#zippy answers

[zippityzap]

Hmmmm.....we know Sonic is scared of water, do Manic or Sonia have any sort of fear, may or may not be rational?

(for a drawing, maybe an aftermath of Sonia and Manic trying to get Sonic in the water X'D)

Had a bit of a think about it; I don’t think either of them have phobias on-par with Sonic’s aquaphobia but there are things they are adverse to.

Sonia (especially a show accurate Sonia rather than Remixed universe Sonia) would HATE getting dirt on her. Now she does build up a tolerance to it over time but I could definitely see her insisting on showering at least twice a day even when on a road trip in the van. If she gets covered in dirt I think her brain kinda freezes and she kinds it difficult to concentrate on anything else. Now that I’m typing that out it sounds kinda like a neurodivergent sensory aversion response.

Manic would find sleeping in a room all on his own off-putting after growing up with Farrel’s gang. He doesn’t need to share a bed with anyone but to him having someone else present in the room feels more secure. I think he’d also grow adverse to flying insects (tiny ones, not mobians!) after the events of the ‘Bug!’ episode

[yellow-for-speed]

PUNY AUTOBOT

YOUVE STOLEN MY HIGH GRADE. THAT I STOLE FROM YOU FIRST!? I WILL BE TURNING YOU INTO A DECROTIVE PEICE OF WALL ART!!

(Also here's a miku :>)

*Bumblebee laughs nervously, transforming and starting to speed away.*

"GOOD LUCK CATCHING ME, BLITZBRAIN!! I'M THE FASTEST THING ON FOUR WHEELS!!!!"

[vexic929]

shippy or not, any thoughts or hcs on EoBarry? i hope this ask is okay, i'm curious hihi

oh this ask is absolutely okay I looooooove to think about EoBarry!!

Eobard rapidly oscillates between loving Barry and hating him and he genuinely never knows himself how he'll feel about Barry in the moment when they see each other again

on a related note, Eobard does his best plotting against Barry when he feels enamored with him - the hatred blinds him too much to plan well

the easiest way to get Eobard to completely shut down and stop for any length of time would be for Barry to return his affections, he wouldn't know what to do at that point

Eobard all but had a shrine to Barry as a child and teenager, he got rid of most of it after becoming disillusioned (he regrets getting rid of any of it)

Eobard and Barry did have a brief fling in the future before Eobard went completely off the rails and started screwing with the timeline - Eobard has never been able to recreate that future since

Eobard absolutely planned to seduce Barry as Harrison Wells knowing how much Barry admired him

Eobard has been multiple one-night-stands in multiple timelines for Barry without Barry realizing it

[paintedscales]

What are some of your OC's comfort foods?

I wanted to answer an ask before I went to bed, and because there's a lot of stuff in my inbox just sitting, waiting so patiently for me to get to them! Thank you, @zippy-elly, for the ask! I very much appreciate it!

; w ; ♥♥

Warm and Cozy OC Asks

For certain, Nomin really likes suutei tsai, or Steppe salty tea. It's just a comfort drink from her homeland, something that she can take a sip of and be reminded of the Steppe -- more the beauty of it and the things she appreciates about it. It's certainly an acquired taste for those unaccustomed, but she also enjoys sharing it with people she's close with -- people she trusts that she also believes will appreciate the taste of her homeland like she does.

Outside of that, plums. Specifically dawn plums, but plums were one of the first fruit that she had when she got adopted into the Sagahl, specifically with her adoptive brother and sister. So having plums reminds her of them. She has a lot of appreciation for them as an adult -- guilt as well -- but a lot of appreciation nonetheless.

Plums are the taste of home. Not just because they're a fruit that grew somewhere within her homeland. But because they're some of the first bits of vegetation she learned about, the first fruits she associates with people who took her in, and it just makes her feel warm and a familial sense of love because of those people.

[thehallstara]

🌤️🌤️ :D

:D ty cedar!

🌤️Share your favorite piece of dialogue from your WIP.

ZIPPY: I think I have to see this through.  BRIGHT: You really don’t. ZIPPY: But I do! I didn’t pick up that bat just to give up. BRIGHT: It’s not giving up, Zippy. It’s self-preservation. ZIPPY: Yeah, well. We’re not exactly good at that, you and me.

[howetragic]

Thank you so much. I really feel like I always take for granted my ability to mind my own business, and I won’t do that after this. / from ziphrane

Nathaniel harrumphs, crossing his arms over his chest as he narrows his eyes at her. 

     “I don’t think it’s too much to ask,” he says tensely. “I simply wish to know what your relationship with the assassin is. If you insist on having a Crow in the Keep, shouldn’t you at least disclose what your intentions with him are?”

[raiiryuu]

✔

Do I know your muse(s):  yes | no | a little | tell me about your muse

[ELFMANNN I am so excited to see him on here, hello!]

Setting: our verse | my verse | your verse | modern | alternate universe | other

Pre-established relationships? yes | no | depends on the relationship

Possible relationships: friends | classmate | co-worker | roommate | family, real or adopted | dating or blind date | married | friends with benefits | unrequited love | lending a hand | teacher - student | rivals | allies | partner-in-crime | enemies | protecter - guarded | business partners | spy - infiltrated | manipulator - manipulated | star-crossed | first meeting | other 

I’m in the mood for: fluff | angst | horror | romance | humor | crime | hurt / comfort | action | supernatural | slice of life | crack | dark threads | light threads | any genre | multi-para | shorter para | one-line | any length | plotted threads | unplotted threads | other

Feel free to: message me ooc | message me ic | tell me your ideas | write a starter | answer one of my opens | send a meme | reblog this with your preferences - let’s find common interests!

[lovebugism]

Omg bug we need a part two of “mean” Eddie and reader going on their little date 🤭 if you are up for writing it ofc 😌

pt. 2 of this fic

You didn’t show.

Maybe you just got lost. Eddie figures he shouldn’t have expected someone like you to know where The Hideout was. Or maybe you lost track of time. — but he’d told you the doors opened at seven o’clock sharp, and you’d repeated it back to him. He knows you did because you’d said it in that voice you use when you get all shy, as soft and as low as your meek gaze when you peered at him through your lashes.

But you weren’t just late. You weren’t fashionably late, either. You just never showed up.

Eddie wishes he didn’t care as much as he did.

He told himself he didn’t when you weren’t there at seven, but he looked for you in the meager crowd of twenty when eight o’clock rolled around anyway. 

He’d wanted to see you in the front row. He dreamt of putting on the best show The Hideout’s ever seen right before dedicating some cheesy love ballad to you. 

“This is for a really special someone in the crowd tonight,” he would’ve said into the microphone that smelled like beer. “You know who you are. Don’t let this go to your head, either, alright?” 

He even made the band practice Hysteria by Def Leppard so he could play it for you that night — so the lyrics could tell you everything he couldn’t — but you weren’t there to hear them. 

They ended up playing Love Bites instead.

He spends another two hours moonlighting as a rockstar.

Still in his ripped jeans and eyeliner, he slings a towel over his shoulder and ties an apron around his waist — a busboy all over again. He always forgets how sleazy The Hideout is until he’s got to clean it up. 

He mops sticky floors and wipes down grimy tables and tries to ignore the stinging in his chest every time he remembers that you were supposed to keep him company through it all.

A knock sounds at the front door at eleven o’clock. 

It’s Tuesday night — the place is empty now. Eddie’s been around long enough to know when drunks are out looking for a fix.

“We’re closed!” he shouts, more focused on scrapping off the syrupy ringed stain on the table than the relentless inebriate outside.

“C’mon, Eddie, it’s cold!” a familiar voice pleads, muffled through the door. “You’re not mad enough to let me freeze to death out here, are you?”

Eddie nearly breaks his neck with how quickly he turns to look over his shoulder. 

You stand behind the foggy glass, mostly blurry but still beautiful. The bouquet of purple and red tulips is nearly as pretty as the smile your pair them with. Your floral skirt swishes around your ankles as the wind blows. Eddie winches when he sees you shiver.

He rushes to the door, scrambling with the keyring clipped to his belt loop. His sweaty hands fumble with the chain. It takes him three tries to get it in the lock. 

“Shit. Sorry,” he stammers. “I didn’t think it was you.”

“I figured. It’s okay.” 

You walk through the door he holds open for you, the spring night breeze following close behind. Eddie shuts and locks the door again.

You spin on your heel to face him and hold the flowers out between you. “These are for you,” you tell him — soft and low and timid.

Eddie grins.

“These are very metal, sweetheart,” he teases. The plastic wrapping crinkles as he takes them by the stem.

“I felt bad for being so late,” you grimace. “Didn’t want to show up empty-handed.”

“What flower shop is even open this time of night?”

“Zippy’s,” you answer curtly, gaze ducking down to your shoes a moment later.

“You went to a gas station all the way across town to get me flowers?”

