#unbelievable that the world is so beautiful and it's getting destroyed

[pocket-size-cthulhu]

Are these little mental health walks actually helping any of our mental health or does it replace your depression with rage (about corporate culture, the environment, and car-centric cities) like it does for me? Is my therapist looking out for my mental health or is she preparing me to start the revolution

[primrosebow]

An open letter to bigfatbimbo.🪽

Reasons why you should write for Adam.

1 -> He is a misogynist (not for long)

Look at his face. He is so weird. I swear. He has been favoritized for far too long, leaving him with the most mind-numbing god complex. Don't you want to stab him to death like niffty? Don't you want to put him where he deserves to be (either underground or under me)? I do. You should too! Because his way of thinking meets it's end where my heels begin.

2 -> He is stupid

He has the emotional maturity of a boiled lobster. He fits into heaven like an orca in the amazon river. He is so unbelievably incompetent it is actually kind of mind boggling. Don't you want to crush him like he's a little bug (either with your fists or your thighs)? Didn't he literally say one of the "biggest issues evet" was math or something? He probably couldn't tell you where Africa is in the world map even if you paid him. Even the fruit of knowledge couldn't give him enough braincells to function as a proper member of society.

3 -> he deserves humiliation

He deserves to have his entire worldview rocked and destroyed, something we can surely provide. His shallow thinking should be promptly obliterated. He has only ever gotten away from beautiful tall strong women because he always had the option of just asking for a different woman. They didn't have the mental fortitude to put him in his place. We are the bearers of the curse (liking repulsive men), and, since there is no "mental fortitude" to begin with, there is nothing for him to break down. We (as a collective) should end him.

4 -> I know what he is

His entire persona is a gigantic act to make up for the fact he cannot appropriatelly cope with losing in general, much less losing the, like, 2 wives he ever had (to THE SAME GUY!! MIND YOU!!!) and if he had more people they were one night stands. Not because he left them, but because people know he is worthless scum and he is good for nothing other than his "original dick" ( eugh. I usually refrain from cursing >:// ). It is the reason for his pride and also the only thing that makes him even remotely worth the hastle of talking to. He is the equivalent of a carnival prize to the people in heaven, scoring him is more of a show of your own endurance rather than how coveted he is. He has been objectified through his own hubris. He should be made aware of that. He should fear the knowledge we posses. It should be used against him.

5 -> he sounds.. like.. . He sounds good.

I watched the series while skipping most of the songs but I genuinelly could not do it when he was singing. No wonder he's in a band or something, I didn't actually pay attention to what he was saying I was paying more attention to the sound of his voice so I don't remember clearly what's up with that. Like he sounds REALLY good. If only he knew how to just use his voice without saying the most repulsive atrocities to be ever uttered by anyone ever. Oh yeah! We can make him incoherent enough for that to happen.

6 -> Lute deserves better

Lute deserves, like, a woman. Not him. She's too gorgeous for him, and, the difference between us and her is that while SHE is dealing with HIM, in our case, HE has to deal with US. Really, we're just saving a beautiful, amazing, stunning, showstopping woman a lot of trouble, and getting an ENTIRE PATHETIC MAN AS A TRADE! WIN WIN! Literally no downsides, I swear.

7 -> he is girl dinner

Don't you just love looking into your fridge and seeing the worthless scraps that built up overtime but somehow taste better now than they usually would have, which is particularly shocking considering it has 0 nutritional value? That would be what girl dinner is, and also an appropriate analogy for what Adam is like! Just roughly ok looking enough for you to not downright call it a biohazard. You will go to bed satisfied after fighting tooth and nail for your dinner (getting him to behave properly) and, it'll be easier the next times maybe! Operant conditioning is a heavy hitter with this repulsive individual, so it might actually get easier! Who knows!

8 -> Pretty please? (´｡･д人)ﾞ

I really. Uh . I really want him if you couldn't tell? Maybe the cannibalism and the fear I want to instill into him got in the way of you seeing my point, but, like, that's just how I love. The highest honor I could bestow on him is wanting to eat him, so, maybe that'll assist in your judgement? I also just really like your writing and would love to hear your thoughts on his idiotic self. AND! AND! Other people also want you to write about him if I well remember the 1 ask you received about him!

I await your response when you are available @bigfatbimbo

If you need more convincing; I can, like, draw him? I'm going to draw him no matter what but like I can cook something up for you in particular who knows.

You did say you were already considering writing for him, so, maybe this can be a final push in that direction for you!

- sincerely, Bow

[lady-phasma]

Hey! I'm loving chatting with you on these last posts, so now I'm curious about your IWTVerse faves? Season, episode, scene, character, ship, book, chapter, quote. It can be more than one, btw! I know quotes are more specific and it can be hard remembering, so it doesn't need to be your ultimate favorite, but something you love. Also, how should I call you? 🙃💗

I am so excited to answer this! It's been lovely to meet you! You can call me Auntie but not everyone feels comfortable with that. So Phasma works or Phazzie (I've gotten that one before and it's fun).

My IWTVerse faves... hmm... let's see.

Season 2 is definitely my favorite season for many, many reasons but mostly because Assad got to shine so much more!

Favorite episode of all 15 eps? This is difficult. I love the more dramatic and powerful episodes like 2.05 and 2.07 but I really love the pilot. If I had to choose just one it would be 2.07. The trial is brutal but it showcases all the amazing writing, acting, set design, and camera work even if I watch it with tears running down my cheeks.

My favorite scene from any episode is probably Lestat's "little drink" scene with Louis. That is unbelievably hot and never gets less hot no matter how many times I watch it. But specifically, this shot in the room before they get started. The feelings. oof!

Picking a favorite character is probably the most difficult. Lestat has always been the love of my life (since I read IWTV & TVL at 10 years old) but I truly adore all of the main characters in the books and series.

I don't really have a favorite ship. I ship them all with whoever. I am incredibly intrigued by all relationships that Armand has, but no ship in Anne's world is more important to me than another. Each pairing helps us understand something about the characters which is why she shipped them all over the place with each other. LoL

The book answer is easy - The Vampire Lestat. Here's a link to a recent post I made about my 30 year old copies of the books. I read TVL until it fell apart multiple times but I still have it on my shelf.

Favorite chapter from my favorite book or from any of the books? Both? LoL My favorite chapter of TVL is chapter 1 of Part 3: Viaticum for the Marquise (when Lestat turns Gabrielle). My favorite chapter from the entire Chronicles is Chapter 4 of The Vampire Armand. Not only did Anne write one of the most beautiful dead doves, but she tossed in a little of her BDSM flavor in that chapter as well. The scene with Marius and Amadeo's brattiness is delicious every time I read it.

My favorite quote from the series is I had powers now and decades of rage to process, and it was both random and unfortunate the man picked that night to dabble in fuckery. - Louis

My favorite quote from the books is probably the opening of TVL: I am the Vampire Lestat. I'm immortal. More or less. The light of the sun, the sustained heat of an intense fire —these things might destroy me. But then again, they might not.

[butterflydm]

cr3 102 (more thoughts)

adding a follower of asmodeus to the party at this time is just such a fascinating choice! was that entirely a sam choice or did matt make any suggestions about it, I wonder. Because it just seems a way to really crystalize to the party why the primes might have been willing to ally with the betrayers (and yet they also saw why it's maybe not a great idea in the long run, because of the betraying).

but it really pulls focus to asmodeus, and that definitely informed the vibe of delaunda fight for me, because while the party didn't see the downfall prologue, we did. we know that it was unbelievable pain and trauma that formed asmodeus into what he is (unbelievable amounts of pain and trauma shaping people has been a reoccurring theme of the campaign as a whole so far). Trauma is also what shaped ludinus! And it's what ludinus uses to draw people into his arguments (bor'dor was very much there because of trauma, iirc, and that's clearly a huge motivator for dorian as well).

seeing the prologue was a big part of what made it so understandable that the prime gods kept giving the betrayers second chances -- both sides of the argument, primes vs betrayers, believe that they're on the correct side of the argument, but they also both remember when they were on the same side together, when they were family. For the primes, that comes out as regret and guilt; for the betrayers, that comes out as resentment and a frustrated possessiveness over the primes.

ludinus's arguments were trash but effective on people who are emotionally vulnerable (like dorian) - honestly perfect for the type of cult leader that he's been positioned as, imo. His arguments are only effective when you are already in a headspace where you want to latch onto his same kind of reasoning -- "all of my trauma is the gods' fault and if we just got rid of the gods then mortals would all go skipping through the fields of paradise together". Arguing that everything beautiful in the world is due to mortals, etc.

So, mild storytime: I was raised religious, am currently atheist, and I absolutely went through a hard anti-theist stage for several years, where I basically put all the evils of the world on religion. And it took time for me to see that authoritarianism and other harmful ideologies can happen in atheist spaces too, because I personally had been damaged by the religion that I grew up in and I couldn't see past that until I had healed, at least to a certain extent. So I understand ludinus's headspace somewhat. It's nice to think that you can blame all the bad things in the world on one big thing, and that if you could just get rid of that one thing, everything would be better. But it's not true. Human nature will still be human nature.

And I feel like the majority of Bells Hells have shown that they understand that. Downfall did shift some of them in one direction or the other, but at the base, most of them do understand that getting rid of the gods doesn't actually fix anything in the long run.

What Ludinus also keeps doing (and what he gets his cult to do) is generalize -- it's not "these specific gods have done evil and I hate them"; he shifts it so that the blame lands on all gods. The Spider Queen killed Dorian's brother, but Dorian is willing to parse that as "the gods" killed his brother. We saw in downfall that the gods had a variety of opinions over Aeor and the original plan was that they just wanted to investigate and then destroy the weapon that could kill them (some of them believed that it would come to destroying the city but it was a matter of disagreement among the group).

The Everlight and the Dawnfather in particular were attempting to find ways to save the city as long as they possibly could. "The gods" are not a monolith of beings who all think and do the same things. They are individuals who (rather famously) disagree with each other sometimes.

It is also interesting to me that Ludinus accused the Exandrian gods of feeding on their followers when I can't actually think of any examples of this happening in the text? But what is hungry? What does want to feed? Predathos. Is Ludinus projecting his god's flaws onto the prime and betrayer gods?

I mean, as far as I can tell, the gods don't actually need followers to be powerful -- the Everlight got all the same bonuses as the rest of them in the end fight of downfall, despite the vast majority of her followers having been killed by Asmodeus in an earlier betrayal. The strength that followers give them appears to be more about them empowering their followers with their own strength to fight on their behalf. They feed their followers rather than the reverse. Or at least that's what appears to be happening.

And the gods were willing to empower mortals who didn't worship them back during cr1 in order to fend off vecna. Ioun didn't demand that Scanlan become a worshipper of hers, iirc. She gave him her blessing because she judged him worthy of it on his own merits, not because he was willing to praise and follow her.

[michaelsfavgirl]

Mike is so beautiful like, bro is the definition of perfection. he's a "no lube, no protection, all night, all day, from the kitchen floor to thetoilet seat, from the bathroom sink to the shower, from the front porch to the balcony, vertically, horizontally, quadratic, exponential, logarithmic, while I gasp for air, scream, and see the light, missionary, cowgirl, reverse cowgirl, doggy, backwards, sideways, upside down, on the floor, in the bed, on the couch, on a chair, being carried, against the wall, outside, in a train, on a plane, in the car, on a motorcycle, on the back of a truck, on a trampoline, in a bounce, in the pool, in the garden, bent over, in the basement, against the window, having the most toe curling, back arching, leg shaking, dick throbbing, fist clenching, ear ringing, mouth drooling, ass clenching, nose sniffing, eye watering, eye rolling, hip thrusting, earthquaking, sheet gripping, knuckles cracking, jaw dropping, hair pulling, teeth jitterbug, mind blogging, soul snatching, overstimulating, vile, sloppy, moan introducing, heart wrenching, spine tingling, back breaking, atrocious, gushy, creamy, beastly, lip biting, gravity defying, nail biting, sweaty, feet kicking, mind blowing, body shivering, orgasmic, bone breaking, world ending, black hole creating, universe destroying, devious, scrumptious, amazing, delightful, delectable, unbelievable, body numbing, bark worthy, can't walk, head nodding, soul evaporating, vulcano erupting, sweat rolling, voice cracking, trembling, sheets soaked, hair drenched, flabbergasting, lip locking, skin peeling, eye widening, pussy popping, nail scratching, back cuts, spectacular, brain cell devolving, hair ripping, show stopping, magnificent, unique, extraordinary, splendid, phenomenal, mouth foaming" type of dude, you get what I'm saying

well, anyways pookie bear is gorgeous

with all my love, hope ♡

no lube, no protection, all night, all day, from the kitchen floor to the toilet seat, from the bathroom sink to the shower, from the front porch to the balcony, vertically, horizontally, quadratic, exponential, logarithmic, while I gasp for air, scream, and see the light, missionary, cowgirl, reverse cowgirl, doggy, backwards, sideways, upside down, on the floor, in the bed, on the couch, on a chair, being carried, against the wall, outside, in a train, on a plane, in the car, on a motorcycle, on the back of a truck, on a trampoline, in a bounce, in the pool, in the garden, bent over, in the basement, against the window, having the most toe curling, back arching, leg shaking, dick throbbing, fist clenching, ear ringing, mouth drooling, ass clenching, nose sniffing, eye watering, eye rolling, hip thrusting, earthquaking, sheet gripping, knuckles cracking, jaw dropping, hair pulling, teeth jitterbug, mind blogging, soul snatching, overstimulating, vile, sloppy, moan introducing, heart wrenching, spine tingling, back breaking, atrocious, gushy, creamy, beastly, lip biting, gravity defying, nail biting, sweaty, feet kicking, mind blowing, body shivering, orgasmic, bone breaking, world ending, black hole creating, universe destroying, devious, scrumptious, amazing, delightful, delectable, unbelievable, body numbing, bark worthy, can't walk, head nodding, soul evaporating, vulcano erupting, sweat rolling, voice cracking, trembling, sheets soaked, hair drenched, flabbergasting, lip locking, skin peeling, eye widening, pussy popping, nail scratching, back cuts, spectacular, brain cell devolving, hair ripping, show stopping, magnificent, unique, extraordinary, splendid, phenomenal, mouth foaming

I literally have no words besides AMEN TO THAT. + the visuals??? Mhm yeah scrumptious

[ladysomething]

I know I said I wanted it to be bigger than I love you but I also said I trusted you even if it was and as always you delivered because my heart was absolutely broken with how raw his confession was and how it was answered and I think maybe because just like Charles I didn't fully understand how bad it was, it's like I could see why he was scared for Charles but I couldn't fully understand it but this chapter it finally clicked.

I feel like Charles will be pushed into retirement after this season wether he wins it or not and what happened this chapter will be used against him.

Also I think Jean luc is on Max's side but he can also understand Charles that's why everytime he does one of his stupid plans he doesn't yell at him, sure he tells him Max is good but he doesn't show much anger towards him because he can see the fear Charles is dealing with, but I think this time he's gonna be upset with Charles because of what he said to Max.

It would be nice if once Sophi is talking about being an omega with Charles, she also mentions the part that Max is conflicted to show Charles, the part that despite showing it in the past and revealing the reason behind it Charles through his anger and fear completely ignored it and I don't think he's gonna get this part of Max back easily, he absolutely shattered his heart into pieces and destroyed his trust, worst than that he compared him to his dad. Max have had all these insecurities about wether he turns into a monster like Jos or not and despite working hard and believing in himself for all he's done what Charles said it's gonna break him.

I kinda wanna smack Charles because of what he said to Max after Max pour his heart out for him but at the same time I can see why he acted the way he did, he's already confuse and scared and suddenly everything he knew was wrong, he has been taking care of himself on his own for too long that he only believes in what he thinks is right and having Max of all people caring for him, loving him is far from a truth he used to believe in. And everyone constantly keeps everything from him to protect him in their words which makes the truth more unbelievable for him.

And Max, god the way you wrote him and his confession made me almost crying for him I mean I did cry a bit cause the way he knows Charles won't love him back,the way accepted that and then Charles once again accuses him of being someone, something he hates the most in the world and that's where it breaks him and we see the look of betrayal he felt in that moment.

I just want to hug them and give them a happy moment like I don't even know if Max will be in Charles dream this time or if Charles can finally try to understand Max, if he will try to reach him this time. And it's just so heartbreaking seeing their pain being mostly cause by the world around them but consciously and unconsciously they are the ones who twist the knife more and hurt each other more.

And omg the team with that contract,like wtf I wrong with you all,I kinda wish Max would have told him despite Charles believing it or not, he deserved to know what was happening to him and his life especially after Max realized Charles is gonna doe everything to be out of that contract,I know he wanted Charles to want this himself and believed him when he was sweet to him even if a part was actually the truth,and completely understand why he kept it secret but the way Charles realized how far everything about his life was out of him hands now god that was hurtful almost as much as his cruel words towards Max...

This was such a beautiful Chapter that I'm at awe. I don't what to say to show much I loved it I don't think if I can find enough words for, I just know that I'm gonna start the next Chapter with watery eyes while feeling anxious for what would be the next step fro them. Thank you so much for this beautiful chapter the way each part of can make me feel emotional is truly an art. Your writing style is also beautiful💛

I've been waiting for you anon!!! I was desperate to know what you thought, and whether I'd earned your trust!!

I can't say anything re retirement the season obvs, but you would be right in assuming that the stakes are that high.

