i look stupid but who cares

anonymous asked:

morty, do you think your father is stupid?

“What kinda question is that to ask someone?  NO I don’t think he’s stupid, he’s the furthest thing from stupid– h-he’s just a guy who hasn’t had a lot of– luck– in his life and when that happens people– t-they tend to just… accept it.  They accept stop trying so hard because they have a suspicion– feeling– that it’s never going to get any better!  What you’re seeing when you look at Jerry Smith is a man everyone– some more than others– steps on.  That’s all there is to it a-and I don’t care if you heard something different from Rick– he doesn’t know everything.  Not when it comes to this stuff anyway.  Y’know, family?”

“A-a-are we all clear?  Are you picking up what I’m putting down?”

2

Alright this is really stupid. 

In the original series, Ryuk is a Shinigami who’s bored. He’s in the human world cuz he has nothing better to do. he’s not so much evil as a chaotic neutral. He wanted to see what a human would do with a notebook that kills people. 

He could kill people if he chose to, but it’s not like he was being malicious. It’s his job, he’s a Shinigami. 

He’s a monster, but the real monster is the human. 

Light Yagami. 

The fact that Ryuk was frightening in appearance was something of a fakeout, because he’s an observer, not the main evil or anything. 

NOT some mean-spirited babadook-type demon that’s whispering into the human ear, always trying to convince people to do evil. 

He SOUNDS like the green goblin, actually, which is just really stupid. 

Because it makes him sound like he’s the one pressuring Light to turn to the dark side, or some shit. 

I really don’t like this story change.

It just undermines the fact that Light was the true evil.

He was never pressured to do what he did in the original series. HE CHOSE to because he was a crazy megalomaniac. 

This makes it look like this demon is the antagonist, you know?

Like he says, “you don’t have to use it, but I’m going to give it to someone else in 7 days.”

They made it seem like Ryuk’s notebook had to be “passed along” like that stupid fucking box in Wish Upon, you know?

Like “He who wields the Death Note is going to die…and then I’ll find another person to curse with it!”

But in the original it’s literally just a book. You could use it or not. Ryuk didn’t care, he’d still get his souls eventually. 

I think Netflix was trying to make Ryuk look like the typical scary demon. Like one of the many generic demons they have in their horror movie section. 

They wanted Death Note to be like a horror movie, hence the Final Destination deaths instead of the boring, mundane “heart attacks.” 

Hence the stupid scene in the abandoned orphanage, where L’s name was. 

And by doing so…they’ve essentially abandoned the more cerebral, high-minded nature of the original Death Note. 

They decided “hey, let’s make something terrifying and ominous” instead of making it about a battle of wits, a suspenseful detective kind of drama. 

Where you get to see the serial killer and detective play a dangerous dance of sorts. 

Instead you get…gory deaths. 

Final Destination deaths. 

Hence why Light is in HIGH SCHOOL, not college.

Because he can be the victim of childish school bullying, for one thing.

But also because high school puts you at that high-emotional period of your life where injustice feels much more dramatic and personal than the deadened college student feels. 

And in general,horror movies like high schoolers.

Like their vulnerability. And the angst gold mine. 

Light is doing other people’s homework for them. 

He’s a “troubled” youth who’s angry at the world. His mom died to a criminal who’s going to get off with connections and money. His dad is “weak.” He has an edgy girlfriend who “understands” him. 

But what’s dumb about that is that the original Light Yagami was highly educated. He didn’t panic or get furious that often. He was an evil mastermind with lofty aspirations and condescending arrogance that lead to him trying to make himself the “god” of a new world. He didn’t care about his girlfriend. He was calm and collected and ready for the challenge of outwitting L.

He did NOT start crying and panicking the second L was on his tail. 

Him being a college student was an important part of that. It made him more mature, more ready to be an “adult.”

Light being a teenager just makes him look like a dumb kid being tricked by an evil demon. 

Edit: I don’t know why I thought light was a college student in the original. I guess he just seemed like one and Japanese high schools are just much cleaner and better taken care of, so it looked like it…my bad. But my opinion still stands. Light wasn’t a bullied edgy teen. He was arrogant and intelligent. Not pouty.

Another edit: Also, the fucking prom scene and the “romantic” ferris wheel? They were trying to make him look like an “Average teenage boy” who accidentally fell into the wrong crowd, the demonic crowd lmao, and was bullied into doing “bad things” and manipulated by his girlfriend. 

It was lazy. 

A lazy way of making Death Note look like a horror movie.

Shame on you netflix. 

The 3 Elements of a FLAWED Character

You know that moment when you find an old notebook, and you start reading the story you were writing years ago, and after about one page…  

And then after a few more paragraphs … 

This has happened to me several times. On every occasion I want to curl up in a small box and wait until everyone forgets I was ever a writer. And every time, no matter which old story it is, what sends me crawling into that box is the same thing: the main character. Even after I had learned to incorporate empathetic qualities into my heroes (as listed in the last post), my protagonists were still deeply annoying – if not more unbearable than before. 

Why? What made them this way? They had winningly empathetic traits! Were they terrible people still? No, and that was the problem. They were perfect. Smart. Noble. Brave. They had dazzling martial arts skills. They loved people and people loved them. They were Chosen in some way and destined for greatness. Angst-plagued though, of course. They were tragic little heroes, misunderstood and abused, driven by the desire to vanquish all who caused them suffering.  

I could’ve composed a Gaston-like song enumerating their virtues and sorrows. 

And the only thing that would’ve made them more punchable is if they did use antlers in all of their decorating.

Characters can’t be completely likable. Yes, they must possess strengths that win the reader’s empathy, but without an equal amount of flaws … they can’t function. If they’re not flawed, they shouldn’t be the main character. Story is about someone changing, for better or worse. Under the surface, all good stories are about this process of human growth or decline. So if a hero is perfect from the beginning, there’s nowhere they need to go. And consequently, there’s no reason for a reader to follow. 

The inclination to follow a story is begun with interest in the premise, of course – but it is locked in when empathy occurs, when we begin to care – the moment the reader transposes their own external and internal lives onto a character’s life. A process which starts when a reader recognizes a shared something between themselves and the hero. Sometimes, this is a goal or strength or situation. And sometimes, it’s a flaw. We meet a character that is weak in the same way we are, and a strong internal connection is born between the reader’s life and the life on the page. On a deep level we’re thinking “This person is like me. What happens to them? How do they deal with it?” And because of this connection based on what is lacking in our lives, we want to live the story, see how it ends, and find out how the main character – who is just like us – reached that ending. Because it’s our lives we’re reading about, and if we play it out in advance, maybe we can reach a positive ending too. 

So! In what way should a main character be FLAWED? 

1) Weak in a way that only hurts themselves. 

Let’s call these MIND.

2) Flawed in a way that hurts others. 

Let’s call these MORAL.

The most realistic – and most compelling – characters have both types.  

And if a character has these flaws, the story must be steering them towards what they NEED to overcome them. The main character needs to learn something, a truth, a new way to live. This is the theme of the story. Theme is a statement the story seeks to prove, to the main character and the reader, about how to live a better life. It’s the solution to whatever moral and mental conundrum they’re facing. So … 

3) The SOLUTION to their moral and mental weaknesses. 