You nod.

“No wonder you were late,” he scoffs. 

He saunters past you, then spins so he’s walking backward and facing you. His wild hair sways around his face. He clutches the bouquet to his chest. “Here I thought you off seeing some other schmuck.”

You roll your eyes, knowing no other schmuck has ever given you the time of day like Eddie has.

“I was late because of work,” you correct. Before you know it, you’re rambling. “I wasn’t on schedule for closing, but my asshole manager wouldn’t let me clock out. And I couldn’t call you because I don’t have your number, and I couldn’t find The Hideout in the yellow pages because it’s so old and—”

“Hey. It’s okay,” Eddie assures, practically cooing. It’s the softest he’s ever been with you, and he looks at you just the same — chocolate eyes melting as they twinkle at you. You’re left grieving his gaze when he turns to set the flowers on the counter. 

“You’re here now. That’s all that matters.” 

Through burning cheeks, you tease. “I thought we agreed you weren’t gonna get soft on me.”

“Oh? You thought that meant I cared that you came?” he scoffs, obviously joking. 

He squints down at you when you appear at his side — turns and presses his hip into the counter, and props his elbow along the top of it. “I’m just happy I got you outta the house. You’re like a damn hermit, you never do anything fun.”

Your face scrunches in discontent. “I have fun!” you correct.

“I’ll believe it when I see it,” Eddie retorts, nudging your shoulder as he walks past you again — this time heading toward the kitchen. “Sit down. I’ll make you something to eat.”

You’re grateful when he walks to the back without looking over his shoulder at you, lest he become a witness to the beam on your lips that’s far too bright to hide.

Eddie Munson is totally soft on you. 

It’s a good thing, too. Because you’re all but melting for him now.

You sit at the bar with a sweaty beer in your hand. “It’s obviously cheap, but it goes down sweet enough,” Eddie warned when he’d handed it to you. You sip from it, leaning back in your chair with your feet thrown on the one beside you — totally unable to take your eyes off the boy.

You watch through the partition behind the counter as Eddie makes a haphazard effort of basketing leftover chicken tenders and fries. He sets them beneath an orange lamp to warm again.

“A rockstar, busboy, and chef, huh?” you lilt, hiding your smile behind the beer you bring to your lips. “What else can you do?”

“When there’s a pretty girl in front of me?” he retorts as he swipes the crumbs from his palms. He looks at you with a smug grin and shrugs. “Just about anything, I’d guess.”

You roll your eyes. “Don’t do that.”

“Do what?”

“Flirt with me. It’s gross. We don’t do that.”

Eddie laughs to himself, honey eyes squinting. “I’ve been flirting with you for about a year and a half now, sweetheart, but… Thanks for finally noticing.”

He carries the ruby red baskets in both hands when he comes out to sit next to you. You slide your legs off the stool for him — an invitation to be close to you without either of you having to ask.

“Am I gonna get food poisoning from this?” you joke, holding the greasy chicken strip between your fingers.

“The cook made them today,” he scoffs, already tossing a fry into his mouth. He talks as he chews. “Besides, we’d be getting sick together. What’s more romantic than that?”

God, you even think he’s cute when he talks with his mouth full. You’re so far gone for him, it’s not even funny.

Eddie smiles when you take a bite. Your eyes flutter shut on their own accord, your empty stomach thanking you. 

“Good, huh?”

“Amazing,” you correct.

“Gross bars make the best food, I swear.”

You laugh softly together. Def Leppard croons from the speakers overhead. You wonder if Eddie knew this was your favorite band or if your favorite song is only playing by chance. You’re warmed either way.

“How was, uh… How was the show?” you ask him, as curious as you are desperate to fill the silence.

Eddie wipes his palms on his jeans and nods. “It was okay. Same as usual — the crowd was drunk enough to enjoy anything we did.”

“I’m sure it was great,” you retort at his self-deprecating tone, picking shyly at the fries rather than meeting his gaze. “I’m sorry I missed it.”

He figures he doesn’t need to tell you about his bleeding heart that was close to breaking a couple of hours ago. You put a bandage over it the second you showed up at The Hideout — with flowers, no less. He’s just glad that you came at all. He meant it when he said that none of the rest matters.

“Don’t worry about it,” Eddie shrugs through the food in his cheek. “There’s always next time.”

You grin and knock the leg of his chair with your foot. “Already asking me out on a second date, huh?”

“If that’s what you wanna call it,” he jokes through glowing cheeks. He tilts his head towards his shoulder. “But I’m not paying for your ticket next time, princess.”

Your smile widens. You prop your cheek on your knuckles, unabashedly gazing over at him. “That’s okay. I’ll be in the front row either way.”

“Promise?” Eddie’s lilt edges on teasing and sincerity. He momentarily abandons his own food as he mirrors your positioning, not realizing he’s leaning closer to you until he’s already doing it.

“Promise,” you nod with a smile so bright he thinks it could rival the sun.

He continues to shorten the distance between you — coming closer closer closer. You watch him, amused, and with your bottom lip trapped between your teeth.

You want him to kiss you. No, fuck that, you need him to kiss you. But more than anything, you need him to do it first — a cheeky little something to over his head when you’re kissing him later.

And you don’t mean to laugh, but the thought makes a giggle spill from your lips before you can stop it.

The bubbly sound knocks Eddie from his stupor. 

The tip of his nose just barely brushes your own. His glazed-over eyes fly open. He remains still, his breath fanning over your cupid’s bow, as he blinks owlishly at you. The pretty pink mouth he was about to kiss you with falls softly agape. 

His head jerks backward a second later, almost in disgust. 

“Shit. Sorry,” he curses. His body shifts away from yours completely as he turns his attention to his half-eaten basket of fries. “That was— That wasn’t cool of me.”

Still smiling, you reach a hand out for his leather-clad forearm. You caress him soothingly there in reassurance. “No. It’s okay—”

“No, that was really fucking weird,” he says, forcing out a laugh.

“Right?” you scoff. “Why would Eddie Munson, the chef-busboy-rockstar, wanna kiss a girl like me?”

He exhales sharply through his nose, tilting his wild head to his shoulder to look at you. 

He finds you with a gleam in your eye, one that’s not usually there because, most times, he’s too busy making fun of you.  A smile hints at the corners of your mouth, barely there and beautiful. It’s a bit smug — twinkling with the satisfaction of finally having the upper hand.

Eddie figures it might pay off to be soft with you sometimes. He never wants you to stop looking at him like this.

“You know that’s not what I meant,” he confesses quietly.

Your smile widens. “I know.”

“I’m sorry,” he repeats again, eyes flitting away from yours.

“Don’t be,” you promise. Your nose scrunches softly. “…Wanna give it another go?”

His gaze snaps back up to yours. He has to fight the urge to tease you, lest he ruin the moment he’s been thinking about for months. He’ll be damned if he lets the opportunity slip away from him now.

“Sure you’re not gonna laugh at me this time?” he lilts, looking at you from halfway beneath his lashes.

“I’m not gonna laugh at you,” you promise, though a grin’s already threatening to pull at your mouth.

“Promise?”

“Well, I can show you better than I can tell you.”

You let Eddie lean in first. He exhales a heavy breath from his nose that fans against your skin when your lips collide. The rosy plush of them lock with yours like they were made to do it. His palms rise to your jaw, keeping you tucked neatly against him when the moment threatens to pull you away. 

Your hands migrate to the lapel of his leather jacket. You tug him further to you — a promise that you’re not going anywhere.

You don’t laugh into his kiss this time.

You smile.

[bengiyo]

Caged Again Started Strong

Watched the first two episodes of this and I'm already having a good time:

This show breezed through a ton of its worldbuilding quickly to establish some baseline motivations from a charming cast.

It gave answers to some supernatural questions quickly so that we can follow some of the rules of what's going on.

Jaonine is actually so funny as Jod, and them trying to make him seem less beautiful is sending me.

Nokia's character politely leaving the surprisingly-inclusive secret porn club was a wild moment.

I'm obsessed with the ghost in the shrine and her meddling.

Junior not fitting in with penguins, and being so different that he doesn't fit in with humans, works so well. He doesn't even recognize that he's odd.

The giant NO on penguins in the North Pole had me cracking up.

Sun's fantasies are also a real treat.

I really loved how zippy this felt right out of the gate. They moved through a great deal of setup and got me emotionally invested in every character. I'm excited to see more.

[zippityzap]

Can you draw sonia in a outfit that you wear

How about two outfits?

Left is what I wore today to meet up with my bf for a coffee date, while on the right I assembled different clothes I own to make an outfit I thought would suit Sonia

[zippyskyfalls]

OKAY, I'M DOING A QNA ABOUT 4 OF MY AU'S

Striken!Athena AU - an AU where Athena loses her memories and is adopted by Penelope after the events of God games. Epic RP fans already know this AU

Warrior of the Heart AU - Penelope is Odysseus, Aphrodite Areia is Athena, Ctimene is Eurylochus, Helen is Polites, and Hera is Zeus.

