#“Do my mother and mortal father hate me for dying?”

[glipuroo]

Such a goober this man

So like when Jesus resurrected did he come to life and leave immediately or like. Did he sit around in the dark for a little bit kicking his feet

[xoxochb]

— glue song ꣑ৎ‧₊˚.

warnings: swearing, kinda rushed ending pairing: luke castellan x daughter of hades a/n: first chapter… drop your opinions!

series m. list

the multiverse theory is the ideology that there are separate universes beyond this. many scientists have researched studies to retrieve a clear answer, yet nothing has been found. many people additionally like to make a belief that them and their most beloved would be different in this alternate universes. many think they might hate each other, love each other, or simply not know of each others existence.

you— the only daughter of hades at camp half-blood believe strongly in the fact that you and your best friend, head counselor of hermes cabin, would be best friends regardless of the opposite universe. luke castellan doesn’t think much into your science-y stuff, but if he ever finds you rambling he can’t help but listen because you’re you! disregarding his opinion on science theories if you love them that means he loves them, it’s a mutual thing, truly.

anyways, on days such as these, the slow ones where there aren’t much exciting events or camp duties, you find yourself cooped up in the coldness of cabin thirteen, a silent cabin all to yourself. this was only until your brother decided to move back in from cabin seven— then you would have to share it, unfortunately. you keep a book open in your lap, reading over the lines of endless words, entrancing yourself into the fictional world that is your book.

it was silent, and it was perfect and the fireplace crackling only added onto your cozy aura. you can’t help but let out a tiny squeal at this, then returning back to your seriousness of reading. but you were naive to think that you would get alone time for at least something as simple as an hour, soon enough the door to your cabin opens and you frown, refraining from looking up from your book and ignoring the person walking towards your bed. but by the prominent mop of dark curls you know who it is.

“not even gonna spare me a glance? you wound me, nerd, truly.”

“go away, luke, this is my silent reading time.”

he doesn’t listen. instead, luke ushers you to slide over as he takes a seat beside you on your bed.

“what’s the book of choice for today?”

“the shining.”

luke nods slowly. “I like the movie better.”

you remain silent and try to get yourself back into the book world as luke returns to silence. you’re disrupted again when his finger twirls around a strand of your hair delicately. you sigh and attempt to ignore it. until he tugs at it

“what the fuck are you doing! stop it!” you take your hair from his hold as he laughs at your dismay. “I’m not laughing, I don’t find you funny.”

“really? because I think I’m hilarious.”

your mouth remains shut.

“c’mon, nerd, talk to me. I’m dying here.”

“great. I’ll see you at the gates.”

luke opens his mouth to speak but ultimately decides not to say anything. you’d known luke since your first arrival at camp back when you were ten, you’d came straight from the underworld where you lived with your father. as a demigod, typically you’d stay with your mortal parent, however, your mother had apparent ‘complications’ said by your father and you were forced to live in his palace for the first years of your life until he deemed it unhealthy for you to be cooped up down there for so long. when you’d arrived at camp, luke had been one of the only campers that had spoken to you— most to all of the others wouldn’t dare look in your direction due to your godly heritage.

but luke didn’t care about that. he welcomed you happily and allowed you to befriend him, since this, you had been inseparable. when you were fifteen he discovered your passion for all things astronomy while catching you reading a planets book by the lake one afternoon. he had sat beside you and listened as you rambled until the moon rose and the sun set, nonsense he declared it, just a bunch of your nerdy stars and planets bullshit he’d never cared for before. but since meeting you he’d grown to become fond of them— they were always a quiet reminder of you. and welcome the nickname. ‘nerd’ he calls you. at first you hated it, after a year or two you got used to it and stopped complaining.

“I’ll get to see you?”

“that’s not—” you search for the right words. “stop.“

“you’ve gotta make a more convincing argument, nerd.”

“well I want you to stop, isn’t that enough?”

“alright, my mouth is zipped.” luke makes a zipper motion over his mouth. you turn back to your book and try to re-read the lines again. luke places his head atop yours, inhaling the scent of your shampoo. he frowns. “you smell different. like vanilla. you usually smell like berries.”

“you got an emotional attachment to the berry conditioner?”

he shrugs. “I did.”

“I’ll make sure to buy that one next time then since your feelings are so hurt.”

“really? you’re great, nerd, thanks.”

you shake your head slowly. the cabin returns back to silence, a comfortable silence. yet you secretly wish he would say something again, even if it’s utterly stupid. and unbeknownst to you, luke wishes only the same of you.

[calisources]

𝐓𝐑𝐎𝐘 (𝟐𝟎𝟎𝟒) 𝐐𝐔𝐎𝐓𝐄𝐒 𝐒𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐍𝐂𝐄𝐒. all quotes and sentences were taken from the movie troy (2004). change locations, names and pronouns as you see fit. mentions of war and politics are included in this post.

 I'll tell you a secret. Something they don't teach you in your temple. The Gods envy us. They envy us because we're mortal, because any moment might be our last. 

Everything is more beautiful because we're doomed. You will never be lovelier than you are now.

If they ever tell my story let them say that I walked with giants.

Men rise and fall like the winter wheat, but these names will never die. 

Let them say I lived in the time of Hector, tamer of horses. Let them say I lived in the time of Achilles.

You gave me peace in a lifetime of war.

You're still my enemy in the morning.

You're still my enemy tonight. But even enemies can show respect.

I have endured what no one on earth has endured before. I kissed the hands of the man who killed my son.

I know my country better than the Greeks, I think.

 You are a brave man. I could have your head on a spit in the blink of an eye.

 Do you really think death frightens me now? I watched my eldest son die, watched you drag his body behind your chariot.

Give him back to me. He deserves a proper burial, you know that. Give him to me.

How many cousins have you killed? How many sons and fathers and brothers and husbands? How many, brave Achilles?

I knew your father, he died before his time. But he was lucky not to live long enough to see his son fall.

War is young men dying and old men talking. You know this. Ignore the politics.

My brothers of the sword! I would rather fight beside you than any army of thousands! Let no man forget how menacing we are.

Do you know what's waiting beyond that beach? Immortality! Take it! It's yours!

 I chose nothing. I was born and this is what I am.

Imagine a king who fights his own battles. Wouldn't that be a sight?

Of all the warlords loved by the gods, I hate him the most.

Will strangers hear our names long after we are gone, and wonder who we were, how bravely we fought, how fiercely we loved?

Men are haunted by the vastness of eternity.

You say you're willing to die for love but you know nothing about dying and you know nothing about love!

Go home, prince. Drink some wine, make love to your wife. Tomorrow, we'll have our war.

Perhaps your brother can comfort them. I hear he's good at charming other men's wives.

You speak of war as if it's a game.

But how many wives wait at Troy's gates for husbands they'll never see again?

If you go to Troy, glory will be yours. 

And the world will remember your name. But if you go to Troy, you will never come back... for your glory walks hand-in-hand with your doom. And I shall never see you again.

 They say your mother was an immortal godess. They say you can't be killed.

You have your swords. I have my tricks. We play with the toys the gods give us.

All my life I've lived by a code and the code is simple: honor the gods, love your woman and defend your country.

Troy is mother to us all. Fight for her!

There are no pacts between lions and men.

Aren't you afraid?

 Everyone dies, whether today or fifty years from now.

If I don't, you'll kill more men.

At night I see their faces. All the men I've killed. They're standing there on the far bank of the river Styx. They're waiting for me. They say, 'Welcome, brother'.

Last time you spoke to me like this, you were 10 years old and you'd just stolen Father's horse. What have you done now?

Do you love me, brother? Will you protect me from any enemy?

Well, then your men did. The sun god will have his vengeance.

His priests are dead, and his acolyte's a captive. i think your god is afraid of me.

Afraid? Apollo is master of the sun, he fears nothing.

I know more about the gods than your priests. I've seen them.

You're royalty, aren't you? Spent years talking down to men.

You must be royalty. What's your name? Even the servants of Apollo have names.

 What do you want here in Troy? You didn't come for the Spartan queen.

Why kill you now, Prince of Troy, with no-one here to see you fall?

You should not have come here tonight.

That's what you said last night?

Last night was a mistake.

I have made many mistakes this week.

Of all the kings of Greece, I respect you most. But in this war you're a servant. And I refuse to be a servant any longer.

Sometimes you need to serve in order to lead. I hope you understand that one day.

Prince Hector, is he as good a warrior as they say?

You come here uninvited. Go back to your ships and go home.

The sun was shining when your wife left you.

She's up there, watching, isn't she? Good. I want her to watch you die.

And I've seen the limits of your mercy and I tell you now, no son of Troy will ever submit to a foreign ruler.

Trojan soldiers died protecting you. Perhaps they deserve more than your pity.

Pearls from the sea of Propontus.

Am I still your captive?

I have heard rumors of your beauty. And for once, the gossip is right.

Soldiers of Troy! You men are warriors! To lead you has been my honor!

Hector fights for his country! Achilles fights only for himself!

You were brave to fight them. You have courage.

To fight back when I'm attacked? A dog has that kind of courage.

It's no insult to say a dead man is dead.

I can't ask anyone to fight for me. I'm no longer queen of Sparta.

You're a princess of Troy now. And my brother needs you tonight.

Menelaus was a brave man. He fought for honor. And every day I was with him, I wanted to walk into the sea and drown.

I almost lost this war because of your little romance.

I want to see him grow tall. I want to see all the girls chasing after him.

Well, of course you do, she's a beautiful woman.

Then I'll make it easy for him to find me. I'll walk right up to him and tell him you're mine.