How does that work? To illustrate, let’s look at Stitch and Alexander Hamilton. (What a combination.) 

STITCH

Moral: He’s destructive. Violent. Rude. Vindictive.  Manipulative. Enjoys the suffering of his enemies.

 And in general, pushes everyone and everything away.  

Mind: Despite his violent ways, he yearns to belong, and senses that he can’t.

He believes he’s alone, he’s unlovable, he’s monstrous, he’s never had a family and never will – he’s lost, like the Ugly Duckling. He’s missing a family he’s never had.  

Solution: He just needs to start treating people like family to be accepted into one. 

HAMILTON

Moral: He’s selfish. (“Be careful with that one love, he will do what it takes to survive.”) He’s arrogant. He’s self-centered. (Think of the entirety of Burn.) And in his obsessive journey to succeed, he pushes everyone out of his path.  

Mind: He has a fixation on death, on time running out, which drives his manic desire to achieve. (“I imagine death so much it feels more like a memory.) He’s insecure. ("Graduate in two and join the revolution. He looked at me like I was stupid. I’m not stupid.”) 

Solution: Who Lives, Who Dies, Who Tells Your Story? Eliza tells his story. Hamilton’s goal throughout the story is a legacy; he strives to achieve this immortality in any way possible, even if it means neglecting his loved ones, or even ruining their lives. He needs to learn that his loved ones are enough. Eliza is enough. And through her, he will live on. 

What would have happened if they weren’t flawed? The stories would have been boring. What would have happened if their flaws had been treated like attributes that didn’t have to change? The stories would have ceased to be. Progress couldn’t happen, because by accepting the status quo of their mental and moral states, we’re refusing the call to adventure outright. They’d just exist in the same state they were in the setup, stagnant, somewhat lifeless. Flawed characters must motor towards that NEED, or solution, that will save their lives. 

(I realize this “need” element is rather vague, so it’ll get its own post.)  

But in conclusion, this balance of strengths and flaws – and how this fictional person deals with the adventure they’re thrown into – is what makes a main character compelling, empathetic, and real. 

So when I unearth a notebook years in the future, containing one of stories I’m writing now, maybe the main character won’t make me feel like this:

Maybe it’ll even be like this: 

And best of all, maybe one of those characters will make a reader somewhere feel understood and helped and not alone. Wow. That would be amazing.

Well, there’s my writing motivation for today. I’m going to go make my main character more of a lovable jerk.

I promise it won’t be easy. There will be days where we fight, especially over stupid things like who left the coffee pot on again.

There will be times where I’ll yell at you to go sleep on the couch but I swear, every single time in the middle of the night, I’d tell you to come back to bed because god knows I can’t sleep properly without you.

We won’t always be that couple people would want to look up to, but we will be that couple where we don’t care about what anyone else thinks.

Like for instance, we can be sitting at a resturant and all of a sudden, you’re putting straws into your nose and pretending that you’re a walrus and everytime, I would laugh.

Even if the joke dies down about after the fifth time and people are staring at us, I promise to always laugh.

And I know it won’t be easy, because we both do things that makes the other person crazy but we are we, and I love you and I’m willing to wake up every day going through life loving you, even on the days where we both can barely stand each other.

Because honestly, there is no where else I would rather wake up at if it isn’t beside you.
—  A.M// for jake, it won’t be easy but i promise to always love you.

wingardium-letmefuckyou  asked:

Hey, I love your gods&monsters series, could you write something about Apollo? ^Preferably something with a positive vibe, something romantic... But that's totally up to you, anything about Apollo makes me happy

Apollo has many sons.

He only ever has nine daughters.

~

He has his first when he’s young, too young to know better.

Daphne is beautiful and coy, and leads him on a merry chase. He catches her, and finally silences her laughing mouth with his own. They sleep together, and she leaves bite marks up his neck.

Her father, the river god Peneus, finds out about them. Apollo had not known it was secret. Peneus is a hard, selfish god, and he slits Daphne’s throat for her impurity. Better a dead daughter then one who does not listen.

Apollo finds out too late. He arrives to Daphne dead on the side of her father’s riverbank, stomach swollen in a way Apollo doesn’t remember it being the last time he saw her, which was – which was – it couldn’t have been that long, could it?

He cuts open her stomach, throat too tight to call for his sister’s help, heart too tight to bear anyone else looking at Daphne’s slack, bloody face.

The child is still warm.

The child is still alive.

He cannot bring himself to bury Daphne, to sentence her to an afterlife beneath the earth. Instead, he transforms her into a large laurel tree, so her beauty will remain eternal. He presses a hand against her trunk and says, “My hair will have you, my lyre will have you, my quiver will have you.” Apollo looks down at the baby, too small, tucking into the crook of his arm. “Our daughter will have you.”

He calls her Calliope. Their daughter weaves laurel leaves into her hair every day of her life.

~

When he is older, but not wiser, he gets drunk on the top of Olympus. It is not the first time, nor the last, but this time it is different.

This time Hestia, goddess of the hearth, of warmth, of family, places her delicate hand around the back of his neck and leads him to her rooms.

Months later, he lands his chariot, the sun finally set. His arms are shaking, and his legs are covered from burns when the sun grew tired and tried to consume him, but could not. Hestia stands before him, something held in her arms. “What’s wrong?” he asks roughly, throat dry and the skin of his lips cracking. Hestia rarely leaves Olympus.

“I am no mother,” she tells him, and he doesn’t understand until she places a warm, squirming bundle in his arms. He holds it to his chest automatically. “Her name is Terpsichore.”

She leaves before he has the chance to question her. He looks down, and the baby has his golden eyes and her dark hair. “Hello, little one.”

Calliope is fully grown now. Apollo leaves Terpsichore in her care, and promises to come when called.

“Yes, Father,” Calliope says, rolling her eyes as her little sister grabbing fistfuls of her curly hair. There’s an ink smudge across her face, and her home is bursting with books. He should really talk to Athena about letting Calliope use one of her libraries.

He kisses both their foreheads before leaving.

~

Apollo falls in love with a Spartan prince, graceful and strong and with a wide, pretty mouth. He falls in love with a mind that can match him, with a smile that leaves him breathless. Hyacinth captures his affections and attentions utterly, and for a few short years Apollo is enchanted, for a few short years Apollo feels a love deep in his chest that is only surpassed by the love he has for his sister.

Then Hyacinth is killed.

He shows up at his daughters’ door, and Calliope and Terpsichore take one look at him and usher him inside. He can’t bring himself to speak, but he’s covered in blood that isn’t his own, is pale and shaken and mourning.

They clean him and care for him and settle him to bed, although he cannot bring himself to sleep.

Less than a week later, there is a mortal woman there looking for him. Her eyes are red, but she stands tall and her lips are pressed into a straight line. A toddler who shares her dark coloring clutches her skirt. “I am the Princess of Sparta, and wife of Hyacinth.”

Apollo hadn’t known Hyacinth had a wife. He hadn’t asked. Surely he would have noticed – but then again, perhaps not. Love makes people stupid. “I am sorry for your loss.”

