#fanfic??

[awesome-shoes-with-wings]

Athena’s Characterization in Epic: The Musical Makes a Tragic Amount of Sense If Her Backstory with Pallas Is Canon

AKA I Have A Lot Of Feelings

At least I know what I'm fighting for While you're fighting to be known Since you claim you're so much wiser Why's your life spent all alone? You're alone - My Goodbye, Cyclops Saga

Odysseus' words here hit Athena hard—enough to shift her narrative the next time we see her. Maybe there’s a reason she pushes Odysseus to be the best, to never fail. Because the last time Athena failed, her best friend died.

Now Odysseus lost Polites and his soldiers to the Cyclops. Another failure - "I don't know where I went wrong". Athena partially blames herself for the way it turned out.

You are reckless, sentimental at best That's not a teaching of mine You've grown soft, your dead friends can attest - My Goodbye, Cyclops Saga

When Athena was still a new goddess, she was educated by Prince Triton. His daughter, Pallas, was her best friend. Her first, even. Killed by her own spear.

While Zeus may have been responsible for setting the events in motion, Athena likely holds herself responsible. If she had been a wise warrior, then Pallas' death could've been avoided. If she had been a ruthless warrior, she would've won and Zeus would've had no reason to intervene. Even in practice, Zeus' expectations for Athena were higher than she could reach. Athena cannot fail again.

Now, I'm knocking on your door With hopes to save a friendship - God Games, Wisdom Saga

Athena is once again fights for the life of a friend. She says "friendship", knowing she and Odysseus might never reconcile. She's not quite saving a friendship as much as she is saving her friend. Now make it even worse by thinking about Pallas.

I can't help but wonder what this world could be If we all held each other with a bit more empathy I can't help but feel like I led you astray What if there's a world where we don't have to live this way? - I Can't Help But Wonder, Ithaca Saga

These lines reflect something deeper within Athena. A question she has grappled with from the start. She has a desire to "make a greater tomorrow". It's why she takes young Odysseus under her wing. She recognised in him the potential for a better world. Athena lost sight of what that meant. Then Odysseus reminded her—and maybe, just maybe, it was Pallas too.

[worms-for-brains]

The Details.

A Drabble I wrote about a Captain John Price.

——————————————————————

John Price has always been a more sociable man. He enjoys talking with teammates and comrades. To him it signifies a bond. A relationship. Even if it’s very few words spoken in quiet whispers and soft murmurs.

But for once, he does not want to speak. Not with the hardened looking woman in front of him. Not with the one with the worn face and tired eyes. Not with the one he knew so long ago.

But, Price has to. At least protocol calls for it. Otherwise it’d be insubordination. So he turns the cigar round in his mouth and faces her.

“General Alcaraz.” His voice sounds borderline hoarse as he watches her come to stand next to him in the bar balcony’s railings.

For a moment he’s not sure how she’ll respond. Whether it be with a sharp hiss or a calm remark. Then again, every reaction he’s catalogued has been from what feels like an eternity gone past.

Her hands come to clasp behind her back as she looks out to the city line that’s visible from the balcony.

“John.” She replies after a while. Well, her voice hasn’t changed much. Ever the flat and stiff tone she had even as a cadet.

The silence returns, and it itches at Price’s brain. For all the reluctance he has to talk to her, he’s still a man of conversation. His brow twitches almost imperceptibly as he takes a drag from his cigar, exhaling a thick plume of smoke into the dark of the night.

“Why’re you here Rio.” Price says after a moment. The name is near bitter on his tongue.

“…You know why John. I send my condolences.”

She comments rather bluntly, it nearly makes Price laugh. Nearly. The sharp sting of her words overtakes him though. However he doesn’t let his mind wander too far down that pit.

“Thanks…” Price sighs, it’s a broken sound. “Why… goddamn it… Rio…what’s all this about? You don’t talk to me for god knows how long and out of the blue you decide to find me at a bar?”

The silence only grows, and Price wonders if he might’ve pushed too far for the stoic officer.

“Seven years ago… you wanted to be a general…” She murmurs quietly, finally meeting his own tired eyes with hers. Creases and wrinkles that marr faces too young for them.

“When they said no, you said ‘I guess I just can’t see the bigger picture.” Rio continued, pulling out a folder from seemingly nowhere, it must’ve been behind her back where her hands rested. She held it out to Price who took it with brows knitted together. Her voice is almost sympathetic in its tone.

“The problem John, is not that you can’t see the bigger picture...”

Price opened the file, a scruffy mohawk and confident blue eyes stare up at him. His hands clench the paper so tightly it might rip.

“…You care far too much about the details.”

———————————————————————

[miasudare]

Do ya'll think I can write?

(So, I'm kinda want to try like, writing and stuff but I don't know if I write good? This like, the start of what I'm writing)

Another festival was over, a start of the new morning could be seen from the little spaces between leaves. The sound of rocks, dirt, walking and the rusty metals of the cariages clinking could be heard in the outer parts of Darkwood. The cariages had scared, wimpy sheep in them. How many were them now? Six sheep? Seven? Seven. The last seven sheep in the entire lands of the Old Faith.