May the gods keep the wolves in the fields and the women in our beds.

[goodnightmemes]

GLADIATOR (2000) SENTENCE STARTERS

❛ At my signal, unleash hell. ❜

❛ What we do in life echoes in eternity. ❜

❛ After two weeks on the road your incessant scheming is hurting my head. ❜  

❛ There is always someone left to fight. ❜

❛ The gods must have a sense of humor. ❜  

❛ A soldier has the advantage of being able to look his enemy in the eye. ❜

❛ Don't get too comfortable. I may call on you before long. ❜

❛ If only you had been born a man. What a Caesar you would have made. ❜  

❛ Let us pretend that you are a loving daughter and I, a good father. ❜  

❛ This is a pleasant fiction, isn’t it? ❜  

❛ I will not believe that they fought and died for nothing. ❜

❛ Will you accept this great honor that I have offered you? ❜

❛ With all my heart, no. ❜  

❛ You are the son that I should have had. ❜

❛ You are lying. I could always tell when you were lying because you were never good at it. ❜  

❛ Is it really so terrible seeing me again? ❜

❛ Sometimes I do what I want to do. The rest of the time I do what I have to. ❜

❛ I searched the faces of the gods for ways to please you, to make you proud. ❜  

❛ What is it in me you hate so much? ❜

❛ Your fault as a son is my failure as a father. ❜

❛ I would have butchered the whole world if you would have only loved me! ❜  

❛ Take my hand. I only offer it once. ❜

❛ At least give me a clean death - a soldier’s death. ❜  

❛ As your mother was there at your beginning, so I shall be there at your end. ❜

❛ Ultimately, we’re all dead men. ❜  

❛ As always, your lightest touch commands obedience. ❜

❛ Who are they to lecture me?  ❜

❛ It’s an idea, greatness. Greatness is a vision. ❜  

❛ I will give the people a vision and they will love me for it. ❜  

❛ Fear and wonder - a powerful combination. ❜

❛ He will give them death, and they will love him for it. ❜  

❛ ARE YOU NOT ENTERTAINED?! ❜  

❛ I am required to kill, so I kill. That is enough. ❜  

❛ I wasn’t the best because I killed quickly. I was the best because the crowd loved me. ❜  

❛ Win the crowd, win your freedom. ❜   

❛ Do you believe you'll see them again when you die? ❜

❛ You will meet them again. But not yet. Not yet. ❜  

❛ I didn't know men could build such things. ❜

❛ All my desires are splitting my head to pieces. ❜

❛ They said you were a giant. They said you can crush a man’s skull with one hand. ❜  

❛ Go, and die with honor. ❜  

❛ We who are about to die, salute you. ❜  

❛ If we stay together, we survive. ❜

❛ Why doesn’t the hero reveal himself and tell us all your real name? You do have a name? ❜  

❛ I will have my vengeance in this life or the next. ❜  

❛ He shouldn’t be alive. This vexes me. I am terribly vexed. ❜  

❛ If they lie to me, they don't respect me. If they don't respect me, how can they ever love me? ❜

❛ I wouldn’t want to be your enemy. ❜  

❛ I knew your brother would send assassins. I didn’t know he would send his best. ❜  

❛ I have been living in a prison of fear since that day. ❜  

❛ The gods have spared you. Don't you understand? ❜

❛ Today I saw a slave become more powerful than the Emperor of Rome. ❜  

❛ They oppose him, yet they do nothing. ❜  

❛ Forget you ever knew me. Never come here again. ❜  

❛ You have a great name. He must kill your name before he kills you. ❜  

❛ We mortals are but shadows and dust. ❜

❛ What am I going to do with you, you simply won’t die. ❜  

❛ Are we so different, you and I? You take life when you have to, as do I. ❜  

❛ I only have one life left to take and then it is done. ❜  

❛ The time for honoring yourself will soon be at an end. ❜

❛ I will not make a martyr of him. ❜  

❛ I hope my coming here today is enough evidence that you can trust me. ❜  

❛ Let my men see me alive and you shall see where their loyalties lie. ❜

❛ I will not trade one dictatorship for another! ❜

❛ Because that was the last wish of a dying man. ❜  

❛ Do you remember what it was to have trust? ❜

❛ It’s a dream, a frightful dream… life is. ❜  

❛ You risk too much. ❜  

❛ I have much to pay for. ❜  

❛ I am tired of being strong. ❜

❛ Was I very different then? ❜  

❛ I have felt alone all my life, except with you. ❜  

❛ Sometimes royal ladies behave very strangely and do very odd things in the name of love. ❜  

❛ He was betrayed, by those closest to him… by his own blood … they whispered in dark corners and went out late at night and conspired and conspired… ❜  

❛ Tell me what you have been doing, or I shall strike down those dearest to you. You shall watch as I bathe in their blood. ❜   

❛ Are you in danger of becoming a good man? ❜

❛ As for you, you will love me, as I have loved you. ❜  

❛ Am I not merciful? AM I NOT MERCIFUL? ❜  

❛ A striking story. Now the people want to know how the story ends. Only a famous death will do. ❜  

❛ I think you have been afraid all your life. ❜  

❛ Death smiles at us all. All a man can do is smile back. ❜  

❛ That makes us brothers, doesn’t it? Smile for me now brother. ❜  

❛ There was once a dream that was Rome, it shall be realized. ❜  

❛ Is Rome worth one good man’s life? We believed it once. Make us believe it again. ❜  

❛ I will see you again. But not yet, not yet… ❜

[aihoshiino]

chapter 159 thoughts!

Chapters Since The 143 Kiss Happened And Went Entirely Unacknowledged And Unaddressed Count: 16

Aqua Hoshigan Status: White

Surprise! As predicted by literally everyone in the fandom, the stab was a fakeout! To the shock of perhaps three people, no, one of the titular Kos of Oshi No fame was not, in fact, dying in an unceremonious cliffhanger stabbing - the only real question was exactly what sort of fakeout it was going to be. I did see quite a few folks suggest 'Akane in a wig and a stabproof vest' even in jest so congrats on calling it! Admittedly this is kind of silly but I would take 'silly' over the character assassination massacre that last chapter's apparent twist would've been any day of the week.

I guess if anything about this reveal surprised me it's that Kana wasn't involved at all…? Unless this is a double fakeout and something's going to happen at her graduation (which is not impossible for reasons we'll get into). Whereas all the buildup for Ruby (seemingly) getting stabbed basically only came in the same chapter it happened in, we've been getting some pretty heavy handed hints that something might happen to Kana for over 60 chapters now if my mental math is right - her parallels to not just Ai and Yura (i.e, our two on-screen victims), language associating her with the "type" we see targeted and that huge "Kana Arima will always protect Ruby Hoshino" red flag dropped by Gotanda, among other things. Kana is also the character who has the most actual direct parallels with Ai, where Ruby is defined mostly in how she differs from Ai… Or at least she does when the story makes sense lol. But I guess we'll see.

Either way, I personally have mixed feelings on Akane's involvement here, in this moment. On the one hand, I like what it represents about Aqua's development - the reason he and Akane broke up was over her 'endangering herself' but really it was because of Aqua's mortal terror over the people he loves being hurt in association with him. Letting Akane get involved here is an expression of growth and trust on his part and I do like that.

On the other… this is super Akane just being treated like a convenient device for the plot, as has happened to her before. It really feels like Akasaka has realized he made her way too competent as a character so he only busts her out to use as a blunt force tool to patch up his story. Hate that shit! Akane deserves better.

THAT SAID… Ichigo's involvement here is something I do straightforwardly like even if the execution isn't perfect. Now we're past the fakeout, I can say that my worst case scenario for The Stabbening was the "Aqua uses his 1337 surg30n ski11z to save the stabbing victim and make up for not saving Ai" because people have been predicting that Literally since volume 2 and I'm gonna be real with you, I've fucking hated it no matter the configuration of characters or events involved lol. It would, even if only subtextually, frame Aqua's self-loathing and suicidal ideation in relation to the incident as justified and that he somehow needs to 'redeem' himself for his failure of not stopping a grown man with a knife from stabbing his mother to death when he was literally four years old.

Ichigo, by contrast, actually is at least partially responsible for Ai's death. He is a literal agent of the system that abused and exploited her, he failed to support her properly as both her manager and her father and it's ultimately his commodification of Ai and B-Komachi as a whole that created the kind of fan attitude that gives birth to a person like Ryosuke. He's the person who actually needs to make up for failing Ai, so having him literally reenact that failing and getting able to do it right this time for the purposes of protecting Ai's beloved children is a direction for his character that I really like.

^_^ However! I do not feel anywhere near as positively about this retcon to Ryosuke and Nino's characters!!!!

like. come on, man. do i even need to explain why this is bad. even outside of how utterly transparent a retcon this is, these kinds of 'everyone is connected!!!' surprise twists are really not suited to a story like Oshi no Ko. They make the world of the story feel much smaller

In addition… it really feels like lately, Akasaka has this problem where he tries to make things more dramatic and complex by adding twists and reveals about Secret Additional Context like this to a character's behaviour but ends up just flattening them by way of making them more cartoonish as a result. Ironically, Nino and Ryosuke are both victims of this with this new retconned in connection and it cheapens not only their own arcs but their relationships with Ai (and how her own arc is informed by her relationship with them in turn) as a result. It's a cascade failure that wrenches everything else down along with it.

The other big reason this retcon frustrates me as much as it does is not just because it entirely shatters the logic of Ryosuke as a character but because one additional picrosecond of thought put into his could not only have prevented it, but even added to the story in some really meaningful and interesting ways. As other people are surely going to point out, this is an insane level of hypocrisy, so - lean into it! Make that hypocrisy explicit and textual!