“As I am sorry for yours,” she says in return, which surprises him. “Sparta must have a prince. I am to be remarried.” She brings the little girl forward, and she can’t be more than a couple years old. “This is Urania, the child of myself and my husband. I have been ordered to kill her.”

Apollo flinches. He knows such things are done, but – she is Hyacinth’s daughter. “I will take her.”

She smiles. “I thought you might.” She kisses the girl on both cheeks, hands her to Apollo, then leaves as quickly as she’d came.

Urania watches them with big liquid eyes that she got from her mother. He stays with his daughters for a year after that, playing with Urania and watching Terpsichore dance and listening to Calliope’s beautiful poetry. Urania loves the stars. She stares up at them each night, and Apollo patiently explains the name of each one.

When she is fully grown, he begs a piece of ambrosia off Hestia and feeds it to her.

Urania is his daughter as surely as if his blood ran through her veins. He cannot bear to watch her age and die.

~

Marpessa chooses Ida over him, but it is too late. She already swells with his child, and he could use that to keep her. He could force her to stay at his side, she loves him, she said so, it would not be such a cruel thing.

But she is not wrong in her assessment. Apollo is immortal, and will not grow old with her, will not change with her, will not die with her. Ida will.

There’s fear on her face, and he thinks she deserves it, for proclaiming to love him and choosing another. But he is not interested in keeping her captive for a lifetime.

“Have the child, and give it to me,” he commands, “and I will leave you to your life.”

Ida is furious in his jealousy that Marpessa will bear a child for Apollo before she bears a child for him, so there is that comfort, at least.

Artemis delivers the child to ensure it goes smoothly. She’s beaming as she holds her niece. “What will you call her?”

“You choose,” he says, running the back of his finger over the babe’s soft cheek.

His sister considers the squalling child for a long moment before she says, “I think you should name her Thalia.”

“Thalia it is,” he says.

She’s mischievous, and reminds him of himself on his worst days. She grows, and pulls pranks on nymphs and deities. Her older sisters are constantly straining to keep her out of worse trouble.

He gets a frantic message from Calliope that Thalia has gone missing, and he eventually finds her at the edge of a scorched battlefield, the soldiers long gone but the bodies and stench remaining. He’s furious at her for going to a place so dangerous, but when he marches up to her he sees something that he hadn’t expected.

She’s hallway through a story about pranking a wood nymph that he knows is at least half lies and a quarter exaggeration. Curled up on the ground, clutching his stomach as he laughs so hard he can’t breathe, is Ares.

Apollo hasn’t seen the tormented god of war this carefree since he was a child.

Thalia finally notices him, and cuts herself off, paling. “Oh, uh. Hi Dad.”

Ares is downright giggling. “Hello Thalia,” Apollo crosses his arms and glares, “You shouldn’t go wandering away from your sisters.” She winces and nods, ducking her head to look up at him through her eyelashes, doing her best to look contrite and innocent.

It might have worked, if Apollo hadn’t taught her that look himself.

He sits down on the ground next to Ares, who doesn’t acknowledge his presence beyond shifting enough to use Apollo’s thigh as his pillow. “Well,” Apollo says, “keep going.”

Thalia lights up and launches back into the story, and when she finishes she continues into another which is mostly true and somehow even more ridiculous.

~

Because he’s an idiot with a death wish, Apollo ends up spending a month with Hecate in the underworld. He stumbles out one night when she falls asleep, because he feels if he doesn’t leave now there’s a possibility that he never will.

One of the most horrifying moments of his life is looking for the way out, and finding Hades instead. The god of death looks to him, walking around naked in his realm, to the direction he came from, and says, “That was you? Are you crazy?”

“It … it was a good time,” he says faintly.

“Obviously,” Hades shakes his head, and slices his hand down in the air in front of them, creating a doorway for Apollo out of his realm.

Apollo gives him a clumsy salute and steps through.

Roughly a year later, he’s playing his lyre when a little girl with black skin and grey hair and eyes appears in front of him. It’s terrifying enough that he accidentally snaps one of his strings.

“Lady Styx,” he says, voice higher pitched than normal. “Is there something I can help you with?”

The child snorts and reaches her hands into absolutely nothing and pulls out a baby. She holds it out to him. “Hecate says this is your problem now.”

Improbably, the babe already has a mouth full of too-sharp teeth. Her eyes shift between every color, unable to decide, and there is something a little too knowing about her face for one so young. Artemis says he too was born knowing too much.

A child of Apollo and Hecate can only be a mistake, something that will never fit quite well among others of her own kind.

He sighs and take the baby. “Very well.”

“I like the name Clio,” the child goddess says before leaving him.

Thalia tells him it’s too small and to give it back. Urania is fascinated, and takes over most of the child’s care, which is likely for the best since Calliope is neck deep into a new epic, and would be cross if she needed to pull her attention from it to rear a child.

As Clio ages, she stays just as unsettling and strange. Hephaestus shows up around the time she starts breaking into Athena’s libraries, even though stunts like that get people worse than killed. “I don’t know why she gave her to me,” Apollo says as they watch the teenager devouring a stolen tome on the history of the Persian Empire. “Hecate raised you, I don’t understand why she didn’t want to raise her actual daughter.”

“You’re a better parent than she is,” he says thoughtfully. Apollo gives him an unimpressed look, but he says, “I’m serious. Your girls are turning out to be quite lovely – all of them.”

“Of course they are,” he says, nose in the air, but grins when Hephaestus elbows him the side.

By the time she’s an adult, Clio is easily one of the most accomplished scholars to ever exist. She and Athena regularly get into academic debates that last weeks, and scare off anyone from daring to come closer.

She stays strange, and too smart, and Apollo loves her utterly.

~

Apollo is lying on the beach when a large wave overtakes him and drags him into the sea. He struggles for the surface, but can’t seem to shake the waves, and is dragged to the sea floor. He’s a god, so he won’t suffocate, but he’s terrified when the water drags him down to Poseidon’s palace and deposits him in front of his wife. “Apollo,” she says, “I can see what your daughters will become.”

He has no idea what she’s talking about. “Excuse me?”

Amphitrite grabs his jaw and pulls him closer. He doesn’t dare resist. She looks into his eyes, then smirks. “The god of prophecy doesn’t know that which he has wrought. How … ironic.”

“Is it?” he wonders. He really hopes she doesn’t kill him.

“Quite,” she smirks, and with a flick of her wrist she’s naked before him. “I wish for one of your daughters to be mine as well. Lay with me.”

“Uh,” he says eloquently, because Amphitrite has never given her husband any children, he hadn’t even known she could. If he sleeps with her, Poseidon might kill him, regardless of how many people the god of the sea sleeps with that aren’t his wife. But if he refuses her, she might kill him, and it’s not like having sex with Amphitrite is any sort of hardship. She’s as gorgeous as she is terrifying. “Okay.”

He’s deposited back on the shore the next day, feeling oddly used.

If Poseidon has any opinions on Apollo knocking up his wife, he doesn’t voice them.

