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tsoa-incorrect-quotes · 11 months

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Guys I have an AU idea, so when I was rereading The Song of Achilles, I found this:

"She would take him to the caves of the sea and teach him contempt for mortals. She would feed him with the food of the gods and burn his human blood from his veins. She would shape him into a figure meant to be painted on vases, to be sung of in songs, to fight against Troy. I imagined him in black armor, a dark helmet that left him nothing but eyes, bronze greaves that covered his feet. He stands with a spear in each hand and does not know me."

This is what Patroclus thought would happen when Thetis kidnapped Achilles. Before he found out that he was taken to Skyros.

So, what if this is what actually happened, I'll just make a few minor adjustments...

So one night Achilles has a talk with his mom on Mt. Pelion and he decides to ask her if she can see him and Patroclus in the Rose Quartz Cave. Out of curiosity she lies to her son to see what he might do with the knowledge that she is not watching.

She is disgusted and ashamed of her own offspring, she decides to make some dangerous actions. She knows how warriors are raised, she knows her child's potential, she knows he will be a God, and she knows Chiron's magic has limits.

Patroclus wakes up to an empty cave, he searches all throughout Mt. Pelion, but he can see no sign of the blond headed boy. In desperation he asks Chiron, what has happened. The centaur can only look at him in sorrow.

To his horror the centaur tells him, that Thetis has manged to get the attention of Zeus, the king of the Gods, and through desperate negotiations, Zeus has given her permission to take her son. Patroclus is horrified.

"But where?" The dark haired boy cries in desperation.

"If I knew, I would have told you immediately, but alas, she must've taken him to where mortals cannot reach..."The centaur said with much sorrow in his voice.

Patroclus contemplates his words for a long and excruciating moment. At that moment his heart must have been a broken glass, thrown carelessly to the floor. His light, his love, his heart, his world, his everything was taken away from him, and now there is nothing but an empty abyss of darkness in it's place. He moves his head up and looks at the centaur directly in his dark eyes. "Teach me how to use his spear".

...The centaur, has trained Hercules, Perseus, Jason, all the greatest heroes in all the kingdoms of Greece, and yet he has never seen anything like this.

Patroclus is a menace, his love was gone with his heart. Achilles must've ripped it out of his chest, and a human with no love is nothing more than a beast, he fought with no mercy, he looked at the lives around him like they were nothing more then empty, pathetic, soulless beings that, call themselves humans, he trained tirelessly, he was not tired, he did not need to be, even when he was forced to rest he would no longer feel peace.

Patroclus was hurt, he felt betrayed, he could not direct his hate at a Goddess, because he knew the consequences of that. He was more focused on the boy the took his love and never gave it back. "How could he do this to me", "I gave him everything", "he was all that I wanted", "all that I needed", and he just left me here to suffer. "HE LEFT ME".

When the battle against Troy comes, the soldiers of Sparta speak of a dark haired, monster, to him the heads of the Trojan soldiers were wheat, they were brutally harvested and thrown to be eaten by vultures. He would shower in Trojan blood, and he fought with nothing but a golden spear.

"Disgusting!" "Weak!", "Pathetic!", "All of you" The boy with dark curly hair shouted, above the screams of the men dying around him.

"Please! No! I beg of you! Mercy! Do you not pity your fellow humans!? You are a monster!!!. These poor excuses, of soldiers would wail at his feet.

"Humans!?" " HA!" "They dare to call themselves humans? When they have not felt love like he did! When they did not feel the pain that he did! When they could never imagine what he had to go through!" "Humans are determined through the emotions that pain their thoughts, their minds, and their bodies he is more human then anyone else here..."

The Trojans would cower at the name... Patroclus, the nightmare of the Myrmidon camp.

This news reached the ears of three princes, Agamemnon, the general, leading this war, controlling the soldiers, he was as brutal as he was disgusting, Hector, a prince that was prophesized, to kill or be killed, a hero within Troy, and a boy in black armor, and a dark helmet, hiding his long Golden hair.