Parasociality is already inherently illogical and the types of misogynistic hostile masculinity Ryosuke expresses towards Ai are already internally contradictory ideologies. Idol fan culture, too, is built on hypocrisy, especially in a gachikoi group like gen 1 B-Komachi. The girls are expected to roleplay as being romantically (and implicitly, sexually) available to their fans while also being pure and virginal to the point of farce. None of this shit makes sense! So leaning into that by explicitly acknowledging Ryosuke as a hypocrite and acknowledging these contradictory expectations could only have done the story well.

As it stands, this retcon just doesn't work. Like, look at the Ryosuke we see in those flashbacks - happy, healthy and functional enough to be close to at least two B-Komachi members. Are we really expected to believe that Ai rizzed him so hard she mindbroke him into being a Phantom of the Opera tier basement dwelling incel? Or are we supposed to believe Ryosuke was Like That simultaneously with him dating Nino? Literally no direction you come at this from makes any sense whatsoever lol

Ichigo supposedly knowing about them dating at the time also raises approximately one hundred billion questions. Primarily: DID NO ONE THINK TO TELL THE COPS AT THE TIME??? The guy who brutally murdered Ai in her own home just happened to be banging one of her coworkers who was known to have a bad relationship with her and this just… never came up?? Even though the news report on the incident explicitly says the police were investigating the possibility of an accomplice being involved?? AGAIN, NO MATTER HOW YOU APPROACH THIS TWIST IT JUST DOESN'T WORK…

I will say. For all my complaints, that final exchange between Akane and Nino, about how badly Ai and Nino ultimately just wanted to be regular friends… that really hit. It felt like a little flash of the messed up but deeply, achingly human Nino from 45510 I'd been missing so much every since she was turned into this weird caricature of herself. I'm still incredibly dissatisfied with the majority of her handling after the Movie Arc but if this is the note she gets to go out on, I'll take that W.

Concert time! Congrats to AkaMengo for creating a concert scene that annoyed me even more than the last one!

This is the sort of thing I mean when I talk about the ways in which the narrative has excessively favoured Ruby makes her come off as excessively self-centered in a way that is clearly not intentional. Not only does the story frame her as seemingly taking over the concert but she's also portrayed as the center every time she's on panel - even though that's Kana's position, that she only took in the first place because Ruby pressured her into it. This isn't something that happens by accident - in-universe, this can only have happened because the Strawberry Productions staff pushed Ruby into the center AT KANA'S GRADUATION CONCERT and instead of saying "hey, this is KANA'S GRADUATION CONCERT maybe she should be center", Ruby just went along with it. This is not my girl!!! This is not the Ruby of the First Concert arc!!!

No wonder there are in-universe fans getting pissed off. B-Komachi isn't even real and I'm getting pissed off. Like, can you imagine going to your favourite idol's graduation and her nepo baby coworker who's already constantly upstaging her is hogging the spotlight at her last ever idol performance? I would be physically incapable of not starting to throw rocks.

To make matters worse, the story is continuing to try and push what it flopped out last chapter of Ruby supposedly surpassing Ai as an idol. Like I said last chapter, I didn't buy it then and I extra don't buy it now!

Not only is the story still failing to do the work necessary to believably sell this, but the only way it seems to be able to try is to lean so heavily on Ai associated imagery that the whole thing is at risk of buckling under the weight - the double hoshigans, her outfit and even her popping Ai's iconic volume 1 pose. Not only does this feel generally unearned, it also falls flat as a moment where Ruby is supposed to be strutting her stuff as an idol because she is literally, explicitly, just imitating her mom.

Like… Remember when Aqua and Ruby had that big moment of Aqua telling Ruby not to try and be like Ai anymore and to get out of her shadow? Remember when Ruby and Kana had that heart to heart where Ruby said she'd be a star in her own way and she wouldn't be like Ai? How does that remotely cohere with the story relying so heavily on these callbacks? How am I supposed to believe Ruby has surpassed Ai and is shining in her own way when the seemingly only measure of success in this regard is how much she resembles Ai in the process of doing so?

Ruby has been catching strays left and right pretty much the entire time I've been doing these chapter reviews so let me be clear: I think this sucks because I think this sucks for Ruby. It completely undermines everything the story has previously set up regarding Ruby finding her own way of being an idol and it also cheapens the relationship she previously had with Ai's memory. Instead of the love and reverence she once had for her mother's legacy and efforts, now it feels like Ai has been used as a stepping stone to prop up Ruby's success story. The narrative is fighting for its fucking life to sell us on the idea that Ruby has surpassed Ai, but the execution is so ham-fisted that it ends up doing the opposite. By relying so heavily the imagery of Ai's radiance and her idolhood, it’s clear that the story doesn’t trust Ruby to stand on her own merits.

Like… fuck, man. Maybe this is a lot to read into four splash pages with no dialogue and maybe there's more to come from this concert - Kamiki is watching a live broadcast, after all, so the show is still ongoing. Maybe there'll be something in the concert to come that resolves some of my frustrations here. But this is all so consistent with the way the story has framed B-Komachi for almost 100 chapters now that it's hard for me to imagine it even recognizing that this is an issue, let alone taking the steps necessary to fix it.

And speaking of Hikaru………. man, what even is there to say about that ending lol

Much like last chapter, anything I could say about it necessarily relies on context and info we don't have yet. This is such an obviously deliberately provocative cliffhanger like last chapters that I don't see the point in trying to speculate too much about what it could all mean when Aka has historically gone hard on fakeouts. All I'll say is that like with last chapter's apparent twist, if the story is straightforwardly going to follow through on what is being presented right now with no additional twist, it will be much worse off for it.

At leas we'll find out next week whether or not that's the case. I ain't gonna lie I fully expected us to be on break again…

[lord-of-0blivion]

"How. Dare. You." Those three words resounded across the gathering of ghost with the force of a freight train and yet, the gentleness of a butterfly. The tone of said words quieted the crowd, but what truly brought everything to a grave like stillness was the emotion behind them. It was indescribable, it was oh, so... so much more then pure hate and, at the same time so much less then indifference.

"How dare you." They wrang out again. Followed by a "You finally piece it together and this is how you repay him?!"

"You plot and scheme against him as if he is not the sole reason why you even exist!" A tierd huff escaped the figure, now recognized as the master of time. "You wine and complain about the inaccuracies and errors in your history as if this is not how you have alaways been!" "Might I remind you that this all came from the mind of a DYING CHILD!" He gesture all around, to the infinite green void. "The fact that we have ANY correlation to the mortal world is a miracle and a testament."

"At the very moment of his death, Danny's mind recognized that, according to the laws of his world, his univers, he had no way to survive;" An intense glared was directed at the waste of ectoplasm gathered below him. "And, sensing his desire to Live, to not abandon the only three people who have shown him compassion, it does the only thing it can." A sigh escapes his lips "It creates a door, it makes a universe, a multiverse, infinite realities. It makes it out of all his hope, compassion, love and determination, sadness and despair... It gives birth to DEATH itself, just to beg it to keep him alive."

The crowd stills completely, as if suddenly turned to stone. "It is a testament to his willpower, knowledge and... his compassion." Another sigh rings out, filled with something between sorrow and and the burden given by knowledge. "Prior to his death, there... there were no afterlives, there was nothing awaiting but Oblivion, true death. And then he created all afterlifes, he created all of you."

A long pause soon followed, as if to allow Clockwork to catch his breath, but it was more to allow all the ghost beneath him to process the information.

And then he continued "In the very first moment of its birth, Death knew what it had to do... It took its very purpose and the very laws that should have binded it to said purpose and discarded them with no hesitation." Another pause. "Without a care for itself, and alongside Magic, who was born at the same time as the Realms, it set out to helps its father like any good child would do for a loving parent"

Not even allowing a word to escape the crowd, CW continues. "Would any of you even dare to THINK about striking your mothers or your fathers!?" Before they can even flinch Clockwork hammers the point in "Answers me this: Is there anyone among you who can say, with any amount of certainty, that Danny would even hesitate to... give up what little remains of his life, his existance! To save yours?"

Having made his point he turned his back to them. "Like any parent would do?" Not paying attention to the trembling and sobbing ghost, Clockwork, the master of time made to leave, but not before saying one last thing.

"From the highest peaks of Haven to the deepest VILEST pits of Hell, there exist no language in which I can express my disappointment and disgust in you. Have a good afterlife, and don't forget WHO you have to thank for it you vain children"

[This] post inspired this. @five-rivers Thanks.

[incomingalbatross]

Top 5 tropes, top 5 dog breeds, top 5 saints

Ooh, good questions! Thank you for the ask :)

tropes:

Happy endings emerging from the jaws of despair; eucatastrophe

When you have two guys who are friends but they like pretending to hate each other (I was a sucker for this at eleven when I saw Star Trek: TOS, and I have remained a sucker ever since)

Mortal-immortal friendships, in all their variations

Characters getting trapped in their nightmares and other characters having to save them

Anything with memory loss/wipes, especially if it's thoroughly explored

dog breeds:

Labradors are a classic kind of dog.

Cocker spaniels are very different but also classic, and I think they're cute.

Terriers! Is this partly because of Snowy from Tintin? yes.

Newfoundlands are BIG and FLUFFY and I appreciate this.

Beagles because the only dog I've taken care of long-term was a beagle. She IS loud and she IS an inveterate food thief but I love her anyway <3

Saints:

Mary, Mother of God. Of course she's at the top of the list. She's Our Lady.