God of War AU - Odysseus replaces Athena after the events of God Games, also Athena is now banished and Mortal.

Jorge of Ithaca AU - Jorge is the Reincarnation of Odysseus and just found out Greek Mythology is real.

I'll answer these in 2 ways.

Answer as myself (Zippy) for more detailed answers. OR I'll answer in character.

Lethia/Striken!Athena

WOTH Penelope

God of War Ody

Jorge of Ithaca

Have fun with the Q&A!

(You can either ask inside the ask box or just reblog/comment the question)

[girlfriendsofthegalaxy]

tuesday again 9/24/2024

you might be wondering “is my dear friend tumblr user girlfriendsofthegalaxy still unemployed?” the answer is yes. take this cat off my hands please i don’t think he’s causing the unemployment but he certainly isn’t helping

listening

via Wendy @dying-suffering-french-stalkers, Huoy Meas' ប្រគល់ក្ដីស្នេហ៍មកខ្ញុំវិញ. figuring out what this incredibly zippy Cambodian rock song is named and what it's about was really difficult bc spotify is a bane upon this earth and won't let you fucking copy-paste and OCR was not working on the Khmer script. i ended up listening to the first couple seconds of each of her songs on apple music, and finally figured out this roughly translates to Give Me Back My Love and is about begging a fuckboy for closure.

via the spotify discover weekly, Night Club's Pretty Girls Do Ugly Things. all Night Club's songs sound the same so if you like one, great news! i had this song on for a full gregorian hour bc, i am only a tiny bit ashamed to say, i was storyboarding a The Man With No Name fancam to this. i think it would go pretty hard.

Smoke you like a cigarette Choke you like a lariat Fatalistic tourniquet Do you want more?

-

reading

thank you mackintosh.

i did not Adore any of these comics from the library. i sort of enjoyed Night of the Ghoul, a one-volume TPB by Scott Snyder and Francesco Francavilla. i think ive blogged about this before but every once in a while i'll get a bee in my bonnet to read some horror comics even though i am a giant baby about horror movies.

Night of the Ghoul is about how you can't save your dad from PTSD but also about a lost horror film and also about the extremely dad behavior of tracking down every scrap of info about an auteur. there's also a monster.

the subtle art changes from present day to the remains of the film to the non-film flashbacks are well done, imo. the cover screams mignola but the inside pages are really fun pulp nonsense. i love a piece of genre writing that rolls around and delights in being a piece of genre writing.

im doing my level best not to get sucked into tiktok but i DO love watching this lady revive antique nail polish and look for dupes for shades from like the 20s. she found an almost exact dupe for a shade produced during wwii which is crazy insane to me!!!

-

watching

The Asphalt Jungle (1950, dir. Huston), it's a very painterly heist noir. i even like Sterling Hayden in one of the more prominent roles, even though i think he generally has the appeal of undercooked dough.

much like Fritz Lang's M, it presents the criminal element of the city as its own class with its own reputation and reference systems. it got in some trouble with the censors for having a VERY clearly laid out heist plan and execution. it's also got the babiest Marilyn Monroe in one of her earliest roles

this was such a gloriously messy movie. everyone is such a fucking mess. this woman only known as Doll is heartbreakingly, head over heels in love with Sterling Hayden's character. she's a little flighty and bumbling and silly, but determined! they're constantly orbiting the gravitational weight of her desire for this man and desire for a real life with this man. and that's just one subplot! she has maybe five minutes total screentime! she should have gotten a supporting actress oscar!!! everyone acted their fucking hearts out and it was so much fun to watch!

-

playing

monument valley is in the netflix games library this month (i don't actually know what their liscencing agreements would even look like, they and the studios they worked with were very tightlipped about that when they were rolling this out three years ago) but i assume it's going to be on the service for a while. i have never played this game, which makes me feel a little bit like a bad gamer. you can tell it's ten years old from some of the color and texture choices, but WOW did literally everyone take inspiration from this game.

this is the platonic ideal of a phone game. i get why everyone went insane about it and there was a brief boom of geometry-based puzzle mobile games. it is MUCH much harder now to get people to pay money to play a game that has a planned endpoint and planned number of levels, so netflix is a good home for it.

i was often frustrated but always delighted. the level below involves making something happening that made me genuinely gasp out loud in glee. well worth the annoyance of downloading the netflix app and scrolling through the poorly labeled and poorly sorted carousel of games.

great retrospective, a bit about how you need to have tiny teams go off and just kind of fuck around and bring weird stuff back, and a lot about how they actually designed the levels

The end result had a pixel-perfect axonometric aesthetic that not only went hard on its references to Dutch master artist and printmaker Maurits Cornelis Escher, but also dug deep into classic video game design, going right back to early arcade machines and 8-bit titles. Each of the ten levels is like a piece of fine furniture, built with invisible dovetail joints and inlaid with marquetry, stuffed with secret compartments and little design flourishes. Gray cites the world of theatre and stage design, as well as graphics, as important keystones in the way the levels were constructed. ‘Ken would always talk about flower arranging, and how you frame a silhouette of a level on the screen,’ he says.

-

making

update on the Phantom Menace fabric: pinked the raw edges and threw it in the laundry again with a very large quantity of vinegar. 50% poly was too high for it to really do anything, which is interesting. it didn’t lessen the seam edge effects either, which is a little annoying bc the seams were so gigantic and that’s a good chunk of fabric to lose. i am going to buy a camp shirt pattern at some point when i have money again but for now it goes in The Box

also! thrifted a pack of o-rings for jars for a dollar and finally put my grains etc in my pretty jars. they’re going to live in the pantry but today they live out on the countertop

[vexic929]

this is super random and i know you’re more of a Tom Eobard but have you seen the Doom World episode in Legends of Tomorrow? i'm obsessed with it and the whole concept and i always wondered what it would have been like with Barry in there. might you have any thoughts on Eobard rewriting a reality where Barry's not dead, he's his... however you want to picture that. or if you don't, it's okay :)

I actually haven't seen that episode (I've missed out on a lot of Legends episodes lol) but I'm now obsessed with this concept and if Eobard hasn't already tried to make Barry his (lover, slave, pet, child like he threatened that one time, you name it) in at least one timeline I'll eat my hat

Eobard would have to start very early, that much I'm sure of, molding Barry's life circumstances to lead him directly to Eobard, breaking him down mentally and emotionally so he's more amenable, getting rid of the positive influences in Barry's life and ensuring he's isolated - then it's just a matter of what does Eobard want from Barry; does he want to own him like a trophy or to form some sort of twisted relationship with him? I think it depends on the day, personally, but I'm inclined to think it leans more towards the latter as technically Barry wouldn't need to be alive to be Eo's trophy (although that is another interesting concept to explore later)

either way, Eobard would ease in to the relationship initially, offering Barry friendship, a confidante, maybe a mentor like with Dr. Wells (this concept would work very well with EoWells and that I definitely would like to write sometime lol) and slowly over time Eo would gain more and more control over Barry - not by force, though, I feel like he'd prefer it if Barry granted him the control himself, or at least most of it; sure he likes a good fight but this is his Barry, not the usual Barry after all - and without a support group, I think Barry would give him that control willingly if he asked; after all he trusts Eobard

[protagaster]

BLUE AND I APOLOGIZE SO MUCH FOR HOW LONG IT TOOK FOR THIS FIC TO BE RELEASED!!!

College finals, why must you continue to wound the tired and admittedly nuerodivergent souls of creatives...

On the bright side, we're already working on the next fic for the coming Saga so hopefully the wait won't be as long! I'm not gonna reveal the name of it right now, for I would hate for you all to be spoiled of the surprise ;)

I know I must sound like a broken record, but I truly feel I can never say it enough! I never would have been able to get this done without my favorite co-author and one of the greatest friends a girl could ask for in the entire world, the lovely @somereaderinblue! Seriously, you guys have no idea how much of an angel Blue is behind the scenes (though I'd forgive you for feeling otherwise based on her love for angst -_-)

Credit to Gigi and Aniflamma, two very talented artists who have made their own animatics of Ruthlessness! Without their animatics as a guide, I never would have gotten this done T_T. Also, check out Gigi's art of Amphitrite (Blue and I heavily based the au's version of the Sea Goddess on Gigi's drawing).

And, for the first of what I'm sure will be many times, a huge shoutout to mine and Willow's resident fanartist and the third member of our own little Golden Trio, the legendary @zippyskyfalls! Zippy has created SO MANY works of art dedicated to mine and Willow's version of the au, and it just wouldn't feel right gatekeeping her to ourselves! Love ya, Zippy <3

(Cross-Posted on AO3)

Ruthlessness

Sing, o' tides, of Amphitrite's wrath upon mortals, for ruthlessness is mercy upon ourselves.