JL has kind of become the meat in the sandwich tbh. I feel for the poor guy. justice for jean-luc!

and Charles definitely went too far, but then again, Max certainly didn't give him any reasons to pull his punches. he said "you have all these terrible qualities but its ok I still love you :)" and then expected Charles to be nice about it??? come on now.

but then again, Max is just trying his best. he's a fucked up little dude, and doesn't really understand what Charles' problem is - refuses to understand what Charles' problem is - so if he doesn't want to meet Charles halfway, then why should Charles be the one who has to do it?

but!! they're getting there. at least now Charles actually knows some stuff, and he has space to think about it a bit more.

and thank you for your kind words. I appreciate them very much.

[s-t-a-c-y-y-y]

Dog of Chaos - Part 1

Chikn stared into the void, processing everything that had happened within the last few hours. His anger from being rejected by his friends led him to transform everyone and everything into abstract, incomprehensible shapes. There wasn't a single ounce of joy left inside of the deity, and the only emotions that remained were guilt, shame, and an endless supply of dread. The whimsical music that once filled his world was now replaced with pure silence. The silence was so deafening to Chikn that it pierced his long ears like needles.

Suddenly, out of the silence, Chikn heard a familiar giggle. It was Bezel, the embodiment of time and the seemingly innocent Clock-faced being that he was naive enough to view as a guardian.

"Ha! Look what you've done, my friend!" Bezel jeered. "Oh boy, you should've seen the look on your face! The drama! The chaos! Oh my, it was beautiful!"

Chikn didn't respond, nor did he even look at Bezel. He continued staring into the void, pretending that Bezel wasn't even there. Still, Bezel approached the dog-like god, not even caring much about his emotions.

"Oh, don't be sad, buddy!" Bezel said to Chikn while stroking his head. "Maybe this will cheer you up!" Out of nowhere, Bezel grabbed out a half-empty bag of popcorn. He had been eating out of it while he watched Chikn unleash his wrath upon the world. "I've got leftovers!" Bezel giggled as he waved a piece of popcorn in front of Chikn's face.

Still, Chikn didn't respond.

Bezel started to get frustrated. "Listen, Chikn. You should be happy that this happened! You should be glad that you finally got to use your godly powers to your biggest potential! You should be PROUD!" Bezel tried to sound as motivational as possible.

"Proud?" Chikn said in an enraged tone. "I should be PROUD?"

"Woah, there, buddy!" Bezel yelped. "There's no need to bark at me like that! How rude!"

Chikn was looking directly at Bezel's face. Bezel had seen Chikn angry before, but this was the first time the anger was directed at him. It was truly terrifying. Still, Bezel tried not to show his fear to the deity. After all, dogs can detect fear. Well, that's what Bezel thought. Despite being the god of time itself, Bezel was about as bright as a digital watch with a broken screen.

"I'm not proud!" Chikn roared. "I ruined my friend's lives without them even knowing it! I destroyed everything and everyone that I've ever loved and ever known! I'm NOT proud! I'm ashamed of myself! I'm a LOSER!" Chikn's anger had led to a ring of fire developing around him and Bezel.

Bezel turned his back to Chikn. "You don't understand, do you?" Bezel whispered to Chikn. "I set this up! Your world was so boring before! It was just the same jokes repeated over and over and over again! You can only laugh at the same jokes so many times! It was HORRIBLE! I HATED IT!"

Chikn couldn't believe what he was hearing. 'You hated seeing me happy?" Chikn asked.

"Not just that, bird-dog!" Bezel hollered. "I realized how un-special everything was. I wished there was a way to fix it, and then it hit me!" Bezel continued rambling on, pacing back and forth in front of the confused and irate Chikn. "I came to your world to get you and everyone else in your world into finally doing something interesting for once, and guess what? IT WORKED! I finally enjoyed it, and so many others behind the fourth dimension did as well! It was a spectacle! The trauma, the drama, the horror, everything about it was great! You became so much better than your boring old self! That's why you should be proud!"

Chikn was trembling with rage. He loved the way life was before Bezel arrived, and apparently, people hated that. How was that a bad thing? He didn't understand. He just couldn't help but let out the loudest, most anguished scream he had ever let out. He roared as his body transformed into an abstract mess of shapes and colors. It was so unbelievable that even Bezel didn't want to look at it.

What happened after? Well, stay tuned...

[go-learn-esperanto]

Actually, have some European Portuguese (or Portuguese from Portugal) idioms and expressions that I love. (Some might also be used in Brazil. Others definitely are not)

1. Category: Expressions that exist because of the Lisbon Earthquake of 1755 (yes there's more than one in this category. No, we're not all 200+ years old but we still reference that earthquake every day)

Rés vés Campo de Ourique - It means that something didn't happen by an inch. This was because after the earthquake the Tsunami almost got to Campo de Ourique, a neighbourhood in Lisbon.

Caiu o Cabo e a Trindade - This means everything is going wrong. It comes from the fact that the earthquake destroyed two convents, Carmo and Trindade.

2. Expressions to say "Go annoy someone else" or just "Fuck off". There's a lot of these.

Vai chatear o Camões - Literally means "Go annoy Camões". Camões is a very well known poet and writer from the XVI century. It's a joke about saying to go annoy somebody who's dead.

Vai ver se estou na esquina - literally "go see if I'm in the corner".

Vai dar a volta ao bilhar grande - literally "go round the big billiard (table?)". Beautiful.

Vai tomar banho - literally "go take a bath"

3. Who the fuck thought of these???

Rebeubéu, pardais ao ninho - it means that there's a commotion and/or a lot of noise. To translate this literally is difficult because Rebeubéu is barely a word but it means something like "(onomatopoeia that means lots of noise) sparrows to the nest".

Montou-se ali um 31 - means the same as the last expression. Literally "A 31 was set up there". You can technically make your own expression with 31 and it will mean the same thing - chaos. Now the question is: What in the world is a 31? Well, until today I also didn't know. It's allegedly a card game.

Nasceu com o rabo virado para a lua - means that someone got lucky even when they did not deserve it. They got what they wanted but didn't do anything to get it. Literally "they were born with the butt turned to the moon".

Cu de Judas - It means far away and/or in a place difficult to find. Literally "Ass of Judas"... Ass in butt. This expression is used all the time.

4. Snork mimi 💤

Vou bater chocolate - literally "I'm going to whisk chocolate"

Vou para o vale dos lençóis (probably my favourite expression that I use all the time because the mental image is amazing) - literally "I'm going to the bedsheet valley"

Vou fazer oó - oó is an onomatopoeia for sleeping. Only used with babies or jokingly.

Vou nanar - technically it means "I'm going to sleep" as nanar is another verb for sleep but I wanted to include it because it's something that you will only hear said in familial situations. It's not informal in the street sense it's just that it's a sweet way to say sleep that it's just not said by anyone else besides your mum when she wants to ask if you're sleepy and want to go to bed. It's cute :)

5. The origin of this one is more interesting than the expression itself

Primeiro estranha-se depois entranha-se - it means that you might not like something at first but you'll start enjoying it with time. Literally means "First you find it's odd afterwards it's engrained". So, this was actually thought by Fernando Pessoa, also one of the most well known portuguese poets and writers. He died in 1937. Anyway, for this wasn't a title of a book or something. He wrote this for a fucking Coca-Cola commercial. Cursed information.

6. ???

Quem anda à chuva, molha-se - literally "Who's in the rain gets wet". It means "WHEN WILL YOU LEARN?! WHEN WILL YOU LEARN, THAT YOUR ACTIONS, HAVE CONSEQUENCES?!?!?!"

Pão, pão, queijo, queijo - literally "bred, bred, cheese, cheese", which is beautiful. It means "Exactly what I just said", "It means just that"

São coisas do arco-da-velha. Literally "It's stuff from the rainbow". It means whatever happen was unbelievable. In the good or bad sense. The most common way of saying rainbow in Portuguese is arco-íris but arco-da-velha is s synonym less used. Galicia still uses it a lot though.

Feito ao bife - (Used all the time!!!) Literally "done at the steak". It means you're fucked lol (aka you were busted and are in big trouble)

[darkdevasofdestruction]

Chapter 6 ~ Death To All Who Oppose Us

"My brothers. We were forged in victory." Zeus began his moment of vivification. "A victory that ended the Great War and brought forth the reign of Mount Olympus. Born from the Depths of the Underworld, rooted in the River of Souls, our mountain emerged out of the Chaos. As it grew, so too did the might of the Olympians. WE created a world of peace - A world of prosperity - A world that lives in the shadow and safety of MY mountain. A mountain that has come to be the absolute measure of strength and power." Hermes watched his mighty Father spread his arms, showing his deep devotion to the Olympians and their home, which was under attack. He had to admit, Zeus had always been a great orator. A politician who was capable of manipulating and attracting even the unbelievers to his side, especially after an unexpected demonstration of power. "Now, on this day, that power is to be tested." Hermes, although emboldened by the speech, was barely able to keep himself from rolling his eyes - This is what happens when you cannot stay loyal to your wife - You get a prophecy about one of your many children who is out to kill you. How pitiful. On the other hand, not Poseidon, nor Hades have such a problem! As the saying goes, you reap what you sow, O, Mighty God. "The mortal, Kratos, seeks to destroy all that I have wrought. And he is aided by one of our own! Mine own daughter, Katrina, has betrayed us - But I do not blame her... Who knows the manipulation of which that mortal is capable of, to turn daughter against father, for the sake of a fleeting love!" and here come the lies, the Messenger thought to himself - Though he was perfectly fine with wringing the Spartan's neck for not only seeking to destroy his home and family, but for making his wife suffer so much over him... But that woman... She was so dear to him, that he would gladly lay down his life for her - He only prays that the dumb brute she is with would be as attentive about her own protection as he is. "Brothers! Put aside the petty grievances that have splintered us for so long! We WILL unite! We WILL stand together! And I WILL wipe out this plague! Olympus WILL prevail!" the mountain shook with each heavy climb from the titans, but nothing stopped Zeus from finishing his speech.

The three mighty brothers, along with Helios and Hermes, stepped by the edge of the balcony, readying themselves, mentally and physically, for an all-out war. The God of the Sun, upon seeing his chariot pulled by his fiery horses, jump onto it, ready for battle. Next, was the husband of the Goddess of Nature, who flipped a coin and made a self-bet. If Olympus won, he would see Heads in his palm - If not... Then, tails. But before he could allow himself to look, he simply caught the coin and held onto it tightly, hoping that there was some hidden 3rd option in which both himself and Katrina could simply run away and live a lavish life, just as before... Before that annoying Spartan came by. He only wished that, by the time he is able to find his wife and steal her away, the whole place isn't completely in shambles.

He could see her sitting upon Gaia... Poor soul, she looked absolutely distraught and afraid. How could such a darling, peaceful woman, thrive in the midst of bloodshed and havoc? Did Kratos truly care naught for the woman who had devoted her very existence to his well being? What a selfish bastard.

"Whatever happens - You MUST escape! Do you hear me?" through the chaos, the Goddess tried to hide behind a tree on Gaia's back. Kratos's voice brought her back to reality, only to frown and shake her head. "I had not gone suffering all this life, just to abandon you, or see your death before mine eyes! Have you any idea how oft have I heard that my love shalt die in mine very arms? I shalt have none of that!" the beautiful maiden reprimanded the once feared Spartan warrior, who grunted, displeased at the disobedience. "That was no question - It was an order!" he yelled back at her. "I am DONE losing my family to the petty whims of the Gods!" Though wholesome, her feelings were similar. "I am as selfish as you are, Kratos! I cannot live without you! Don't you DARE die on me! I have had enough! Do you hear me?!" she pleaded to him, yet it was cut short, not only by the heavy sound of a titan falling prey to the depths of the sea, but by Poseidon himself, creating a water monster to attack Gaia, and in turn, the two rebels - Morphed with algae, minerals and other rocks, Katrina was able to use her vines and hold the equine monster in place, while the Spartan were to destroy it with his powerful double blades. 

When the woman gave the signal that the aquatic entity was held surely, Kratos launched himself up by climbing on one of its arthrophodus-like arms, before latching them onto the horse's mandible and ripping it away - Though they were in free fall, the Goddess was able to offer her lover a liana that brought him in a sure location on the mountain - But her safety was naught in place, as Gaia was losing her footing steadily, being attacked by all.

 It was awful, having to fight all alone, without Kratos's reassuring presence by her side - Alas, whatever fight she was having could not be compared to what he was facing, surveying the inside of the mountain, through the Tomb of Ares. The old memory of the now deceased God of War mattered little anymore, so the Spartan left in a hurry, returning to aid the Titan Mother against the chimera-like water entity causing her heavy damage. Its crustacean shell was not as indestructible as it had wished to be, especially not against his cursed weapons - Weapons capable of killing Gods, Primordials and Titans alike. Thus, he pried away the horse's thorax, revealing the magma stone that served as a heart, which, with the aid of the monster's severed leg, he had impaled, allowing Kratos to properly climb back on the titan... Until he had reached her heart.

He had time for only a small glimpse of it, before running outside where the Goddess was awaiting him, seemingly alive and unscratched. But as soon as he went by her side, wishing to check on her, a gargantuan aquatic entity arose mightily from beneath the seas and emerged like the Great Lord that Governs all that is a water bed. "You DARE challenge me?! A GOD of Olympus?!" Poseidon's voice was dark and boomed menacingly throughout the air. "A TRUE warrior does not hide, Poseidon! Leave the sea and face me!" Kratos roared at the Mighty God, who did not pay him any mind. "The Gods are nothing but cunning cowards who play to their own advantages alone. I truly wished that this would have been avoided... Alas, we will have to destroy the heart of the water entity and pry him away from inside the safety of its carcass. Think we can achieve such a feat?" Katrina's eyes were fixed to its thorax, and she was able to get a glimpse at the God's real body. "Nothing is impossible for us, Katrina." the Spartan's answer painted a more confident smile on her face. "You have disrespected the Gods for the last time, Kratos." the many-headed water horse on which he was mounted crawled with its spiked crustacean legs onto the body of Gaia, leaving deep gashes and lacerations in its wake - The duo would immediately damage them intro retracting. "I will leave NOTHING of you in my wake!" Gaia's continuous gasps of pain meant nothing to either the Spartan or the Goddess - They had a single goal in mind, and that was to kill Zeus. "All of Olympus unites against you!" that would have been a great feat, should there be an army of Gods fighting them altogether - Which, was not the case.

The Mother Titan, however, was capable of catching the God into her hand, thus allow the God of War to jump onto it and deliver damage to his enemy. "For the greatness of Olympus!" he says, using his trident to harm Gaia - What a hypocrite, Katrina thought - He's only mad because of the accident with Atlantis!  Reaching a higher ground, Katrina was able to catch Poseidon's crown with her liana, hitting the entity's head onto the mountain, whilst Kratos destroyed away at its chest piece, revealing the beating stone heart. "Gaia! Hold on a little longer!" Katrina shouted at the Titan who was able to punch at the God's water form with Kratos on her fist - Thus, he could jump through the water giant's form and leapt with Poseidon's human body onto the mountain. He seemed exhausted already - Not much of a fighter, after all. "Zeus should have kept you where you belong." the man panted on the ground, completely out of breath, as the God of War looked down on him with scorn. "No matter how many Gods fall, there will always be another to stand against you." "They will fall as well." Kratos started stomping towards the slumped God. "The death of Olympus means the death of us all - That stupid flower girl who fooled you into thinking she loves you as well!" the Spartan was well aware of the lies the Gods of Olympus spew when in danger. He knew better than to trust any of them. "Then prepare for your death, Poseidon." he dared bad mouth the woman he loved, and even put in question the love she held for him - How foolish of him. 

With much ease, Kratos kept smashing and slamming Poseidon's head onto the wall of the mountain and onto the ground, threw him into rocks and kicked him in the face - Desperate to escape, he attempted to crawl away to the edge of the plateau they were on, hoping to jump into his water domain... But the Spartan had no mercy, and he used his thumbs to gouge his eyes out, before breaking his neck and kicking him into the sea, like a ragdoll. Though, with his domain accepting his deceased body, the water level rose to the point of flooding entire cities... And, mayhaps, even more.