Amphitrite doesn’t foist the baby upon him as soon as she’s born. Instead years pass, and one day a dark skinned, amber eyed sea god shows up at his door. There’s a teenager at his side, who has Apollo’s coloring and Amphitrite’s bone structure, and hair that shimmers golden-green in sunlight. “Glaucus,” Apollo greets warily, “and who might this be?”

“I call her Erato,” Glaucus says, “I’ve raised her since birth. It’s time for her to join her sisters.”

Erato is not as terrifying as her mother. Instead there’s a sweetness about her that she must have gotten from Glaucus. She’s shy at first, and spends many days looking out into the sea. But his daughters are persistent, and soon she’s laughing and joining them. There’s something dreamy about her, and she loves love, writes romantic ballads and beautiful poems, so much so that Aphrodite commends her talent.

Erato is also the most like him in the area of her love life, meaning she leaves behind a constant trail of heartbroken men and women.

Calliope complains about the constant wailing around their home, and Clio proves she has some of her mother’s talent with magic when she casts an unplotable spell around their home so former lovers stop following Erato home. Of course, she forgets to tell both Apollo and her sisters about this, and it’s very confusing for everyone until Clio remembers to tell them where the house is.

His daughters’ home is a place of constant music, poetry, and literature. He thinks he’s starting to suspect what Amphitrite was talking about.

~

Not all hunts are easy things.

Apollo feels the moment his sister is wounded, the arrow through her abdomen as painful for him as it is for her. He’s in his chariot, and he can’t leave it, if he leaves his chariot unattended the sun will consume it, and then consume the earth. “Calliope!” he snaps, and his eldest daughter appears by his side.

“Father?” she asks, huddling into him and away from the sun. “What’s going on?”

“Artemis is hurt, I have to help,” he says urgently, and places the reins into her hands. “You can do this.”

She pales, but steps forward, keeping a white knuckled grip on the chariot. “Go.”

He kisses his forehead, and goes to his sister. Her huntresses have set up an honor guard around her, defending and dying as cruel faced giants draws closer. “ARES!” he screams, and he doesn’t know what they’re fighting for, what this war is about, but it doesn’t matter. “WE NEED YOU!”

The god of war appears, and he’s clearly come from some other battle, covered in mud and other worse things. He throws himself into the battle, but it’s not until they gain more aid that the tides turn in their favor.

He first sees Erato on the field, water swirling around her as she slices through them all, the power of her mother making her golden eyes glow. Clio is at her back, the glittering magic Hecate passed on to her filling her hands.

Thalia has long curved knives flying from her fingers, and all who face her don’t figure out they’re dead until she’s already left them behind. Urania is letting loose arrows against the giants and though she’s not his by blood, not a goddess by birth, none would know it watching each of her arrows hit true and take down another enemy.

Terpsichore uses her honed abilities of dance differently here on the battlefield, twirling and ducking around enemies with her sword flashing as it slices through all who go against her. Celestial fire licks up the sword, and the daughter of Hestia and Apollo is laughing as she dances through the battlefield.

He wants to yell at them, to tell them to get off the battlefield, to get to safety. But it is thanks to them that the fight is being won, so he says nothing.

Ares looks around, grimaces, and catches Apollo’s eye before he disappears from the battle. They must be invoking his name. Apollo is only grateful he managed to stay as long as he did.

The giants are all dead by the time Apollo manages to make it to his sister’s side. She’s pale and covered in blood, her huntresses seated around her and trying to stop the bleeding. “What were you thinking?” Apollo demands, grabbing her hand and pushing her hair from her forehead. Terpsichore comes forward and lays her burning sword against the wound, sealing and cauterizing it at once. Both Apollo and Artemis scream

“They – took – a – child,” she pants, leaning in for his touch, for his comfort, and he has never been able to deny her anything. He pulls her up, biting back a scream at the pain that rips through them both, and props her up against his chest. “A – nymph’s child. Zeus’s child. They killed – it’s mother. That – that sort of injustice will – will not be – tolerated.” She lays her head back against his shoulder, tears leaking from the corner of her eyes, and Apollo almost wishes the battle were not over, because he wants to murder something.

“I’ll get it,” Erato says, and a moment later she returns with a toddler in her arms. She has the copper skin of Zeus, and pale blonde hair. “What do we do now? Zeus does not care for his children.”

“I think it’s time you became a big sister,” Thalia says, and Erato looks stricken. “Right Dad?”

He looks to his sister, who nods. “I can think of no better place for her. She cannot stay with me – a hunting party is not place for children.”

“Very well,” he sighs. “Does she have a name?”

The girl attempts to hide behind Erato’s hair, then says, “I am Euterpe.”

“Welcome, Euterpe,” he says.

It’s then that the sun finally sets, and Calliope stumbles into existence next to them. She’s covered in deep, bleeding burns, but it’s not as bad he feared it would be. She’s certainly faired better at her first time driving the chariot than he had. “What’s happening? Is everything all right?”

“We have a new sister,” Thalia says brightly, even as Clio rushes forward to tend to her burns.

Euterpe, thankfully, seems to inherit none of Zeus’s madness. She has a singing voice like a clear bell, and soon surpasses even Calliope’s talent with the lyre.

He knows, technically, that Euterpe is his half-sister. But it takes him no time at all to regard her as his daughter, to love her with same simple ferocity as he loves her sisters.

~

For a while, all is well, is quiet. His daughters are all fully grown, accomplished and beautiful.

Then Demeter corners him when he’s walking through quiet city and pins him against an alley wall. “If Amphitrite thinks she can one up me over this,” the goddess hisses, “she’s sorely mistaken.”

At least this time he knows what’s going on when Demeter starts pulling her dress off. “You can’t raise the child,” he says. He’s not adverse to laying with Demeter, although at this rate it looks like there will be less laying and more standing against a rough alley wall. But Demeter only knows how to love in a way that crushes all it touches. He won’t let her do that to his child.

“Fine,” she snaps, “Now get moving.”

He’s vaguely terrified the whole time, and it mostly reminds him of his month with Hecate. He’s left alone and naked in the alleyway an hour later.

Nine months later, a baby is delivered to his door by a nervous wood nymph. His daughter still has the squashed appearance of a freshly born baby. “She didn’t waste any time,” he comments, settling her into the crook of his arms. “Does she have a name?”

“Polyhymnia, my lord,” the wood nymph says, then bows before fleeing.

He brings her to the home where all his daughters live.

She grows, and she’s the spitting image of Demeter, of Persephone back when she answered to the name Kore. Her voice is lower than Euterpe’s, but just as pretty and when they sing together it’s the most beautiful sound he’s ever heard. She’s quiet, and thoughtful, her big brown eyes watching all around her with a measured stare.

Polyhymnia asks after her mother, something none of the others had done, and Apollo doesn’t know what to say. The truth is too callous, but he can’t bear to lie to her. Instead he begs an audience with Persephone, and says, “Your sister asks after the mother you share. I don’t know what to tell her.”

Persephone has no advice to offer, but she starts spending some of her time outside of the underworld with Polyhymnia. It is enough, and her questions stop, and Apollo tries not to feel guilty that he never really answered them.

~

Cassandra is unlike any woman he’s ever met, unlike any person he’s ever met, and the flames of love and passion burn inside him in a way they haven’t since his Hyacinth died.