~

The waters sustaining the Ithacan fleet changed dramatically. 

With tremendous willpower, the 44 women aboard the primary vessel, along with the 484 sailors who occupied the other 11 ships, tore their eyes away from the eerie unmoving orbs glowing through the ocean mist. Each and every one looked over their ship’s railings, trying to see what on earth was going on.

Penelope, Ctimene, and the other 42 bodies crowding around the wooden barrier between ship and sea watched with mounting dread as the sea’s surface raged into liquid chaos. 

Instantaneously, unnaturally so, a combination of swirling streams, bumpy waves, and tempestuous tides forced the fleet into an uncontrollable swaying that left every sailor struggling to focus on maintaining her balance lest she topples over. 

Even Penelope, the daughter of a Naiad, was having trouble grounding herself in the midst of the sea from whence her blood originated. She tried to focus, tried to force herself to look around to see what it was that affected the waters like a ladle stirring a bubbling pot of stew. However, the second Penelope made her attempt, the waves below impossibly raged even harder. 

Something, or someone, was actively working to keep her from gaining any control over the situation. 

But what, Penelope wondered, and why?

It didn’t even take a second to find the answer.

A fog of cold ocean mist blanketed the 12 ships; so thick it cut them off from the outside world. The surging tidal waves below forcibly shoved 11 of the 12 ships to crowd together in close enough proximity for oars to scrape hulls. The only exception was the leading ship, ahead and standing out from the rest of the fleet like a black sheep within a farmhand's herd. 

Penelope was the first to notice this, Ctimene closely after, with the rest of the crew realizing once they saw themselves pointedly separated from the others.   

Suddenly, goosebumps tingled in the back of Penelope’s neck. The sensation was a strange one, akin to the feeling of a wet hand giving her a harsh caress; a demand for attention probing her hindbrain.

Penelope unconsciously obliged when she turned herself around. 

Her stomach dropped when she realized the glowing orbs from before had disappeared. 

Before she could even ponder over where they could have gone, a giant squid’s tentacle burst out of the ocean like a spear. 

Amphitrite!

The one tentacle, longer and wider than Penelope’s entire ship, hovered over the vessel and cast a dark shadow over the women aboard it. 

Another tentacle followed shortly after. Then another. Then another. 

Amphitrite!

4 tentacles became 5, then 6, 7, 8, each one as long as it was big.

Amphitrite!

All 8 tentacles slammed down on the ocean’s surface.

The women flinched at the deafening crash every appendage roared in response. Through sheer volume alone, it was almost enough to make the sailors’ ears bleed.

Amphitrite!

The impact of the tentacles forced the surrounding waves to erupt in streams toward the sky, creating a curtained veil of water. For the elements to rage with such controlled intensity, it could only be at the hands of a deity.

A very, very angry deity.

The tentacles, resting motionlessly on the sea’s surface after their initial slam, all but retracted toward the other side of the tidal veil. Those appendages, so swift and graceful, barely made a break in the water screen.  

Behind this veil, the top of someone’s head broke the sea’s surface. 

Amphitrite!

The person behind the liquid curtain emerged fully from the waves, their height far surpassing the largest structures made by man and rivaling Gaia’s towering mountains. Using two of their tentacles, they parted the veil of aqua… 

And revealed herself to be a gorgeous woman, a being who was one with the seas themselves. 

Her refined physique, tall and proper, regal and poised, did not betray even a hint of imperfection. However, as she manifested a trident adorned with seashells on the handle, the entire weapon gleaming like quicksilver, she clenched the shaft in a manner that betrayed the intense fury and deep embitterment underlying her composure.

A strange looking diadem rested atop the mysterious being’s head; it was sleek and vaguely triangular, akin to the pointed crown of a squid. Their hair, waist-length and straight without a single strand of hair out of place, was layered with both natural tresses and eight squid-like tentacles.

Her skin was tinted the same crystalline blue and seafoam green one would often view looking over the bay, with nary a single scar or blemish to taint its excellence. Her eyes were pure blue orbs without pupils or sclera. This haunting gaze looked down on the women aboard the main ship with a cold, sharp glare. 

This gaze landed on one woman in particular… 

Penelope. 

Amphitrite!

Commanding the nearby tides to enclose her enormous being, the woman enveloped herself in swirling waves until her figure was completely covered. 

Then, quicker than a school of fish, those swirling waves became but a slender stream and traversed through the oceanic top, crawled up the front bow of the main ship, then squeezed in between the cracks of the wooden floorboard before splashing down at the front of the ship’s deck. 

The 44 women, having all ran to the other side of the deck in fear, watched as the water stream dispersed and revealed the same woman from before. Though smaller than before, she still towered over everyone by at least a head.

Amphitrite!

Penelope’s eyes widened. Her breath hitched painfully, for the salty air seemed to force her lungs to shrivel like salted fish. The cold sweat coating her skin seemed to make it shrink against her bones, turning her own body into a prison. 

This woman, Penelope realized, is a Goddess.

And not just any Goddess at that. The Queen of the Seas herself, mother to all the creatures who inhabit them, second only to Poseidon the Earthshaker with unlimited power over the vast ocean and all waters. The one, the only…

“Amphitrite…” 

The Goddess of the Seas looked down at the infesting vermin that dared taint her waters. She clenched the shaft of her trident, the ends of her hair flicking across the ocean’s surface with barely restrained ire..

It was funny, really. For as long as she was Queen of the Tides, the Goddess never cared to meddle in mortal affairs as her husband and his peers so regularly did. Why would she, when mortals are so plentiful and insignificant to a being as grandiose as she?

And yet, here in this moment, Amphitrite couldn’t help but finally understand why her husband would devote so much time into putting the mortals in their place.

Especially when they oozed such… nauseating self-important confidence as this “Penelope” did.

“In all my years of living It isn't very often that I get pissed off. I try to flow like the waves, but damn, you crossed the line…”

Before Ctimene or the others could even think of what they could do to try and defend their queen, one of Amphitrite’s tentacle-locks surged forward, swifter than any arrow, and wrapped painfully tight around Penelope’s left arm. 

The sheer power of its grip easily overpowered Penelope’s mere mortal strength. It picked her up as if she weighed nothing, then forcefully pulled her forward until she hovered face-to-face before the Ocean Goddess herself. Penelope gagged as the smell of brine and rotten wood assaulted her senses.

“I've been so gracious, and yet, you hurt this son of mine!” 

Penelope performed a double-take at Amphitrite’s declaration. 

Son, the smaller woman silently mouthed. What son? 

Penelope knew for a fact that she and her crew had not once brought harm to a creature of the sea, neither back in Troy’s warfront or on their ships whilst journeying home.  

Amphitrite immediately noticed the confusion evident in the mortal queen’s mind. Though she was filled with an unquenchable fury that was desperate to sate its thirst, Amphirtrite still had the sense to understand why Penelope would be so baffled with her claim.

And so, in what would be the first and final display of consideration that the Sea Goddess would spare the mortal, Amphitrite carelessly dropped Penelope onto the wooden floor. The Goddess uncoiled her tentacle from the mortal’s arm, though it left behind a discriminating shackle of bruises that branded her as Amphitrite’s prey. 

“That's right, the cyclops you made blind…”

Amphitrite’s beloved Polyphemus… 

Polyphemus, one of Poseidon’s many cyclops sons, one of the few Amphitrite grew fond of, for shared loneliness and sorrow was a powerful form of love in itself. A love not borne from blood ties, but from shared grief of knowing the pain of being shunned by their own kin, all because of a proclamation made by that damn Poseidon; whether they had been unwillingly chosen to be his bride, or ridiculed for not being a good enough son.

Polyphemus, who was so badly crippled and yet forced to continue a life of constant pain and perpetual humiliation; he who Poseidon refused to take vengeance for, and thus left the ruthless Amphitrite to avenge his suffering…

“Is mine.”

Penelope, having put pressure on her left arm to alleviate her growing ache, froze in all her bodily sensations, for the horrifying gravity of Amphitrite’s words had turned her insides to ice. 

“No…”

Now that this mortal woman knew of her sin, the Sea Goddess faced no guilt in incurring her justified comeuppance.

“I'm left without a choice and without a doubt, guess the pack of wolves is swimming with the sharks now!”

Willing her body to leave its solid confines, Amphitrite flooded the floor of the main ship. Once she’s through with them, not a single nail nor splinter will be left dry. The women aboard this overflowing vessel rushed to back away, afraid of what would happen if they let themselves touch the water that was once a Goddess’ sacred body. 

Luckily, it took only a moment before the flooding water parted across the wood, throwing itself overboard the ship.

SPLASH! 

