#the iliad

Achilles: I gave Agamemnon a get well soon card

Odysseus: That’s surprisingly nice of you

Achilles: He’s not sick I just think he should do better

Patroclus: Everyone you meet is fighting a battle you know nothing about. Be kind.

Achilles: I once saw you kill a child because he took your dice.

Patroclus: Exactly. That was my battle. So be kind.

Deidameia: i can’t live without you

Achilles: then perish.

Achilles: Patroclus! Look, I found out what is wrong with me

Achilles: *Pointing to his head*

Achilles: On right side there is nothing right and on the left side there is nothing left

Patroclus:

Patroclus:

Achilles:

Patroclus: Achilles, seriously, wtf

Zephyr: Shootin my shot.

Hyacinth:*Dead*

Reading TSoA while knowing the plot of the iliad is like watching your friend walking down the road, seeing a truck coming towards them and realizing that they’re wearing air pods.

He is half of my soul

I know him in death.

This, and this, and this

Some soft Patrochilles for once <3 cuz I always draw them in angst

imissthembutitwasntadisaster:

Calling yourself “feral” when you never had a conversation with your horse about your impending death and then tried to fight a river? smh

the curse of my death is that

i am with you

through your madness,

stranded and unable

to save you.

— and they say it is mercy

i think about you when the sun dips low to kiss the earth

and the night engulfs the empty sky in an embrace

because i know that in silence,

that is when you are alive.

— death, please come for me too

i think,

they will perish,

and yet my lips are silent—

they are sealed even when i am screaming

within my head;

i think,

they are unloved by the gods,

and pretend that i do not know—

i turn away from the noise within the wind

because they are just children;

i think,

he will lose his love,

but i do not know who i mean.

— secrets in pelion

i found love in you;

i found myself in war.

i’m sorry, i’m sorry, i’m sorry—

what is my legacy without you?

frantic denials

goddess,

how do you want me to love?

you think so lowly of this boy

who has scraped his wobbly knees

to chase this omnipotent being

that you call your son;

worships brimming from my throat

and spilling from my wounded lips

because he is a god amongst mortals.

you think so lowly of this boy

who does not want your son to perish

even if he is forgotten through time,

because what good is his epic

when he is dust?

you think so lowly of this boy

who loves achilles

for what he is not allowed to be—

a boy.

so tell me goddess,

how do you want me to love?

how do you want us to love?

— prayers thrown at the sea

my love,

our souls have been bound longer than time can tell.

when i cursed my father for sending me away,

i did not know that it was but a thread in fate’s woven tale.

all of my shortcomings were meant to lead me to you;

the weakness of my hands

and the fear in my heart –

they all were telling me to come to you.

so my love,

this time around,

come to me quickly.

let not even death separate us.

just like how you were waiting for me in phthia,

i will be waiting for you from our tombs.

— from his ashes

mother,

am i selfish for being afraid

and angry

at the prospect of him loving another

once i am gone?

she said,

he will rather slice his own neck

than love someone not you.

i preen at her reply.

— am i like peleus?

so many times i have lain awake in silence,

hands pawing at the emptiness seated within my ribs

as though they knew that i am never myself without you.

so many times i have whispered your name,

the only part of you that i possess,

in hopes that it will satiate the desire i have for you

growing in me.

so many times i have wished for this day to come;

when my love is fully returned,

and my heart now whole as you offer me the half of yours.

so many times i have prepared myself for you,

but nothing ever prepared me for the loss that love would bring with it too.

— this is what i will lose

he weeps in his solitude

and calls for my name

as though it would bring life back to me;

as though it would bring me back to him.

—pa-tro-clus

i remember the figs and the grass

and the quiet in mount pelion.

i remember the casual looks

driven by unnamed feelings,

unsaid but not unrequited.

i remember master’s stories

and the lessons he imparted with us,

and i remember loving each shared moments—

those that we did not know were numbered.

i remember my skepticism in some of his teachings

but now i think of how true his words had become;

the greatest grief, after all,

was sending you to your death

while life continued to run through my veins.

philtatos,

we were separated once again.

-his blessings amidst our curse

the scent of pomegranates filter through the chasm

and i turn, hoping to see you—

you have never outgrew the smell of pomegranates on your neck and sandalwood on your legs—

but it is simply the goddess,

whom is beautiful beyond words to compare,

but never as beautiful as you.

she breaks the fruit open and hands me the seeds

and it feels like kissing you once again.

they do not tell me where you are

but surely, you were not meant to be in the asphodel meadows

where my mere soul rests.

it seems, my love, that even in the afterlife

the gods do not favour us.

- semantics of the dead