"Kratos! Are you alright, my love?" Katrina asked, leaping from Gaia's body and embracing him dearly. "Of course. He was nothing but a nuisance - And now, he is dead." the man huffed, patting her shoulder as a reassurance. "Kratos! The death of Zeus is within out reach! Climb to my hand!" the two immediately complied, after sharing a dear look with each other, and the Spartan held the woman closely, so she would not fall in the climbing process. "Whatever happens, you do NOT interfere, understand? Zeus will not hesitate to use you as bait against me." Kratos warned his lover. "And if he does, you kill him. No matter what. The world will be a better place for the human realm without him and his arrogant corruption and misuse of power." she spoke back. "I care little for any realm. The one I care for is YOU. Understand? Now GO! I will NOT have Zeus kill you, or who knows what else. If I fall today, you have to run away and save yourself. I will have nothing else." his frown and restlessness were based strongly on the fear of losing the last person alive that he care for. "You are being so unfair to me..." he could not look into her pleading eyes - He knew, if he did, he would end up agreeing to her selfless plan. He couldn't.  "I am. Now leave, otherwise, I will throw you away myself." he did not allow her even the shortest kiss - Instead, just as he was forced to do with Calliope before, in Elysium, he pushed her away from him, He could not bare to even feel her touch, let alone, affection. "Please, I beg of you... Return to me. Alive." the feeling of dread grew forevermore, yet she knew, despite the life and death situation, there was nothing she could do to stop Kratos from attempting to kill Zeus by himself... Thus, she used a liana and ran away. How very cowardly. Through all the adventures they went together - Now, she has to run away. Ridiculous. "What will you do, Father? You can no longer hide behind the skirts of Athena." Kratos snarled, jumping off of Gaia's back as soon as they reached the peak of Olympus, and he stepped towards the lonesome silhouette of the Mightiest God. "Athena is dead because of the rage that consumes you, Kratos. What more will you destroy? Is it Katrina you wish to kill next? Her innocence? Her selflessness?" he truly knew how to anger him. "The Hands of Death could not defeat me. The Sisters of Fate could not hold me. And you will NOT see the end of this day. I WILL have MY revenge!" Kratos readied his weapons and got into a fighting stance immediately. "Petulant child! I will tolerate your insolence no more!" thus, Zeus jump into the skies and landed on a statue of himself, channeling the fantastic powers of lightning, which he threw at the Mother Titan, making both his son and Gaia fall off the mountain - It was only now, as he was steadily falling off the titan's back, that he realised of her treachery. Once again, he was fooled into believing that the enemy of his enemy was his friend... And friend she was, to the extent of her own life. She was selfish. Had Katrina been there, she could have rescued him - Maybe even that betrayer of a titan. How dare she deny him his revenge? Had he not earned it so? Did he not have every right to it?

No matter. As he was falling to his doom, he began recalling heart-breaking life history. I have lived as a warrior - he thought, recalling the many wars he was in. I have died as a God - he recalled his journey through the underworld and the way he was saved... And how Zeus killed him. Having suffered the ultimate sacrifice - Flashbacks his own blades... His own body, being splashed with the blood of his own wife and child... I have been denied release - the burning shackles placed on his wrists by the Furies, he can still feel, tight on his flesh. I... I WILL defeat Olympus - He vowed, seeing Katrina's sweet smile before his eyes, serving as the last piece of strength that surged through his veins.

I WILL have my revenge!

Thus, he awoke, falling into the River Styx, swimming and fighting his way out of there... Right into the realm of Hades. "We are NOT finished, Zeus." as he stepped foot into the land, he cried out to the skies. "The Gates of Hades have NEVER held me!" however, he heard a voice from behind him - It was familiar, though he never thought he would hear it again. "Death cannot hold those with purpose, Kratos." the voice spoke mystically.  Turning around, he noticed the descending silhouette of the one who was once the Goddess of Wisdom. "Athena...?" "I have missed you, Spartan." if Katrina heard such a bold statement from the one who claimed to be eternally virgin, she would have ripped her lying throat out, especially after having put her beloved through such suffering - Alas, Kratos still felt remorse for having killed one which he had not desired... Again. "I... I don't..." he was rendered speechless. Were his eyes cheated by some spell? Was Athena truly in front of him, even in death? "My sacrifice to save Zeus brought me to a higher existence." she spoke.  "You still appear to be an Olympian." Kratos noticed her magic and attire. "Appearances can be deceiving, Kratos." yes, he remembers his beloved warning him of that many a times. "So can the children of Olympus." he turned his back to her, stepping away.  "Perhaps. But remember - My death came by YOUR blade." he always hated how she twisted the knife and poured salt and alcohol on an open wound. "My blade was meant for Zeus." he turned to face her, reproaching her unsavory statement. "Be quick with your words." he had lost his patience with all the riddles and empty words of the Gods. "As we speak, the war for Olympus rages on, and mankind suffers." Athena warned him greatly. "Let them suffer. The death of Zeus is all that matters." he waved his hand dismissively. "Katrina will be displeased to hear that her hard work is not appreciated. She will have much to work after you are done destroying everything in your path, Kratos." though he knew she was right - Who else but the king Goddess of Nature loved the mortal realm more than her own, and wished for the Olympians to be more selfless and aid the ones in need without any tricks behind? Who, but her, was going to use every bit of her power, trying to bring a-back the great glory of Greece for the mortals, no matter how many aeons took? "Leave her name out of your mouth, Athena! She was right about you all along. I should have listened to you, when she warned me about all your lies and deceits. I have no reason to listen to you." he growled at her, angrily. "Zeus will not fall as easily as Ares. To destroy the King of the Gods, you must seek the source of his strength. The Flame of Olympus." the vision pointed him into the right direction. "You once sacrificed yourself to save Zeus, and now you seek to destroy him? What has brought about this change?" the man was rightful to ask such questions - he crossed his arms to his chest and interrogated the ghost of Athena. She traversed her translucent arm through his torso, taking his blades with her and she passed to his other side. "I see truths where I did not before. Perhaps these will earn back your trust." Kratos knew better than to trust someone whose loyalties and opinions are so feeble. Still, watching her using magic to empower his blades pleased him. "These are the Blades of Exile. They will help guide you on your journey to the Flame." she threw the weapons back into his hands. "Remember - As long as Zeus reigns, there is no hope for mankind. Destroy the Flame, Kratos, and the very foundation of Olympus will crumble." as soon as she disappeared into nothingness, the Spartan was able to go about his journey through the Realm of Hades, so that he can escape. Reaching the very gate of his infernal palace, with a statue of his likeness before it, he heard Athena's voice speaking to him, just as she used to, long ago. With the new magic surrounding his weapons, he could summon a protective phalanx of shields and spears that will drive his enemies back. Once again, he had to rely on his brothers - His brethren - To aid him in this war, as he summoned the spirit of his Spartan brothers.

Through the choir of agonistic shrieks of the ones plummeting down from the sky, he could hear Hades's antagonistic comments. He claims to like listening to his pain. If so, then Kratos is eager to listen to his last breath before he dies. Poseidon's wasn't as satisfying as he had hoped.

Venturing forward, he stumbled upon a note, scrawled by a tortured soul. It read the following - 

"This oppressive darkness is no place for a delicate flower to bloom. Tonight, I honor Hades's request and join his table, but I swear on the morrow, I will leave this foul place with you at my side. Nothing shall keep me from you, my darling Persephone." this had to be a rather ridiculous jest, Kratos thought, ripping apart the note left behind by nothing but a fool, in love with the mere mirage of a good looking woman. How many had to die, because some idiot fell in love with a beautiful, married woman and stole her away?  He had once been a renowned general and tactician for the Spartan army - And to see capable young men, wasting away their lives, and even bring about the downfall of a great Kingdom, it was nothing less than ridiculous. 

Even so, as he walked away, he thought about the first words written - With those, he could agree, though he did not think about the Goddess which he had killed long ago - No, instead, he thought about a Goddess which truly resembled a delicate flower, ready to bloom. It was Katrina. It has always been her. He remembers her braveness as she fought her fears and battled through the Death Domain. He remembers how eager she was to sacrifice her life, for him and Deimos to live. He could not allow her to end in this place. She would wilt away. This was no place for her. He wanted to see her eyes sparkle with life and those beautiful pink lips smiling at him. 

Oft times, he preferred venturing about all alone - It gave him the peace of mind he so desperately needed to process not only the torrent of emotions battling inside of his heart, but the infernal rage that was destroying him from within. Despite all this, he had realised how much he longed to have Katrina by his side. To feel her touch, caressing away all of his pain and offering him the clarity he yearned for so much. He needed to hear that voice, sweet like honeyed ale, as she told him about love stories around Olympus, between Nymphs and Gods... Less so humans, as she did not want to disturb the Demigod-born Spartan.

Miraculously, he was seeking comfort from within, trying to recall one of her stories - Though he knew how much she hated the tragedies, she somehow always ended up telling him how there is beauty is every sad story. He hated sad stories... But all Greeks seemed to revel on such artistry... If they love tragedies so much, then they might as well create a whole theater play, or write a poem book, or even a prose about his life... And love life. Katrina would love that. She would even agree to star as one of the actors. She loved mortals more than any God that had ever graced the world. In fact, if they wanted so, she would write the novel herself, just as she had done for some of Sappho's, once she was in too deep a torment to write for herself.

But Kratos, although described often as a brawns-only man, was enough of an intellectual to hold even philosophical discussions with the Goddess - Although she never was a huge fan of politics and existentialism - However, she did like hearing about his life in Sparta, and how great the people are. He remembers once, when he told her about the Queen of Sparta, called Gorgo, and how confident she was. Though, of course, he had not met her himself, he remembers his mother scolding his brother once when he disrespected her with a bratty attitude, no doubt brought upon by mental and physical exhaustion. His mother told him about a conversation than an Athenian woman had with the Queen that went as follows  - The Athenian woman asked the Queen “Why are you Spartan women the only ones who rule over their husbands?” and the Queen answered “Because only we are the mothers of men”. Though it was not a lesson directed to him, Kratos has since kept it to his heart. Never once had he disrespected any woman, be her of any nationality - And Katrina was very much absorbed by that story that he told her - Maybe it was because he smiled... Or so she said. He did not believer her, yet he could not deny it either.

He wished to remember more, his thoughts were disturbed by a man's voice, calling out for him, from behind a wall of thorns. "I have suffered enough, Spartan." the man... He was Peirithous, the idiot whose note he had read previously. "Hades sentenced me to this eternal torture. My... Prison of tinder! But now that you are here - You can free me!" he called out in desperation. "All I have left is my bow. Please, free me, and it is yours." the idiot strikes a good deal, Kratos thought. But he jumped on one of the large chandeliers, and much to his amusement, the man spoke again. "If you light me on fire, I cannot help you!" as if he ever needed any help from these arrogant fools. "You fool! You'll burn me alive!"  if you cannot save yourself, perhaps it is exactly what you deserve, the Spartan thought, moving a flammable brazier into the right position, deaf to the prisoner's pleas and curses, then unleashed the caged cerberus, which he subdued into spitting flames on the brazier, and thus, not only did he burn away the wall of thorns that jailed the idiot, but he, also, was very much roasted. Now, he was the new owner of the Bow of Apollo. With the aid of its fiery arrows, he will be able to venture forth, behind the walls made by the wilted vines.

Passing through the corridor to reach another chamber, he stumbled upon yet another note. 'The melody... It plays on and will not stop. The voice sings of pain and loss. These things I know too well, but still can bear. It is when the voice sings of hope that I learn true anguish, a longing for that which I can never have.' though he hated to admit, this affirmation, he could relate with, on some points. An abstract voice, creepy and fearsome, was silently disturbing the beautiful humming. 'My child. Have you seen my child?' the disembodied voice asked, though there was no child, no person to ask such a query.

The lullaby stopped as soon as he entered a room filled with enemies which he defeated, and it had not started again, even while outside, climbing on the mountainous wall to reach the Judges of the Underworld, huge statues, holding onto a large chain. Once Kratos reached the plateau, he saw the plate underneath being emblazoned with an inscription. "Those who seek to be judged must first complete the Trials of Erebus."

Reaching a pedestal on which a book was resting, he was able to read the description of the first task.

Trial 1: The Condemned Fueled by fear, the lost from the world above have nowhere to escape from their sins. Defeat all the lost souls and the minions that determine their fate.

How pretentious, Kratos thought. Once again, the arrogance of the Gods pits men against men, as if there weren't enough mortal wars out of greed for conquest, wealth and glory to begin with. As the Spartan massacred soul after soul without a second thought, and being able to pass to the next task, he realised how thankful he was that he did not need to expose the Goddess to such cruelty. She had many many a compromise for him, including stepping onto her own heart and closing her eyes at the suffering of the mortal realm. She needn't see any more of it.

Trial 2: The Lost Why do The Condemned souls of Hades continue to seek salvation, when they are eternally damned? Kill wandering souls before they are converted into Hades's army.

Fight during your whole life, and fight some more even in death - One can never even dream of seeking rest of peace, for the Gods will rake around lost souls and make them fight again and again until there's nothing left of them. Still, his task was far more important than the suffering souls of others, and killing them must have been akin to some peace-bringing, at least. He was doing them a favour, by this point, destroying the shackles binding them to eternal servitude at the feet of Olympians. At least he could now pass to the last trial and get this over with.

Trial 3: The Chosen To enter the Gates of Elysium, more than perseverance and strength is required. Step forward to attempt judgement and prove your worth.  Destroy everything...

Elysium... What a grim reminder of Calliope. A father should never have to bury his child...

After the bothersome trials, the gate went down and Kratos could proceed further. The three statues let go of the chain, and Kratos stood on the disk. The statues spoke. "By the Gods of Olympus and Order of Zeus, we are the Three Judges. Face your final judgement, mortal." even statues made out of stone are arrogant now. "King Aeacus has found you wanting. King Rhadamanthus has found you worthy. It falls to me, King Minos, to make the final decision." this is ridiculous. If he had to destroy these statues, he could have solved the issue much faster. "Your future is cloaked in shadow. The realm of the Afterlife is not yet ready for you. Beyond that door waits your destiny." a door had opened, and Kratos could finally end this charade by passing onto the other side of the portal inside.

Though, as soon as he wound up on the other side, in the distance, he saw another portal, in which he entered. There was a door blocking his way out, but on the ground, he found another note - That of a young soul, this time. "The fires! The people screaming! I was so scared! Why didn't father protect us? The judges say I have to go now to Elysium and that it will be nice there. I miss my family." Kratos couldn't help but wrinkle that note in his hand. Had it not been for a single use of a plural pronoun, he would have been certain the note was written for him, by Calliope. A worse coincidence simply could not happen to him, and now, his heart was weeping once more. How he missed his family as well... 

He had to leave that room faster - And so he did, but on his way, he found many golden statues of children. On one of them, a small wisp of white that called out to him... For 'Father', at least. It was the voice of a young girl who was in need of her father. Out of sheer shock, Kratos knelt besides the small statue which had her arms extended towards him, and looked at the white flame-light light in her palms. "Calliope?" he could not believe it was her, yet his heart was longing to see his child again. "Oh." the young girl was as shocked as he was... Thought neither was satisfied with learning the identity of the one they found. "You are NOT my daughter."  how could he be so foolish as to believe that was his own child... "No. But I know who you are." she spoke to him. "You know of me?" he was incredulous. How could a young child like her know of him? "They said you would come." but before the young girl could speak, she disappeared, for Hades's voice boomed throughout the realm, challenging him - Thus, the Spartan quickened his pace towards his destination. 

Though once again, he picked up another note, of a tortured soul. He was growing tired of their woes - As if he had naught his own to deal with. "He was my responsibility. It was my burden to raise him, teach him right from wrong - All who get too near him suffer of die. His wife, his child, his brother... And now me. I failed him. As a mother, as a human being - His sins are mine to bear. Punish me for his shortcomings and grant my son redemption." 

This must be an awful joke Hades was playing on him, otherwise, there wouldn't be some stupid letter that so perfectly reminded him of his own poor mother who had to die a needless death, and lived a no-life. All because of Zeus. He was going to pay dearly for everything that he has done.

The next note, however, almost brought a chuckle to him - At least, this one, he knew truly that it was about him. "He could have saved me. He held my life in his hands, and he still let go. I may have been just a mere boat captain, but he treated me as if I was nothing! He is to blame for my torment here! I hope he suffers in Hades as I have! Damn that Ghost of Sparta!" of course, now he recalls the ridiculous old man, from whom he retrieved the boat cabin key, only to let him slide down the kraken's throat. And then, he let him fall down to the River Styx. And his soul was brought about again, while he was fighting the undead Barbarian King. What a funny old man.

Venturing forwards and unlocking various puzzling mechanisms, he was able to reach a balcony, and looking outside, into the wasteland, he could see the scorched lands that stretch out as far as the eye can see. The Pit of Tartarus. It did not phase the Spartan. He merely stole a look and went on ahead.  Ahead, however, he found a new wing with stairs to climb - It looked like a Forge, in fact. There, he found a large, hunchbacked God, weeping miserably. "Leave me be! I tell you... I have paid the price!" he cried out pitifully. "Calm yourself, Smith God." Kratos spoke with no malice, though, as the God turned to face him, he saw now how disfigured and ugly he is. No wonder Aphrodite could not stand a marriage with him. He was less a man, and more monster - Though at least his craft was like no other's. "Ghost of Sparta? It is you... Well, well, well... I thought Zeus would have killed you by now." such a weak taunt almost amused the Spartan. "I thought you would have escaped this cavern by now." he shot back with ease. "Zeus may have imprisoned me here, but you are the reason I live in torment." the Olympians truly loved to victimise themselves. "I did you no wrong, Hephaestus. I pursue only one Olympian." but the Smith God rolled the one functioning eye arrogantly. "Well, as long as it's only ONE Olympian..." he had no time for his cheap sarcasm. "I seek the Flame of Olympus. Do you know of it?" Kratos asked, thought the Smith asked for a purpose. "For the purpose I  have chosen. Now tell me - Do you know of the Flame?" "All true children of Olympus know of it. Your little flower girl should know it as well, she always liked stories. I'm surprised she's not here with you... Or maybe she's too afraid that her flowers will wilt here. Can't blame her." the blacksmith let out a sardonic chuckle, easily irritating the Spartan. "We have all come to respect its power - But don't be fooled by its enticing glow. Neither God nor man can touch its lethal flame." "I only need to find it." though... Then what? What was he supposed to do with it? Athena had not told him any farther than that into her phantasmal plan. "If you can find your way out of the Underworld, I am sure you can find your way to the Flame of Olympus." came the empty reply of the mutilated God. "You have been truly helpful, Hephaestus." Kratos turned around to leave, already tired from the nonsensical babble of this God. Once again, he truly pitied Aphrodite, and completely understood why she would run away, in the arms of even someone like Ares. At least he was just useless, not yet another enemy, Kratos thought, as he left Hephaestus's Forge, in search of a way out of Hades's Realm.

