greek everything

Thoughts on Patroclus

Friendly reminder that Patroclus should not be remember simply as “Achilles’ bitch”.

Friendly reminder that Patroclus was a little shit. He had the power, the looks and the skills, and he knew it. Not only he excelled at battle; he did it while taunting his enemies all the fucking time cause he was going to win and he knew it.

Friendly reminder that he was the one guy who got to call out on Achilles, something no one else dared to do. In fact, men went to ask him to call out on Achilles because everyone was scared of him. Except for Patroclus.

Friendly reminder that Patroclus had advanced medical knowledge, something extremly rare at the time. He healed many of his friends and comrades during battle. Hadn’t it been for him, many great warriors would have died.

Friendly reminder that Patroclus was loyal to a fault. He was always by Achilles’ side in battle. He never disobeyed Achilles orders. The one time he did, was the time he died.

Friendly reminder that Patroclus was kind and had a soft heart. He cried because while Achilles’ Rage lasted, he wouldn’t let any of his men enter battle, Patroclus included. And while Achilles’ troops were hiding in their ships, the rest of the Greek army got crushed. Patroclus felt so powerless and helpless because he couldn’t do nothing as he saw his comrades dying.

Friendly reminder that Patroclus had a character crisis. He had to decide whether obeying his Lord’s commands and abandoning his friends in battle, or going against his Lord’s wishes and engaging fight.

Friendly reminder that he refused to stay behind like a coward. He chose to enter battle, but since he was a honourable man he told Achilles about it. Friendly reminder that he managed to sway Achilles’ Rage. Friendly reminder that he managed to convince Achilles to let their troops rejoin the war, thus returning the victory to the Greeks.

Friendly reminder that Patroclus was flawed. He committed hubris. He got so battle drunk and was so excited by the prospect of finally ending the war, that he disobeyed Achilles’ direct command not to fight near the walls of Troy, and chased the Troyans back to the limits of the city. To the place Achilles had specifically told him not to go because it would be too dangerous. Friendly reminder that this one flaw is his downfall.

Friendly reminder that Patroclus doesn’t go down without giving one hell of a fight. Friendly reminder that Patroclus was so strong that Apollo (the God that protected Troy and Hector [Troy’s heir to the throne]) had to face him and repel him four times. Four times. A god. If that ain’t badass, then I don’t know what could be. In the fourth time, Apollo got inside Patroclus’ head and made him dizzy. Patroclus fell and Apollo removed him from his armour- Achilles’ armour. Patroclus ended up unprotected, vulnerable and dizzy in the middle of the battle field; so a random dude saw the opportunity and stabbed his back with a spear. But was that enough to make him go down? Oh heck no. The pain snapped him out of the dizziness. Patroclus realized he was in a very troublesome situation so he decided to fall back… but at that moment Hector engaged him in battle. And Patroclus wouldn’t retire from a direct combat, oh heck he wouldn’t. Even though he knew this was probably the way he would die, he fought with his all.

Friendly reminder that lacking his armor, tired from battle, with a spear wound on his back and only Achilles’ sword left as weapon, Patroclus faced Hector, Troy’s greatest warrior and didn’t fear.

Friendly reminder that when Hector sheathed his spear in Patroclos’ stomach, Patroclus thought about the love of his life.

Friendly reminder that with his last breath Patroclus smiled at Hector and told him “You are a dead man. This will be your downfall”. Friendly reminder that until his last moment, he was a little shit.

Friendly reminder that Patroclus is a flawed, well-rounded, badass character and that he deserves so much more than his current position as “Achilles’s love interest”.

Έχεις αναρωτηθεί πόσοι μπορεί να σε έχουν αγαπήσει κι εσύ να μην το έμαθες ποτέ;
—  δε σε πονάει αυτή η σκέψη τώρα;
Kanej – Hades and Persephone

- she weaves flowers in her braid, she draws the light amidst the darkness he created

- he walks past her in her silks, peacock feathers in her hair, as she turns around, her eyes searching for his, but all he can watch is the pomegranate in her hand and its juice dripping to the floor like blood

- she sees the world from above and below, from the depths of the Barrel and the spires of Ghezen’s Hand; half of each year spent on either side of life

- she is the daughter of life, of sweeping fields of yellow wheat, the sweetest fruits, the coast of Ravka, etched into her memory alongside her mother’s scent and father’s voice

- he lives in fog and smoke, in alleys buried between houses that rise so high they squeeze out the sky between them; he sees a world painted in black and red, thrives on other people’s agony and despair