So anyways, I call it the shattered au

Feel free to reblog and add some stuff, and please give me more ideas, I might write a fic

#patrochilles #patrochilles angst #the song of #dark Patroclus au #shattered au #TSOA #TSOA AU #the song of Achilles au

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chrasilla · 1 year

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"fuck you" is basic. "i hope there's a major character death in your favorite ao3 fanfic after 56 chapters and 148k words" is smart. it's possible. it's terrifying.

#drarry #wolfstar #malec #ao3 #fanfiction #angst #solangelo #patrochilles #harry potter #shadowhunter chronicles #kit x ty #jily #angsty fanfic #destiel #jegulus #dead poets society #dark academia #chrasillasss

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meditando-en-paris · 11 months

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Have you ever thought about the faith Achilles had in Patroclus? Achilles always waits for Patroclus.

Achilles waited for Patroclus to come to his palace. He waited for Patroclus to come closer to him to be his friend and right hand man. He waited for him to sleep together. He waited for their first kiss. He waited for Patroclus to reach him, for he was not going to leave with Chiron without him. He waited for him on the island of Skyros in order to be reunited one day. He waited for "his husband". Achilles waited to see Patroclus every evening or morning after the battle because he was his life breath. He hoped to be reunited with him because he was his home and safe place.

He waited for his return after Patroclus left in his armor for Troy. He waited for a sign or a message from his spirit. He wished that his wait would be short and that the gods would finally give his soul a rest so that he could be with Patroclus again.

He waited for Patroclus in the Underworld.

Achilles always hoped that Patroclus would find a way to be reunited with him. They are the eternal reunion.

#Have I cried writing this? YES I HAVE.#my thoughts #thoughts #angst #tsoa achilles #tsoa patroclus #tsoa patrochilles #not incorrect quotes #tsoa #the iliad #the song of achilles #la canción de aquiles #la canzone di achille #achillesandpatroclus #achilles x patroclus #achilles #patroclus #achilles and patroclus #patrochilles

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noahsteensonfilms · 7 months

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TSOA in a nutshell

#gay #book #achilles #achilles x patroclus #angst #patroclus #song of achilles #patrochilles #meme #madeline miller

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souredfigs · 23 days

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Of lovers burdened with glory and doomed since the beginning of time

Book mentioned: The Song of Achilles by Madeline Miller/Song used: Achilles come down by Gang of Youths/Jujutsu Kasien 0 manga/Jujutsu Kaisen light Novel 1/Jujutsu kaisen manga chapters 78 and 236 by creator Gege Akutami/Jujutsu Kaisen season 2 , director Shōta Goshozono

#so please please please let me let me let me #im not even kidding when I tell you how long ive wanted to make this thread #like the resemblance is INSANE #also let me just say im new to webweave and I need to get seriously better at it but anyways #Satosugu #satosugu webweaving #blood curdling angst #they loved each other sm you guys):#jujutsu kaisen #jjk 0 #jjk 236 #gojo satoru #geto suguru #geto is quite literally gojos achillies heel fight me on that #im gonna read some teacher geto aus to dull the pain #jujutsu kaisen season 2 #gege when i catch you gege #gege when i fucking catch you #madeline miller #the song of achilles #the iliad #and vampy once again screaming about fictional and historical gays #theres so much i wanted to add in this thread but oh well #achilles come down #patrochilles #their stories are one in the same ur honour

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peggy-sue-reads-a-book · 2 years

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Look, Ms. Miller’s choice to challenge tradition by having Achilles shot through the heart rather than the heel, by having him scream “I am mortal” at Thetis, and Paris asking “isn’t he invulnerable???” thereby questioning mythology again, and then Apollo affirming Achilles humanity seconds before killing him —I respect it but my God, it was a lot.

It’s almost like she has two PhDs from Brown or something.

*edited

#the audacity #the song of achilles #patrochilles #achilles #achilles x patroclus #tsoa angst #tsoa madeline miller #Madeline Miller #patroclus #greek tragedy

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3am-thoughts-of-achilles · 7 months

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i wrote a soft angst past lives drabble for patrochilles, read it here !