Once outside, the man had seen another child statue, and thought he had his own statue impaling the poor bronze silhouette in such a macabre way, he found the child's wisp on her palms, calling out his name, this time. Kratos. Kneeling before her, he began speaking to her - Her form was not quite perfectly visible, but enough to make out the form of a young girl. "How do you know of me?" he asked, unable to understand how a child could know of his... Reputation. "You are the Ghost of Sparta. Everyone knows who you are. Everyone is afraid of you." the little wisp spoke. "There are reasons for that." he admitted. "I'm not afraid of you." her voice was calm and even brave, he'd say, if not, childish and innocent even. Like any child. "It is good you're not afraid, child. Fear is a heavy burden." he admitted, reaching out his hand for the hilt of his sword. "I'm NOT a child, Kratos!" how adorable, came a blank thought as he retrieved his sword. "I does not matter what you are. My concerns lay elsewhere." he spoke, stepping away from the statue. "Kratos, please, I need you to free me!" she pleaded to him, but it was in vain - How can one who cannot free himself, free another? "The quest for freedom is also a heavy burden. I cannot help you." her wisp disappeared upon the arrival of several foes, and though she did not reappear right away, Kratos suspected, this was not the last time he would see her. Once more, closing in to Hades's own halls, he could hear the lulling hum, so soothing, yet so haunting. It somehow reminded him of a tragic love story that Katrina had once told him, while playing the lyre for him, for the first time. She had said it was a gift from Hermes, crafted by himself with his own magic, and that no sweeter song could ever be heard, than from that lyre.

He was sat down on the bed, humoring the woman as she dramatically danced and acted out like an expressive bard as she sang the story of love and woe. There was once a mortal who fell in love with a Nymph - And the Nymph was the most beautiful of them all - Her name, Eurydice. The sweet and pure maid, too, fell in love with the man, the talented Orpheus, who charmed her with his wonderous melodies that he played on his lyre. Kratos remembers now, how Katrina would pretend to be either the man or the woman, and how she's swoon and sigh, or pretend to court her own self, in the mirror. It was a humorous moment. Though the two were loving, merry and happy together, singing and playing and dancing together for years, in a small cottage in the mountains, there had come one day, like many others before, when the sweet Nymph asked the man to play her a lovely tune, which she could hear across the meadow, as she goes to pick up flowers for their home. Here, as Katrina would dance barefoot around the room, it began looking more like a flowery field inside a forest - And she danced her heart and glee away, and for once, Kratos was... Content, seeing her so joyful and living her life through the arts that she loved so much.

Alas, at once, she had fallen through the ground, along with her lyre, and her voice got weak and mournful, just as Eurydice lay her dying breath, bitten by a venomous snake. So distraught was Orpheus upon finding her, that he immediately descended into the Underworld, so that he may plead to Hades to return his sweet Nymph to him, as she was wrongfully taken away from the life of the living. Alas, his begging, nor Persephone's could mellow out the God's heart, so Orpheus took to playing his life's song, that of bliss and grief, of love and pain, of life and death, of beginning and end.

Finally, the God was impressed, even moved, thus he agreed to return Eurydice's soul, but under certain conditions - One must be that the Nymph not speak until she steps foot on the living grass of the Mortal Realm, and second, that Orpheus walks ahead and does not look back - Not even once, not even to steal a tiny peek at her - For should he catch a glimpse of her, the deal is broken, and she returns to the underworld. From here on, Kratos could not focus entirely on her play - It had hurt him, thinking what would it be like, should they have been in that situation, and though Eurydice bid her end of the deal perfectly, Orpheus was a frightened fool, though rightfully suspicious of the Gods. 

But the fool broke the deal, and upon turning to look at his beloved, he saw her smile, and her phantasmal form, disappearing before him. "My love!" the man cried out, leaping to catch the last remaining fume that remained, yet it slipped between his very fingers that once felt her soft, warm skin and held her tightly every morn and every night. Just like Orpheus killed outright doomed the one he loved most, so did he - Of course, without the intention to, but all men must live with the consequences of their own actions, no matter how unpredictable and outlandish they become. Would he have looked? Would he have had the strength to keep on moving forward until the very end of the road, without even as much of a tempting peek? Kratos's heart was hurting, just imaging, losing his beautiful red haired lover. He could not accept the idea that he could hold her lifeless form, just like he had done with Lysandra. He simply couldn't. As he heard the Goddess speak of Orpheus killing himself so that his soul could forever dance, and play and sing with Eurydice, in the Underworld, gracing the Halls of Hades and Persephone during even the bleakest winters, he had rose from the bed and thrown the lyre onto the bed, pulling her into a deep kiss. "Tell me of tragedies no more, Katrina. I wish to hear no further." he needn't explain why, for she knew. Instead, she twirled started humming another song - That of Psyche and Eros, one of the only true love stories where the two lovers fell for each other not for their looks, but for their tender hearts - And this affection inspired so many that even Zeus himself was touched and granted the mortal woman immortality, so that they may forever be together and thrive in their passion.

Though he was a Spartan, and his words, laconic, complete anti-thesis to the beautifully embellished phrases that she sings with every word, he truly hoped that the woman was able to feel that his heart for her was true.

But Kratos could think of those times no longer, as he activated a mechanism, and Persephone's coffin was lowered before his very eyes. The woman almost overthrew Olympus and wanted to kill herself, just to escape this man's unctuous hands, only to be entrapped in a match box for the rest of her damned, dead eternity. A pitiful fate, in life and in death. But his respect for the Olympians was close to non-existent, so he did not care that he used her coffin as a battering ram, to go about solving the machinery brought about by Hades's large statue, which he destroyed. At least Persephone's coffin was aiding him to kill the man she hated so much.

Having entered in this dark room, only a spotlight on his, he could hear the ominous voice of the Lord of the Underworld speaking to him. "Kratos, so glad you could carve out some time for us. You know we need it. I sense some bad blood between us, Kratos. Oh, all the memories. They're overwhelming, really. Let's see... How many sins have you committed against me? Oh, that's right. You murdered my niece, Athena. Turned my other niece, Katrina, against her own family. And what else. What else? Ah, and you killed my brother, Poseidon. And I have not forgotten that it was you who butchered my beautiful Queen! I will see you suffer as I have suffered!" those were the self-absorbed words of a God who could only see his own suffering. What about his mother? His brother? His wife and child? His own home, Sparta? What about HIS suffering? "Your soul is mine." Hades spoke as he latched his chained claws onto Kratos, attempting, yet failing to rip away his soul.

The battle for a soul, though not metaphorically speaking only, but physical as well, was an arduous one, Kratos prevailed, as always, and Hades had his soul stolen away by his very weapons, only after having his own heart ripped away and crushed - And thus, his unarmored body, looking flayed and disfigured like a rotting corpse, was letting loose all the captive souls which attacked his lifeless body. Now, having his soul meant that he could swim the Styx without getting harmed - Excellent addition, though he dearly hoped he would never have to step foot in this forsaken realm, let alone see the succumbed body of the one who was once the God of the Underworld.

The claws were interesting to wield, the Spartan realised, and more, he could summon cursed souls to fight for him. He could see the appeal of them. Finally, he was able to swim away - Swim far, far away, into the nothingness, through underwater tunnels and hidden chambers - Right back into the Forge he arrived, meeting a shocked Hephaestus, especially guessing right that Hades was no more. "The God of the Underworld is dead." Kratos jumped in front of the Smith, out of the water.  "Dead? Ha. Hades deserved to suffer, though I thought his death impossible." the blacksmith admitted. "The Olympians overestimate themselves." Kratos jabbed at him and his whole kin.  "Interesting... I will keep that in mind, Spartan." he noticed that the Spartan was looking at a portal door. "You need the soul of a God to use the Hyperion Gate, Kratos, and that one has not been used for centuries. I'm sure it's beautiful, otherwise I'm sure I would have seen my beautiful..." the God sighed in misery and resentment. "You know, Kratos... I wasn't always like this. A monster. I was once the most prized craftsman in all of Olympus. Zeus rewarded me with my marriage to the beautiful Aphrodite. My mother, Hera, bragged of my talent... But the day you killed Ares was the day my world was torn from me. That day, Zeus became the fiend you now know. Worst of all, he took my beloved daughter, Pandora, my reason for living. I spend my time here, trying to recreate her. I fail. Again and again." Kratos looked up, at the hanging statues of different metals, all of them depicting the same young girl, in different poses. They looked perfectly alike the statues he had found in the Underworld. The wisp he encountered, then, must have been Pandora. "She still lives, Spartan. I can feel it." he spoke. "You... You, Kratos, you can bring her back to me!"  "Your child is not my concern." Kratos cut him off. Pandora may be a child, but he was done doing the bidding of the Gods.  "But surely, you can understand. You were once a father too." still, he walked away. He could not bare hearing anyone mentioning Calliope in any way.

After having left the forge, Kratos made his way outside and followed the path that led him to another portal gate, only to see before him the vision of Athena once more. "Remember your purpose, Kratos." she said. "The Twilight is upon us. His death is out only hope." how mysterious and cryptic, Kratos thought. When he tells Katrina about his encounter, she's going to find a way to rip Athena's ghostly head right off. "Understand this, Athena. Zeus WILL die." and without need to continue a baseless conversation, Kratos stepped on the other side of the portal, escaping the Underworld, and reaching the city of Olympia.

He had only been there for exactly five second, and Helios's chariot had already flown past him, and Gaia's hand slammed on the ground in front of him - And as she rose, she noticed him, speaking as if there was no ill-will between them. Lying, treacherous titan. "You live, Spartan? The Blood of Cronos serves you well. Quickly! You must help me!" and she even had the audacity to ask for help again! "Help? You?" he asked, completely stunned at her nerve. "Yes, child! Quickly! I suffered greatly - I tried to return to battle, but..." excuses upon excuses - That is all that they ever new how to spew. "Without me." spat the Spartan. "You know I had no choice! You must help me!" and help her she did, as he made way to the other side of the road, cutting off her hand's trees and vines that were binding her to the mountain wall. "Kratos, do I mean nothing to you?!"  "You were a means to an end, Gaia. Nothing more." Kratos mimicked her words from their previous encounter, when she had left him to fall to his death. "But I must face Zeus. The Titans must take down Olympus!" she tried to plead to him, but it was no use. "No! This is MY war! NOT yours!" thus, she cut off her hand completely, letting her fall to her doom. Payback for your past actions, Gaia.

Pushing even her severed hand off the cliff to fall with her, Kratos reached the Door to Olympia. Engraved into it, it is said that the doors only open to the worthiest heroes, thus, one must destroy all enemies that stand in one's way. Yet another trial in which he must prove he can kill dozens of enemies - As if killing Gods wasn't enough of a worthy showmanship of power. Ridiculous until the end. He was not innocent of this - The only thing that they were good at was destroying everything in their path - Yet even he grew tired of the bloody path he has been walking for so many decades.

Finally, the doors opened, walked through the temple, only to find himself outside, watching the valiant battle between Helios and one of the Titans who threatened Olympus. He cared little for those two - In fact, he was fine moving along in his search for Zeus, but a chimera jumped on him and the God of the Sun was stupid enough to attack him, so now, he had to retaliate. Using the peculiar contraption before him, he aided the Titan into destroying Helios's chariot, scrunching it into his hand and smashing it against the mountain. Serves him right. Now, he can continue onwards.

Making his way towards the other wing of this city, walking along the mountain's wall and defeating more enemies, he jumped down a plateau, where he found Helios, bloody and deathly injured, yet with what looked like ghostly soldiers taking a famous Spartan defending position, with their shields protectively, like a tortoise shell, and their spears out, ready to attack. Helios had no right to use his people's strategies.

With ease, Kratos controlled the cyclops that appeared out of nowhere, to destroy the phalanx formation, and killing the foes, only the broken God remained, spitting blood on the ground. "Kratos. I have not forgotten the debt I owe you. Save me now, as you once saved me from Atlas, and I promise to repay you in full." the Gods' tongues know no shortage of lies and empty words.  "If you wish to repay me, tell me where I can find the Flame of Olympus." Kratos tried, but it was clear where his loyalties waited. "The Flame? You will never defeat Zeus, Spartan. You will forfeit your life in trying." the broken God had no place making a mockery of Kratos's resolve, while his lower part was broken beyond repair. "Of all the lives you should worry about, Helios, mine is not one of them." though the Spartan did not expect that, with his last powers, Helion would invoke the power of the Sun, blinding him. He had to keep his face hidden and move forwards into the white light, and once he reached the God, he stomped on his head until he started yielding.  "Wait! Wait! I can tell you that to destroy Zeus you must step into the Flame to receive its power!" lies - And such obvious ones. What a brainless fool. He had more than one chance to yield and be spared, yet he spat on his mercy, and thus, he will be killed. "You lie, Helios! Hephaestus told me the Flame kills all who touch it!" the look on his face was comical, in his desperation. What the Greek would call a Tragedy. "And you believe him?! That freak has fallen from the graces of Olympus!" all the more reason to take his word over this one's. "That is exactly why I believe him." Kratos worded his thoughts.  "My death will not lead you to Zeus. In fact, maybe you should find a way and reach him faster. Weren't you the one who corrupted Katrina into losing her mind and choosing the wrong side in this war? Zeus captured her and is torturing her for information on you. Good luck finding her before she dies, Spartan." Helios grinned, though his powers were dissipating.  "That is where you are wrong, Helios. I believe not a word that you speak." as revenge for all the lies, Kratos ripped the God's head, as painfully as humanly possible - Then stared up into the sky, watching as the Sun dissolved before his very eyes, and the night took over, along with endless rain.

Using the light emanating from his head, Kratos found a hidden door which was leading inside a cave, towards the Path of Eos. They say that those who see what the Gods see shall find the Path to Olympus. Katrina would know more about this - In fact, she would easily guide him all the way to Olympus. Alas, he could not help but worry greatly about her safety. Surely, she couldn't have truly been captured. There was no way she would have allowed herself to being imprisoned so easily. Still, it was Zeus they were talking about, she had no chance against him. But Helios was a shameless liar and only wanted to lay down a trap for him. 

Deep inside the cave, towards a more suspiciously illuminated area, Kratos found another one of Pandora's statues, and the wisp was awaiting him. "Kratos! It's getting close!" "I told you. I cannot help you." he almost sounded dejected at the notion of allowing a child to be in danger. "But you're the only one who can. I know it. I trust you!" she pleaded to him dearly.  Not even her sweet voice was able to mellow him out... For now. "You shouldn't." he advised her, as he moved forwards, using harpies to fly across certain regions of the cave, and he floated up the Chain of Balance with the help of the old wings of Icarus, jumping outside and ending up on the same titan's eye, only to easily push him off the mountain as well. No God, nor Titan will stand in his way of defeating Zeus, nor will they have the opportunity or satisfaction to even attempt such a feat.

Finally, he had reached the Caverns, a place with numerous hanging cubes... And the soothing melody was echoing even through this place... So it had not been some entity of the Underworld... Maybe he was hearing Katrina, and his ears or mind were just making up things on the go, because he was missing her so? For a few moments, he stopped thinking about his beloved so that he could focus on solving the cube mechanism, only to reach the highest one and meet... Yet another God. Hermes, of all of them. He turned to face him, and he held that very annoying, cocky smirk. How could Katrina hang around such a bloke, and even say she liked him? It was beyond his imagination.

"Oh, look who it is. Kratos, the Ghost of Sparta. The Fallen God. The Cursed Mortal." Hermes's taunting was as ridiculous as his voice. "To catch a fly from the ass of Zeus is not worth my time, Hermes." Kratos warned the God. "A coward's words, Kratos. You don't try to catch me because you know you can't. In fact - No one can." with that smug face of his, he immediately ran up the chain, and sat down, dangling his feet like a bratty child. "Kratos, where are you off today? Kill any family members lately? Oh, that's right, you're off to kill your father, Zeus." that laugh was getting on his nerves, and even for Katrina's sake, he wouldn't be able to stop himself from gutting this bastard like a fish. "Won't happen. Can't happen. Kratos is on a fool's errand. Again!" and he ran up the chain until the Spartan couldn't even see him anymore. "Never - Never learn~! Never - Never... Change! Kratos, the fool who killed his own blood! Kratos the fool among mortals and Gods! Forever - Ever cursed! Forever - Ever doomed!" with how dramatic his gesticulating is, he could at least see where the Goddess learnt to act her plays. "Consumed by vengeance to his last breath, the Spartan lights the way to dusty death!" with even more laughter, the stupidly annoying God ran up the entire chain, and Kratos started climbing after him. Forgive me for going to kill your friend, Katrina, but he cannot be allowed to live. He was able to reach the end of the chain, which brought him to the chamber that held the Flame of Olympus, though kept blocked and entrapped. Looking inside, he could see the old Pandora's Box, which he opened long, long ago. His hand instinctively reached to touch the Box, only to be stopped by the ghost of Athena. "What is the meaning of this?" Kratos asked, aggravated.  "Your eyes do not deceive you, Kratos. It is the same box you opened years ago. The power to kill a God rests inside." Athena spoke, yet everything she said, was old news. "I released those powers when I killed Ares." Kratos stated obviously.  "No. Trapped inside that box, there is a stronger power. It has been missing from the world." she had informed him solemnly. "It all began when Zeus triumphed over the Titans in the Great War. Zeus understood that the evils born from the battle, if left free, would destroy the world of man and Gods. To contain these evils, Zeus commanded Hephaestus to build a vessel strong enough to hold them. Fear. Greed. Hate. He locked them all away in the box in hopes that they would never again infect his reign. When you opened the box to kill Ares, you drew from the forbidden powers. After witnessing your victory, fear gripped Zeus." Athena's story now made sense. "But the Flame is deadly. How can I recover the box?" like any problem, there is a solution. "With its namesake, Kratos." Kratos called out the child's name without even realising. "She is the key to destroying the Flame. The key to our revenge. This will be difficult, Spartan." "A simple child will not trouble me, Athena." Kratos's resolve was set in stone... But could he truly sacrifice an innocent child, so easily? "I hope you are right, Ghost of Sparta. May you let nothing and... No one... Hinder your judgement." the Spartan needn't be told what the vision was referring to - He knew that Katrina would be vehemently opposed to sacrificing a child for something like this - And rightfully so. Still, Zeus had to be killed.