- he makes her a queen – his Wraith queen and he the king who built their court 

- there was never a more fearsome thing: the girl who chose to stay in his underworld, all the more threatening because of how kind she was, how hardened she had become, how capable she was of cruelty, yet of love at the same time

- she took him for what he was, she understood the need for the Lord of Death – their world might be worse for him, but he had made Ketterdam a city in which she could fight her way out of her humiliation and hate and that was all she cared about

- he was their king, but nobody was as feared as she, nobody drew everybody’s eye like the little Suli acrobat, ruthless captain of her death-ship, fearless in lofty heights, every other Barrel boss’ envy

- she took death from him, he life from her; they complemented each other, they had to be together, join together to defy the rest of the world

- he didn’t want to be bare, to let everyone see what his life in the underworld had made of him, what death had supposedly done to him. She saw him and cradled his hands in hers, as she realised he was still human, still had a heart beating in his chest.

- her lips spoke of the summer, dripping with honey, drew him towards her, but repulsed him at the same time. Her words spoke of darkness, her eyes of revenge. They drew him towards her, too. 

- she was a cracked mirror like him. Her surface gleamed silver with the moon enchanting him, but she didn’t make a secret of her past. Not to him. 

- they lived in the shadows, they lived in the secret alleys of a city which was home to ghosts floating along the streets, hiding what they were, forgetting it. But they were as happy as anyone can be under those conditions. They were fighting day to day, but fighting the battles they lived for. 

2

modern gods  → ares

after a millennia filled with endless bloodshed, ares has found himself tiring of war. he picks up the odd job as a hit man here and there, going through the motions for the sake of it, but he hasn’t set foot on a battlefield in over a century.

Μισώ αυτό το συναίσθημα..
Να μιλάω μα να μην ακούγομαι..
Να περπατάω μα να μην προχωράω..
Να ζω τη νύχτα και να πεθαίνω τη μέρα..
Να είμαι ανάμεσα σε πληθος αλλά να είμαι μόνη μου..
Να φεύγω μακριά σου αλλά να μένω στην πραγματικότητα μαζί σου
Να πετάω εξωτερικά αλλά εσωτερικά να μη μπορώ να κάνω βήμα..
Να γελάω αλλά να κλαίω..
Να φωνάζω βοήθεια μα να μην με ακούνε..

Everything is more beautiful
Because we are doomed.
Doomed to an inevitable fate.
Doomed to a fate
That will claw on us
Imprison us
Make us feel like a burning candle
In which the fire is fading into embers.

Beauty is a temporary thing.
And we are all temporary.
Tragedy is a thing of beauty,
A spark that only shines once.

You will never be lovelier than you were before.
So please, oh gods, let the day before the storm be immortalised.
For I still want to kiss his lips
And press his cheeks to mine
And embrace his body

But not like this.

Not when his eyes are closed.
Not when his body will inevitably burn.
Not when he will never show his smile again.
Not when I will never see him alive.

Oh gods.
This was all my fault.
I'msorryi'msorryi'msorry i’m SORRY

PLEASE GIVE HIM BACK
GIVE HIM BACK TO ME.

I have never asked for anything else
so please
Let his eyelids open once more
Let his eyes shine like it always does
Let me drown in all that is him
All soft and all beautiful and all bright
Or let me drown in my black sorrow.

But i always thought the gods were amused by mortals.
Are you amused now?
As i scream and beg for him,
Are you amused?
As i slaughter for him,
As i injure you kind,
As i kill your children,
Are you amused?

Let the world not remember me for my rage
But for the grief that I had shown
For the hollow husk i had become
For the heartless war machine i became because my heart and soul burned along with him.

Oh how it hurts.
It hurts so much.
For when I always wake up
I think everything was a nightmare
And that
I could change the course of fate
And sail back home
And he and I could grow old together.
And when I turn to him,
To embrace him,
He feels cold.
He feels stiff.
Why is he cold?
Why? Did i hog the blankets like I do all the ti-
Oh.

Oh.

He
Is gone.
He
Is dead.
And i am weak
To the hands of death.
Let him take me,
Let him take me to where he is.
Oh please, Hades.
End me.
For I am nothing without him
For I am a machine without him
For I am everything I do not want to be without him.

Please.

Let me end in a beautiful, tragic way.
And let everyone know that I followed him.
That I am with my heart once again.

—  I am sorry, My Heart.
Ελα κατσε διπλα μου.
Θελω να μιλησω για το τιποτα σε καποιον που ειναι τα παντα για μενα.