Saint Joseph is equally clearly next! Most valiant, most humble, most obedient, guardian of virgins, protector of family life, model of laborers, patron of the dying... Chaste Guardian of the Virgin and Foster-Father of the Son of God.

St. Mary Magdalene - I don't know if I exactly have a special devotion to her, but I do love remembering her life. Model of penitents and one of the holiest and most beloved of Christ's followers. (I do also adhere to the belief that she is the same person as Mary sister of Lazarus; this is a long-standing tradition, and it makes sense to me.)

St. Alphonsus Liguouri - his month's worth of daily meditations for Adoration are beautiful and have made him familiar to me, even though I know very little about his life. (He also wrote a set of prayers/reflections for the Stations of the Cross that a lot of parishes use.)

St. Frances of Rome - my confirmation saint, a 14-century Roman noblewoman who was wife and mother over a large household, and founded a religious order for widows after her husband's death. Is the patron saint of automobile drivers, because an angel is said to have lighted the way for her when she went out on charitable works at night. I love how well she followed God while fulfilling her duties in the world.

Secret sixth spot (because Our Lady's spot is hardly information): Blessed Herman the Cripple, 11th-century Benedictine polymath who wrote Salve Regina, the Advent and Christmas Marian antiphon Alma Redemptoris Mater, and Veni Sancte Spiritus. If you ask me, that alone should qualify him for canonization, but I suppose his cause is waiting for more posthumous miracles.

[vaultofcobaltandjade]

Man, as controversial as it is, I love love love thinking about Ashton's anger/rage/disdain towards the gods. Mainly because, as anarchist punk as it comes off, it also reads so clearly to me as an orphan's anger.

The anger of "My parents abandoned me" (doesn't matter if it was voluntary or not, their fault or not), so

"Wtf gives you gods the right to call yourselves our Father and Mother, to call us your children? Wtf makes you think you can do better than the parents who abandoned me to die?"

and

"Wtf gives you the right to have that inherent power over us? Just the fact that you created us, like actual parents? Wtf gives you the right to punish us and lord over us for eternity and pick favorites out of your children to reward and spare while others suffer cruelty?"

and

"You abandoned us too. You never answered my or my friends' prayers growing up. You've barely helped my current group. You didn't save FCG, even when he begged for it in his final moments."

and

"Why tf should I trust you all? (My first source of trust and safety in this world was cruelly ripped away from me.) Wtf have you ever done to gain my trust or respect or loyalty or faith?"

and

"Why tf shouldn't I hate you all who claim to be my creators, when half of you already hate my very existence as a mortal and the other half likely hate me for embodying a remnant of your past enemy (the original people of this planet that you completely killed off after arriving here)? When you and your followers destroy anyone who might oppose you?"

and

"Why tf would I want to be 'adopted' into your family of faith, when all I've seen is how fucked up it is? When you would toss us 'children' away for your siblings in a second?"

and

"You know, I realized how much unnecessary, unconscious power I was giving my parents, even in their absence and abandonment, and I reclaimed that power and took responsibility for myself. So why tf do you all still get to hold that same power over me, power that's impossible to escape?"

I mean, if my very first memory was of my parents dying violently in front of me and then a priest of some untouchable deity came around to my orphanage with the message of "Feel the Mother's Embrace" or "Feel the Father's light," I might also be cynical and resentful of anyone claiming that they're my creator and will take care of me forever. As much as I also love, say, Percy's story of revenge and redemption and forgiveness over his family's deaths and Fjord's story of finding father figures and a divine Mother figure to make peace with, there's something so resonant for me about Ashton holding onto their rage over that first cruel tragedy, as misdirected (or not, we don't know if the gods could've intervened before or during the fatal ritual) that it may be. It's messy and ultimately unhealthy and not easy to hear or think about, but so is being orphaned.

Now, obviously, I see this as a case of "actions speak louder than words" here. Disregarding Ludinus and his whole BS, I seriously doubt Ashton would even try to carve their own independent path towards the gods' downfall or banishment unless there was a way of doing it without casualty. I'm sure he's very aware of the stakes and mortal lives that could be lost, and if not, he's got the Hells to remind him. But not taking action doesn't just magically erase the anger, and not talking about the anger to anyone just tends to make things worse.

[brionysea]

current bnb status? like how many chapters r done / close to being done and what are some scenes ur working on now ? :3

hi hello!!! i was about halfway through drafting part 3 (i don't want to say chapter - they're Lengthy parts, there would be about 5 chapter breaks within each part if i was doing chapters) before i got distracted by the realisation that I Can't Write Whump. how do people write whump? i came here for the emotions and the trauma processing and now i have to write a character getting physically pretzled? rude

anyway, as of right now the plan is... 7, 8 parts? somewhere around there. part 1 is about 95% done (i'll probably get on that last 5% next time i pick up writing bnb again - dustin is being The Brain Cell Friend and he will not wait long); part 2 is like, 50% done, but that's mostly because writing a character realising their own mortality within the context of a pre-determined scene from the show is difficult and feels repetitive and stale in contrast to being able to just Make Stuff Up; everything beyond that is pretty mentally laid out by now but it's a bit haphazardly existent, writing-wise, and it's certainly not edited. max gets a speech at the end that makes me cry though. i have to break from the perspective character (mike) (he's a bit busy Antagonising The Antagonist at the time) (he does that a lot, it's concerning. where are the survival instincts? is he not paying attention to the moral of the story? it's that running is okay, mike! that's how you survive in stranger things!!!) to pull that off but i don't even care, it's so worth it

as far as scenes that are currently In Focus in my brain:

there's the dustin thing i mentioned. mike gets to catch him up on the Mike (And El) Are Being Weird part of season 3 that he missed out on in real time via distraction by russian conspiracy theories, which is always fun because dustin tends to listen when mike talks and he's been pretty distinctly kept separate from any and all Mike Is Being Weird parts of the show for a long while. because he is too smart and would figure out that that's Important, actually. writing what (if anything) he would do about that is going to be fun, because i wasn't really thinking about him before but now that he's here he will not be ignored. dustin also takes the time to battle mike's anxiety with flawless logic and wins, because dustin is amazing. i really love dustin and the lack of dustin&mike interactions is criminal

the other part that's currently in rotation, which i haven't actually gotten around to writing yet because of the pretzling (i won't provide details or context, it helps with the immersion :)), is max and mike being friends. aka the point of this whole endeavour if i'm being honest. they can allow themselves to be suicidal, that's fine, but if their friend tries it? right in front of them? tries to die right in front of them where they can see??? what an idiot. what a stupid idiot who needs to be saved from their own idiocy right away. get hugged, idiot. don't die. (<- if i'm being even more honest, THAT'S the point. teen suicide allegories vs the power of friendship. get friendshipped, idiot) (is this mostly me being bitter over the optics of Suicidal Teen Max Mayfield dying seconds after she realised she wanted to Live, Actually? maybe so. i hate that trope, even if in this case it's temporary death that does actually work for the allegory. let traumatised characters recover)

one thing i've noticed is that i have this inclination to try and make the wheeler family better? ted is a bad father, that's easy to roll with, he sucks, but i think about nancy and my brain is like Make Her A Good Sister (especially when she's good at solving puzzles and mike is very much a puzzle right now, but that's the case in the show too and she still Doesn't Really Care), or i try to write karen and my brain is like Make Her A Good Mother, which... she's trying, at least, but it's. it's quite hard to find that balance of well-meaning and still-doing-damage. because i know they're not a good family to mike but apparently my subconscious disagrees with that on principle and thinks he deserves one, established characterisation and relationship dynamics be damned, and that's just !! it's annoying!!!! i'm trying to do an accurate character study here, which includes the Not Fantastic family dynamics!!!!!! wanting to give mike wheeler good things and accurately writing about mike wheeler's life are not easily compatible goals and it's very irritating

anyway. this last part will probably mean nothing (yet), but i keep being tempted to finish and publish the first part even knowing that that would kill my motivation to actually finish writing the rest of the story (don't ask, the demand-supply part of my brain is broken), just so that people can see the bedroom window scene. i am So Proud of the bedroom window scene it's unbelievable

[taruchinator]

🌸 Teen Audiences

🌸 1k Words

🌸 For the @noragamizines!

It was almost eerie how beautiful the sight that greeted him was.

Serene and secluded mountain terrains that were undoubtedly explored by many others before him, yet none would've imagined that they were strolling right past a corpse. A twisted joke was displayed in front of the blond with the appearance of tranquil flora, which surrounded something that didn't quite belong.

A broken refrigerator— Haruki's gravesite.

Hello everyone! Alice here! ^^

Another project I was helping cook up this year was the Noragami Finale Zine! I was assigned to write a story for the Ooharai Arc (aka where my boy Yukine just goes back to his rebel roots), and I'm honestly quite happy with how it turned out~

Noragami was the first series that truly got me into anime, and that's why it will always hold a special place in my heart!

“I believe our mother was intercepting the letters, and maybe even sending them back, too…” Yuka spoke barely above a whisper, her eyes never leaving the crinkly old envelopes that lay in the box in front of her.

Haruki could only stare in disbelief at the words that left his sister's mouth. Their mother couldn't have possibly done that, could she? During his entire childhood, the woman had been nothing but kind and supportive to them both, her only flaw ever being how forgiving she was of their father's actions. Yet the blond couldn't bring himself to blame her for leaving him with that monster, even if he wanted to.

But if what Yuka said was true, he didn't know what to feel anymore.

“Not even she wanted you. Nobody wanted you.” The voice in his head whispered those ugly words as it'd been doing so recently, but Haruki did his best to ignore them. They weren't true after all, since he knew for a fact that his sister loved him. Even if no one else did.