#tsoa #patrochilles #tsoa achilles #tsoa patroclus #tsoa textpost #literature #the song of achilles #tsoa fanfic #ao3fic #angst #gay #hades game #3amthoughtsofachilles #pls leave me comments guys :’)

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bcb-brian-camryn · 2 days

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Odysseus: "Achilles-"

Achilles: "Patroklos used to call me Achilles" *sobs*

Ajax (The Greater): "Because that's your fucking name"

Achilles: *sobs harder*

#Normal Achilles behaviour #angst?#patrochilles #achilles x patroclus #incorrect quotes #telamonian ajax #ajax the greater #odysseus

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siriuslywounded · 9 months

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Help, these gays man are killing me

by making me choke on my *OWN FUCKING TEARS*

I am reading The Song Of Achilles, and MAN WHEN I TELL YOU EVERY SINGLE PAGE HURTS-

#achilles #patroclus #patrochilles #gay #books and reading #angst #fuck romeo and juliet i want what these bitches had

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helpmeimblorboing · 6 months

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Finally posted the first chapter of my reimagining of the Iliad on AO3 and other sites, including Wattpad. Check it out !! You won't regret it, I promise

The whole story is written, and it uploads weekly after editing

Title : Silvertongue

Summary :

The tale of Odysseus is one that has been retold over countless millennia, from the mouths of poets, of authors, and historians and storytellers. But has it ever been told from the mouth of the man himself ?

This is a familiar tale, and a familiar story - the Iliad, entombed in history as ancient as the land of Greece. This is the story of the Iliad as told from the mouth of the man who made it all happen - from the mouth of the Silver-tongued prince of Ithaca. From the mouth of Odysseus

Watch as he navigates the cruelty of the war, as lovers are ripped from each other, daughters die, heroes fall, and he survives it all - armed with a quick mind and a sharp tongue.

This is not a story of heroes and gods and myth This is a story of love, of loss and war and death This is the story of the most human of the Grecian heroes

Genre : Tragedy, Romance, War, Historical Fiction

Link :

AO3 : https://archiveofourown.org/works/51546121

Wattpad : https://wattpad.com/story/356062564-silvertongue

RoyalRoad : Pending

#lgbt #gay #angst #lgbtq #odysseus #diomedes #homers iliad #the iliad #reimagined #achilles #patroclus #patrochilles #angst and hurt/comfort #angst and humor #odydio #odypen #penelope

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finnpeach · 1 year

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Memory - Trigun Stampede

guess who's still going on about trigun stampede. anyway we aren't surprised, here's our favourite eulogist wolfwood with a cold and being a big grump to vash (with a touch of angst because if it's a finnpeach fic there will be angst). comments, tags, and feedback always loved and giggled over <3

once again set between episode 4 and 5, but slight spoilers if you haven't seen episode 6 :)

It takes two days for them to get closer to the next outpost after their second encounter with a worm. On the way, they ran into a couple of travelers that needed help, and Vash obviously insisted they stop and assist them. The next day when they set out again, the car broke down and Roberto and Vash had to spend the whole day trying to fix it until it ran again.

Wolfwood had started feeling a dull ache in his head and a soreness in his throat the night they escaped the first worm. He chalked it up to being dehydrated, but when he woke up the next morning with a throbbing pain in his sinuses and a cough in his chest, he knew he’d caught a cold.

He hasn’t been sick since his days at the orphanage. Frankly, he doesn’t even know how he got sick, but guesses he picked something up when they were inside the worm, or just simply from over exhausting himself the past few days. Either way, he feels like shit and is starting to lose his capacity for hiding it.

Vash, of course, is the first to notice. They’re sitting in the backseat of the vehicle, watching the next outpost grow closer when the first sneeze of many sneaks up on Wolfwood. He has barely enough time to rip the cigarette out of his mouth before—

“Huh’EGhZTSSHh!” He steeples his hands over his nose and mouth, cigarette pinched between his pointer and middle finger as he pitches forward in the seat. Ugh, that had hurt his throat. Wolfwood slumps back into the seat with a sniffle and rubs at his nose, beginning to feel miserable.

