasn’t thought about it since that first time. Honestly, he hadn’t thought of her since that first time. But mentions of blood, and the reminder of the power he felt when he took her life and made it his own, does get his own blood to hum.

“You can have it again, if you’d like. Take all of me. A lord, a king, can take anything he wishes. I can be your obedient consort as well. Be one of your most beloved spawn.” As she spoke her body and lips moved closer to him.

“What’s going on here?”

The girl jumped back, quickly. Like she had been licked by fire. Astarion stood still. He hadn’t done anything wrong, technically, so he had no reason to be afraid. Although that cool look in Tav’s eyes was making him seriously question that decision. “I said: what’s going on here?”

“I was….I-I was just….I…”

“You were trying to take my place, eh?” Astarion chuckled at his beloved’s blunt response. Direct and to the point as always.

“Darling, as if she could.” He moved over to Tav. Separating himself completely from his spawn to sooth his consort. “This is just some misplaced adoration of a spawn and their master. Granted we’ve gone a little far…”

“It’s not misplaced! I love you!” There was a growl in Tav’s throat and Astarion huffed at the girl’s childish pleas. He really had been trying to help her here. “I would never leave you alone like they would! I would be loyal to you always! I can be twice the consort they are if you just give me a ch—"

She doesn’t get to finish asking for her chance that would never come. As her head was hanging limp to the side, nearly off her shoulders. Blood gushing from the gaping hole in her throat. Spraying across the room and down her thin negligee. Once translucent material now opaque as it was drenched in crimson. “Well…that was something.”

“It’s not funny Astarion!” Tav yelled at him. Their eyes were wild and angry as they whipped around to glare at him. A powerful shiver running up his spine in the face of that heat.

“Of course it’s funny. All this for something so trivial. As if this scrap of nothing could have replace you. My beloved, perfect consort.” Astarion came close and lifted their bloody hand to kiss it gently. “No one could, would, or ever will replace you, my love. My wicked heart is yours, for all eternity.”

“Why didn’t you tell her that then?”

He shrugged. “I didn’t think it needed to be said.” His poor dead spawn had to know she was taking a long shot when she came here. And if she didn’t then she was too dumb for Astarion to have around anyway. Still, he supposed Tav was right. He could have made more of an effort to stop her. “Still, it is rather cute that you can still get jealous over my affection. It makes me so hot. Watching you fight over me.”

He heard Tav sigh when he kissed by their ear and then jaw. Hearing them mutter, “not much of a fight” which made his cock harden in his breeches.

“Perhaps I should flirt with women and men more often.”

Astarion felt a hard jerk of his own pristine, sharp jaw away from Tav. Their nails digging into the soft skin of his cheek as they stared at them with a blazing hatred he hadn’t seen since the Elder Brain or that disgusting necromancer in the crypt. “Don’t.” A single word. Sharp. Direct.

He doesn’t like to be told ‘no’ often these days. He’s killed men for less presses against his authority. But that sharp look, one that promised his beloved would leave a trail of bodies like rose petals at his feet if he even pretended to be interested in them, made his blood boil with desire. It’s a beat in his heart that echoes his own. The agonies he would face on men who even stared at his beloved too long. Their glances were only for him. Their body was only his. Their conversations, their passions, their life, their loyalty, all of it was his. He supposed the least he could do was not pretend to be fickle with it.

“Very well, my love. I won’t. My sweet words will, as always, be for you alone. Plus, we can’t have your jealousy wreaking havoc all over the castle & city. Just think of the stains.”

He kissed Tav, to reassure them that his love was for them and them alone, picking them up and carrying them to the bed to remind them properly. As he carried them to their bed, he stepped over poor dead, double dead, Azura’s body. Already forgotten. Already not even a memory. Just a stain in the carpet that would need to be sorted out in the morning.

[ninibeingdelulu]

I’m sorry

synopsis: he forgot your birthday, so he apologizes in his own way

a/n: i wish re2 leon was real :((

The apartment you share with Leon is utterly unrecognizable when you finally drag yourself through the doorway well past sundown.

What typically greets you is a spartan, almost militaristic level of bare minimalism thanks to your boyfriend's by-the-book personality and rigorous hours with the RPD.

But this evening? The entire open-concept living space has been transformed into what can only be described as a veritable birthday wonderland - complete with vibrant streamers zig-zagging across every available surface and those ridiculously oversized metallic balloons bobbing precariously from every corner.

You halt mid-stride, mouth literally agape as you drink in the burst of kaleidoscope colors and thoughtful homespun decor adorning the length of the kitchen countertops as well.