The man went outside onto the balcony to scour the area - Though lonesome, it was... Sad. The world was plunged in chaos and mankind had to pay the price dearly, for the death of Poseidon, Hades and Helios.  Kratos did not care though. Forever night, forever rain, forever wind - He cared little for everything, except ending his father's life. Floods have swallowed the lands and the sky is veiled by clouds and unbridled storms. Let the chaos reign.

With the new knowledge about the Flame, Kratos was able to find his way, by using the Light, to a mural of the Muses - In music, untold truths be spoke to those willing to hear it. Join your voice to the Muses's song and lift Olympus's burden. - Said the engraving before the painting... If Katrina were here, things would have been much simpler. The mural next to it depicted the Gear of Burden - With the weight of Olympus upon it, the Gear of Burden is not easily moved, requiring a great sacrifice to free the Heart of the Labyrinth. The next one spoke about the Heart of the Labyrinth - Beating in the Heart of the Labyrinth is a passion great enough to douse even the Flame of Olympus, and lay bare the power that lies within.

As Kratos finished reading the engraving, he heard that annoying voice again. "You may have brute force, but you lack speed." that pest claimed, laughing, mocking and running amok. "You've been lucky in battle, Spartan. But your luck ends today." Hermes smirked, playing around with his coin. He could barely phantom that he was forced to go against the man that his own wife loved so dearly - It was ridiculous. He could care less about the Spartan's life, but he feared hers, should Kratos truly meet his end during this quest. "What makes you think you can ever catch me?" though he taunted and ran away, hoping to tire down the Spartan, Hermes could only think of his coin - Heads for the Gods, Tails for Kratos...  And the third option. What was the third option? Was there even a third option? He tried and tried, but he could thinking of nothing that would work in both their favours, especially as he made the Spartan ran about the Olympian Citadel, and made fun of him for being so slow. He told Kratos that no one could reach his speed - But he lied. Of course he did, that's what he did best, after all! Even so, there was one person alone who was ever capable of being a worthy opponent while playing Tag.

Katrina.

He remembers, as very young children, how he would watch her constantly running - Mostly, running away from the Olympians who were mocking her. Was it her lineage? Her mother - Whoever that may have been? Was it how lovesick she was - But wasn't Aphrodite the same? Perhaps it must have been how shy she was? Or that she preferred the company of flowers and animals over her own kin? Poor child. Still, she kept running, down in the mortal realm's forests, running with the animals and practicing her nature-creating powers and what not. 

Since then, when they were mere children, Hermes was watching her dearly - And it was then, that he started speaking to her and challenged her to tag games and speed contests - Though, his cocky attitude did not bode well with her low self-esteem and she thought that he hated how, just like everyone else... But that was not the case. She was able to find her own niche of friends, from Anteros and Aphrodite, Eros and Psyche, Hestia, Demeter and even Hekate, Asclepius, Hebe, and Apollo and Artemis. She could see the appeal in overly social interactions and fun-having at parties, she simply could not partake in it, despite even being jealous of him and Dionysus and how much fun they had drinking and jesting around.

Alas, Hermes always thought, the good are always the one being trampled over by the corrupt - And he was no different. He often tricked Katrina, and even abused her benevolence as she never got angry at him and continued to aid him with whatever it was that he needed... With time, however, he started to appreciate and see the wrong in his ways, thus, showing her how to catch up with him while running.

And she did.

Together they could run around the world with no problem, and still have enough energy to play around. Ah, the good times, when she would still offer him that sweet giggle of hers... Ah - Ah - Ah, no time for memories, he is about to fall down the great statue of Athena - What an annoying character she is, even in death.  Hermes was now feeling fatigue take over him - Though the Spartan was nowhere close to matching his speed, his tricks worked into tiring him in the long run. "I will not be bested by a mortal...!" he cried out, realising that the he was facing the exact dilemma of his coin - Even now, he did not look upon it. Was it Heads? Was it Tails? In truth, he was afraid of seeing what it was. 

If it was Heads, he would kill Kratos, and he would have to see the distraught look on Katrina's face - Because her own husband killed the love of her life. The one over whom she had wept for a century. The one who was promised to her since the beginning of life itself.

On the other hand, if it was Tails... He will die. He wasn't even sure if she would weep over him, yet the mere notion that she agreed to be his wife, allowed him to shower her with affection, in spite of not being her real soul mate... The fact that she gave him the opportunity of seeing all the beautiful and silly sides of her, the jests, the stories, the songs, the dances and the plays... All the gossips they shared, and the games they played... He wanted to see her one last time, at least. He was greedy and selfish - He was, after all, a God of Olympus - That is how all Gods were!

But Kratos's blades were heavy on him, and he could see his vision blurring from the pain he was feeling. "I thought Spartans fought with honour, and yet you seek to kill me, when I have no means to defend myself? Not fair." he whined, looking up with spite at the Spartan, only to avert his eyes and see the blood - HIS blood - spilled on the ground. "But you have your own sense of honour, right, Kratos? And what has the honour brought you?! Nothing but nightmares of your failure!" Hermes was able to pull himself back on his feet, ready to try, for the last time, to outrun his opponent, despite how exhausted he felt.

This was the Messenger God's last marathon ran - It was the only thing he was truly great at. Running. He may be the God of many things - Thievery, sea men, trade, whores, humankind and whatever - But, beyond everything, his speed was worth more than him. It was almost pathetic to think that his worth was measured in how great the boots made him. "Today you may defeat me, but in the end, Kratos - In the end, you'll betray only yourself and Katrina!" he could hear the Spartan approaching with rapid footsteps - There it is, he was doomed to die on the slippery grounds of Olympus, outside, in the pouring rain. How absolutely pitiful. 

"STOP!" what was that voice...? 

Suddenly, Hermes fell to the ground, tackled... But the force was nothing compared to that muscle head's. "How could you...?" Katrina? "HOW COULD YOU DO SOMETHING SO STUPID?!" he had never heard her screaming before. It was absolute frightening... No, rather, is was heart breaking. "Katrina? What -... You are alright." the Spartan spoke, looking down at the woman, looking in perfect shape, except for the forlorn expression on her face - She looked desperate. "Yes, of course I am! Ever since I saw you falling, I tried to look for a way to contact you. Hestia was too afraid to try to portal trick again... In truth, there was no one to dig a whole reaching there either. So I went to Hekate, who showed me your journey there. I was so afraid for you that I could not leave her until I saw you stepping out of there." though she spoke to him, her arms were holding the Messenger God, and trembling visibly. "I am happy to see you are alive, my love. I truly am. But please, tell me... Why are the two of you trying to kill each other?" her voice was soft that, through all the thundering and roars of the rain, it could have easily been missed. "He stood in my way." came Kratos's reply. The red head turned her head to look at the God in her arms, who looked as guilty as never expected. The Spartan was genuinely impressed.  "Zeus made me!" the cowardly God latched his arms around the girl. "You know how scary he can be! I tried, you know? I tried, I truly did! But no one truly knows what happens what Olympus falls. I was afraid for our home, Kat! You believe me, don't you? Please, tell me that you do or I will cry!" but the more he spoke, the more disappointed and pained the girl looked.  "You are a fool, Hermes. You truly are." she spoke, hanging her head. "There are enough people who died from less. Have you also taunted Kratos? No, tell me naught, I am sure you did." Kratos could see the remorse and shame from being reprimanded by the woman holding him. What exactly was the relationship between those two? "Kat - No, please, don't cry. No, no, no, Gods, no, don't cry -- Kitty? Sweety? Princess? My dear? Honey? Angel? My flower?" Hermes was panicking, seeing the Goddess unable to contain the tears falling down her face, mixing perfectly with the rain drops.  "Enough." her voice was broken, and so was he. "Hermes... That is enough. You have done it. Have I not told you not to mess with Kratos? Did you think I was messing with you? Even after everything... You think you can go around and make fun of him... And live with such offense?" gradually, her trembling voice was raising. "I WAS TRYING TO PROTECT YOU FROM YOURSELF, YOU ABSOLUTE IDIOT!" her yelling so distressed made his mind spin like a vertigo. "TO HELL WITH ZEUS! TO HELL WITH OLYMPUS! TO HELL WITH ALL OF YOU, AND EVERYTHING!" she pushed him away, standing up. "WHAT ABOUT ME?!" the woman asked. "WHAT ABOUT ME, HERMES?! WHEN IS IT MY TIME TO BE HAPPY?! ALL OF YOU - ALL OF YOU, SELFISH BASTARDS - YOU WERE ALL HAVING YOUR FUN AMONGST THEMSELVES, AND I SAID NOTHING! SO WHY -- WHY MUST EVEN YOU GO AGAINST MY HAPPY ENDING?!" she surely did not realise, but angry liana were swinging around her. She was lost in her emotions. "You - You, of all people, knew how much Kratos means to me -- And you, my own husband - You tried to KILL him?! What about all the promises you made to me that day? When you promised to be by my side, for as long as I'll have you? That you'll take care of me, and make me smile, and all of those empty lies you gave me?! And our friendship when we were children -- Hermes -- Was everything just a game for you?! An elaborate ploy to continue making fun of me?! Were you -- Were you telling the other Gods about how gullible that stupid flower girl is? Did you tell them what we were doing together? The songs me made? The silly jokes and cheesy confessions? The dramas and the... Was everything... A lie?" now, he had a clear picture of her life. Katrina never told him that she was married to Hermes, nor did she ever show any ounce of romance towards the man. By the looks of it, she merely saw him as her friend, and in need of comfort, she accepted his affections. But it did not bode well with him, seeing her so hurt over his actions. Kratos was not going to kill Hermes, should he not have provoked him or stood in his way. It was a tragic situation - Once again, there is nothing but suffering following them. "NO! No - Kat - NO! None of that was ever a lie! I swear to you - I vow, I... I everything! I will do anything, as long as I can prove to  you that I was being genuine through everything! I am happy that you are my wife, and I am fine, knowing that you love another man - It's fine! I knew you two were meant together. I resigned myself to that long ago! I had fun, I always did, and you are the person dearest to me! Please believe me!" to see a God, on his knees, pleading and begging like that, was truly a sight to behold. "You were my best friend, Hermes... Why did you have to ruin everything?" she asked, unable to even look at him. "Please, Kat, please forgive me. I never meant to hurt you. I swear to you, I did not know what to do! I flipped my coin, but a coin has only two faces! Heads was that Zeus wins and Kratos dies, which only meant I would live to see you hurt -- But Tails meant Kratos killed us all, and I would never get to see you again! What could I have done?! I was confused and afraid, just like all of us are!" the man was groveling on the ground - The Spartan wanted to step forward and end it, but the Goddess's vines stopped him. "And what side did you see?" Katrina asked, looking down at him with such a stoic, apathetic look, that one might have said she was a statue. "...I did not look. I was too afraid of the outcome." the God admitted, guilty. "Men must live with the consequences of their own actions. But men are not tied to fate - Men MAKE their own fate. They create their own path, and walk that way. You chose a side of the coin without even realising. In your head, you chose Heads from the very beginning. You are afraid of death and of losing the luxurious, happy life which you have thrived on. Am I wrong?" neither men heard her speak with such edge before. It was frightening how even the kindest can be brought to the end of her limits. "... Not entirely. I tried to think of a third option, but... I found nothing that worked." there was silence for a while - And Katrina extended her hand, so that Hermes would give her his coin. As soon as the little golden one was in her hand, she used her liana to rip away the shoes from his feet and handed them to Kratos.  "You will not be in need of them anymore. Be grateful I gave you no pain. Kratos would have cut off your legs entirely." she spoke, feeling the Spartan take away the winged sandals. "On the other hand... I had already thought of a third option for you. Will you hear it?" she asked, kneeling before him. Seeing him desperate for her, she opened her palms, revealing the coin. Kratos was confused about all the metaphor around that pesky coin - Only to see her morph the golden coin into a beautiful flower, which she put into the God's fiery hair. She had forgiven him. It meant that, once again, a God's fate was in his hands. Hermes was outright sobbing on the ground, groveling at her feet, clinging onto her desperately.  "PLEASE DON'T LEAVE ME! KAT, PLEASE, I NEED YOU! I NEED YOU IN MY LIFE! YOU ARE THE LOVE OF MY LIFE! MY BEST FRIEND! MY SWEET, LITTLE KITTEN! PLEASE --" but the Goddess stepped away from him. "Kratos... If you love me... Then please, do not kill him. He will not hinder you again. I can promise you that." she did not look back at him, but as a response, he only grunted. It was a nuisance, but he needed nothing more from the overly loud God. "Perhaps our paths will meet again. Until then... Better find a way down the Mountain... Before it goes down... Like everything else in life, that is." her voice was devoid of any joy or emotion - She seemed... Someone else entirely.

Kratos looked down at the broken man, calling out to Katrina desperately and seeking forgiveness. The Spartan did not need to kill Hermes. Hermes has already killed himself. Kicking him aside, Kratos stepped past him and joined Katrina's step - Yet she did not speak. She seemed... Tired. And Angry.  He was afraid of what would happen, should the both of them be vengeful and filled with rage, letting that cloud their judgement. Usually, if something were to happen, she were the rational one. Alas, he knew that, with everything going on, he could not afford to teach or level out someone's anger, when he, himself, could not control his own.

"What troubles you?" Kratos asked, continuing to walk up and down across the palace with ease, thanks to the winged sandals. "I have realised something that displeases me greatly." she spoke. "During my stay at Hekate, she has shown me your trip. I have seen Athena. She is more disgusting and treacherous now than she was before." the woman spat, speaking of her sister. Soon, they reached the Flame of Olympus once more. "Secondly... I have realised that... Once you opened the Box... Not even I was spared from the awful fate... Of being inflicted with out of the dreads locked inside. And it has clouded my judgement since the fall of Ares. I am upset that I have not come to my senses sooner. I do not want to hinder your journey." she continued explaining. "But I have been battling my misery since then. Now I understand why I was so desperately afraid of losing you, or Hermes or any of my friends. Why I was so afraid of being alone. I was being selfish. And greedy. Now, more than ever, because of Pandora's Box. How pitiful to think that the Mighty Gods of Olympus could fall pray to such a silly concept." it was clear for Kratos that her woes were hammered deep within her very core. "You had no way of knowing. No one did. Do not blame yourself for something like that." Kratos spoke, reaching out his hand to touch her shoulder, squeezing it for reassurance. "The two of us will not die this day, and I have not killed Hermes, nor will I your friends, should they not get in my way. There is nothing to be afraid of anymore." he noticed her gulping and hanging her head, her brows furrowed, though she nodded, accepting his sage words. "I know. Mentally. Rationally. I know. Even so, my heart... It feels like a restless vortex that will not stop. And... It hurts. This hurts makes me do ridiculous things. I cannot understand why this happens. Perhaps if we kill Zeus and open Pandora's Box again, this... Whatever this is, will disappear. What do you think?" she asked, almost as if she had hope.  "It is a possibility - And if does not happen, I will find a way." his words must have had an impact on her, for she snapped her head towards him and her eyes were desperately searching for the truth in his eyes - Though, as always, she found it. "Truly? Do you think I can finally find peace within myself when this is all over?" she found herself in his embrace once more - And for the short time that she was in the safe haven that she found in his arms, she felt just that. Inner peace. "Of course."