“I knew what he was doing to Haruki, yet I never mustered the courage to actually go see him.” His sister's voice wavered as silent tears began rolling down her cheeks. “I was worried he would hate me for abandoning him, so I never stopped apologizing in my letters, hoping that one day he'd come see me so we could work things out…”

“I did come!” The blond couldn't bear hearing her say these things. Lies that she fabricated in her mind out of guilt. “I could never hate you! I'm right here, Yuka!”

In that instant however, reality came crashing down on him when the young girl from his memories turned into an older woman, features still the same, but laced with the inevitable grip of mortality. Wrinkles appeared on her forehead as she forced a smile. “But he never did. That means Haruki's dead, isn't he?”

“You worthless brat… wanting to leave me too, huh? After all I've done for you!”

Hiyori placed a hand on top of Yuka's in a matter of reassurance, but at this point everything they were saying was white noise to Haruki's ears. His breathing became raggedy and agitated, despite the fact that his lungs didn't require any air. Not anymore.

“That bitch don't care about you! Nobody does! Why you think she took your sister instead o' you?!”

Images of his father began seeping into his mind uninvited, and it all immediately prompted him to leave the house and travel to another location that at some point his mind had started to forget. He didn't want to believe it—he really didn't—so he had to see it for himself. He wouldn't believe it otherwise.

It was almost eerie how beautiful the sight that greeted him was. Serene and secluded mountain terrains that were undoubtedly explored by many others before him, yet none would've imagined that they were strolling right past a corpse. A twisted joke was displayed in front of the blond with the appearance of tranquil flora, which surrounded something that didn't quite belong: A broken refrigerator.

Haruki's gravesite.

“You dying ain't my fault. It's divine punishment…”

Shivers ran up his spine as his knees gave up on him, causing him to collapse as he stared at the open makeshift casket. The place he took his final breath as he kept begging for an explanation, for mercy, for anything. But the eyes that looked down on him held nothing but pure unadulterated hatred.

“See ya, Haruki.”

“I'm dead…” Haruki's voice quivered with silent tears staining his clothes. Memories flooded back in a rush, and it was all too overwhelming as he gripped at the grass below his feet. “I-I'm actually dead. I don't belong anywhere—”

Suddenly something bumped against his palm from the inside of his pocket, slightly bringing him out of his dismay. After searching into his coat, the blond was surprised by what he'd discovered, eyeing it with curiosity. The wooden omamori was rough against his fingers since it was most definitely carved by hand, and the discarded yet familiar name written on it brought a warmth to his nonexistent beating heart.

Haruki had received it from Yato a long time ago—a memory from a life that didn't seem his own despite having become a Blessed Vessel in order to protect it. The feelings of jealousy and rage that consumed him back then seemed inconsequential now, while holding a physical reminder of the people he'd left behind in search of his truth.

Haruki had simply thrown them all away.

“How will they ever forgive me?” The reality of the situation was beginning to dawn on him as if he didn't have enough to deal with already. His betrayal, joining forces with Father, fighting those he swore he'd protect with everything he had. “Dad was right… nobody could ever love someone like me…”

“Yukine!”

The voice calling out eventually reached him, making Haruki realize that at some point his physical form left the battlefield to come to this place. Tentative steps could be heard rustling the grass, but the blond didn't have to look up to know who it was.

“Yukine… Are you okay?” It was a silly question, but laced with so much worry that Haruki couldn't help but lift his gaze to look into those familiar blue orbs. They held nothing but concern, which was the straw that broke the camel's back.

Yukine launched himself into the man's arms, sobbing and burying his nose into the scent of sweat that he missed so much. His entire body was shaking. “I-I'm sorry… I'm so sorry!”

Yato held him close with tears of his own flowing onto the blond's cheek. “It's okay Yukine… It's all going to be okay.”

Yukine didn't know what the future held. Fate was messy, convoluted and not always fair. But there was one thing he knew for certain—he'd never have to go at it alone.

Never again.

✦ 𝐂𝐡𝐞𝐜𝐤 𝐌𝐲 𝐂𝐚𝐫𝐫𝐝 𝐓𝐨 𝐅𝐨𝐥𝐥𝐨𝐰 𝐌𝐲 𝐒𝐨𝐜𝐢𝐚𝐥𝐬! ✦

[sorrowful-hyacinth]

Pleasure in Pain #9

[ Previous / Next ]

I’m still alive, just procrastinating on everything in my life.

Contents: On the run, Failed escape attempt, Begging, Fear of the sun, Threatened.

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“You’re in for a world of hurt kid!” Rojan was seething with rage. 

Cordova took a step forward, Rojan was on guard, that was until the vampire pushed all of his weight back onto the door. Cordova plummeted to the ground as the door cracked beneath him. He groaned from the impact but quickly recovered and got back on his feet before Rojan had the chance to grab him. As the vampire began to run Rojan snarled at the act of defiance... but he didn’t move, he didn’t chase after the vampire. Cordova was rightfully confused when he glanced back to see Rojan standing in the doorway, but he didn’t stop running, he didn’t stop for a long time.

It was early in the night, and Cordova covered a lot of ground. He hated to admit it, but he was lost in the woods. How far am I from home? He might’ve not been in any mortal danger, but it still wasn’t a good situation to be stuck in with his weakened state. He always remembered his parents telling him that if he followed the direction of Orion’s belt then he would always be led back home. His eyes scanned the starry night and identified the constellation with ease. 

/Time/

He felt as though he had been running for miles on end, no notable progress with the endless trees. Where the hell did these humans take me? How far away is home? If his father could hear his thoughts right now, he would be called immature, weak... is this what being homesick feels like? 

/Time/

Cordova ran for the entire night, still nowhere near home or even civilization. The sky’s color gradient shifting from a dark blue to a soft orange and pink hue. While he was running, he made sure to stay aware of possible shelter options, he new that a mile back from where he came there was a cave that he could rest in for the day. He ran back to that suspiciously carved out cave in the hill side. He couldn’t exactly be picky about his options. He sat down on the damp, cold ground of the stone cave. He finally takes a breath for himself and leans back against the rigid wall. What a day... couple of days I guess. Shivers travel through his body at the mere thought of what he had to endure. His father always told him to never trust a human, they are only blood bags. They catch you and the first thing they want to do to you is torture and rip you to shreds. Yet, he couldn’t help but hear his mothers voice echoing in his head to not hold hatred towards all humans... that wasn’t fair considering she was human herself. Cordova shook his head and tried to distract himself. He looked around the cave and noticed how moist the walls and the ceiling was, like it was dripping a continuous fluid that wasn’t exactly water. He couldn’t bother to care about his new environment when a wave of exhaustion hit him and he couldn’t help but let his eyes rest and his body go limp. 

/Time/

Cordova woke with a start as his ears picked up the faint sound of a vehicle barging through the forest. He quickly jumped onto his feet, his adrenaline started to skyrocket at the thought of humans finding him trapped in this cave during the day. Unfortunately for him, the cave was shallow and didn’t provide hiding spots so he resorted to pressing his back against the wall. The heavy, clunky, getting closer rapidly. It stopped just outside of the cave. All too familiar thick combat boots crushed the dying leaves that lead to the cave. Cordova’s heart skipped when he saw that man’s face… Rojan.

Rojan clapped his hands as he entered the cave and stepped towards Cordova. The vampire stepped off the cave wall and took a couple steps back deeper into the cave.

“Well well, good job Cordova, you made it all the way here in one night.”

Rojan kept walking towards the nervous vampire. Corodva synched his steps with the man in front of him until his back flushed with the cave wall. Rojan took a large step forward and blocked anyway for the vampire to escape.

“What’s wrong? Cat got your tongue?”

Corodva could feel his hands shake as he clenched them. Was it from anger, fear, anticipation? He stared at Rojans pure silver eyes. “H-how did you find m-me?”

Rojan laughed softly finding the question amusing. “Oh Cordova, I knew you were young but seriously? Did you never consider the possibility of me putting a tracker in you?”

Cordova’s eyes widened slightly at the implication that he had something foreign in his body. Obviously no scars were present to indicate that such a thing and been done, and it was hard for him to even grasp the thought. He carefully looked down at his body, examining himself as if it would explain anything.

“Tch Tch Tch, poor Corodva. Do you remember the last thing I said to you?”

The shaken vampire looked up with an anxious expression as he recalled the last encounter he had with the human. He tried to push himself impossibly further against the cave wall. Rojan leaned forward slightly, not providing Corodva with any personal space. He whispered in a sadistic manner.

“You’re in for a world of hurt kid.”

The vampire very noticeably sunk further down, as if trying to make himself smaller. His breathing hitched as his heart worked overtime from the lack of oxygen being supplied. As much as he wanted to run, to kick Rojan back and sprint into the trees… the radiating heat held no comfort for him. He considered possibly hurting Rojan, if he got all his strength and managed to pin him to the ground he could kill him… but he had never killed a person before, he wasn’t sure if he would even be willing to.

Rojan carefully grabbed the vampires arm and began to pull him as he made his way to the front of the cave. Corodva didn’t fight at first, paralyzed by his thoughts as if he was in a trance. That was until he was snapped back to his distressing situation when the sun inched closer, second by second. Cordova dug his heel into the ground and pulled back on Rojans iron grip. His heart pounding and a cold sweat evaporating in the heat. Rojan turned to the vampire with a look of disappointment that was shown with a menacing glare.

“I swear to god if you don’t come with me right now Cordova, I’ll carve you open and expose your organs to the sun. Do you want that?” His voice was stern and course.