“Are you okay?” There comes that soft, sensitive voice, dripping with genuine concern. Wolfwood fights the urge to roll his eyes. Vash is looking at him with an inquisitive gaze, leaning forward slightly towards him as if to get a better look.

Wolfwood grits his teeth. “I’mb fide,” he mutters, hating that his voice is already thick with congestion. He places the cigarette against his lips and puffs out a cloud of smoke in an irritated huff. Meryl and Roberto are bickering away up front, oblivious to their conversation.

“You shouldn’t smoke if you have a cold.”

God, does he ever let up? “I told you I’mb fide, needle-noggid, let it go. It was just a sdneeze.”

He takes another long drag from his cigarette. Unfortunately, he does not prove his point. The smoke catches in his throat and sends him into a coughing fit.

Suddenly, there’s a hand against his back, patting him through the fit. It’s surprising enough to distract him from the tightness in his throat and make the coughs subside.

Vash is smiling at him, his hand extended across Wolfwood’s back. Wolfwood slaps at his wrist with a growl and turns back towards the window. He wishes Vash would just leave him alone.

Hurt, Vash whimpers a little and rubs his wrist. He aches to do something for him, but decides it’s best to leave Wolfwood be for a bit, lest he gets bitten.

They decide to make camp about a half a mile from the outpost. It’s getting late and they don’t want to sneak into the town when there’s likely to be police or headhunters crawling about at night. Meryl and Roberto busy themselves with the sleeping rolls and dinner while Vash and Wolfwood set up the fire.

The sneezing has only coupled in frequency since they’ve stopped to make camp. He’s had to forgo carrying around his cross just to make sure he doesn’t slip a disc every time a sneeze makes him pitch forward.

“Hh’EGHTSHHhh! Hh’EHGXSTh’huh!” Wolfwood nearly drops the firewood that time, stumbling forward in the sand. Vash is there in an instant and steadies him with a hand to his shoulder.

Wolfwood shakes his head and tosses the firewood down. “Thagks,” he mumbles, coughing offhandedly into his wrist. His sinuses feel heavy with snot and his throat is killing him. He wishes the sand would swallow him whole right now.

Vash passes him a water flask and Wolfwood hesitates a second as he unscrews the cap. He doesn’t want to get everyone else sick if they share the flask, so he decides to waterfall it instead.

“See? I knew it.” Vash says with an elated grin, noticing Wolfwood’s caution. He looks like a kid who just guessed a riddle correctly. “You are sick. You should—“

“You should mind your own business, blondie. Leave me alone.” Wolfwood thrusts the flask against Vash’s chest and crouches down to arrange the firewood. His head is pounding. He’d like nothing more than to get out of this sun and lay down in a nice bed, or take a bath, or anything rather than be out here in the sweltering desert with a cold that’s growing worse by the minute. He lights a piece of newspaper on fire and sets it amongst the wood, watching as the sparks float up into the sunset sky.

Vash, despite looking like a puppy that’s been kicked, leaves him alone and heads over to Meryl and Roberto. They exchange some words, and then Vash is gone.

Good riddance, Wolfwood thinks. Maybe now he can sneeze in peace without being fussed over. He lights another cigarette and sits down by the fire. The smoke tingles in his sinuses as he inhales and he ends up sneezing again.

“Huh’EHDSSHhT’chuh! Hih.. hih’EHDZSSH’YUE! Hhh.. he’eh…!” He catches the loud, grating sneezes into his hands, biting the cigarette between his teeth. The last one leaves him hanging, sitting there with his head tilted back, eyebrows twitching in sneezy irritation, the cigarette dangling on his bottom lip. When it still doesn’t come, he decides to try something that used to work when he was younger. He taps the side of his nose and the effect is immediate.

“H’EHTSssHhh’ue! Heh’EHDTZzSSH’huh!” He doesn’t have enough time to cover and the cigarette shoots out of his mouth with the final spraying sneeze, landing pathetically in the sand. His shades are askew on his nose, which has started to run profusely. To add insult to injury, his sneezes have gathered attention again.