Penelope ran as fast as she could to her ship’s railing, the others following closely behind her trail. All eyes scanned over the sea’s surface, trying to find where the Goddess had disappeared to. Penelope suddenly noticed a slender stream in her peripheral, one that flowed faster and shone brighter compared to her fellow waves, swimming in taunting circles around all 12 ships like sharks around blood. 

The sudden lull was maddening, doubly so when Gods know what divine retribution brewed in wait underneath them. Then, as quickly as before, the stream shaped itself into the Goddess’ enormous form. The Goddess loomed over them like a sea cliff towering above the ocean floor’s pebbles, and pierced her trident through the ocean’s shimmering blue surface.

“I have to make you bleed, I need to see you drown! But before you go, I need to make you learn how ruthlessness is mercy upon ourselves!”

A barrage of long rocks, sharpened to a point with protruding spikes, burst from deep below the ocean floor with the force of Charybdis’ teeth, dissipating the cloud of ocean mist that once blanketed their fleet. Oars snapped like twigs, yet miraculously the ships were largely untouched. 

The few who released a breath of relief should’ve known better, for even a predator with the sharpest fangs wasn’t against drawing out the hunt.

And a painless death was the last thing Nereus’ daughter had to offer.

Ruthlessness is mercy upon ourselves…

The Goddess jumped aboard Penelope’s main vessel, having sized herself down but still towering over them all. 

A weight, one Penelope hadn’t felt in a very long time, invaded each and every one of her senses, both physically and mentally. 

It took over Penelope’s very being, making everything that once seemed so easy an impossible feat. She couldn’t move, couldn’t breath, couldn’t think. 

Back then, when Ares was still her friend by her side, adrenaline would flood Penelope’s veins like the gods’ ichor, leaving her feeling practically invincible. While nowhere near the level of the great Achilles, she was at least able to rely on a constant stream of calm and confidence that’d been the foundation of a reliable composure whilst fighting Troy’s bloodiest of battles and facing off against only the best of their men. But now… 

Right here, going against a Goddess’ fury with no ounce of divinity to aid her, Penelope realized what it was that Ares left her to reap. 

Fear. 

The kind only a woman in over her head could experience.

“Ruthlessness is mercy upon ourselves,”

Amphitrite looked down at Penelope, giving the mortal woman a glare that could only be described as chilling. 

Penelope unconsciously stepped back,  as if her laughably small feet had any hope to carry her away from this damnation. She took no more than a couple steps before her back made contact with one of her crewmates; who, bless her soul, tried to offer some modicum of reassurance by gently stroking her bruised arm. She didn’t need to look to know the touch was Ctimene's.

Quicker than the free flow of her waters when cascading through wild, untamed falls, Amphitrite once again used her tentacle-lock to ensnare Penelope in her grasp.

However, Amphitrite’s aim was to make Penelope feel the same anguish and despair she so carelessly left Polyphemus to live with. Letting the mortal feel anything else, especially something as secure and comforting as safety, was an idea the Goddess would forbid anyone from entertaining.

This time, the squid-like appendage wrapped itself around the captain’s neck and torso, squeezing tight enough to make it difficult for Penelope to breathe. Amphitrite knew, for she’s seen the same expression countless times on beached fish.

“You are the worst kind of good 'cause you're not even great.”

Then, without any warning, Amphitrite violently struck Penelope’s cheek with her trident. How the Goddess’ strength sent her entire body flying out of her hold without detaching her head from her shoulders was a paltry silver lining.

Penelope, of course, was taken aback by the sudden shock of the weapon’s strike. The impact ricocheted throughout her skull like a bell, promptly swelling her eyes shut. A red line of liquid trickle down from underneath her eye down to the side of her chin, warm, wet, and iron.

Penelope couldn’t help but grimace. She’s seen and suffered enough wounds to know that will leave a mark.

The captain immediately forced her eyes to reopen, not at all willing to let herself to stay blind to whatever it was the Goddess had in store for her. Much to her surprise, though, Penelope no longer found herself on her ship with her crew nearby.

Now, the mortal woman stood all alone in a place so deep it was untouchable to Helios, one that had nothing but sandy floors and dark blue space that stretched for miles beyond what her eyes could see. Looking up, Penelope blanched at the telltale shimmering of an ocean’s surface flowing with wind and waves. 

Suddenly it became clear. With a combination of swift deduction and her past experiences with Ares, Penelope was able to make out exactly where she was: Amphitrite’s personal realm. 

Right on cue, a slender tidal stream that gleamed brighter than the rest flowed across the flying sea. 

Now that they were no longer in the presence of the other mortals, now that she no longer had to adhere to the standards of perfection and composure as ordered by the Queen of Olympus, Amphitrite no longer had any reason to hold back her fury. 

“A Greek who’ll preach of false righteousness, that's what I hate!”

Penelope's instincts, ones that took years to hone as a warrior of battles and more importantly, survival, screamed one single command:

DODGE.

She immediately leaped forward. Within that next second, Penelope heard the sound and felt the impact of something landing right behind her. Turning around, she saw a silver trident piercing the ground where she stood only a second ago. 

Penelope let out a heavy sigh, one mixed with both relief and distress. She had managed to get out of the way just in time; she was still alive, warm and breathing and colored with life. But… but if she hadn’t… 

The slender stream from above practically trembled with rage. She maneuvered herself out of the sky, flowing through her realm until hovering before that infuriating cockroach of a mortal. She changed shape, now taking on the form of a pair of glowing blue eyes. If looks could kill, even Penelope’s shade would have been smited thrice over.

Penelope immediately broke out of her stupor. She tore her gaze away, trying to keep those eyes from prying into those innermost thoughts and insecurities she tried desperately to keep hidden. 

But it was too late. 

A shark didn’t need its eyes to scent blood in its waters.

“Sure you fight to save lives, but won't kill and don't get the job done.”

The Goddess changed her form three times. 

The first time, she took the shape of a very familiar looking woman. Hair braided and draped around her shoulders like a noose, the pink ribbon so dark it was red as blood.

Circes. 

This watery imitation of her friend looked at Penelope with an expression that was extremely unbecoming of her. Her eyes did not sparkle with her signature light-hearted optimism and she did not wear her usual smile, a soft and warm beacon of comfort. No, this Circes’ eyes were dull and lifeless, her lips quivering as she silently cried out for her friend- 

“Captain…”

Circes’ figure came undone, spilling to the sandy floor as if she were cheap wine being carelessly poured from a chipped oinochoe. 

Penelope gripped a lock of her hair, tied back in a tail using that very same ribbon. 

The water lifted from where it haphazardly spilled itself, shifting its form a second time. This time, it shaped itself into the gigantic, daunting figure of a one-eyed monster wielding his signature wooden club. 

Polyphemus.

The cyclops looked down at Penelope. However, his gaze was not filled with the anger and contempt she so vehemently recalled seeing last time she looked into his giant eye. No, this version of the cyclops practically trembled in fear and grief as intruders desecrated the safe haven his home once was.

Then, the Cyclop’s eye all but exploded. Blood poured down from the now empty socket, dyeing the sandy ground with liquid sin. HIs maw cracked open in silent howls of agony, the corners uplifted ever so slightly by the fact that he at least managed to avenge his friend’s death.

The water that made up the Cyclop’s figure carefully cascaded down, removing itself from this form in a much more considerable manner than it had with its previous shape. 

“I mean, you honestly could have avoided all this had you just killed my son…”

Penelope watched as that damn stream rose in individual droplets, changing form for the third and final time. This time, though, the stream took shape in a manner that Penelope was forced to look into a pair of eyes that reflected her own.

Literally.

Amphitrite had transfigured her liquid body to look like an exact clone of Penelope. From the loose strand of hair that refused to be tamed by the pink ribbon, the unnaturally pointed canines of a naiad’s kin, and even the many scars that the Goddess must have thought to be “unbecoming” of a lady. 

The watery caricature of her was holding something, no, someone in her arms, gently in consideration for his tiny fragile figure. He was bundled up nice and tight inside a handmade quilt, woven by loving hands that fought to keep him ignorant to the atrocities that would constantly occur outside his haven. 

Any mother could recognise the fondness behind the hand caressing his cheek. However, when she met the real Penelope’s eyes, any facsimile of tenderness in her being turned cold and remorseless as ice.

“But no.”

The bundle was dropped to the floor with a sickening SPLAT and oh, what a horrid sound even the tiniest human body would make when bones shattered and organs crushed. 

Caustic sour bile burned Penelope’s throat. She thought she couldn’t handle 9 nights worth of sleep but after seeing this nightmare, she never wants to fall asleep ever again. Not if it meant she could hide away from this monster that looked like her, that was her-

Was-

Was that really what Penelope looked like? W-when she… when she did it?

Amphitrite, though content with how deeply disturbed the mortal was growing, was still not satisfied. 