The vampires eyes widened at the grotesque description. His fear was still overpowering his body and all he could think about was the pain he would experience right now, and not the pain in the foreseeable future. He shook his head frantically while still holding his ground. “R-Rojan… I-I r-really don’t want t-to go in the s-sun.”

Rojan glared intensely as the shivering vampire. “Do you think I give a shit if I walk you through this sun? I’ll drag you by the car and let the sun burn you to a crisp all the way back if I want to.”

Corodva pulled harder against the humans grip. For a human, his grip was unnaturally strong, maybe Cordova was just too out of focus to really break free, but either way he knew Rojan wouldn’t let go. The vampire had a pleading expression plastered on his face. “P-please Rojan, I-I p-promise to go back… I-I won’t resist, just please… I don’t want to get burned.”

Rojan unexpectedly pulled against Cordova, making him loose his footing and stumble forward. Rojan was now in full view of the sun, his skin reflecting the brightness. Cordova’s hand was mere inches away from the suns grasp, he couldn’t take it anymore. “PLEASE!” The terrified vampire shut his eyes bracing himself for the scorching pain… but it didn’t come. After a couple seconds he opened his eyes cautiously and saw that Rojans hand was no longer holding his arm hostage. He quickly pulled his arm back to his chest protectively.

Rojan sighed and kept his gaze sharp and calm. “Will you really come back that easily?”

Cordova quickly nodded his head a couple times praying that the human would believe him. He could hear Rojan sigh again as he turned around and walked back to his car. He got in and casually drove half way into the cave forcing Corodva to back up immensely. The vampire saw a hand gesture him to go into the vehicle. He carefully walked to the passenger seat and sat in the leather chair. The first thing on Cordova’s mind was that the windows weren’t tinted enough. The sun visor was too small. He pushed the seat back before pushing himself down into a small ball under the glove compartment, hoping it would be enough coverage. Rojan noticed the vampires attempts at avoiding the sun and as upset as he was with him he couldn’t help but chuckle from how amusing it looked. He put the car in reverse and pulled out of the cave, facing towards the direction back home. Hell.

It was a long, silent drive back.

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Date: August 15, 2023

Taglist: @turn-the-tables-on-them

[ Previous / Next ]

[toxic-mothers-tourney]

Hi! I submitted Thetis from The Song of Achilles (TSOA). She is So Awful I thought I'd share some evidence. Tw for sexual assault.

Thetis kidnaps her son (Achilles) to trap him on an island, separating him from his father and his partner (Patroclus, the narrator). When Patroclus finds the island, it's revealed that Achilles has married a princess who is pregnant with his child (Pyrrhus). Achilles and Patroclus have this conversation:

"Please, wait. Please, let me explain. I did not want to do it. My mother—” He was breathless, almost panting. I had never seen him so upset. “She led the girl to my room. She made me. I did not want to. My mother said—she said—” He was stumbling over his words. “She said that if I did as she said, she would tell you where I was.”

... “You did it for nothing.”

“What do you mean?”

“Your mother did not tell me where you were. It was [your father].”

His face had gone pale, bled dry. “She did not tell you?”

"No. Did you truly expect she would?”

“Yes,” he whispered.

TSOA, Chapter 12

In the excerpt below, Patroclus has died in the Trojan war and observes as a ghost. Achilles returns from another day of killing Trojans in a grief-driven murder spree. Thetis warns him that the god Apollo will punish him if he doesn't stop:

“Achilles.” She strides to him, seizes his chin. “Listen to me. You go too far in this. I will not be able to protect you from [Apollo].”

He jerks his head from her and bares his teeth. “I do not need you to.”

Her skin is whiter than I have ever seen it. “Do not be a fool. It is only my power that—”

“What does it matter?” He cuts her off, snarling. “[Patroclus] is dead. Can your power bring him back?”

“No,” she says. “Nothing can.”

He stands. “Do you think I cannot see your rejoicing? I know how you hated him. You have always hated him! If you had not gone to Zeus, he would be alive!”

“He is a mortal,” she says. “And mortals die.”

“I am a mortal!” he screams. “What good is godhead, if it cannot do this? What good are you?”

“I know you are mortal,” she says. She places each cold word as a tile in a mosaic. “I know it better than anyone. I left you too long on Pelion. It has ruined you.” She gestures, a flick, at his torn clothing, his tear-stained face. “This is not my son.”

His chest heaves. “Then who is it, Mother? Am I not famous enough? I killed Hector. And who else? Send them before me. I will kill them all!”

Her face twists. “You act like a child. At twelve Pyrrhus is more of a man than you...He will come, and Troy will fall...He is the next Aristos Achaion [best Greek warrior].”

“I am not dead yet.”

“You may as well be.” The words are a lash. “Do you know what I have borne to make you great? And now you would destroy it for this?” She points at my festering body, her face tight with disgust. “I am done. There is no more I can do to save you.” Her black eyes seem to contract, like dying stars. “I am glad that he is dead,” she says. It is the last thing she will ever say to him.

TSOA, Chapter 31

Thetis' whole plan was to make Achilles into a god. If his fame was great enough, he'd become immortal. As a goddess, she will never enter the afterlife, so making her son immortal was the only way for her to avoid losing him.

Thetis did not plan to have Achilles; she became pregnant when Achilles' father sexually assaulted her. As a goddess, Thetis is different from humans both physically and culturally. Gods are more unemotional and cold, and Thetis shows a consistent distaste for mortals. Achilles sees himself as mortal, and it hurts him to see her reject all the Earthly things that contribute to his personhood.

Only after she loses Achilles to the afterlife does Thetis come to accept his mortal side. She listens to Patroclus' ghost tell her stories about Achilles. Eventually, she makes it so Patroclus' ghost is no longer trapped on Earth, and he and Achilles reunite in the afterlife.

Thetis is very complex. I think the book puts effort into showing the trauma Achilles endures under his mother & how it shapes him. At the same time, the books lets us know that having a mortal son was thrust on Thetis against her will. In the end, after repeatedly sacrificing Achilles' happiness in the name of keeping him alive, Thetis gives up the comfort of Patroclus' stories to make Achilles happy. A very notable, toxic, complicated fictional mom.

^^^

[stinkek]

I can't live without family yet but it can also be a pain at times

I feel bad that I keep venting to my besties about my family situation, it's not like there's anything they (or anyone I don't know IRL) can do to help, and they have their own issues to deal with, in objective comparison harsher than mine. So I'm throwing it out here.

It's both sad and hilarious that people expected me to make my own family when I grow up... but today I can't properly deal with my grandmother who's degraded both physically and mentally (I could write an essay on everything wrong with her but I won't do it) and doesn't know what time it is, so she ruins the rest of the family's sleep. I don't have a job, my father does, he's the one who needs sleep the most and the family pretty much holds on him. If I can't handle a disabled adult, how could I ever be a mother? At least people stopped bringing that up many years ago...

Why does my father automatically assume I'll know what to say to her or that I'll actually do as he says, then gets stern when I fail? I hold grudges for a little while but I don't hate anyone in my family, but I still think he could go easier on me. If he thinks he knows better then why won't he just communicate with her himself - because she's not his blood? I may be just overly sensitive, but what have I done to deserve this? Actually, no, let's be realistic: we want to believe in karma, but life doesn't work like that, otherwise we wouldn't have innocent people dying before old age and criminals coming back to freedom just to continue harming others.

I don't know how somebody like my grandmother could still have a will to live, when they can't live on their own and struggle even with basic physical needs. My grandfather, her husband, died in a hospital and I wasn't there, I fear that in this case I'll have to see death with my own eyes oneday, I know we're all mortal but simply knowing something doesn't prepare me mentally.

[cherrybomboyfriend]

a man with a hammer sees everything as a nail. a tarantula doused in poison sees life as a box of chocolates

may 15, 2024.

it’s been a few days since my last letter; i have no clue what to call these rants except for what they are? letters to an abyss of bystanding entities. it makes me so sad that one day all of you will die. this exact fact is the thing that keeps me up every night and tickles tears out of my eyes all the time. i’m tormented and tortured by fatality. one day my mother will die. one day my uncles will die. one day my friends will die. one day my little cousins will die. one day i’ll die. i’ll be forgotten like 50’s actresses that got booked for a single role then never appeared in anything ever again. mortality has been familiar with me since i was a child. one of my earliest (yet funnest?) memories was attending two funerals in one day. the first funeral was for an aunt on my grandmother’s side, and the second was for a cousin on my grandfather’s side. i remember looking at all of the solemn faces as a 7 year old and simply enjoying the fact that all of my family members were hanging out together, understanding that someone has lost their life and will never come back yet not being phased by it. the first funeral i’ve cried at was my father’s. i’m pretty sure i spent that entire day crying. i was 12 when i woke up in the middle of the night to police standing outside of my bedroom door. i peaked through the crack to see so much commotion in the hallway, not knowing what to do or what to think. hours passed before my mother crept my door open with a weak voice telling me that she’d be leaving me in the house alone to go with my father to the hospital. years later she told me that she already knew he was dead based on a feeling in her stomach. that was the first time in my entire life that i had felt such deep and guttural emptiness. i realized that humans weren’t rubber bands that relied on their elasticity to keep their pacemakers on. i realized that i could die at 12 years old.