“Jeez, Wolfwood, that sounds bad. Are you sure you’re feeling okay?” Meryl asks as she unrolls her bed roll a few feet away from the fire. Roberto does the same. He’s not looking at Wolfwood, but he’s clearly listening.

“Will you all just shut up? I’b fide. Drop it.” He pulls his cigarette pack out of his pocket and clicks his tongue against his teeth when he sees that there’s none left.

He turns to Roberto, who is currently taking a heavy drag off his own cigarette. “Hey, you got another cigarette I can borrow?”

“Sorry, kid, but Vash told me not to give you one till your cold gets better.” Roberto chuckles as Wolfwood's face twists in pure rage.

“Where is needle-noggid adyway?” Wolfwood sniffles back his congestion. He despises how hoarse his voice is starting to sound.

“He didn’t tell you? He went into town to get medicine. Should be back soon,” Meryl says as she passes around cans of stew. It’s their meagre dinner for the evening until they can resupply at the next town.

Wolfwood wants to rip his hair out. He can literally feel the irritation and anger bubbling in him like hot steam in a teapot. How many times does he have to tell him to fuck off? He doesn’t need medicine, and he doesn’t need anyone’s pity. He rejects the proffered can of stew and opts to lay down on his bedroll, wishing sleep would take him and get him away from these people that care too much.

After about an hour or so of laying there feeling sorry for himself, Vash reappears above him. The sun has nearly completely set, save for a few strokes of pink and red that paint the sky.

Vash looks down at him with a soft, gentle grin. Wolfwood wants to smack the smile off his face.

“Hey, Wolfwood, I got you some medicine from the town. You should take it so you don’t get worse.” Vash hands him a little packet of pills and the water flask again.

Wolfwood is beyond fighting at this point. His muscles ache with fatigue, and a sinus headache is starting to creep up on him. He takes two of the pills and downs them with the water before flopping back down on his bedroll again. It’s starting to get cold now that the sun is down, though it could be a fever settling in. Either way, he wraps his arms around himself and scoots closer to the fire as Vash and Meryl and Roberto start chatting. Above, the sky is bright with millions of twinkling stars, and the moon casts her soft luminescent gleams over them. His eyes grow heavy and his breathing starts to deepen. Wolfwood lets the sound of their conversation and the crackle of the fire lull him to sleep.

He dreams for the first time in a while. He’s a child again and is back at the orphanage. He’s alone, laying in the infirmary with only a thin blanket to stop the shivers that rack his entire body. It’s so cold.

This is a distant memory to him. Everything seems cloudy, grey, hazy. He can’t make sense of it. Had it happened this way? He’d had a high fever, and was quarantined away from the other children. Only one managed to sneak in to see him.

“Nico?” Comes a small, cautious voice. What was once a dim, grey memory now bursts alight with colour in his presence.

“L-Livio,” he says through chattering teeth. Livio is standing beside the bed, unsure. He’s never wandered somewhere unknown without Wolfwood. How did he get into the infirmary?

“G-Go away, you’ll get sick.” He coughs into his fist, twisting away from the other boy as much as possible.

Livio doesn’t answer, just stares at Wolfwood with his big owl eyes and looks him over. Silently, he climbs into bed under the blanket and curls against his friend’s side. His face nuzzles against Wolfwood’s neck as he wraps his smaller body around him.

Warmth spreads through his body as if he’s being caressed by the summer sun. The shivers slowly start to subside, no match against the warmth, as he relaxes against Livio.

Yes, this is exactly how it happened.

Except, his grey hair is starting to tickle his nose, and the sensation is so real that it wakes him up.

Wolfwood awakes with a start. “Livio?” Where is he?

He takes a moment to gather his bearings. He’s not at the orphanage, he’s camped out under the stars with two journalists and an outlaw. Right.

The burning itch in his nose is back. Something feathery and blonde is tickling his nostrils, and he looks down to see someone nestled against his shoulder, their body curled around his. Its owner is snoring softly beneath him.