Even though she had managed to quell her thirst with the ambrosia that was Penelope’s emotional turmoil, there was still a savage hunger that continued to growl and claw at the Goddess’ inner self: one that wanted to make the mortal suffer outside as she did within. 

“You are far too nice,” Amphitrite summoned her signature trident, peering over all three spear-points to glare directly over where Penelope stood. “Mercy has a price!”

The Goddess wasted not even a second before pouncing on the mortal, lunging after her like a crab pinching its claws in order to capture the fish unlucky enough to be marked its prey. 

“It's the final crack, we're bound to break the ice now!”

Again, Penelope just barely managed to jump away. She refused to take her eyes off the trident, aware that those triple spikes wanted nothing more than to pierce soft, weakened flesh, and be stained with that oh-so precious liquid life. 

However, right after jumping out of harm's way, Amphitrite summoned a cluster of jagged rocks to burst out of the sand and penetrate the ground from where Penelope stood. The mortal threw her body forward, all instinct and no coordination, barely avoiding being punctured by the earthen spikes. 

Unfortunately, as she was momentarily caught off guard, this gave the Goddess the opportunity to wrap an unyielding tentacle around Penelope’s waist and mercilessly hurl her around like a ragdoll.

“You reveal your name, then you let him live!”

The impact of her body hitting the hard, grainy ground knocked the wind right out of her. 

WIth painful gasps of breath and flesh made bruised and tender, all Penelope could do was lay on the floor, her eyes snapped closed against her will. She tried to force her eyes to reopen, screamed at her limbs to help her stand back up, but all of it was for not. She just…..couldn’t. 

Amphitrite internally scoffed at the human body’s limitations. Then again, as fragile as mortal fleh was, physical pain was always temporary. No, even if beaten to an inch of her life a hundred times over, it still wouldn’t be enough to truly drill into the mortal the lesson the Goddess was trying to teach her. 

If Penelope was to learn that ruthlessness is mercy, Amphitrite needed to break her spirit. 

And she knew just how to do it. 

“Unlike you, I've got no mercy left to give 'cause-”

Amphitrite lifted her trident high over her head. She aimed her weapon directly over Penelope’s left breast, the three blades practically gleaming with the anticipation of being coated with liquid life. 

Then, without an ounce of hesitation, Amphitrite thrust the trident deep into Penelope’s flesh.

“Ruthlessness is mercy upon ourselves!”

Penelope’s eyes instantly opened with a start. 

Her hands instinctively shot to her chest, searching for three holes overflowing with gore. However, as she scanned her whole torso, Penelope was unable to find any rip, wound, or even a trickle of blood. 

What? Penelope wondered to herself, where is-

Suddenly, it all clicked. Penelope realized that everything that just happened to her had been an illusion, nauseatingly vivid as it was. Like Ares’ realm, while everything that occurred within a God’s personal space may feel real, none of it truly is. 

Sure enough, as she looked around to confirm her conclusion, Penelope saw she was no longer trapped in limbo within the vast blue realm. Now, Penelope was back on her ship; the ground where she sat stiff and wooden, with the light blue sky and deep ocean waves back in their rightful place. 

Meanwhile, the rest of the crew stared at their captain, all 43 members standing cautiously on the opposite end of the ship’s deck. What felt like eternity to Penelope, being beaten and ripped senselessly by the will of a Goddess, lasted for less than a minute to the rest of the world. 

One of the crew members though, for her part, saw the tell-tale signs of excruciating pain her captain was experiencing and refused to stand by idly.

Ctimene quickly ran over to her sister’s side, collecting Penelope in her arms and helping her up to a standing one. Penelope was grateful for the aid, for she knew any attempt to accomplish this simple feat on her own would only result in humiliating consequences. 

But this was no time to relax just yet. 

Ruthlessness is mercy upon ourselves…

Both women looked up warily, their gazes landing on the divine figure standing atop the edge of their ship’s wooden railing. 

There Amphitrite stood, so still she seemed more spectral than goddess. Even after everything she put Penelope through mere moments ago, throwing her decorum to the side in exchange for unleashing her boiling rage, the Goddess did not at all stray from the illusion of perfection her kind was required to display when in the occupancy of mortals.

“Ruthlessness is mercy upon ourselves…”

Amphitrite glared coldly at Penelope, the intentions in her eyes not even attempting to be hidden; all this time she was merely playing with her food. But now, she was beginning to no longer hold the desire to continue tormenting her prey. 

Perhaps, Amphitrite thought to herself, it is time to begin her closing act.

The Goddess’ presence swiftly dissolved out from its solid confines, returning to her most liberating self. Amphitrite once again shaped her water-self into that familiar slender stream before throwing herself overboard the ship for the second time that day.

As Penelope and the other’s expected, no more than a minute passed before the ocean top bubbled and stretched; something was attempting to break through the sea’s surface. 

However, what emerged from the deep thereafter was not the head of the Sea Goddess. It was her tentacles, two of them to be exact. 

Now back to the same colossal size when first making themselves known to the fleet, those two appendages wrapped themselves around both ends of the main ship until it was held securely in their grasp. Penelope and her main crew all ran over the center of their ship’s deck in an effort to stay as far away from those powerful extensions as possible. 

But then, much to their collective surprise, the sailors watched helplessly as the tentacles picked the entire ship up and out of the water entirely, until those below could see every barnacle amassed underneath. The uplifted ship was unnervingly high enough to be untouchable to the ocean, but not high enough to be unseeable to the rest of the fleet. If anything, this new position only gave the crew a perfect view of the ones below.

Before Penelope could contemplate the purpose behind this action, a giant head broke the ocean’s fragile surface. The rest of her came flying out shortly after, her towering figure standing over where her tentacles held the lifted ship at her eye-level. 

“And now it is finally time to say goodbye, today you die-”

Suddenly, Amphitrite's expression morphed into something different.

This entire time, from the moment the Goddess first presented herself, to when she beat her lesson into the mortal woman both physically and emotionally, Penelope never once saw an emotion displayed in their pupil-less eyes that wasn’t stemmed from overflowing fury. 

But now…

Amphitrite’s eyes changed. No longer were they the unfamiliar, unreachable to the mortals who dared look into them. Those eyes became almost intimate in their familiarity for they were a whirlpool of emotions that Penelope constantly experienced even before she first boarded this ship and sailed away from all she once knew. 

Those were the eyes of someone spent everyday in battle, whether mundane or epic, fighting for the future of one’s greatest and proudest feat in life. 

The eyes of a mother. 

“Unless, of course, you apologize for my son's pain and all his cries.”

Penelope froze.

She waited for Amphitrite’s hate-filled gaze to return, this time conjoined with a glint of mocking. She waited for the Goddess’ lips to curl up in a cruel smile, laughing at the false hope that dared to flicker across the mortals’ faces. She waited for the Sea Queen to revoke her statement, declaring that they were stupid to have ever believed they would be spared her wrath.

.

.

.

But nothing of the sort occurred. 

Not too long ago, Penelope thought herself to be immune to the surprises the Gods’ whims could think to throw at her. Back then, it was the Queen of Olympus who easily proved this ideal to be a wishful one, and now it was the Sea Queen to further show the truth behind this notion. 

All Penelope had to do was give an apology to Amphitrite, a sincere one that rang true from the bottom of her heart, and her fleet would be let go to live another day. All she had to do was prostrate in humility and acknowledge her violence, that what she did was not necessary, and the Goddess would forgive her for her crime. 

It sounded so easy…

But it wasn’t. 

How could Penelope possibly declare her actions against the Cyclops unnecessary, that SHE was anywhere in the wrong, after he so mercilessly stole Circes’ life as if she were nothing more than an inconvenience, an insignificant means to an end!? 

It wasn’t just Circes, either. The Cyclops’ brutal hands were stained with the blood of Penelope’s most cherished friend and 72 of her sisters-in-arms!

72 sisters, daughters, mothers and wives. 72 people who weren’t just faceless mortals made to occupy space on Gaia’s endless domain. Each of those murdered women was someone. Someone with her own real life experiences, someone forced to leave her home at a time when she was needed most. They were women who, after experiencing the worst of what man had to offer, still decided to put full faith in Penelope and her leadership. They found solace in their captain’s patient strategies and heart-fueled strength, choosing full-heartedly to trust their queen with their lives even when the odds stacked impossibly high against them.

Yes, Penelope and her sisters-in-arms invaded the Cyclops home and killed his most favored sheep, one of the few creatures in this land who chose not to leave his side. But none of them knew of this until after the deed was done. Penelope did what she had to to compensate for her ignorance, offering the Cyclops a gift in exchange for allowing her and her women to leave with their hearts still beating.  

Penelope was the one to offer peace. The Cyclops ignored that offer. Everything that happened from then on was HIS doing, not hers. 