She’s bull headed and irritating, and whenever he tries to complain about it Artemis rolls her eyes and his daughters laugh at him. He supposes he’s not doing a very good job hiding that he’s in love with her. Not even from her, because at one point she crossly asks if he’s ever planning to do anything with her, or if she should accept the offer from the butcher’s son.

They don’t leave her house for five days.

She is curious, hungry for knowledge, hungrier for it then she is of him. She wants to know impossible things, wants to be an impossible thing, and so Apollo laughs and takes her hand and says, “I will make you a bargain. I will give you the gift of prophecy, if you will grant me the gift of your hand.”

He’s never take a bride before. He hasn’t wanted to.

Cassandra is screaming and laughing, and she throws her arms around his neck and kisses him until she’s breathless. He takes it as a yes.

That’s when everything goes horribly, incredibly wrong.

It’s too much, all the horror she sees is too much, and Apollo tries to tell her to focus on the good, to see the happiness of the future. But she can’t, gets too caught up in too many wars, and she wastes away in front of his eyes even as her stomach swells.

He tries to take back the gift, tries to save her, but he can’t. It cannot be ungiven, and his headstrong, vivacious lover fades before his eyes. He only manages to alter it, to change it so no one believes the horrible things she cries to prevent the horror people feel when she looks at them and screams the way that they’ll die.

Artemis helps deliver their child, but halfway through her face goes pinched and worried, and Apollo knows that Cassandra won’t make it.

“I’m sorry,” he weeps, kissing her gaunt face, feeling the sharpness of her cheekbones under his lips, “I’m so sorry, I didn’t know this would happen. I didn’t want this to happen.”

She looks at him with glassy eyes, barely reacts when Artemis places their child on her chest. There’s a growing pool of blood under her, but she can’t be saved, she will die, here, now.

Apollo wonders if she saw this coming.

She blinks, and meets his gaze with a sharpness and awareness he hasn’t seen for a long time. “She is your last daughter,” Cassandra says, “Melpomene is the last daughter you will have.”

He kisses her, his last chance to do so.

She’s dead before his lips leaves hers.

Apollo tries to flee, to run from the claws tearing apart his heart, but Artemis doesn’t let him. She yanks him back and pushes Melpomene into his arms. “You can’t leave,” she says harshly, “She needs you. Your daughter needs you. You’re not allowed to run.”

He crumples, leaning his head onto his sister’s shoulder as he sobs, and her calloused hand grasps the back of his neck. Melpomene is stuck between them, soft and warm and alive.

Time passes.

Melpomene is Thalia’s other half, her best friend, and they do everything together. Her dark hair is a mass of unruly curls just like her mother, her laughter is just like her mother’s.

She, like her sisters, is his pride and his joy.

~

Apollo has nine daughters

Calliope, who reigns over written epics.

Terpsichore, who reigns over dance.

Urania, who reigns over astronomy.

Thalia, who reigns over comedy.

Clio, who reigns over history.

Erato, who reigns over love poetry.

Euterpe, who reigns over song.

Polyhymnia, who reigns over hymns.

Melpomene, who reigns over tragedy.

They are known as the Muses.


gods and monster series, part xxi

read more of the gods and monsters series here

Six Years and Seven Days

This is pretending that Bellamy could hear Clarke talking all those years, she just can’t hear him responding, and that the ship at the end is them coming back to Earth. 

So…pain. 


Day Three

“Bellamy…are you up there? Are you alive? Is anyone alive?”

Static.

“I only woke up yesterday. At least, I think it was yesterday. I barely made it into the bunker in time, but I made it. And the computer says it’s been three days since the radiation hit, and I was so hungry I thought I might die. Please tell me you didn’t die.”

Silence.

“Bellamy, my mom was right. In a way. My face is disgusting, covered in boils. You’d be laughing at me…probably. Because she was right but so were you. I’m not dead Bellamy. I hope you aren’t either.”

His fingers slammed on the respond button, pushing it down to the point of it feeling like it would crack from the pressure.

“I’m not dead, Clarke. I’m not dead.”

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Taken for Granted (pt 3)

As Namjoon closed the door behind him, he stood by the entrance, snickering to himself. “Her? Liking me? Wahh” he said silently to himself. He wasn’t sure what it was he was feeling now, but he couldn’t stop smiling. “As if I’d like her?” he said again to himself.

“Hyung what are you doing by yourself there?” Jungkook asked curiously.

“Huh? Oh nothing” Namjoon said, flustered.


(One week later)

“Hey guys, Y/N isn’t coming today! Looks like it’s just us tonight” Jin said, filling his voice through the dorm.

“Awh, whyyy” Taehyung asked, coming out of the living room.

“She said she’s sick” Jin said with a frown.

“Let’s go there then! We can bring her food” Taehyung said, excitedly.

“Yah, if she’s sick she should just rest. She can’t be taking care of you guys too” Jin scolded.

Taehyung walked back to the living room with his head held down. He was looking forward to watching the movie you two had discussed a few weeks ago, but it looks like it would have to wait another week. 

Namjoon meanwhile, listened to everything silently from the dining table. “That’s weird, she never falls sick…” he said to himself. 

“What’s that? Couldn’t hear you” Hoseok said, sitting across from him,

“oh, no it’s nothing” Namjoon said.

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You couldn’t look at me.

I was right there, and you couldn’t look at me.

Maybe it killed you to see that I could smile without you, that I could laugh with someone who wasn’t you. Maybe you finally realized that I could breathe and live, and that I didn’t need you after all.

Because at some point I got tired of chasing, chasing someone who was never going to come around. I was a fool, going back and forth playing your stupid, little game. The difference between you and I though, I tried to get through to your heart - I cared, I loved, and you didn’t. You could’ve let me in, you should’ve let me in, you needed to let me in.

But you made a decision, and your decision wasn’t me.

—  c.f. // “game over”

KaciartKaciart
He’s being bullied by some of the kids in the school
Because Noctis snubs everyone but Prompto

DraiadDraiad
they’d get so jealous

KaciartKaciart
So as an act of self preservation he starts trying to not be caught alone with Noctis so much
Always willing to go to Nocts place but less willing to go to the arcade
Of course the bullies are clever enough to never do it around Noctis and his entourage

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I swear, one more “lol men are mediocre” post crosses my dash and I’m going to completely lose it. 

Like… is that something you’d say to the face of the men in your life? There is probably at least one guy you care about, whether it’s a family member or a friend or a former mentor. Could you really look that person in the face and go ‘lmao men are mediocre’?

And if not, can you maybe consider that they might stumble across your stupid, stupid, stupid poorly-considered rant and think that it’s about them? 

And that’s not all. Most of y’all who post this crap consider yourselves to be SJWs. Fighting for the fucking side of right, all that. If you do this- if you constantly post about how men are terrible and mediocre- you’re fucking terrible at social justice. 

Have you considered that your ‘PROTECT [XYZ GROUP] AT ALL COSTS’ rhetoric is completely empty and shallow if you’re not willing to protect all members of that group? Have you fucking considered that some men are POC or queer or trans or disabled?