these thoughts haunted me well into my teenage years, with those years rounding off with my grandmother’s death. she was a stubborn old woman who didn’t want to see any doctors and yelled at anyone who offered her help. i knew that her time was coming close to running over well before she passed, which haunted me. logistically it made sense, but spiritually? it drove me mad. sometimes i manage to convince myself that i can predict people’s deaths in manic delusional states. sometimes i get “an itch”, then start sobbing thinking about how one of my friends is probably dying as i wipe tears from my eyes. i’m haunted by my own intuition and i question it every day. i question if i can control time and death. i question if life is even worth living if im gonna spend every minute of it waiting for the day that the birds chirp in slow motion and my breath hitches at an uncontrollable rate. i’m terrified.

i hate how much these thoughts control me. i would take any pill that allows me to not think about the concept of death for at least one day. at least one hour. at least one minute. why doesn’t anyone else feel the same way i do? people plan their future without any anxiety and i don’t understand it. why are you planning a cruise for 2 years from now when you could possibly crash in your car on the way there? why are you planning on attending undergrad school when you could get shot tomorrow? why are you beginning things that could abruptly end? why are we living just to die? what am i supposed to do with these thoughts? put them inside of my purse and eat them as snacks whenever the government decides that im too old for assistance? do i spit these words into a bottle douce them in alcohol then chug them back inside until i get poisoning and see the light? what do i do with the amount of thoughts that haunt me every night?

i can’t do anything. it’s the most freeing and dismal thing ive had to realize. i still don’t think i realize it because i cry at any thought of an end-of-the-world situation. i can’t do anything and i can’t escape. if there were a way to make people immortal scientists would’ve done it by now. i just have to accept my fate. these thoughts make me feel like a prisoner on death row screaming and pleading for the electric shock to implode on itself as soon as it reaches an inch away from my forehead. i don’t know what to do. i don’t know how to prevent it from making me sad every day. i want out, but i can’t get out. i don’t know how to end this letter. i just want things to get better. i want to come to terms with these thoughts instead of pushing them away. i want to be the average joe. i don’t want mortality to run my life like a big soccer game. i watch the shot clock as i hyperventilate from my bed. i don’t want to go to sleep anymore.

okay well… if there’s one positive note that i can clench onto as a send off it’s that i’m glad that we’ve invented chocolate. it’s the best creation ever. sweet treats. if humans weren’t here then there’d be no chocolate. or at least any as good as the bars i get from the grocery store. i love those. and nutella. and chocolate wafers. i’d die for one of those. i’m happy again. goodnight. sweet dreams my little mortals. we’re all gonna be alright.

[alinacapellabooks]

Thanks for the tag! Strap in, everybody, because we’ll be going on a tour that’ll take you to the Underworld! That’s right, you get an exclusive sneak peek of where you’ll be going when you’re dead!

Hades: I don’t usually allow the living in the Underworld, but I’m willing to make an exception just this once.

Anargyros: But before that, let’s start with a tour of some of our favorite locations in the living world!

Solana: This is Winchester Cathedral. It’s our city’s most famous historical landmark, and also the place where our annual Christmas markets are hosted. Trust me, you haven’t lived until you’ve been to a Winchester Christmas market. I want a bratwurst stuffed with melted cheese right about now…

Ariel: It’s also the perfect place to have a big dramatic fight with your mortal enemy…Or to declare your love for someone and have a big damn kiss moment with them…

Solana: Yeah, that too. Or at least, that’s what we did, right, babe? Ariel: Yeah…

Solana: Next stop on our journey is Abbey Gardens, a gorgeous park surrounding a fifteenth century house. It’s a nice place to walk your dog, or have a picnic.

Ariel: Or kill your rapist’s mother who helped him get away with his crime.

Solana: Yeah that too…

Anargyros: Can we show them Elysium next?

Hades: Fine, but not all of it. If I showed everyone the entirety of Elysium, the journey would take years…

Anargyros: Anyway, this is Elysium, an archipelago where exceptional souls are sent when they die. By this, I mean souls who were exceptionally good people when they were alive, or souls who gained the favor of the gods. Anything you want can be yours down here.

Solana: What about discontinued snacks?

Hades: Why is that always the first thing souls ask us when they’re sent to Elysium? Do you humans not have anything but discontinued food on your minds?

Solana: So do you have discontinued snacks in Elysium?

Hades: …Yes.

Thanatos: I love coming down here to get Orbitz soda! I don’t know why you humans discontinued it, it’s really good!

Hades: Thanatos? What are you doing here? You’re not supposed to meet Ariel and Solana until the second book!

Thanatos: I’m just taking a break.

Ariel: You’re the god of dying. Don’t you have souls to harvest on Earth?

Thanatos: Not right now. Only a couple million people have been scheduled to die today. I’m not usually very busy on weekdays.

Hades: Anyway, the last stop on our journey is Tartarus, which is where you humans who have personally offended the gods in some way go. Here you’ll find many mythological figures, such as Tantalus and Sisyphus, and you’ll also find some more recently deceased sinners down here. Some of you might be wondering, what did the guy in the Supreme cap do? He was a serial stalker and rapist, and two of his victims happened to be champions of the titans. I haven’t decided on a punishment for him yet, but right now I’m leaning towards having fire ants eat his nether regions every day for the next century.

Thanatos: Maybe we could ask Zeus for some ideas! His punishments are pretty creative!

Hades: I’d rather not contact my brother if I can help it, Thanatos. There’s a reason why it’s been five centuries since we last spoke…

Anargyros: Yeah, and I don’t think Phoebe would approve of us talking to him either. We really need her on our side right now, and she hates his guts.

Solana: Oh yeah? Why’s that?

Hades: He got one of her daughters pregnant, and then when he tried to get with her other daughter, she refused him, but he wouldn’t take no for an answer, so she turned herself into an island to get him to leave her alone.

Ariel: Yikes: He sounds just like Brooklyn.

Hades: He is. Sometimes I wish I could throw him into Tartarus along with my father…

Anargyros: Even gods have daddy issues! And big brother issues…

Hades: Alright, let’s wrap this up and take everyone back to the living world.

Leaving this tag open! Don’t be shy, come and say hi!

✨⛵️Story/WIP Tour Tag ⛵️✨

Oh, what a fun concept! Thank you for tagging me, @theink-stainedfolk !!

I’m not sure I can convince you about the lovely landmarks in Peter Hart , but— there’s a rope around me. Oh. We don’t have a choice in this adventure, do we?

Peter: Clever. You catch on quick~!

Ahoy, mates. Captain Hart at the helm now. I’ll be your tour guide for the voyage. Please keep your arms on the deck at all times. Do not lean on the railing; if you go overboard we’re not coming to fish you out….unless you’re Benjamin.

Benjamin: HEY!! 😡

Right, let’s get started:

✨🇬🇧Port Mayor🇬🇧✨

On your left, you will notice we are passing by Port Mayor, Great Britain. A lovely fishing port run by an absolute bastard of a person. Make sure on your stop you steal a hearty handful from the Royal’s pockets, and try their regional specialty: Port Plum Pudding. Great for the season.

🌋Isle of Talon Rock🌋

Oh, this one’s a lovely sightseeing adventure! Talon Rock is an inactive volcano in the center of thick jungle. Do watch your feet for snakes; they are quite venomous here. The igneous walls of the lava tubes are home to a variety of rich gems, but make sure you vacate before high tide if you don’t want to get your clothes wet.

✨🇬🇧Portsmouth🇬🇧✨

We arrive at another port. Excellent tailor at this location; this is where I picked out most of Benjamin’s fashion.

Benjamin: I didn’t ASK for—

—You’re welcome. If you get a chance, make sure to piss in the rose garden of the sovereign that governs this port.

✨🪨Echoing Cove🪨✨

This one looks deceptive at first glance, but a trove of valuables rests deep enough inside the many underwater cave systems. You’ll have to do a little spelunking, but if you reach deep enough the treasures are ripe for the taking~

Benjamin: Peter…why do I hear voices?

—AAAAAAAND we are getting the fuck out of here~🏴‍☠️✨

✨🇬🇧Port Florence🇬🇧✨

Aye, Florence. Another posh port with a castle loaded in riches. A very prosperous port town with a king that is all too eager to throw lavish parties and get drunk off of centuries aged wine.

Benjamin: You’re one to talk, captain…

They hold a Regal Ball every year, with a dance competition. The winners take home 50 grand. Ah, a great memory indeed~

Benji: (blushing furiously)

😏

☠️🩸Bloodwater Bay🩸☠️

….Oh shite. This place. Right, well…..some more dense jungle, a thin strip of beach, the waters are red, but don’t be too alarmed…Davey tells us that’s the iron deposits that give more of that rusty hue. There’s a tall waterfall in the center……

Benjamin: …..Peter? Peeeeeeeter?

O-Oh! Well, moving right along…don’t want to linger in this wretched bay….

✨🇮🇪Gregory’s Point🇮🇪✨

Another lovely island between the mainland and Ireland. This is a developed hotspot, turned into a small port town where all are welcome. Pirates, naval officers, merchants, the like. Between the two main countries, this place has its own governance. So, you better have a good reputation if you don’t want to be murdered in your sleep ✨

Benjamin: you say that so nonchalantly, Captain

Mmmmhm. Also home to one of the best doctors this side of the equator. So, if you get wounded, make sure it happens close to Gregory’s Point.

✨🐋Giverny Gulch🐋✨

Another island made of basalt, home to a naval shipwreck. Do watch your step for broken glass, sharp rocks, reanimated corpses—

Benjamin: —I beg your pardon?

—fish and shark carcasses….oh right. Lots of sharks. Be careful of those.

Benjamin: ….Do I hear a whale?