Still, even if she cannot offer a traditional apology to his divine stepmother, Penelope could at least explain the reasoning behind her actions. 

Penelope lowered herself to near the ship’s wooden floor, promptly getting down to her knees. She bent the upper half of her body forward, prostrating before Amphitrite in an effort to visually showcase her respect and submission. 

The rest of the crew, coming to a collective understanding of what Penelope was doing, quickly followed the actions of their captain. Before long, all 44 women aboard the ship bowed before the Goddess in the hopes that it would ease her wrath. 

“Amphitrite, we meant no harm, we only hurt him to disarm him.” 

Lifting herself from her bowed stance, a hand placed atop her breast over where her heart would be, Penelope gazed at the Goddess with a look of genuine sincerity that matched her corresponding words. 

“We took no pleasure in his pain, we only wanted to escape.” 

Amphitrite’s pupil-less eyes remained blank, her lips cutting a bloodless line across her face. On the outside, the Sea Queen appeared to have not even heard Penelope’s choice of words. 

On the outside. 

Inside the sanctity of her innermost thoughts, wants, and desires, Amphitrite finally came to understand why some mortals rose to be leaders while others were content to simply be followers. 

Words were powerful weapons, but when combined with enough confidence, it turned into something lethal: poison. A poison eagerly swallowed by those who were fooled into believing it was medicine. Even the most stubborn individuals would accept the foul concoction if mixed with enough honey.

But to an experienced listener, one who was also of high standing and born into a life full of more secrets than sincerity, where deception and avoidance of consequences were as commonplace as the air land dwellers breathe, they could tell the words spoken of the mortal were just that. 

Excuses.

“The line between naïveté and hopefulness is almost invisible.” 

At that moment, Penelope became nothing more than another faceless mortal; she made the fatal mistake of thinking herself to be above even someone as divine and grandiose as a God. 

It was time for Amphitrite to remind the little mortal of who exactly she was. 

“So close your heart, the world’s too dark and…”

Less than a Goddess. 

Less than a man, even.

No, Penelope was just a woman.  

A woman who was about to learn firsthand how ruthlessness is mercy upon all.

Amphitrite’s remaining six tentacles flew out from her long, flowing mane and hovered precariously over the water. Her lips twisted into a cruel, anticipating smile. Her eyes glowed brighter than the moon, malicious darkness glinting within.

Amphirtire raised her trident-

“Die.”

And stabbed the ocean below. 

Suddenly, the 11 ships floating aimlessly among the restless waves were left haplessly to fend for themselves. The women aboard those vessels were easily overpowered, engulfed by the unstoppable torrents of ocean tide, squid tentacles, and sea-floor rock. 

Captain!

Ruthlessness is-

Captain!

-mercy upon our-

C a p t a i n-!

Six watercrafts built to sustain even the worst perils and wars and waters shattered like eggshells under the tentacles. Wood splintered, nails bent and those too slow to dodge the appendages were reduced to a mangled mess of ruined gore for the fishes to feast upon.

The other five ships were not spared of such brutality. Many rock structures came bursting out from the ocean, instantly puncturing those ship’s wooden frames like pigs on a spit and many of the women unfortunate enough to be aboard them. Vessel, cargo, human, none of it mattered, none were spared from destruction.

None could stop calling, screaming, begging, even praying for their-

Captain!

Ruthlessness is-

Captain!

-mercy upon our-

C a p t a i n-!

A handful tried to avoid such a painful demise by jumping overboard their ships in order to keep themselves from either getting crushed by a tentacle or having their flesh pierced by spiked rock, deciding to brave the haphazard waters as the lesser of two evils. They desperately climbed and held onto the wooden debris left behind from their now destroyed ships. Sadly for some, said debris spelled their doom as the solid objects caved their skulls or skewered their flesh upon a mistimed landing.

Many of the sailors tried to help their sisters, whether it be dragging them onto their makeshift floats or holding on to each other in hopes of their shared strength being enough to keep themselves from being swept away by those unstable, raging waves. 

But alas, all of it was for naught.

If unity were truly all it took to withstand a god’s wrath, kingdoms and empires would not revere them as much as they do now.

They did not fare a chance against the tides that crashed into them over, and over, and over, and over again, not at all close to stopping even when the ocean’s signature blue slowly began to mix with thick, heavy red. Like wine, the water turned drunk with death.

Ruthlessness is-

Captain!

-mercy upon our-

Captain!

The sounds tearing Penelope’s throat raw were animalistic with despair as the captain fought against the hold of her sisters, arm outstretched desperately as if the puny limb could simply reach out and pluck her doomed comrades from Amphitrite’s grasp like low-hanging fruit.

Penelope watched this all happen, eyes wide and jarring and full of unbridled pain. 

For that was all she could do. 

Watch.

Watch as tentacles, rocks, and waves each did their part to completely and utterly destroy her Ithacan fleets and the precious cargo they carried. 

Their screams…

So many screams… 

Oh Gods… 

485 voices, all of them begging for their lives. All of them calling out for her, faith warped to helpless fear.

And yet, Penelope could do nothing but watch. Watch as her precious subjects, her friends, her sisters, each had their breath of life so painfully replaced with poisonous salt of the sea. 

Ruthlessness is-

C a p t a i n!!

And then, just like that, the chaos ceased. 

No more struggle. No more destruction. No more screams.

The 6 tentacles returned to their place among the Sea Goddess’ tresses, the pointed rocks descended back to their rightful place in the ocean floor, and the sea’s tidal waves calmed to near serenity. The leading vessel was placed back on the coastal top with a gentleness that was practically alien; a mocking gesture, when considering the carnage that was so senselessly committed mere seconds ago. 

Penelope’s breath huffed and heaved, heavy and strained. Her eyes stared wide, unblinking, unwilling to look away from the scene before her. Her voice keened through her teeth like the battered wounded beast it's been reduced to.

“What have you done?” 

The debris of destroyed ships was scattered as far as the eye could see. Bodies littered the oceanfront, some whole, others not, all of them grotesquely bloated with seawater. The ocean was such a sanguine red, the sands at its depth were likely dyed the same shade, grains clogged with bone.

When does a ripple become a tidal wave?

Ctimene, Palagia, Erato, every single woman aboard the 12th ship, none of them uttered a single sound. They could only stare at the aftermath of their friends’ massacres with bloodshot eyes, huddled bodies trembling, hands covering their mouths or clutching onto those closest to them, all while in a desperate attempt to ground themselves. 

A horrible ringing wouldn't stop pounding in Penelope’s ears. She couldn’t tell the cause of it. 

Was it the overpowering, deafening sounds of her sisters’ screams for her to save them, or was it the sudden dead silence that followed immediately after?

Amphitrite returned to Penelope’s side. For the very first time since their initial encounter, the stoic Goddess wore a smile brimming with pride and self-satisfaction. Amphitrite gently placed her hand atop Penelope’s head, clammy fingers stroking the curls. It was not comfort, such sentiment was beneath her kind. But condescension? She had enough of that to fill another ocean entirely.

“43 left under your command.” her voice was so cold it burned the shell of her ear.

43. 

600 women led through war with their lives all miraculously intact. 528 managed to escape with their hearts still beating after their brush with the Cyclops. And now, a meager 43 remained after the devastation caused by his mother. 

With only 1 to blame for this slaughter, only 1 to bear the weight of all of their deaths. 

When does someone become a monster?

Penelope could do nothing against the tears welling in the corners of her eyes. She stared down at her hands, swearing that she could feel the blood of her comrades dripping through those calloused fingers, already drying across the skin. 

She rested her head within those hands. She fell to her knees, unable to sustain herself against how heavy everything now felt. Her heart, once the source of her most formidable and valuable strength, weakened to a fault.

Amphitrite looked down at the mortal, no doubt agonized with every breath she took in place of those who no longer could. The goddess’ gills fluttered at the heady scent mingling with familiar salt and blood.

Sorrow. 

Anguish. 

Failure. 

“I am your darkest moment,” Penelope feebly peered through her fingers at the awful, beautiful Goddess and her blinding silver trident. “The monster that always draws near…”

But that wasn’t the only thing she saw through the gap of her fingers. Penelope noticed something laying inconspicuously by the Goddess’ feet. A strange brown bag, tied with rainbow string…

Amphitrite, still wearing that smug smile, directed the sharp prongs of her favored weapon at the still-kneeling mortal woman’s throat. 

“Any last words?”

Penelope lifted her head out of her hands, starring the Goddess right in the eye. With her right hand slowly traveling to her hip, Penelope opened her mouth to utter those “final” words-

“All I gotta do is open this bag!”

“What!?”

Penelope whipped out the hidden dagger she always kept on her person in case of emergencies. She quickly flung the sharp blade to where the wind bag lay, destroying the sack without an ounce of hesitation. 

Suddenly, the leftover storm from before came spilling out all at once. 