 If you post “DISABLED PEOPLE ARE AWESOME” and “QUEER PEOPLE ARE AWESOME” every five minutes and then follow it up with “LOL MEN THO”, we know how you really feel. Your ‘support’ for disabled people or queer people only extends to vague internet platitudes. When it comes to, you know, not triggering people with depression, or anxiety, or impostor syndrome? Haha, who cares, there are men to make fun of on the internet! 

In less pretentious language: your support means jackshit. 

Social justice is supposed to be about making the world a less shitty place. It’s supposed to be about making the world a place where no one gets hurt for things they can’t help, no matter what race, creed, or gender they happen to be. 

If you’re not willing to do that? If you’re more interested in petty, mean bullshit against a group you don’t like than helping people?  If your “SJ” is more about sticking it to men or white people or str8s or The Cis than it is about helping raise the people you want to help out?  You fucking fail at justice. You’re looking for an excuse to be mean.

Either admit that you just want an excuse to be mean, or stop doing this. Shit or get off the pot.  

Signed: A queer, trans, disabled man who is so tired of your crap you don’t even know

I still can not believe that there was not a single adult around me who could have said something like, “this is really stupid. Look how sad and uncomfortable he is. Don’t make this kid pose like this.”

I still can not believe that whoever took this picture didn’t care enough to wait for the kitten to look at the camera, or fix my collar. 

It’s almost like I was a prop for these people.

the signs as people from my university
  • Aries: That girl who loves partying and socializing with people, she's a fangirl of so many buffed-up singers and she's so pretty. She's kinda judgmental and she's homophobic but she follows so many gay people and likes their posts and nobody in my generation really understands why. She can be really impulsive sometimes and she hates classes but she's a good friend and a funny person
  • Taurus: That girl who is always late, she has social anxiety and she's silent af. Grades are not her forte'. She tries to socialize very hard and everyone is annoyed by the fact that she tries to discuss things that she really doesn't know shit about. She is afraid of some professors, she is christian af and she is kinda lost, but she's a good girl who believes in the supernatural and she always invites us to coffee at her place
  • Gemini: The girl who loves spending time with people, she always loves to discuss about every topic, she knows so much about many things, she's doing great with her grades and she's among the top 5 students in the entire generation. Also, she has PERFECT, sonorous American accent and everybody loves it. She always initiates coffee gatherings but nobody really comes because she's not that much of a leader and her voice is so soft so nobody could really hear when she's talking. She's also a passionate gamer AND in the same time she finds time to maintain her grades and social life
  • Cancer: That (jock) guy who's the tallest one, he's blonde, buffed-up and he's the definition of a straight white boy. He's childish as fuck and he can become very boring sometimes. Once, my colleagues have shooed him out of the cafeteria because he was bothering them. He also tells so many stupid dad-jokes and laughs at his own jokes, flirts with some professors, has been single since forever (not that he's ugly - he's average looking but he's so much boring sometimes because he doesn't have any real friends and he gets excited about people so he doesn't know WHEN to stop). He literally flirts with every single female human being that he can find and he pushes them all away because he's pushy af. He's also introverted and doesn't really know his way with girls
  • Leo: That girl who's one of the top students in the generation. She's always smiling, she has the best grades, she always tries to present this "perfect" image of herself. She is very intelligent and she loves reading, she gets drunk like every second day but that doesn't stop her from maintaining her perfect grades. She's very successful and she's a good leader, she knows all the fresh gossip and she always sits in the first row with her best university friend. In fact, she and her best uni friend are hated by everyone because they're just so successful and everyone's jealous of them. She also secretly hates everybody and gossips with her best uni friend. She and her friend have tons of screenshots ready to blackmail people if anyone says anything against them lmao. But everyone (every zodiac sign) in this generation pretends we like each other so...
  • Virgo: That professor who's VERY detail-oriented and she's a big perfectionist but she can't fix her awful handwriting. She's very successful and she has TONS of potential, she literally KNOWS EVERYTHING about her subjects but sometimes she can really drain us physically and emotionally. She gives us tons of assignments and homework and she always gives us lectures on the most difficult courses. Jfc she behaves like we study in Cambridge / Oxford. But don't get me wrong, she's NOT a bad person. She's actually a VERY good person and at the end of each semester she buys us coffee and tea, she talks with us about our experience with the course and she just wants us to learn some things that we should learn, that's why we perceive her as "difficult" and "problematic"
  • Libra: That girl who loves hugging, has great communication skills and is a social justice warrior. She thinks that she's everyone's friend and she always tries to criticize everyone's opinion, thinking that she'll seem and sound more intelligent. She also listens to rock and metal, she loves children and she smokes a lot, she's very sensitive and she's very friendly. Once, on the Facebook group of the university, she tried to accuse Pisces of something he didn't do and he literally ruined her in front of all those people, that was one of her biggest mistakes she's ever done in uni because she didn't know that that guy can be pretty evil when someone tries to insult/hurt him. The next day in uni she was on the verge of a mental breakdown because that guy really hurt her with his words, making her look stupid and pretentious, and everybody stopped talking to that guy for like, a month or two
  • Scorpio: That girl who's late in class 90% of the time, and those 10% she's not present in class. She is very quiet and she doesn't show particular interest in anything. She doesn't have a taste in fashion and style, unlike most Scorpios that I know. She just wants to go home all the time and nobody knows what she's doing in her life, she's so mysterious and she's not a good teamworker because she doesn't really care about her grades
  • Sagittarius: That girl who can't stop talking and she's always arguing with someone but we all love her. She's very communicative but she's insecure at the same time. She has tons of likes on Facebook and Instagram. She's a VERY open-minded girl, she hates racism, homophobes, nazi scum and racists. She's a really good friend with Leo and Pisces but Capricorn is her bff and her roommate. She has an excellent taste in fashion, style and music and she has S_L_A_Y_I_N_G eyebrows. I think that she's bi/lesbian but maybe she's closeted. She always hugs Capricorn and gets beaten by Capricorn because Capricorn can't stand people touching her
  • Capricorn: That girl who loves vintage notebooks, loves taking studyblr photos and uploads them on tubmlr and Instagram, she loves journeys and we haven't heard her talking for THREE GODDAMN YEARS. She is very antisocial and introverted but she has excellent taste for art, film, music and she's like 24/7 on her phone because it's obvious that she can't stand most of us but she's always sweet and supportive when someone approaches her. Sometimes she doesn't want to talk and she just smiles as a response. She's Sagittarius' best friend and roommate and they've became really close friends. She also loves journeys and she's a daydreamer but she's very intelligent. Her grades are not that good, she's not an attention whore and she tries to be "invisible" but she simply can't
  • Aquarius: That guy with his cockney accent who has insane memory and loves football. He's actually a loner, he's a bit creepy and weird, le loves britpop and indie nd he was one of the best students in the first two years of uni but his grades dropped. He's like, very secretive and he can be pretty arrogant and you just can't sit next to him because he's telling jokes all the time which takes your attention away. He is a loner and once he publicly told us that he used to have cyber sex with his girlfriend because she lived in another country and they've never met in real life (I mean, who tells such things omg Aqua get your shit together). He tries to insult people and he tries to be sarcastic but he can only be sarcastic with the stupid ones. He also thinks that he's a know-it-all and that he's the most intelligent person in the world. He can be really judgmental sometimes and he pushes people away with that
  • Pisces: That guy who always sits in the first row with his best university friend and is one of the top students in the generation. He's also a model, nerd, gamer, works out and whatnot. He is sweet to everyone and talks to everyone but he can be very sassy at times. He was the one who had a verbal fight with Libra because Libra triggered him and he destroyed her verbally. He's really skinny and dreamy and he has a very deep voice and an excellent taste in fashion and style. His style is kinda dark and he's so aesthetic. He listens to some music that no other people in the world listen to but he also listens to some mainstream music. In fact, he listens to whatever he wants and he doesn't really think about what other people think about him. He tends to roll his eyes a lot and he cares about his physical beauty more than he cares about his love life. He's too egotistic and self-centered and he's extremely picky, which makes him single most of the time.