< Previous Chapter Next Chapter >

[rorschachisgay]

i find reading 4chan posts absolutely fascinating in a like anthropological study way. everyone on that site has something horrifically wrong with them but there's a clear dividing line between people who are managing their lives but hang out on there because they are also unbelievably racist vs people who know theres something wrong with them and with the world but cant cope with it and get encouraged by the site to sink deeper into their own misery. i think there was a point in time when there were people on 4chan who werent reprehensible human beings but we're long past that point and now its just purely egregiously awful.

but there is something so interesting about it as a like hive of human suffering. no one on there is like actually happy with their lives. sometimes you get those posts like the turtle one i just reblogged that are kind of beautiful in their earnest appreciation for life and that we can all empathise with but there's no doubt in my mind that every single other post that user has made is like talking about the pussy phrenology of different anime girls.

you have this very specific type of person who is completely disaffected by society and is deeply isolated, either has no real friends or no one he feels close with enough to be actually honest with, understands that the system we live in is broken and that he himself is a broken person, but has chosen to concentrate all that anger and misery into becoming the most hateful version of themselves possible. probably doesn't even see it as a choice because he doesn't see immediate reward for making the most minute amount of effort to improve his life, so assumes that it's totally helpless. and that's not to say they don't live in circumstances that do make profound change incredibly difficult because i have seen that some of them do, but there's also a refusal to stop being in online spaces that are actively encouraging you to destroy yourself.

there's this very specific type of person you get, which is someone whose rage and misery comes from their own narcissism. they are convinced they are smarter, better, more worthwhile than everyone around them, that everyone they know is a moron and a worthless person. but they themselves see no success and no happiness in their own life, despite the fact they feel they deserve better. and because they know they're the best person alive but they're also a failure by their own metric, they become hateful both internally and externally. obviously to some extent we all feel something like this, we all at one point or another get stuck in a shitty job or shitty class or shitty family that is holding you back and you're with genuinely bad people. but with this case, with this kind of real internalised hatred, your anger escalates outside of just immediate irritating coworkers, there's this genuine pure and unbridled hatred and rage for everyone around you for experiencing any kind of earnest and genuine emotion in the face of your own misery.

and that kind of mindset is an epidemic on 4chan, that each of them deserves more and that they despise anyone who feels anything earnestly. they're not really capable of escaping their own cynical hatred. unsurprisingly you see this a lot with white supremacists and misogynists, since most if not all 4chan users are also white supremacists and misogynists, where their whiteness and maleness should automatically make them the superior but they aren't successful and therefore there must be some other reason, some kind of conspiracy against them. there's this constant awareness on 4chan that the system is fucked but they're also unable to put the pieces together because of their own bigotry and their own refusal to see that they might be wrong.

it's interesting to me because on one level there's things I understand; i have been profoundly lonely and isolated almost my entire life, i feel disenfranchised by the terrible system we live in, i love the movie Drive. i can also sometimes understand the desire to make yourself as reprehensible to outsiders as possible, to become some kind of truly vile thing to make everyone who doesn't understand feel ill and uncomfortable and awful. but i also can never understand everything else, the deep-seated true venomous hatred for all humanity, the bigotry, the total close-minded determination to be miserable. it's like looking through some kind of hideous black mirror of what life could be like if i didn't grow up being taught feminist theory and anti-racism. because i don't think there's any single innate trait that proves you can or can't be one of these people, it takes effort. you have to work to expand your knowledge, to open your mind, to keep trying. you have to be able to accept when you're wrong. you have to choose to care about people.

but like i said i do read a lot of these posts and it is always fascinating to me how much these people try to escape their humanity but are so human in doing so. there's something kind of Sisyphean about it.

there was a trend back in the 2012s on here to talk about 4chan like it was full of leet dark hackers and at some points in time there have definitely been people on there who know how cybersecurity works and how to get around it, but as of this present year in the 2020s, the userbase seems to be almost entirely just the most pathetic, saddest part of humanity imaginable. i assume that has a lot to do with the shifting userbase, the website changing hosts and domains and owners, etc, and the different face of the internet now. mostly now i think they're just profoundly sad.

and its like. I do find these people fascinating. but they are also so fucking unbelievably mind-numbingly boring. they will never produce anything true or beautiful because they are so fucking scared of feeling and of people. they will just sit alone for their entire lives believing that if it's going to get better it will only be because of someone finally recognising their genius.

i don't know if you can or can't help them. I don't really see it as our duty to do so. if someone is a nazi for their entire young adult life i don't think any of us should have to fix that for them. I think if the system we live in is changed it will also make life better for them, because it will make life better for everyone, but i don't particularly want to assign the duty of "we NEED to help these poor racist white men" to anyone. i understand how people get in these positions but it's the same issue again and again. a total refusal to take any action out of a sense you should not be inconvenienced, people should hand stuff to you.

i have no real deeper conclusion here. i just find something really strange and interesting about looking at a post about seeing a beautiful spark of hope for humanity and knowing that that same person, the day before, wrote about how he intentionally shit himself in public to try and make a woman on the bus uncomfortable.

[larabiatasstuff]

Hello @larabiatasstuff please could I request something about karate kid terry silver? Could we maybe be bestfriends with him but both secretly in love, and one day when your both working at the dojo, your ex boyfriend barges in and demands to see you, and wants to get back together. Your not in the room, but you can hear your ex talking shit about you and terry is saying the most wonderful things about you and completely shutting him down. When he makes him leave, you end up going to terry and sharing a romantic moment with him? Thanks 💙

That's a very lovely request anon 🖤 Of course I write you a scenario about him. ����

Terry and I were working together at the dojo today.John had his day off so it was just the two of us.But I didn't mind, Terry and I were best friends for a few years and I had to admit that I had a little crush on him, well maybe more than just a little. "And he just leaned back and before I could tell him that the chair was broken he fell over." Terry said "Oh no, did you help him up at least?" "Of course, after I finished laughing. You should have seen it Y/N it was hilarious." "Terry! John could have hurt himself. You're unbelievable. Seems we're almost finished. I just take the dummy in the back and we can close for today." I said "You sure you you got this?" Terry asked. "Shut up Silver I'm fine." with that I went in the back. I just put the dummy down when I heard the front door and a familiar voice. "Where is she?" it was my ex. "First of all we're about to close for today and..." Terry started "Okay you seem a little slow huh? I asked where Y/N is." "Well since you're not together anymore I think it's none of your business." I heard Terry say "Listen asshole I don't need your permission to get that little slut out of here." Yes he was my ex but hearing those words still hurt. Suddenly a loud thud was heard, I looked through a little door crack and my eyes went wide. Terry had my ex pinned against the wall. "Now you listen you little shit don't you dare talk about Y/N like this in front of me. She's the kindest, most wonderful woman I've ever met, she always cares for everyone else before she takes care of her own needs. That woman doesn't deserve to be treated like this. You had your chance with her and you fucked up big time. She was way out of your league anyway. I always wondered what such a beautiful soul wanted with someone like you. So here's the deal, you will stay away from my dojo and you will stay away from her. You won't speak to her, you won't look at her, you won't even breathe the same air as her. If I catch you near her again or even just have the suspicion you could be near her, I'm coming for you and you will never know when it hits you. Now get the fuck out of my dojo." I had tears in my eyes from all the wonderful things Terry said about me,he was my best friend but I had no idea he thought about me like that. As soon as I heard the door close I came out of my hiding spot. Terry stood there shaking his head, then he noticed me "Y/N I..." he started but I didn't let him finish. "Did you mean that? Everything you said about me did you mean that?" I asked the tears now running down my face. "Oh Y/N don't cry. Come here. Of course I mean that. You're such an amazing person and you mean so much more than just a friend to me if I'm honest." he looked deep into my eyes "Terry..." "It's totally fine if you don't feel the same but I needed to get that off my chest. I like you a lot Y/N." he said wiping my tears away. "I actually feel the same Terry, for a long time. I just didn't know how to tell you cause I didn't want to destroy our friendship." Terry gave me a warm smile "You can't imagine how happy I am right now Y/N. Is it... would it be okay if I kissed you?" I just nodded and in a second his soft warm lips were on mine. I've never been kissed like that before, with so much emotion and love it was the best feeling in the world. "Does this mean you're my girlfriend now?" Terry asked after we broke the kiss "I'd love to be your girlfriend Terry."

[frankwestpfahl]

As we pull back the curtains from our slumber we are greeted with spectacular views of the monastery and fortress on the hill in Würzburg. The sun is shining and although it is an early morning it's going to be an incredible day. We head down to breakfast, a little earlier than normal, as there is a lot to see and do today, and today is the day I've been most looking forward to on this voyage.

After breakfast we meet our guide and head up to the spectacular Residenz in Würzburg. This massive palace was built for the Prince Bishop and has treasures to marvel like Versaille. It seems like everyone with any amount of power wanted to copy Versaille.

Würzburg was almost completely destroyed during the war and this includes this magnificent palace, however, miraculously there were three unbelievable rooms that survived and the art is amazing. We cover the incredible frescos and symbolism. Even the crystal chandeliers made in Vienna are stunning and only cost about $1M per chandelier today...

War is such an ugly thing and the atrocities of the second world war can never be underestimated, but to see the actual destruction and to learn the stories, I hope it is something we can stop around the world.

We then head out into the cold to explore this beautifully rebuilt city along the river Main. The shops, the markets, are all fantastic. We even find an incredible men's department store and almost do some damage, but good news, most items are designed for younger men with much smaller waists. Crisis averted, I avoided a spending spree.

We stop for a quick lunch aboard the beautiful Avalon Visionary and have lunch with some additional new friends from Canada. What a treat. We have such a fun discussion about the world, that we almost lose track of time. We bolt off to change quickly and board our coach.

Next stop, the city I really wanted to see at Christmas time. Rothenburg ob der Tauber is an amazing medieval village and I had the privilege of visiting with friends in 2006 during the summer. Now to see it with all the beautiful Christmas decorations, the Christmas market, the amazing Christmas store and museum and just for us an incredible blanket of snow of the entire city and valley.

Not only were the tourists like us capturing pictures, but the locals including our guide, as it is not common here to have a white Christmas. Marty and I just stroll the streets and take in the atmosphere, architecture, and overall Christmas cheer. We stay long enough for the city to light up with the warm glow of holiday lights along the streets and windows. This really was an amazing highlight of the trip. I wanted to bring back a million new ornaments from the Christmas Store Käthe Wohlfahrt. Käthe owns this town, with the main massive store, but also several others. You can't help but be drawn in like a small kid to the music, the glittering ornaments, the moving items and the giant nutcrackers.

After a short nap on the coach back to the ship. We have time to change quickly and head to our talk about the next day and of course the morning of disembarkation. Tomorrow is going to be a fantastic day to relax, we will be sailing in the morning and learning how to bake cookies, we then visit a very small village and sail again throughout the evening to our final stop of Frankfurt am Main. I'm looking forward to that.

Our group has now grown to a party of 12 so we head to the restaurant to try to get tables all together and after some rearranging we are all set. We still need to include two more, hopefully tomorrow night. After hysterical conversation and laughter and a very leisurely dinner we head up to the lounge for some entertainment. Tonight we have a violinist that will be playing show tunes and other incredible genres. He is fantastic and we just relax and enjoy ourselves.

Look at that, it is already way past my bedtime. Time to head to dream land and replay all the amazing blessings of the day. I hope you are having an amazing holiday season and slowing down to enjoy all the spectacular magic and wonder this time of the year brings. Wishing you a very good night from the river Main in Germany. Guten Nacht, schlaf gut.

.

.

.

#ttvvf&m #selfie #justfrank #tweedles'travels #vacation #vacation2022 #urlaub #urlaub2022 #reise #spaß #friendship #adventure #2022 #fernweh #video @marty.reynoldsohana #fall #december #germany #deutschland #Würzburg #RothenburgobderTauber #flusskreuzfahrt #AvalonWaterways #avalonvisionary

[lemonysnicket]

whats ur favorite raconteurs story + why 👀 👀

HELLO THANK YOU FOR MAKING MY DAY WITH A RACONTEURS ASK!!! this is so hard because it's nearly impossible to choose a favorite; i love the entire book front to back and adore eveerryyy single page. but!! some do really stick out to me. i guess i'll just rant about my few favorites. i think i need to separate them, though, because they destroy me in different wayyyys. i could talk about all of them for a million years. here are some of my faves in no particular order

the first twin's tale/the whalebone spring!! out of all of the more standard short stories in this book, this one sticks out to me. the first time i read it, i was so unnerved by the ending. something about the whole story had such an indescribable horror to it. i think about it a lot honestly - deacon and morvengarde always make me explode a little bit, and it's honestly such a brilliant and rich piece of world building that permanently sticks out to me in every single nagspeake book as just...so cool, and so scary, and so intriguing. and despite it appearing in nearly all of the stories in this book, for some reason the whalebone spring just encapsulates the feelings so perfectly. the way the story is told is also so chilling - props to reever for that one. love him. i think a really interesting part of the way raconteurs is told is that each story, despite being kate milford's lovely vivid writing each and every time, still captures the voice of the character telling it, and you can always learn so much about them just from how they speak and how they tell their story. that's one of the things i adore so much about raconteur's, is how much of the characters are left up to interpretation through this subtle characterization. there's only a little bit of explicit backstories or lore for each of the characters; excluding the likes of petra, massetter, etc, a majority of the less plot heavy characters are left as mysteries for the most part, and you simply infer the type of person they are through how they tell their story, the story they choose to tell, and the million tiny moments that characterize them throughout the book. it's brilliant. so yeah the whalebone spring is just...very very chilling and very cool . a million out of ten

the orphan's tale/the summons of the bone HAS to be up here. petra is just...the character of all time. she makes me weep. many of the characters do, but there's something about petra specifically that's so personal and nuanced and powerful and it evokes soooo much emotion. the summons of the bone is, if i recall correctly, the first story that sort of breaks the pattern from second hand tales and passed down stories to straight up backstory dumping and it's incredible. it's such a heartbreaking tale, and you just want to sob realizing how hurt and betrayed she was as a child. the amount of grief that story holds... unbelievable. not to mention that the concept of orphan magic is so.... chef's kiss. i love it. the grief and the whimsy and the beauty of it all.... honestly i don't think words can describe how the part where she floats down the river with the bone makes me feel. like. i'm going to explode it's so good. i think there's also something about the motif of water. something about how the rain and the river are so intertwined with all of these messy emotions always gets me. and it's so prominent! petra's grief and loss is tied to the floods, sullivan's guilt and pain are tied to the water (side note: sullivan always makes me want to explode he makes me feel so many emotions. i'm not listing his story here because it's less his story that makes me feel things than the interlude right after it - that one changed my brain chemistry forever - so i won't go into detail about it right now, but i think it's important that everyone knows how much sullivan makes me sob), captain frost, too , has his water related pain. and the floods in summons of the bone feel like the culmination of it, a rush of all of the anguish. and this connects to the ending and how impactful that is, when the floods start to fall. i just have. so many emotions. petra is just such an incredible character - i love her understated and underestimated intelligence, her silent observation, her power and her sadness and her knowing nature. what a lovely lady.

the headcutter's tale. i know it's just the ending and not technically a *story* story but...the ending really messed me up in the best way. i don't think i've ever been left so RAW after finishing a book. i felt like i had all of my emotions just drained completely and was left with this sheer love and sadness and gah!! it was insane. i've ranted about this in the vfdiscord for ages and ages but i always go back to it, so. i think the strongest and most impactful part of raconteurs is the estranged found family of it all. they're all strangers, for the most part - acquaintances with messy ties who barely know each other. but at the same time, they know each other more than anyone else in the entire world. and there's something so intimate and personal about the understanding between all these characters and the tentative bonds they have, along with the tensions. i think the most incredible part of this is the way all of them interact and care for maisie. each and every one of them shares affection and care for her in some way; all of them find a way to make things just a little better for her, to protect her from everything and to watch out for her. you can see this with mrs. haypotten's protective nature, gregory's carved animals, sorcha playing with the fire, negret's dancing with her... all of them, despite being near strangers, go out of their way to show this little girl kindness. and with jessamy!! it's the ending!! it's her story and it's so indicative of this same thing, this same love that all of them have. it's just such a lovely and emotional way to end the book, and it's so fitting, too. the book is, above all, about stories. and i think, at the same time, it's about how the stories act as a way to connect people, to uplift them and to share their emotions and to build these bridges during the worst of times. and the choice to end the book in such a way just... leaves the most fitting and perfect uplifting and bittersweet and hopeful note. ugh. i love it.

i just realized how insanely long this post is. oops!! i think i will stop there for now, because it's so long but also because i don't have my copy with me to check details or look at any of the other stories right now. but!! this was very very fun to answer and i always have a million raconteurs emotions in my head so. thank you for the ask !!! <3

[snazzzycattzz]

this is such an unbelievably random thought but golf is the most fucking stupidest thing to ever be invented by man kind. the concept of golf is so unbelievably dumb “hey wanna go hit a ball with a stick and try and make it go into a hole” like that’s such a prehistoric sounding thing we should’ve left golf with the dinosaurs. another horrible thing about golf is the fact that golf courses are just awful for the environment, like we will literally destroy beautiful forests where all the nice little crittiers are just chilling minding their own god damn business then all of a sudden some really old white guy who’s name is like “Christopher bum the third” to have his underpaid workers to tear it down so he and his posh Friends who are also old white guys to sit around and play the most ridiculous most stupid game on the planet.

this world makes no sense

[buckets-and-trees]

I'M NOT OKAY

I LOVE THIS AND I HATE THIS AND I LOVE YOU AND I HATE YOU FOR DOING THIS TO US/GIVING THIS TO US

LIKE

IT'S

OKAY I WAS TRYING TO FIND THE APPROPRIATE GIF AND SEEING THIS?

MADE ME REALIZE THIS DID TO ME WHAT LISTENING TO SAD HEARTBREAKING ADELE MUSIC DOES TO ME

MEANING IT WAS TOO BEAUTIFUL AND TRAGIC ALL AT ONCE AND MY SOUL IS ACHING

I was totally transported into that unbelievably wonderful cocoon of the devotion and love with Bucky. Ugh! I can't even think about it right now because ... it's too wonderful! The way you wrote it made it that way. You just wove the incredible tapestry to wrap around us. It was tangible - and worse (better) because there's the undercurrent of dread the whole time.