A deliciously decadent layered cake topped with your favorite indulgent frosting blend...an assortment of neatly wrapped packages in that signature sky-blue wrapping paper you always tease Leon for using at every gift-giving occasion...even a chilled bottle of your go-to celebratory bubbly chilling beside a fresh bouquet of your most beloved flora.

The sheer tenderness of this entire scene hits you like a sucker-punch straight to the solar plexus - eyes stinging with unshed tears even before finally trailing towards the center of the room.

There slouched on the sofa with elbows braced on splayed knees and face cradled in his upturned palms sits Leon himself in a pose of utter guilt-ridden dejection.

"Leon..." You haven't even stepped fully inside yet before his name slips past your lips - instantly shattering whatever uncomfortable reverie he'd been absorbed in brooding towards the floor.

Those endlessly soulful icicle-blue irises you've always adored finally lift to meet yours with the weight of a thousand apologies shining within their stormy depths.

"Hey, doll..."

God, he does sound like a lost puppy while using that feather-soft endearment you normally melt over.

"Look, I...I know I massively forgot your birthday yesterday and I—"

"Leon, you really didn't have to—"

"No, no. Please...just...lemme get this out while I'm on a roll here?"

He interjects quickly, palms lifting in a placating gesture before the briefest quirk of boyish insecurity tugs at the corner of his sensuous mouth.

"I'm not always the best at expressing myself the way I should, but that never means the important stuff gets overlooked or taken for granted...not with you."

The sincerity reverberating through every syllable sends your pulse into an erratic staccato against the hollow of your throat as Leon rises languidly to his full towering height and begins stalking towards where you linger.

There's an undeniably intent yet hopelessly tender hunger now darkening his eyes into bottomless pools of stormy silver. Paradoxically pinning you in place while simultaneously setting your insides ablaze...

"You're the most important person in my entire world, y/n...the reason I wake up fighting each morning and the thought I cling to whenever everything feels hopeless."

Leon murmurs - now near enough you can taste the subtle citrus zing of his aftershave mingling with the adrenaline roaring in your ears.

"Nothing and no one will ever make me lose sight of how goddamn priceless you are to me again...not when you're the sole force keeping this old cop's battered heart from completely shattering apart."

And with his final confession, those rough palms you've spent countless blissful hours mapping finally settle upon your waist while he leans in and just barely brushes the plush seal of his lips over yours in a tantalizing preview of what's to come once you've both recovered from this initial swell of unbridled emotion.

"So how's about we celebrate your birthday properly this time around, sweetheart?"

You can actually feel the rumbling timbre vibrating from Leon's chest straight to your molten core as he seals his vow with a bruising, breathtaking kiss destined to leave you utterly drunk and delirious for hours to come...

[voidedbattery]

JORGE AND NOBLE SIX!!??

halo on my mind

[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.

[screamce]

I'm finally free from artfight AHHH that was so fun I think I doubled my attacks from last year. I got so many I have to break it up into a couple parts gggg but anyway, here's some of the cool stuff i made for some cool people!

as per usual, links n stuff under the cut

Cabbage for @cabbagefaerie

Skye for @aj-is-typing-18

Juno for @jymic

Donnie & Mikey for @the-seraph-thilio

VERSE N CREW RAAHH for @energons

BellaBella for @wolf-tail

ROADRAGE RGAGRA for @kevinexe06

Anokato for @/mpartist1894 on artfight

Delirium + my oc for @gacha-pon

Aria + my oc for @/Ravenz_Featherz on artfight

SHOCKLINE RAAAAHH for @maxicaiman

Popfly, Stageflow, Softserve, & Breakneck for @cheesarbles, @merus-mystery, @/SOUNDBBABE on artfight, + @/redbeanp13 on artfight

Gossamer for @/ACatNamedKK on artfight

Spartan Striker >:] for @kevinexe06

SilverStreak for @/lazy_pan_artist on artfight [it said they had a tumblr but the link is dead </3]

BOUNCEWILD MY BELOVED <3 for @blurrynswindle

Slugs & Snails for @/Minced_Meat on artfight

Iphi for @/Seabluewolf on artfight

Turbo Drive :'( for @kittycookiesuwu

Mourningstar for @penebui

Paradox :'] for @linek0

Pawse for @/BassetBites on artfight

Sunny for @kupahdraws

Nova! for @/Lapitide on artfight

Sophie for @/Rosarolli on artfight

Azalion for @justabeewithapen

Soda for @/polarisbluecaribou on artfight

SkyBlade for @kittycookiesuwu

Shambles for @cherryslu-t