Dear Ex-Best Friend,
So I’m writing this currently and there’s so much I could say but I don’t know how to say any of it. Are you hurting, are you affected by this at all? I’m not trying to come off as an ass but I genuinely want to know are you hurting. I mean when the final decision was made I cried on and off for 2 hours. And currently, I’m still not fully over it. I don’t think I ever will be. I know they’ll be days when I see you at school or on the bus and my heart will just hurt because it’ll make me think of what we used to have and it’ll want that again. I hate the fact that I lost you, my best friend. The memories we shared are ones I’m never going to forget. They’ll always be in the back of my mind and every now and then they’ll come back and show me the amazing life I had with you. You were there for me through pretty much everything whether the problem is big or small. You made me feel like I wasn’t alone and that I didn’t have to feel weird about things. You were also my support and backbone through everything, whether the situation is stupid or serious. You were always there and now not having you here a piece of me is missing. When you left I literally felt my heart just break and then I felt empty, but now I don’t know what I feel. I just feel nothing I guess. I wanted you to be the friend that when my kids asked “Mom who is your best friend?”, I could say you. I wanted us to be the 2 old crazy ladies in the nursing home dancing to One Direction. I wanted you to be the one to help me plan my wedding and my baby shower(s). I wished and wished that we could be those friends that their bond lasts forever, but it was only just a wish. Eventually, I’ll move on but I’ll never forget you, and I hope you’ll never forget me. I still look at your page and from an outside point of view it looks like you don’t care, but I don’t really know that. I hope I don’t look stupid for crying all that time and just wishing it was a dream that I could wake up from. I hope that I’m not the only one who now has a piece of their heart missing that’ll never be found. I hope one day along the road possibly we can bump into each other and automatically connect like nothing ever bad happened. I’m probably hoping for something that’s never going to happen but hey, a girl can only hope. I guess this is goodbye. I don’t want it to be but it has to. Well, bye I guess and I hope you have a good life.

Sincerely,
Your ex best friend

The Habit of Planning

Prompt: During a busy day at Central Park, Lin mistakes Y/N as a paparazzi and he is not happy.

Pairing: Lin x reader

Words: 4,759 (brace yourselves)

A/N: I’ve been writing for this for so long, I’m glad it’s out of my head. I wrote the basis of the fic under the tags for ‘Monochrome’, and a couple of you guys happened to read it and told me I should write it! So thank you to all of you! I hope you guys enjoy!

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Lay Off, Anxiety

Prinxiety - [Prince (Fanciful side) x Anxiety]

Summary: Prince tries to convince Anxiety to leave Thomas alone. In the process he finds out that his lover happens to be ticklish. [WARNING THIS IS A TICKLE FIC]

I love feedback! Critique is greatly appreciated! PROUD OF ME! I posted two fics one day! And both are Prinxiety, so yes. Just Yes. I’m sorry if this is shit. I have no way to tell as i am the writer and for some reason, in my experience, as a writer it is hard to tell teh quality of your own work. *shrug* les see how it turns out, the other one got 50 notes in two hours so fuck yeah! ALSO I AM SHIT AT TITLES!

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SO I WAS GOING TO WAIT TO POST THIS UNTIL ERIDAN FINISHED WRITING THE STORY TO GO ALONG WITH IT. BUT WHAT THE HELL? WHO CARES ABOUT CONTEXT?

OK, A LITTLE CONTEXT: ERIDAN AND I GOT TALKING ABOUT WHAT IF THE GAME HAD NEVER HAPPENED AND WE WENT ON TO LEAD “NORMAL” LIVES ON ALTERNIA. THIS PICTURE IS THE HATCHLING OF THE STORY WE WOVE DURING THAT CONVERSATION AND IT BASICALLY HINGES ON THE IDEA THAT ERIDAN IS SET TO BECOME AN OFFICER/CAPTAIN IN THE IMPERIAL SPACE FLEET WHEN A STROKE OF PURE STUPIDITY DRIVES HIM TO COMMANDEER AN IMPERIAL VESSEL AND ITS UNWITTING CREW TO SAVE HIS MUTANT MOIRAIL FROM CERTAIN DEATH. IDIOTIC ADVENTURES ENSUE. 

SO YEAH. LOOK OUT FOR THAT.

  • D.Va: *On the floor swinging around a handheld* *Opens mouth and receives projectile dorito*
  • Orisa: *Throws another dorito* How could I do this? How could I be so stupid?! This could destroy Numbani…
  • Bastion: Nubani?! Who cares about Numbani?! What about US?! That THING is a killing machine!
  • D.Va: *Squirming on the floor focused on a game*
  • Bastion: I bet it’s just waiting for us to fall asleep… And then WHAM! We’re easy prey my friend, easy prey, we’re sitting targets…
  • D.Va: *Chugs entire thing of mountain dew*
  • Bastion: Ok look, I think I have a plan here, using mainly spoons, we dig a tunnel under the city and release it into the wild!
  • Orisa: … Spoons?
  • Bastion: That’s it, I’m out of ideas. *Tosses blueprint* We’re closed. Airship? Too expensive. Giant gravity cannon? Too conspicuous. Payload cart? Too objective!
  • submitted by testsubject276
Rotten Judgement - part 2

AU!Bucky Barnes x Reader

Summary: Hercules!AU After selling your soul to save your lover’s life, you become one of the Lord of the Underworld’s slave. Bucky is obsessed with one thing: collecting hearts. But why?

Word Count:1,630

Warnings: Language, Angst, Slaves, Demonic creatures, Mythology , Attempt Assault 

A/N: Seriously guys, thank you so much for the nice feedback. I hope I tagged everyone, sorry if I didn’t :/ (As usual some quotes from the movie)

“I know who you work for,” Brock Rumlow, notorious human trash bag, hissed as he pinned you with the weight of his body against a brick wall.

He put his big, calloused hand around your throat and tightened his grip until you were gasping for air. You tried to pull yourself free, but your hands were trapped behind your back. He was breathing so close to your face that you could feel his clammy breath on your skin.

In hindsight, you should have known that Rumlow wasn’t going to be easy an easy target. He was a murderer and a thief, he probably didn’t even have a heart. Your targets were usually old people or horny men, this was a first and you couldn’t understand why Bucky needed his heart. It was most likely all black and corrupted.