I'm just going to point out the two most prominent times you stabbed me in the heart.

The world around you was dark, yet you weren’t scared because Bucky was there.

Because there's terror coming and it will be worse because reader will face it alone.

[The rest of my comments will go under a cut because of the dark nature.]

Then it's just...

The entire invasion and kidnapping scene is horrific and it's worth giving your dues for not holding back - and yet it didn't feel like any of the elements were over the top/there for shock or show, You weighed each element and then utilized appropriately to create this visceral tragedy.

Being ambushed naked in the shower just making it so unsettling from the get go. Catching shards of glass. Them destroying all the personal elements of the home and life created with Bucky. This is so beyond violating and personal against Bucky and...I know I'm not ready for more. (And yet I will read it because it's you and @navybrat817 and your stories are always worth it.)

The other time you prominently stabbed. me in the soul:

If the humiliation of being naked wasn’t enough, having the intruders touch you like this was an indignity that would change you forever. A small part of your golden soul blackened, and you didn’t know if it could ever be saved.

And closing it the way you did - reader literally trying to fight for Bucky and being knocked out by reader and Bucky's photo album?

Shattered. I'm shattered in the best way by this.

Alexa, play all the gut wrenching songs by Taylor Swift and Adele starting with "Sad Beautiful Tragic" until I'm done recovering from reading this story, thanks bye.

𝒂 𝒕𝒊𝒅𝒆 𝒐𝒇 𝒘𝒂𝒓 𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝒃𝒓𝒐𝒌𝒆𝒏 𝒅𝒓𝒆𝒂𝒎𝒔

✧˚ · . a collaboration between @navybrat817 and sgt-seabass

Is this the way it's got to be? Ignite the fire inside of me. Embrace the life of tragedy. A tide of war and broken dreams. (x)

pairing — bucky barnes x reader w/c — 6.3k this is a dark fic. 18+ only. listening to —♫3 am walk

warnings — bucky barnes is a sweetheart, implied (consensual) smut, kidnapping, assault, violence against reader, mention of bodily injury, stabbing, knives, blood, bad guys being cunts, hydra exists, degradation, threat of non-con, whump, threat of violence against an animal (but the animal is not touched or harmed), death threats a/n — after months of brainstorming and writing together with Navy, this has finally been born. this piece is part of a larger AU we made together, so watch this space for more in the future.

Waking up next to Bucky was the easiest thing you ever did, because that was your happiest dream come true.

Even when his alarm blared before the sun had even considered rising, in the early hours when birds were still in their slumber, and the moon lit the bedroom with its ethereal glow, you would still give everything to wake up to the sleepy smile of your boyfriend.

You went to bed thinking of him as he ran his fingers down your back, helping ease you into a restful sleep, and you woke thinking of him as he tried to cover your eyes from his lit-up phone.

You both groaned, begging the stars for more time in bed. But as the incessant beeping filled the room, neither of you would get back to sleep soon.

Bucky was an Avenger. And that meant he had to go save the world. But that didn’t make it any easier when he had to leave for missions.

As Bucky leaned over to turn his phone off, you wrapped your arms around him, spooning him with your chin on his shoulder. “You could just stay home.”

Something in your gut was calling to you, warning you that he needed to stay home. It made you fearful. What if he got hurt?

In hindsight, it was you who needed the protection.

Bucky sighed, turning off the annoying buzzing of his phone. “You know I want to. But I can’t. Duty calls, sweetheart.”

God, you’d never get sick of the gravelly twinge to his voice in the mornings.

“Steve and Sam need backup,” he yawned, rolling over so he could cradle your head to his firm chest as he lay on his back, allowing you to smell the fading scent of his cologne.

“I’m sure they’ll be fine on their own,” you smiled, placing a kiss on his pec. Bucky’s habit of sleeping in only boxers always had you wanting to kiss him all over. Covering him in your affections was always tempting, even when he got shy, especially around his scarred shoulder.

“Baby, stop it,” Bucky almost whined, like a toddler tempted with treats. “Please don’t make this harder for me.”

“Sorry,” you placated, that nauseous feeling in the pit of your stomach not easing as your eyes adjusted to the dark room.

Outside, you could hear the occasional car and pedestrian. But for the most part, Brooklyn was asleep. It was a peaceful silence between you, enjoying each other’s touch while it began drizzling rain outside.

“Well, it’s raining. Now you’ll just have to stay home.” You cheekily nipped at Bucky’s side before shuffling up to kiss his stubbled cheek.

“Is that so?” Bucky chuckled, eyes crinkling in your favourite show of joy.

“Mhm. No missions on rainy days,” you said matter-of-factly with a serious look on your face, a look you couldn’t hold when Bucky tickled your sides. You burst into giggles, gasping softly when Bucky rolled you under him so he towered over you, your body caged between his bulky arms.

“That’s too bad. I thought you were going to have a fun day with Natalia.” Bucky’s hair fell forward and covered some of his face. But there was no missing his twinkling blue eyes, reflecting the lights outside in his orbs. “Weren’t you going to have a girls movie night?”

“Yes, but I’d rather you join us.” Your hands ran up his sides, feeling rippled muscle until you reached his neck and jaw. His stubble pricked at your fingers as you cupped his face.

“I don’t want to be the third wheel. What are you ‘gonna watch?” As he spoke, Bucky began placing gentle kisses on your cheek that trailed down your collarbone.

“Cruel Intentions,” you muttered, revelling in the feeling of his plush lips against your skin.

“You’ve shown me that one,” Bucky murmured against your neck. “That’s the one with the lesbian kissing scene, right?”

You rolled your eyes with mock offence. “Of course that’s the bit you remember. And it’s not just any kissing scene. It’s the legendary kiss between Sarah Michelle Gellar and Selma Blair.”

Bucky pulled himself back up, raising his brows and trying, and failing, to hide his smirk. “Sorry, how could I forget.” His tongue darted out to wet his lips. “Let me see if I remember correctly. It goes like this, right?”

Your heart was ready to burst out of your chest when Bucky’s lips met yours. Morning breath be damned; there was simply nothing better than kissing Bucky Barnes.

He licked across your bottom lip before you opened your mouth to let him in. “Bucky…” You moaned, your tongues sliding together like a choreographed ballroom dance.

Your hands held his scruffy jaw while his hands, one cold and one warm, held your waist. You could always tell when he was getting aroused by the way he’d lose some motor control of his silver arm, the hand twitching and metal plates shifting.

In hindsight, you’d miss the way he’d hold you the most.

Bucky slowly pulled away, his metal hand rising so his thumb could brush over your spittle-smeared lips. “Something like that, right?”

“Yeah.” You breathed out before taking the digit into your mouth.

Even though he couldn’t feel it, you could see how Bucky’s pupils dilated as he watched you suck.

His metal arm had been used for so much evil. But you always wanted to remind him of who he was. Your lover, your best friend. Your everything. Just like you were to him.

You weren’t afraid, and you embraced every part of him. While many cowered away from the man with the metal arm, you gravitated towards him, as if your heart was connected to him with impenetrable strings of fate.

“God, I love you.” Bucky’s metal hand cupped your cheek, his breath hitching for a moment as he gazed at you, as if so full of emotion his words were caught in his throat.

You placed your palm over his hand, snuggling into the cold metal like it was a warm hug. “I love you too, Bucky baby.”

An embarrassed flush spread over Bucky’s cheeks as it always did when you spoke to him sweetly. He might have been a soldier, but he was still a soft romantic at heart.

With the pitter-patter of rain against the window, the room no more than illuminated shadows, you were entirely enraptured by Bucky. You both stayed silent, just soaking in the moment as sparks flew. Even though you’d been together for two years, the chemistry was still like the first day you met. The first time you kissed. The first day you fucked.

The world around you was dark, yet you weren’t scared because Bucky was there.

The languid movement of Bucky’s lips to yours was tender, a familiar movement that he’d done so many times before. Feathery light, yet full of heat, he brushed his lips over yours. “I wish you could come with me.”

“I could stay in the jet.” You offered with sincerity. But that part of Bucky’s world wasn’t for you, you both knew that. You were no agent, a mere civilian with a super soldier boyfriend. But something told you that’s what drew Bucky to you, your normalcy. You gave him a chance at a life that had been stolen from him for so many years.

“I wouldn’t forgive myself if you got hurt. You’re safer here.”

In hindsight, he was very wrong.

Bucky captured your lips again, caressing and lingering in a way that had your heart fluttering and cheeks burning.

You tangled your hands into his locks, deepening the kiss. If he was going, you needed every moment you could get.

Bucky gripped your chin with his flesh hand, opening your mouth for him.

The sweetness turned sultry, and before long, Bucky was grinding himself against your pyjama-covered core.

Words couldn’t describe the desire that was awash in the room. Two lovers revelling in a happiness that was so rare, as if a million I love you’s were condensed into a single moment. No poet could describe this connection or the way it made you feel.

With Bucky’s embrace, you were home.

Bucky slowly trailed kisses down your neck, chest and stomach until he reached your pulsing pussy.

“I better tire you out before I go.” He smirked, cheeky as ever.

And tire you out, he did.

It wasn’t about his pleasure in that moment. He solely focused on you.

The way he moved his tongue, the way he pulled you apart, it was damn near artistic.

Steve may have been a painter, but Bucky was an artist in the act of love.

In hindsight, you should have cherished this moment more. Because it was the last happiness you would feel for some time.

The unease in your stomach began to grow in intensity as time passed, and by the time Bucky pulled himself away to get ready and leave, there were unexplainable chills wracking through you.

Bucky had done a thousand missions in your time together and had come home safe each time. Steve knew you’d likely kill him if something happened to Bucky. So why was this time different?

It was like your soul was trying to reach out and tell you something. But it must have been speaking another language, because you didn’t understand what was wrong.

You made the most of your fleeting time with Bucky before he left. He changed into his workout gear so he could kit up at the compound where most of the Avengers still resided, and Bucky had once lived. He didn’t leave many weapons in the home; you preferred it that way. The only one you knew of was the knife hidden under the couch, but you were sure there were other blades around.

Bucky had never told you why he didn’t live at the compound anymore, but Nat had hinted at tension between Bucky and Tony. You’d found it odd, given that Tony had been friendly to you each time you’d visited the compound.

But it wasn’t your business and didn’t matter to you anyway. You were content living with Bucky in your cosy apartment. There was more than enough space for both you and your fur child Alpine, plus a second bedroom for when Steve stayed over.

You snuggled into the duvet when Bucky left to make you a cup of tea before he headed off, and seeing as there was now a free spot, Alpine entered from the main area and took her chance to cosy up next to you. You pet the long-haired white cat as you waited, listening to her soft purrs to help ground you.

And when Bucky returned, you felt rather teary, your vision blurring as your emotions almost got the better of you. “Stay safe, please.”

Bucky set your earl grey down on the coaster on your bedside table before his concerned gaze turned to you. “I’ll be just fine. I’ll have my phone on me the whole time.”

“Is the mission dangerous?” You couldn’t help but ask. But you always got the same answer.

“I can’t talk about it, baby. But I’ll be okay. I promise,” Bucky reassured you with a kiss on your forehead. “You and Alpine better hold down the fort for me, okay?”

“Yeah. We’re going to get up to lots of mischief,” you smiled the best you could, holding Bucky’s hand.

“That’s my girls.” Bucky gave Alpine a little scratch under her chin before doing the same to you. “I’ll be back before you know it. Now get some more sleep, soldier’s orders.”

“Yes, sergeant,” you mock saluted before Bucky kissed you and pulled away.

“I love you, doll,” Bucky called from the doorway, as if taking his chance to imprint the sight of you into his mind.

In hindsight, he should have looked a lot longer.

“I love you too,” you gave Bucky a little wave. Alpine meowed in her own show of affection.

And like that, he was gone; The final sound from him was the closing of the front door behind him.

You turned the television on for some white noise while you sipped at your tea before you did as you were told, allowing the talking of some trash reality show to become background noise as you fell back asleep. As you dozed off, you couldn’t help but notice one side of the bed a lot colder than when you first had awoken.

For the second time that day, you woke up. This time, the sunlight beamed through the open curtains, since Bucky loved being woken by the sun warming his skin. He hated being cold.

Next to you lay a napping Alpine, her fluffy body rising and falling slowly with each deep breath. You placed a hand on her side, smiling at the little yip that came from her in surprise. She rolled onto her back, deep blue eyes watching you as you gaily scritched her belly.

She took the chance to latch onto your hand, playfully holding onto your wrist while her feet kicked and teeth ran across your skin.

“Hey, silly goose. Let me go.” Your chastisement was light and playful. While you’d prefer waking up next to Bucky, Alpine was a good replacement on the lonely days. She was your family, just like Bucky.

When Alpine rolled back over with a tired huff, you decided to leave her to slumber. As much as you wanted to annoy her more, you didn’t want to push your luck and end up with a pissed off kitty. She was moody, just like her dad.

You slinked out of bed, taking a moment to stretch when your feet hit the cold floorboards. With a yawn, you looked around the room. You should really get a rug, but Bucky liked lying on the floors when he found the bed too soft. On those nights, you’d join him, even if it left your back stiff and sore.

Padded steps took you to the kitchen, your body on autopilot as you got Alpine’s food ready for when she got up. It was the same routine as every morning. Feed the cat, shower, and check your emails for new commissions.

In hindsight, you should have been paying more attention.

You hummed as you made your way to the bathroom, connecting your phone to the Bluetooth speakers so you could play some music while you tried to relax. Your mind would run without the interruption of songs. And you didn’t want to start thinking about work before you’d had a chance to breathe.

In hindsight, you shouldn’t have put the music so loud.

It was a luxury working from home, getting to pick your own hours. You had felt a little guilty when Bucky first proposed the idea of you quitting your crappy retail job to follow your dream of graphic design, as he could bare the brunt of the expenses.

But now you were flourishing; you were just grateful for his support. There were peaks and troughs like any job, but your heart was content sitting in your shared apartment, designing things that made the world a brighter place.

You turned the shower on, bopping along to your music as you shed yourself of your pyjamas and got into the tiled shower. You could have a bath, but you preferred to save those moments for when Bucky could join you.

The hot water made you hiss at first before your body acclimatised, skin heating up as the stream washed over you.

You faced the wall, resting your head on the tile as the spray rushed down your back.

In hindsight, you should have turned around.

The consequence of your various decisions throughout the morning came to a startling precipice.

With no idea of your surroundings, you were surprised when someone looped their arms under your armpits and over your shoulders, hauling you backwards.

You didn’t even scream for a moment, your brain unable to catch up before the adrenaline kicked in full force.

The assailant didn’t speak, which almost made it worse, as he started to walk backwards with your back to his chest, arms locked over your front. More than ever, you really wished you’d taken Bucky up on those self-defence classes.

“Thanks, Buck. But I’ll never use them.”

“I just want to keep you safe.”

“I am safe. My boyfriend is an Avenger, remember?”

Fight or flight kicked in, and your screaming started. You kicked your feet up and planted your soles on the cold tiled wall. With all your strength, you pushed back like a springboard, sending you and your attacker hurtling backwards.

He let go as he fell, and while he fell through one glass pane of the shower, you fell through another. The force had the glass shattering, sending thousands of shards all over the room.

You scrunched your eyes closed, wailing when you stepped in the broken glass, pain shooting through you when the shards buried themselves into the soles of your feet. But a second attacker caught you before your body hit the sharp ground. The piercing pain in your feet barely registered with how your body buzzed. Blood began to cover the floor, your essence coating the tiles a sickly red.

Your eyes shot open to see who caught you. A dirty blonde with a youthful grin. The man who had grabbed you first, another blonde with bright blue eyes and a scowl, had caught himself against the double sink.

Time froze for a moment when you looked at the door. There was another man with dark brown hair and an ominous expression, his features dark like his intent. Three men. You had no idea if more waited outside the door, but anything would be better than being stuck in this room.

“Nice catch, Damien,” the dark-haired man grinned.

“Yeah, no problem, Mads,” the man holding you spoke, chuckling like he wasn’t holding a hostage in his grip. “Not like Kage was any help.”

With them distracted, you bolted for the bathroom door, ignoring the way your feet tore with each step.

“Maddox! Grab her!” The man against the counter, Kage, yelled. Pushing himself off the marble to follow you.

You managed to duck under Maddox’s arms and stumbled into the kitchen. Your blood was already pooling on the ground with each step you took, like red footprints in the snow.

A meow caught your attention; Alpine stood in the bedroom doorway, her tail straight and her ears back against her head, the anxiety clear.

“Alpine! Hide under the bed,” you hissed, knowing you only had seconds before the unknown men came after you. If you were to die, there was no way you’d let them get Alpine too. Alpine stared at you momentarily, but as the tears welled in your eyes, she rushed off, perhaps understanding the weight of your command. This wasn’t belly scratches and joking around anymore.

You rushed for the knife block on the kitchen counter, but a hand on the back of your neck stopped you before you could reach it. “Nice try, bitch.”

Maddox gripped your neck and shoulders before he threw you over the kitchen counter, sending you rolling over and onto the bar stools that sat neatly on the other side. You tumbled to the ground, groaning instantly at the pain of the wood hitting you from multiple angles during your descent.