✨🇫🇷Lorraine🇫🇷✨

We’re arriving near France! Jacques: lead us in the singing of the French National Anthem

Jacques: Oui, oui, Capitaine~! ✨

✨🎵 Allons enfant de la patrie,

Le jour de gloire est arrivé! 🎵✨

Benjamin: 😑

✨🎵….Contre nous de la tyrannie,

L'étendard sanglant est levé

L'étendard sanglant est levé

Entendez-vous dans les campagnes

Mugir ces féroces soldats?

Ils viennent jusque dans vos bras

Égorger vos fils et vos compagnes!

Aux armes, citoyens! (Formez)

Vos bataillons!

Marchons! Oui, marchons!

Qu'un sang impur

Abreuve nos sillons! 🎵✨

🏔️Arctic Archipelago🏔️

……

Benjamin: …..Peter?

…..Let’s be off…..I wish not to be here too long.

✨🏝️The Caribbean🏝️✨

Ah, much better~! A nice, warm climate. Benji, love, remind me to acquire a bottle of Ron de Barbados 🇧🇧✨

Benjamin: Trust me, Captain; you won’t forget.

We’ve reached our final stop, but we have a whole tied-up tour group of witnesses. Mmmm…Right, I got it! Men, start hauling them over the rail—

Benjamin: —PETER!!

I’m joooooking~. Start untying them and drop ‘em off at the next port. Thank you for….“choosing”….The Golden Phoenix as your cruise. I’ve been your captain, and have a magnificent stay in Barbados. Jones knows I will~

Benjamin: P-PETER!! 😣

Leaving this open because man I had a lot of fun here ✨

✨👇Tag list for writing snippets below DM me if you want to be added 👇✨

Tag List for writing tidbits (lmk if you want + or -)

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[fantastic-worlds]

A story about Goblins - Part 1

A note on goblins: I get very defensive of goblins, for so long on fantasy they have been a one dimensional portrayal of bigotry, uninspired and uninteresting evil and unmotivated chaos. There is such potential in goblins, even when you look at these tropes. I have been GMing at D&D tables for as long as I can remember and I hate to use the crutch of goblins as an easy low level enemy. I have written many types of goblins over the years, some are noble and take on the traits of the other "good" fantasy races and cultures we see taking the heroic roles in tales but the best are the goblins who lean into their perceptions and are much deeper and more interesting than those surface ideas could ever be. This is a story about Goblins, namely of a person who meets goblins and comes to learn about them and their intensely different and incompatible culture. I hope to touch up on the idea that not everything or everyone has to fit into the same systems, it can be ok for things to be different and live separately from each other, but also help one and other. Anyway, that's enough chatting round the issue of the story. Please enjoy this work in progress:

Content Warning: Discussions of mental illness, death, harm, mountain climbing and bereavement.

Chapter 1: A fall.

Mountains are not safe places to scatter the ashes of a loved one. My sister, mad as she had been in life, was just as mad in death. Her final wish of me being that I take her to the top of the Crag's Tooth and scatter her into those chaotic winds so she could fly with the hunter birds she had carved in life. Her laugh, raw and unfiltered screamed through the rough and bristled trees that hugged the steep cliffs of the mountain as I walked. I knew she would find it hilarious, her bookkeeper sister walking climbs that veteran hunters bawked at and so though it was harsh and frightening I tried to feel comfort in her invoked laughter. The trees clung for their lives in the oasiss of clumped soil as rushing tides of unrelenting wind but into them, how they kept their needles I do not know but the few that had come loose and struck me had been as solid and as sharp as daggers loosed by a circus performer. I had taken to covering my face with the, with the benefit of hindsight, much too thin scarf I had brought. My cloak and it's hood were more an impediment than a boon and so had been sequestered in my pack, so all that stood between me and the elemental onslaught was leather and cotton.

It was not customary for a body burnt to be scattered, my people preferred to be entombed within clay jars and held in the earth; Charise had been all but customary in her life and so she was in death. While it meant she would not be with our mother and father, or with me when I passed, it was her wish and as much as I had suffered at her hand, she had not wished that upon me and I think it was the pain in my eyes that had led her to tear herself from the mortal plane. Perhaps this climb was an atonement, an act of a guilty heart all too aware that it had not extended all the love it could to kin, whose hearth had become cold and unwelcoming to those it called home.

An outcrop of stone acted as a reprieve from the unending scream of the wind so I ducked into it and removed some hard tack from my pack, the pack resting on my front and bringing welcome and uncomfortably moist warmth from my back into my chilled chest. The laughs, the screaming and hacking laughs devoid of mirth and filled with such sadness that they descended into fits of intense and harrowing crying more often than not were what filled my memories of Charise now, they had come so much closer together towards the end and I could not predict them. Sometimes I would try to rouse some amusement in her with a funny story and be rewarded with hours of her screaming as if dying in my arms; just as often though she would simply see something from the window like a squirrel in the trees and that would be as much a cause to fall into the pit of joyless laughter and crying. Charise had been one of the most incredible and creative people I had known, so full of beauty and heartfelt love and awe for the world. She would carve, paint, sing and dance her way through the world and most everyone in the town had loved her in return. I do not know the cause of her change, but one day the eccentricity tipped over into madness, she began to lash out and hurt others with her words and pull them into spiralling, intense relationships that were so intimate and so short that many of her partners from that time remain unwed even now. I do not think she was cruel, I do not even think as Hardel, the innkeep, said that she was too bright for the world. I think something happened that made the allure of her imagined world greater than the sadness of the world she now inhabited.

Let it be known, hard tack is disgusting and makes your mouth as dry as a pumice stone in a desert. It is also chewier than you would expect. Even as I put my pack back on and braced for the wind again I was still chewing my mouthful of wheaten aridity. I really hoped that I neared the end of my journey, it had been three days climb and none of them had been pleasant but I honestly missed the drizzle of my home, drizzle doesn't bite and it doesn't screech with the tones of the dead's mania.

I had done all I could for Charise, I know that, I could not have stopped her if I had even known her plans. Hells below, even within your mind you cannot say things you know to be true but fail to accept convincingly. A slight growl of frustration left my lips, snatched from the rippling scarf as soon as the sound left the calm air of the fabric. I shouted and that too was grabbed by the wind and thrown away from my ears. I turned to face the sharp slope of the Crag's Tooth and in defiance of my grief, in denial of my guilt and in fury at the relentless wind I screamed, a rabid, hoarse and nearly endless scream. I kept going as spittle mixed with blood and flecks of hard tack. My jaw locked open, pulling my scarf down so that the force of the howling gale forced itself into my throat, silencing me and causing me to reel back clutching at my throat.

I knew before I could feel my foot slipping that I was falling, my mind already ahead of the calamity I had brought upon myself. My arms windmilled, unguided by my mind and the howling wind cackled in my ears and I could hear in it that turn of mania, that call to the pit of despair. The axis of the world tilted as my right foot stepped back into nothing, sinking into sky and I tumbled back. My hands sought for grip in whirling winds and I tasted bike, sickly salty bile as I began to fall into the open sky. Thankfully, or not, I am still unsure to this day; my flight was short and I landed upon my head on the steep slope of the tooth and I fell unconscious.

Warmth filled the small living area, glass framed in moss and flaking wood and stained a sickly but verdant green filtered the pale, cloud strained light of the sun and illuminated a beam of dust motes that hung lazily in the air. The room was bare, a pair of chairs carved lovingly but seemingly by a lineage of different craftspeople sat near a wrought iron fire, it's chimney breaching the stacked wood logs of the wall in a sealed hole, the clay sealant cracked like an arid river basin in contrast to the underlying damp that permeated the room. The chairs sat close together, one accompanied by a small table upon which sat a small leather spectacle case lying closed with a small piece of a larger handkerchief poking out from within, trapped in the closing of the clasp and beside it a heavy book bound in wood and cloth.

The other chair was not accompanied by a table, but by an accumulation of objects that were seemingly random. A carving knife, brilliantly sharp but rusted at the quillon and sporting a great many deep gouges on it's flats; next to the knife lay a book, this one lovingly bound in tightly pressed leather and sporting a ribbon book mark that lolled from the open pages like the tongue of a slain dragon. There were cups and a magnifying glass and a child's doll, all scattered around the chair like the charnal in a hunting beast's lair.

The fire was, as ever, raging too hot with an abundance of fuel and the drizzle from the mountains above misted the window in a thousand droplets without the satisfying drumming of rain. The room was as it should be, as it had been for a decade at least since their father's passing, next to the door leading to the kitchen stood his stick, the handle a gloriously realised hawk. It had been carved by Charise when he began to lose his balance as he got grey and weary, it was odd though as he had always been rather against the hawks of the valley basin the lived in, hating their piercing cries. The gift had been appreciated though and he had used it until he got into bed and never got back out. It was a hard month, nursing him and giving him the root pastes and seed milks that the medicine man had advised for his pain. There had been something heartbreaking about having to take on his every bodily function during that long summer month. Charise had run off with another boy, a plaything with which to avoid the reality of home. He had never entered the home while father was dying though, a sensible lad by all accounts. The burning had been well attended, but was not a celebration. Father's role as taxman for the king had made him well known, well respected, but not beloved.

I crossed the room to my seat, glad it was the further one from the fire as the iron of it was smoking in places. I opened my book and tried to relax, looking up towards the Crag's Tooth, it's arching sharpness making me increasingly uneasy, as if it had malice for me. Then the discomfort manifested into real and gripping pain. Aching and splitting, needling and tearing. It grew and grew until I could not bear it, it was jointly dull and roaring as it encased my entire being and I remembered that I was not at home. I had fallen from near the peak of the Crag's Tooth. I had fallen into the sky itself with nothing to catch me and now, I was being torn away from safety into that reality.