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Top 10 moments when ACOMAF shattered my heart in the best way possible

Okay, now that I’ve spent my whole week just living and breathing about ACOMAF… re-reading ACOMAF… and just thinking about it obsessively and telling ALL my friends about it… I feel like now it is a good time to post this. I’m going to post my top 10 moments in ACOMAF where MY HEART BROKE. And I hope you guys can agree–because this fandom is one soul, and we ride and die together.  

10. When Feyre comforts Rhysand after waking him up from his nightmare.

Like first of all, OW. It just breaks my heart over and over to think about what Amarantha did to Rhys, and what scars it left behind. 

But… what broke my heart more was this:

“But–but how many nights had I wanted someone to do the same for me?” 

AND I’M JUST LIKE FEYRE SUFFERED ALONE IN THE SPRING COURT 

Because some stupid High Lord of the Spring Court just pretended to be asleep whenever she vomited her guts out, and pretended everything was all fine and dandy. You claim to love her, and yet, you let this happen. tamlin u shit bag

9. Lucien and Feyre reunion after Feyre goes to the Night Court. 

You gave up on me.” 

Look, guys, I know Lucien is not a bad person. Deep down, he is a good, troubled person who has a lot of his own scars, and I know that he does consider Feyre to be his friend and he does care about her. But he also chooses to yield to Tamlin at the end of everything. He does fight for her, but he doesn’t fight enough against Tamlin. Now, this could be because Tamlin does instill a lot of fear in Lucien–which, if it’s true, it is not a healthy friendship, even if Tam is Lucien’s High Lord. But it makes me wonder, you know. Where is our fiery Lucien, who once spat at Tamlin’s feet? I really do hope that Elain will help him change for the better. Or that he comes to this realization from himself. Man, I love Lucien, but he’s going to have to do a lot more to redeem himself. 

Because, see, even Rhys thinks that Lucien would’ve stepped in.

And this breaks Feyre’s heart, that her friend wouldn’t do this for her. And she would’ve fought for Lucien until the end, no doubt about. 

“I thought so, too” HA HA HA LET ME LIE IN MY OWN PUDDLE OF TEARS

8. The scars that remain with Rhys because of Amarantha. 

The next scene that broke my heart happens during the sexytimes between Feyre and Rhys.

Okay, just re-reading this scene is making me really emotional. So I don’t know if I’m going to be coherent enough to say this. But like, guys. I think this scene is important–and heartbreaking at the same time–because it’s a moment where Rhysand’s scars are acknowledged. Again, it is so rare in YA fiction to see a male character who has been sexually abused, and Sarah explores the scars that remain within Rhysand. And it’s also important because he’s also able to overcome these scars, and find happiness even after the darkest of times.

7. How Rhysand is treated in Velaris vs. Under the Mountain

Okay, so I like how 8 and 7 relate to each other. 

What struck me about this scene was: “no one whispered about him or spat on him or stroked him as they had Under the Mountain”

What really breaks my heart here is that it’s not just Amarantha that violated Rhys. Others did it too, because Amarantha did it, because Rhys was Amarantha’s whore, and therefore, her property. 

And this makes me really sick to my stomach. And it breaks my heart. fuck

6. Feyre realizing how sad she is at the Spring Court before her wedding. 

THIS PHYSICALLY HURTS

my poor baby Feyre 

I spent a good portion of time during the beginning of the novel wanting to wrap her in a warm blanket, hug her, and tell her it’s okay. 

And Tamlin, CAPTAIN OBLIVIOUS, is able to laugh freely. I’m gonna fight him

Even Rhys in Chapter 11 goes: “Months and months, and you’re still a ghost. Does no one there ask what the hell is happening? Does your High Lord simply not care?” (Shall we count this as like an honourable mention moment for when my heart broke into a million pieces… again) 

ha ha ha ha let me DIE my heart can’t take this 

5. Rhysand asks Feyre about her birthday. 

This isn’t a sad scene, but it still moved me and broke my heart because you can obviously tell how much Rhys loves Feyre.

FEYRE’S BIRTHDAY IS THE WINTER SOLSTICE

THE LONGEST NIGHT OF THE YEAR 

“YOU WERE TRULY BORN ON THE WINTER SOLSTICE?” 

YES RHYS MY SMOL SON YOUR MATE WAS BORN ON THE LONGEST NIGHT OF THE YEAR YES YOU TRULY BELONG TOGETHER

But also, like. Rhys seems genuinely sad that Feyre did not celebrate her birthday. Do I foresee belated birthday gift/party in ACOTAR 3? Because yes I will sell my soul for this 

4. Feyre walking away from Rhysand after learning about the mating bond

Okay, no, I totally understand why Feyre is angry enough that she wants some time alone away from Rhysand once she learns from the Suriel that they’re mates. I’ve seen people hating on her for it… but c’mon. Really? You don’t think you’d be angry? Angry enough to walk away? I mean I’d want my own space to think too

But yeah it still broke my heart because Rhysand just calls after her… injured and weakened… ahaha…..ha…. why…

Now we’re rolling into the final 3… and honestly, these broke my heart the most and made me cry. I still want to weep when I think about them. 

3. Rhysand noticing Feyre’s weight loss 

He cares so much about her. *UGLY WAILING* *falls to the floor*

And he makes sure she eats properly. And wants to have breakfast with her. 

RHYSAND YOU PRECIOUS SOUL

cue ugly sobbing, with the snot and everything 

rhysand calling tam out on his shitty behaviour

2. Cassian and Feyre training 

This is still one of my favourite scenes, and I … just. The whole scene leading up to it is an emotional roller coaster–Cassian saying that he’s there for Feyre if she wants to talk about leaving the Spring Court, the whole “I’m fine” thing, and how Feyre just realizes she did everything for Tamlin… and he just…. left her to suffer alone.

He’s ready to take the blow. 

CASSIAN WOULD TAKE THE BLOW. 

BECAUSE HE CARES ABOUT FEYRE AND WANTS TO HELP HER COPE. 

BECAUSE HE UNDERSTANDS.

Rhys is precious, Cassian is precious….. the whole Night Court squad is precious. I just love them so muchhhhhhh. 

And now. .  . okay. 

The final scene had me in full blown tears. 

1. Amren x Feyre 

SHE ASKS RHYS THIS LIKE 3 TIMES

SHE DEMANDS TO KNOW WHERE FEYRE IS 

AND AND AND AMREN ISN’T ALWAYS VOCAL ABOUT HER FEELINGS AND SHE’S SCARY AND SHE’S VICIOUS

BUT SHE LOVES FEYRE

I JUST

IT’S THE MOMENT YOU REALIZE HOW MUCH AMREN–AND THE REST OF THE COURT–ALSO LOVE FEYRE, A FELLOW DREAMER 

I’M DEAD 

D E A D 

LOWER ME TO THE GROUND 

This post also made me very emotional again. Thanks for reading. And if you know want to discuss ACOMAF with me, and the scenes that broke your heart (because there are like 10 million more)… feel free to shoot me a message. 

I’m gonna go read ACOMAF some more and cry by e