Amphitrite, caught completely off-guard without the opportunity to brace herself, was sent flying overboard after the ship’s sails picked up the storm’s incredibly powerful winds.

Just like before, the ship was unable to control itself from following the set path of those winds. This incredible speed, though damaging the ship’s wooden exterior with every mile it traveled, made it so the ship could travel far away from its biggest threat. 

Amphitrite could only stare in disbelief as the ship kept sailing farther and farther away, too fast a pace for even the Sea Goddess. 

Penelope stared as well, watching as Amphitrite’s form soon became nothing more than a dot in the horizon. Similar to how it was prior, the winds made the ships go full speed ahead at an incredible rate. And, for a second, Penelope swore she heard Aeolus’ mischievous giggle once again reverberating with the wind’s harsh blow. 

Though the captain knew not where they were headed, she knew that they would be alright for the time being as long as they were as far away as possible from Amphitrite.  

Unfortunately, the Goddess was not keen to just let things end so anticlimacticly. 

Her eyes glowed an eerie light blue. 

Amphitrite stared in the direction of the disappearing ship until it was completely out of view. Then, the Goddess clicked her tongue and flicked her hair over her shoulder, annoyed at the shipwrecks entangled in it.

“Remember me…”

[ashwii]

Celestial AU FAQ

Usually I prefer pinning my favorite artworks to the top of my profile, but over the last couple weeks I've gotten MANY repeat questions about my rottmnt celestial AU. I never mind answering questions, but I want to limit how many asks I answer to keep everyone else's dashboard's in mind [i.e. I don't want to clog up other people's tumblr with several asks that have been answered in the past.]

Below is a list of general frequently asked questions regarding my celestial au. Even more detailed information and questions can be found in the "#celestialFAQ" tag on my blog.

What is the Celestial AU?

It's a ROTTMNT au where Leo, Donnie, Raph, and Mikey embody celetial bodies. Leo embodies the stars, Donnie embodies the Moon, Raph embodies the Sun, and Mikey embodies the comets.

Can you tell us more about what they are?

Leo is the stars — he overlooks the stars as a guardian figure. While he thinks of his stars as his children, he is also an embodiment of the stars — he IS the stars. They are one and the same.

The same goes for Mikey and his comets. Although, while Mikey specifically embodies and overlooks the comets, he also overlooks all them zippy lil' things in the galaxy [meteors, asteroids, etc.]

Donnie and Raph are a little different — Donnie specifically ONLY embodies Earth's moon, and is the overlooker of all the other moons in the universe. The same goes for Raph and Earth's Sun.

Are there any other characters in this AU [Splinter, April, Drax, Krang, etc]?

[As of writing this] The only other characters in this AU are April [an astronaut who works for NASA / an aspiring astronaut], and S.H.E.L.D.O.N. [a robot made of lost junk and lost space tech that Donnie found]. I do not plan for there to be any other characters in this au, as I mainly want to draw and focus on the turtles.

There have been lots of fun headcanons in the askbox about who else could be in the au and what they would embody, and I think that's great! I love all the fanart and creativity everyone is doing for this AU, I will never be mad at exploring fun ideas [I've even doodled some of these ideas for fun] — as for what is "canon" in the AU though, at the moment I'm going to keep it as the turtles, April, and S.H.E.L.D.O.N.

What's the lore behind this AU?

There is no real lore behind this AU, just a bunch of fun ideas in a fun concept. Lots of other people have had fun coming up with their own lore and ideas for this AU, and once again, I think that's great! There's so many ideas other people came up with that I love — but again, in terms of "canon" and what I'm willing to draw, there's no legitimate lore for this AU.

The Sun is also a star. Does that mean Sun!Raph has a special relation to Star!Leo in some way?

Yes! Leo and Raph have a very strong special connection in this AU because of this.

Do the celestials control what they embody?

Control isn't exactly the right word — say for Star!Leo, for example, he's more of a guardian figure to the stars. "Control" implies that the stars have no personality of their own whatsoever, but that's not exactly true. They almost have their own little life to them — like a healthy tree —that Leo can understand since the stars and Leo are one in the same.

What are Moon!Donnie's alternate phases?

Moon!Donnie's alters are Blood Moon, Harvest Moon, Blue Moon, and Super Moon. Moon!Donnie's design also changes some depending on the phase of the Moon [eg. During the Full Moon phase, Donnie has no shadow up his arms and legs. During the New Moon phase, Donnie is all encompassed in shadow].

Is there any more info about these phases?

During Donnie's Blood Moon phase, he tends to be a little more mischievous and violent. He's ready to kill, no questions asked.

During his Blue Moon phase, he's a little sadder than usual. He's not breaking down every minute or endlessly sobbing — he's more just a little blue (heh) and the unending river of tears just comes with the phase. He just needs some cuddles and comfort during this time <3

Harvest Moon Donnie is a happy lil guy! He's a little chipper and cuddly during this time, hapoy to help and talk with his brothers on end.

These phases don't COMPLETELY change his personality — he still the same Donnie, but just with little changes to his overall mood.

There are many more types/names for the Moon [Snow Moon, Worm Moon, Flower Moon, etc.] — will you be drawing those as designs for Moon!Donnie as well?

While I think I may sketch out some of them for fun, in terms of "canon" to the AU, I want to keep it limited to what I listed above in the previous question.

Are there any alternate versions of the other celestials?

Sun!Raph gets sun flares when he's upset, and I have a Nova!Leo design in the works. I haven't thought of any alternate versions for Comet!Mikey, but I don't think he needs one, haha.

What happens during an eclipse?

During a solar eclipse, Raph gives Donnie a hug from behind. During a lunar eclipse, I like to imagine that Donnie is hiding behind the earth because he ticked Raph off.

Can Star!Leo feel it when any stars die?

Yes, he does. I explained in much more detail in the "#celestialFAQ" tag, but when his stars die, it hurts him some emotionally and physically.

Whenever the Sun [Raph] would explode in the future, Star!Leo will be out of commission for a while because of how much it would hurt him.

What is Star!Leo's relationship with the stars?

Leo is the stars, point blank. He is the personification of them. He's all the stars, he is them, they are he. One and the same. BUT there's also a special relationship there — Leo looks at the stars like they're his children, almost. A very deep connection and love. The stars feel that deep love for Leo too, they see him as almost a guardian figure. They love him more than anything, and Leo knows that.

Now HOW can the idea that Leo looks at the stars like they're his children, and the idea that Leo is just straight up the personification of the stars (him being all of the stars) both be true at the same time? Ah — no real answer there. It just kind of is, and it's more of a feeling that I myself have. That's just the way that I personally feel Leo's relationship with the stars is, even if I'm never able to describe it quite perfectly, and even if it's confusing to everyone else lmao.

Do the celestial turtles still have their weapons like the canon turtles?

Yes they do — Star!Leo has katanas made of constellations, Moon!Donnie has his staff made of shadow, Sun!Raph's fists fire up, and Comet!Mikey's comets and meteors spin around him and he can shoot them where he pleased.

Is this AU meant to be accurate about how astrology and space works?

Not at all — there are a lot of inaccuracies in this AU. But what's the fun of making an au like this if I have to keep everything pinpoint accurate! This AU is for good, fun vibes, and it's ok if not everything matches up with exactly how space works.

Can I make fanart/fanfics for this au?

Yes, you can! If you do, please tag me and lmk, I'd absolutely love to see what you guys make. Oc's and fan characters are welcome as well.

[ofmermaidstories]

You have such a great grasp on dialogue. The way you weave the things that are being said with the body language and the actions of the characters flows so nicely. I struggle to not let my dialogue be a he said, she said type of deal so I was wondering if you had any tips? I really admire how you create such magic with your writing!!

Oh, shucks. 🥹 You flatter me. But—he said, she said can be really impactful!!! i don’t think you should consider it a struggle. 🥺 it’s so—zippy, and quick! good for funny scenes. 🥹 and if you’re in moments in your writing where you don’t want the dialogue to be so snappy, having your POV character just take note of how the other/s are saying what they are is a good way of grounding the scene. And obviously what they observe (or don’t observe!) is dependant on who they are. A more confident character might just directly meet the other’s gaze, head on, in a convo, while our shier friend might distract themselves with watching the other’s fingers fanning out on a table, or something. If they’re not people who are attracted to each other (thus making them more likely to clock tiny details) then maybe one character is watching the other’s face and feeling something like, disgust for how it’s moving, lmao. Or they’re looking beyond them, half listening, and missing the small, important details that body language can do to recontexualise a convo, like… shrugging, or raising an eyebrow. Play act! Have the conversation with yourself. Imagine you’re having it with someone you’re painfully in love with, or you can’t stand, or your best friend—do you relax? Do you tighten up? Adding that kind of detail is just about asking yourself a hundred different questions, and then testing out the answers. 🥹