‘’C’mon, move them faster you lazy boneless bugs! We need to take these cariages to Darkwood before morning!’’ one of the cultists said, he was from Anura with a clear yellow mark on his robe under the Old Faith marking. There were about five swordsmen for the two cariages, two centipedes (a.k.a vephar kins) that carried them an done leading archer. These sheep were being taken to Darkwood, so that their wool would be shaven off before being chopped to each pieces of mutton.

‘’What do ya think we’re doing?! We don’t usually clib, we slide to depths of caves! Ugh, the grass is so irritating…’’ The centipedes yelled out, tired from the warm weather they’re not used to. Oh how they missed the cold walls and sticky webs.

‘’With that many amount of legs, you have no right to moan or complain about it! You should be greatfull to serve your master Heket-‘’

‘’Shamura.’’ The centipede corrected.

‘’Yes them. You should be greatful to serve.’’ The swordsman rolled eyes under the shadow of his robe. ‘’So work your many… icky… feet! What we do is very divine mission!’’

‘’It’s just carrying a butcher shop around, Troh. You take this bullshit too serious.’’ Another swordsman, from Darkwood said.

‘’Bullshit!? You heretic! You sin mouthed! You dare to call something sacred like serving your god bullshit?!’’ Troh, the said swordsman took big offense to that.

‘’It’s just some big, mutant overlords you call gods! You’re really brainwashed with all those menticide mushrooms aren’t you? The only thing good about them is how they are a man of their words. I’m not complaining until the worm stops feeding me.’’

‘’You defiant-‘’

As the cultists argued, the sheep listened. Three in one carriage, four in the other. Some had bruises, some had cut skin from previous shavings. The sheep didn’t have a name. They never needed one if they were going to get their throats slit open for one more useless festival, one more gluttonous feast or a simple gathering. Their fear filled eyes darted around the trees, hoping to memorize each path if a miracle were to happen, if they ever had a chance to run away from this life of torture.

‘’Hey. Are you okay little one?’’ One ewe asked to the silent one. The kid wasn’t much of a talker, just turned their age to be considered ’adult’ or, to be considered ‘food’. White wool, tired eyes mixed with hopeless curiousity. They looked up to the ewe.

‘’Yeah…’’ they looked away. ‘’I’m not used to going out the gates. It’s my first time in Darkwood.’’ The lamb added, continuing to look around. Most sheep would be kept either in Anura or Darkwood because how close they were to the main lands unlike Anchor Deep or Silk Cradle, which were deep down in ocean and caves with terrible transportation.

(...)

[l0ves1te]

would yall like it if I posted the storyboard of the fanmade ninjago season me and jack have been workin on

[justagaymoth]

What if I spit out a fanic

What if I made Gollum heal and learn the errors of his ways and have functional multiplicity with Smeagal

[newvillainontheblock]

(From the @shadow-cafe)

Hello! I see you are in a... interesting situation.

It will likely take us some time, but we could pick you and your AU version up to fix the situation! ^^

WAIT WHO ARE YOU, BUT THANK YOUUUUUU wait au what

🕸

[rudamaruda520]

me as a writer

[tenderwatches]

sometimes you need dialogue tags and don't want to use the same four

[knebellindemann]

[trekscribbles]

This week, I read a fic that was around 20 years old, which had originally been posted on the author's personal website and which she added to AO3 a few years ago. She listed her email address with the fic, so after I finished reading, I sent her an email saying how much I enjoyed the story, how much I appreciated the work and effort she obviously put into it, and thanked her for uploading it to AO3. She responded the next day and thanked me for my message, then said she had a few more stories in the same series that she hadn't gotten around to uploading. I checked this morning--she added a 35,000 word novella and thanked me in the summary.

👏 comment 👏 on 👏 old 👏 fics 👏

[honeybee2807]

Was scrolling through AO3 and found this gem

Enemy to parent is a trope we have to popularise lmao

[mi1kw33d-2]

ao3 is crazy because you'll read the most gut-wrenching 200k word slowburn that leaves you sobbing into your sweater at four in the morning and the author will be applejacksmonstercock

[jandjsalmon]

Fun Story to Share.

I got my (now 18-year-old) daughter into Ao3 back in 2021. I taught her she should always comment - even if the fic looks old or abandoned or whatever. She did.

Well - she got this email this morning:

The fic was written in 2014 and essentially abandoned.

Bethy read and reviewed in 2021 (and was actually the only person who had commented at all).

Today in 2025 - the final chapter was posted by the author and this was her reply to Bethy’s comment.

———

Never question whether a fic is too old to comment on.

[queer-here-and-in-fear]

BTW i see these posts all the time like "ohhh i dont know what to comment on fics.." and every response is "keysmashes! or hearts!! anything works :3" and thats GREAT!! thats helpful!!

but: consider. if u genuinely like analyzing writing.. do u know ur just allowed to go through and quote your favorite parts and ramble abt what they mean to u and the author will LOSE IT WITH HYPE?

genuinely. i felt SO WEIRD the first time i did it.. but like. holy shit authors love it. its crack for authors. the first time i did it, it was on a fic that hadnt updated in half a year, give or take, and the author made 3 updates that month BECAUSE OF MY COMMENT.

LIKE. as an author every comment is INCREDIBLE!!! but also, dont feel like your comment has to be short or otherwise ur invasive or smth!! authors ADORE long comments more than ANYTHING.

[mostly-funnytwittertweets]