The trajectory sent you towards the dining table, and with Kage and Damien coming in close, you shot up and grabbed one of the dining chairs. You held it out like a weapon, with the legs facing outwards. Your breaths came out in short pants as tears trickled down your cheeks, while a shard of wood from the stool stuck out of your side. “What do you want? I don’t have any money, please.”

“Are you dumb enough to think we’re here for money?” Damien goaded, slowly closing in the distance between you two.

Maddox jumped the counter and landed behind you, boxing you in. With a scream, you threw the chair at Damien and attempted to flee under the dining table.

You squealed when Maddox grabbed your ankle, his grip harsh. You turned to look back at him, before you kicked him in the face with your free leg. He groaned in pain, and you didn’t check to see how bad you’d hurt him before you crawled out to the other side of the table.

Kage had been waiting for you, and when you reached him, he dealt a sharp kick to your side. The pain winded you, your mouth ajar with a shocked gasp before he kicked your ribs again.

You rolled onto your back, watching as Kage considered you from above. The way he looked at you – the malice. They were going to kill you. A woman could always sense the imposing threat that men had, for it was simply the female experience to be at the mercy of those who wanted to harm you.

You should have stopped Bucky from going – should have trusted your gut. Although, if these men wanted you dead, then there would only have been so much Bucky could do. He was a victim as much as you in the world of unfairness. A man out of time. A man who just wanted a semblance of normalcy.

It was mournful that his one good thing was becoming marred with the violence he had become so used to.

“I don’t want to die,” you wept under the man, pulling the wooden stake from your side with a cry of pain. "Please."

Turning over, you dragged your bloodied body towards your desk. The same desk you spent most of your days on. Your computer and sketchbooks were filled with hopes and dreams, colour and beautiful chaos.

Your ichor-covered hand grabbed onto the side, using it like a crutch to stand up. You couldn’t stop fighting. If you were going to perish, you’d go out swinging.

“You’re still trying? It’s pathetic. You can barely stand,” Kage growled as Damien and Maddox began wreaking havoc behind him. They were smashing and destroying everything in sight, demolishing the world you and Bucky had built with love and a cherishing touch.

“F.. Fuck you,” you weakly spat, legs burning with the need to sit down.

Kage snapped, grabbing you and dragging you across the desk. Your computer smashed onto the ground, along with all your notebooks and stationery. He threw you down on top of the mangled computer, allowing the glass of your screen to stick into your back. In a way, it wasn’t a new sensation anymore. The sharp piercing of your feet had dulled your body to the point where the new pain was no more than a sudden spike that turned into a dull ache.

“You think you’re special? You’re nothing. Not even worth expending energy on.” Kage left your side, and your sightline moved to the couch.

Bucky kept a knife under it.

Trying to not show your intention, you used your arms to pull yourself along the hardwoods towards the couch, while Maddox closed in and kept tapping your bare ass with the toe of his boot.

“I wonder what he likes about you,” Maddox considered. “Are you that good a fuck? Do you cook him meals just like the old days, huh? ‘Cause to me, you just seem like a puny helpless girl. There’s no fun in killing someone who might as well be already dead.”

His taunts made your blood boil, and when you reached the corner of the couch, you turned onto your back, facing the assailant. “Go fuck yourself. You don’t know anything.”

“Ah, see there’s a little fire. I like it when they fight back.” Maddox dropped to his knees, one on either side of your thighs so you were boxed in. “I want to watch the light drain from your eyes, see all that hope just whittle away to nothing. Because, like Kage said, you are nothing.”

He moved in closer, to the point where you could smell the stale whisky on his breath. “I wonder what body part your boyfriend will find first. Maybe I’ll put your head under the bed with your fucking cat. What do you think? Are you ready to die?”

You let out an almighty scream when you reached and grabbed the knife, pulling it out and slashing Maddox across the arm before he could react.

He was a lot faster than you, however, and the moment you got a hit in on him he jumped back, eyes turning a lot darker. “Oh, you’re fucking stupid.” He growled, before he quickly overpowered you.

In a struggle, you screamed and thrashed, but by bearing his weight onto you, Maddox could manoeuvre you. He picked you up, before slamming you back down onto the hardwood floors. Your head snapped back from the force, whacking against the ground with a loud crack. 

Everything went black for a moment, and by the time your vision came back, Maddox was squatting over you with the sole of his boot stepping on your wrist, the knife still in your grip.

“You really don’t know when to stop, huh? Can’t you see you’re going to lose no matter what you do?” Maddox’s boot pressed harder, and your wrist creaked uncomfortably under the pressure.

You let go of the knife just before your bones would reach the point of snapping, the metal clattering to the ground. Despite the tears in your eyes and the fear in your heart, you were thankful for the life you had. If this were to be the end of your existence, you were okay with that. Bucky had given you a life worth of love in the short two years you’d known him. 

As you watched the sharp eyes of the man above you, you thought of Bucky. You hoped this loss would not destroy him. The life you had experienced together would not change; those happy memories of laughter and smiles still there. You hoped he would not cry for you, but feel a blossoming love at the thought of you. Death wouldn’t have you becoming a ghost of a forgotten past, but a memory to be cherished in Bucky’s future. And you would be waiting for him on the other side, should he be expecting to see you there after his inevitable demise. You would be just around the corner, waiting like nothing had ever been lost. These men could try and take your body, but they would not take your soul. That belonged to the man thousands of miles away saving the world. “I’m not going to lose. I’ve already won.”

“Yeah? Does this feel like winning?” Maddox sneered before he picked up the blade and plunged the knife into your shoulder, the white-hot pain splintering through you like the broken glass of your shower. Your mouth opened into a silent, broken scream, the anguish unlike anything you’d felt before.

This was just a fraction of what Bucky had felt in his lifetime, yet this felt like the whole world was collapsing in on you, your body broken. Perhaps these men were right - maybe you were weak. Because the knife in your shoulder was enough to break you. Would Bucky be disappointed? Would he expect you to have put up more of a fight? The logical response would be no. But the blade slicing through your muscles made it hard to think straight.

Maddox slapped your cheek and twisted the blade. “I asked you a question, little bitch. Does this feel like you’re winning?”

Your choked cries painfully shook your shoulders, and despite it all, you nodded. “Yes. I’ve already won and you can’t take that from me.”

“Stupid fucking whore, listen to this slut. She really thinks she’s worth something.” Damien called out from behind Maddox, looking at you from over his shoulder. Kage joined the commotion, gazing at the knife lodged in your shoulder.

Without compassion, Maddox ripped the knife from your shoulder, your palms raising to try to press on the open wound. There was no reprieve with these men, however. Maddox grabbed your shoulders, ignoring your yelps and wails while he threw you over the back of the couch.

Your front dropped onto the sofa, while your ass stuck in the air on the stiff back of the couch. The fear that roiled inside you turned tenfold as Kage came up behind you, pressing on your lower back so your hips pressed painfully into the couch frame. Damien and Maddox came around your front, their crotches scarily close to your face.

“You know what we can take from you, though? Your dignity.” Kage’s hands moved from your back to the globes of your ass. “I could fuck you right here, and there’s nothing you could do about it.”

If the humiliation of being naked wasn’t enough, having the intruders touch you like this was an indignity that would change you forever. A small part of your golden soul blackened, and you didn’t know if it could ever be saved.

Damien gripped your chin, forcing you to look up at the two men. “And we could fuck that mouth of yours. Maybe even pull a few teeth if you dared fight.”

“I bet you’d love it. After all, you have to be all kinds of fucked up to fuck the Winter Soldier,” Kage said as his fingers moved to feel across your thighs.

“Don’t you dare speak about him like that. He’s more of a man than you three put together.” The mere mention of Bucky had your anger returning. You let out a huffed breath before you used the last of your depleting strength to lift your legs and kick Kage in the stomach. He didn’t move, body like a stone statue, but the movement pushed you over the couch and onto the living room floor. The plushness of the cushions did little to soften your fall, a whimpered breath coming from your tired body.

You were just so tired. The more blood you lost, the harder it was to keep going. As your ichor stained the rug below you, you glanced to the blackened television.

“Bucky, what are you doing on the floor? And is that all the stuff from the bed?”

“We’re having a pillow fort movie night. The popcorn is in the microwave.”

“It’s going to be a pain to put the bed back together, you know.”

“Then we’ll just have to sleep here. Don’t worry, I’m sure we can break it in. It’s one new surface I haven’t fucked you on yet.”

No. You couldn’t give up. You owed Bucky your best fight. You had no doubt he would do the same for you.

The assailants closed in again, the same dark-haired asshole taunting you with his menacing grin.

“Fuck you,” you spat, seeing red when he tried to grab you.

Most of the punches you threw didn’t land, but it didn’t matter to you. Your arms were a blur as you screamed and unleashed all the fury you had.

But they just laughed at your efforts. The blood loss had clearly taken full effect with the way you moved slower than you intended, your arms weakening quickly.

“Nice try, toy.” Maddox picked you up by the shoulders before throwing you into the wooden coffee table.

The thin tabletop cracked and fractured instantly, wood splintering around the dent your body left.

The pain had become immaterial, the agony reducing from a boil to a simmer as your ability to feel lessened to the point where nothing was at all. Perhaps it was your body protecting your psyche, or you were dying. Either way, it left you feeling somewhat euphoric.

"She still fighting?"

"Let her be. She isn't going anywhere."

"Dumb bitch thought she stood a chance."

Your dazed state had the men leaving you to finish trashing the house. With no immediate threat, you made your last-ditch attempt. You had to let Bucky know who killed you. You knew it would kill him to not know who attacked you.

Numbed, you took another look at the men. There was nothing too unusual about them, just their distinctive hair colours, eye colours and the symbol they all bore. You hadn’t noticed it at first, but now with your chance to inspect them, you sighted a circular insignia on the front of their black hoodies. A green… octopus?

When Damien threw a plate at you that shattered against your forearm when you raised it to defend yourself, your thoughts were cut off. The porcelain dropped around you, and you picked up one of the pieces. On it was a little drawing of a cat. You and Bucky had done a pottery art class and came home with a few plates. You picked up a second piece, a sob bubbling from your throat when you looked at the two fragments together. A little Alpine that you had drawn, and a little bird that Bucky had drawn with red wings.

You let the remnants of the plate drop to the ground, the once beautiful creation covered with your blood. They really were destroying everything. As Damien continued to vandalise the kitchen, Maddox and Damien tore apart your boxes of photos.

Even with the horror of having your life stripped away, you struggled to look away. You saw the green octopus again, and something in the back of your mind was trying to get out – to tell you what it meant.

The emblem was so familiar, and you turned onto your stomach as you thought. Pulling yourself to a free patch of hardwood flooring, you began writing out the word ‘blonde’ with your blood, trying to give Bucky anything you could.

Kage stopped you after the first word, and it was like there was cotton wool in your ears as he pulled your hand back. You assumed he said something to chastise you, but you didn’t register it.

You could see his expression, though. He was enjoying himself, laughing with his partners as he took your arms and dragged you on your back towards the front door.

When you looked up, you saw his hoodie closer, and that’s when it clicked. Hydra? But Hydra was red? And from what you heard on the news after the Triskelion incident, they were some power-crazed terrorist organisation bent on absolute control. What were they doing in your apartment? And why did they hate Bucky so much?

Bucky hadn’t told you much about his past, and part of you understood. You could tell by the vulnerable look in his eye that he was scared you’d leave him every time the Winter Soldier was brought up, which was rare.

All you knew was that he was under control as the Winter Soldier, and did some horrible things. But you never pressed, and you didn’t need to. You knew enough to know Bucky was a victim, and that was enough.

Good people like Sam and Natasha wouldn’t have continued to stand by him if Bucky was anything more than an innocent, manipulated prisoner of war. Steve would stand with Bucky regardless, but you didn’t blame him for that. Some relationships simply went further than right or wrong, innocent or guilty. Steve would stand by Bucky through thick and thin, just like you would.

But that didn’t explain why these men were here and tormenting you. This was more than just an attack – it was complete and utter destruction. The apartment was in ruins, completely desecrated.

Kage dragged and dumped your body against the entry wall, amongst the torn photos of you and Bucky. Your gaze turned to one where you were both smiling, huddling in close. It was taken on Steve’s birthday. You’d all thrown him a surprise party in the compound. You remember because Bucky had you both wear a comically bad Captain America t-shirt to tease him.

The photo, while tattered, was a reminder. While this moment was pure suffering, life was also full of moments that had your heart full of love. Life wasn’t always full of pain, and this torture was but a brief snapshot in the greater picture of your life.

Now, your heart hurt because you’d experienced such great love you knew what it was like to feel the loss. Tears trickled down your cheeks as you mourned what could have been. You should be experiencing many more birthdays and silly t-shirts, but it seemed that wasn’t what fate had planned for you.

The cries you let out were stricken with grief, and for the first time, the men went silent and just looked at you as if you were human, not just a toy for their enjoyment.

“Talk about a mood killer,” Damien sniggered, but Kage quickly raised his hand.

“Enough. Time to put her out of her misery.”

Your blood turned icy cold, dread settling in your stomach as you whimpered, too drained to run. “Please, don’t. Just leave me. I won’t tell anyone.” A blatant lie, but you had to try. You’d seen their faces, and that alone sealed your fate. "I don't want to die," you said more to yourself than to them.

“Pretty pictures. Too bad they’re a bit stained.” Maddox mocked as he picked up one of the discarded photo albums. It was the heaviest one, full of memories that were now soaked with your blood.

Maddox handed the album to Kage, unbothered by the drips of red that hit the floor. 

They all stood before you as Kage flipped through the pages, his features hardened. “He’s so happy. Let’s see if the monster smiles now.”

Kage slammed the book closed, sealing your fate between his hands. That part of your life was ending, and these three were writing your future.

There was no point pleading with them, and you were too devoid of energy to do more than sit with shallow breaths, awaiting your death.

But one last ounce of adrenaline coursed through your veins as you tried to keep your eyes open. "His name is Bu-"

Kage raised the photo album before slamming it down on your head. It knocked you out instantly, the world going black as your body toppled to the side.

But the reaper didn’t come. Your heart continued beating, lungs filling with air.

Your suffering was due to continue. This wasn’t the end.

[hollowarc]

3 am on a Monday

Right now it's 3:34 AM on a Monday, and the full moon killed our power.

i shouldn't say that it did, there's not exactly proof of it,

but I noticed that the power went out almost exactly when the moon turned to full.

but anyways, it's probably not actually the moon messing with us.

some tree hit a power line or something, it doesn't really matter why the power is out.

but it is.

and it's unbearably hot and humid.

The family opened up all of the downstairs doors so that we can have the ocean wind and air run through the house so it doesn't go stale.

unfortunately for me at the very top, 

hot air rises.

and the ocean air, especially the humidity, is hot.

very hot.

I woke up in a puddle of my own sweat.

So here we are.

on the roof.

and it's unbelievable.

Because of the widespread blackout, the sky isn't foggy. it's not even cloudy.

There are thousands of stars in the sky. 

and the moon, well,

The full moon is more than bright enough to let me write this.

It's honestly beautiful.

we never get nights like this up in the city. 

its turtle season, so people cant have lights on the beach, either,

even if they had the power to do so, which we don't.

The waves are getting higher.

I see a turtle wash up on the beach, and start crawling towards a nesting area.

The stars are getting brighter.

Earlier today, we had friends over, and their house had blacked out before ours did.

It was a birthday party, so I hope they had fun.

it's all happening at once. 

The alarms are going off downstairs. 

all of them, like they've gone haywire. 

i don't even know how the alarms are going off without the power, but the batteries must have kicked in.

I'm sure it won't last.

Everyone is beginning to evacuate.

The entire family is up now, rushing to a safe place. 

The trapdoor behind me slammed shut with the wind, locking itself.

At least I have a view of the spectacle. 

It's 3:50 AM on a Monday, and the full moon is going to kill us all.

The old man on the ground floor was the first to go.

the machine that kept him alive ran out of power, and it was only a matter of time.

The water is beginning to flood the street.

Off the coast, I see a large wave. 

then another.

waves, tall as buildings, start destroying the beach houses.

The sand is all but gone now.

I wonder how that turtle I saw is doing.

The air base on the island is sending out helicopters, jets, planes…

each and every one falls, crashes, and burns into the water.

out in the distance, i hear the cataclysmic boom of an eruption,

 the smog clouds billowing into the night sky.

or is it morning?

It's getting colder.

fresh snow begins to fall on my shoulder, despite it all.

until it burns my hand, and I realize that it's not snow, but ash.

my eyes sting, my glasses are gone, but i don't need to see to write.

The stars are missing.

covered up by the volcanic winter.

It's 4:24 AM on a Monday, and I can feel the moon pulling me apart.

it's getting hard to breathe.

I'm so cold.

The lightning strikes the rooftop I'm on, pushing me awake.

The water is rising, still. 

a boat floats itself up to me, the city around all but massacred by the might of the fathomless below.

it won't help any in the end, but it's a better fate than staying on this rooftop and drowning. maybe.

It hurts to move.

I climb onto the miraculously floating vessel,

and on the deck, is a blind woman fishing, and an old record player playing an even older song.

her hair is frizzy, and her skin is impossibly wrinkled.

I ask her why all of this is happening.

she just chuckles at me, the world I know crumbling around us.

It's 5:00 AM on a Monday, and I'm fishing at the end of the world.