Vash?!

“H’EGhNXT’shh!” Wolfwood sneezes as the tickle becomes too strong, twisting his head to the side so he doesn’t sneeze all over Vash. Anger sparks in his chest like a fuse.

Wolfwood shoves the sleeping Vash off of him and scrambles away. The cold is eager to reclaim him and seeps into his body in an instant.

“Vash! What the fuck?!” He hisses, like water pouring over coals.

Vash gives a little start and shakes his head. “Huh…?” He gazes up at Wolfwood with sleepy, confused eyes. He seems surprised to suddenly find himself laying on the ground.

“Why were you sleeping on me?!” There’s a heavy weight across his body. Wolfwood looks down to see Vash’s red coat lying across him, keeping out the cold desert air.

Vash yawns and rubs his eyes. “You were shivering, so I came over to keep you warm. And you were talking in your sleep for a while. Who’s Livio?”

Wolfwood feels panic rise within him at hearing someone speak Livio’s name. He grabs the red coat and tosses it at Vash’s face, who doesn’t catch it in time and ends up wrestling the coat off his head, falling onto his back.

“No one. Go back to sleep,” he growls, turning onto his side so his back is facing Vash. He wants to forget this ever happened. He wants to go back to that dream. And now that he’s awake, he’s rudely reminded of how sick he feels.

He shivers involuntarily when a sharp breeze howls against his back, the sensation chilling him to the bone. Wolfwood sniffles and tries to ignore the fact that he needs to sneeze again. He pinches his nose, rubs it angrily against his sleeve, but it’s no good.

“Hih’EDTZSSHhh’uh!” He tents his hands over his nose again to catch the wet sneeze. He sniffles thickly and coughs, his eyes brimming with irritated tears. Suddenly, there’s a heavy weight placed down gently across him. Wolfwood opens his eyes to see Vash tucking his red coat around the curve of his body.

“I told you I dod’t need—“

“Just sleep with it tonight, okay? You do need it.” His tone is firm, commanding. It’s so different from his typical soft, kind voice. It leaves no room for argument. Vash tucks in one final corner around his hips before laying back down again.

Wolfwood relents and decides that being warm under Vash’s coat beats shivering all night long. He tucks his chin under the coat and closes his tired eyes, feeling himself dragged into sleep like a helpless rowboat at sea. As his mind starts to teeter between reality and sleep, he lets his dreams wander back to Livio again, and returns to the peaceful embrace of memory.

#well well well #guess whose horn got the better of them #I promise im going to go back to patrochilles guys im just riding this trigun high #ik wolfwood is like a superbeast and probably can't get sick buuuuuut idc. canon is clearly in the wrong here not me #my writing #snzfic #sneeze kink #my favourite part was the dream obviously bc I love angst and making hot stoic men sad #and also my fav is just making vash be the sweetest boy who is constantly rejected bc wolfwood is a grumpy old man #PLEASE ENJOY <3

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tsoa-incorrect-quotes · 11 months

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Okay so, I kept on thinking about it and I wonder how Achilles would be treated by his mother and how he would react to Patroclus.

Lemme just...

The blond prince woke up in the middle of the night, and saw the goddess looming over him. His lover didn't seem to notice, still fast asleep next to him. "What are you doing here mother, and how did you get in" Achilles asked.

"I am here under the permission of Zeus" The woman said with a raspy voice. "I will make sure, you do not disgrace yourself in front of the Gods" and with that statement, she pulled him by his arm, and whisked him away, out the cave, and into the darkness...

"Patroclus! No!" Achilles would wail."Mother, why would you do this, where are you taking me?"

"To a place where mortals cannot reach, where you will be free of that exiled prince, where you may never see him again."

"No! Mother! Please let me go! His cries were meaningless.

She dove into the dark sea, beneath the light of the moon, she took him down to the caves under the water."Do not worry my child, I will teach you, how to be strong, I will train you, better than Chiron, I will make you a God..."

Achilles spent months away from his beloved Patroclus, the only thing to keep him company, were his mother's training lessons, and her servants. She had a home of her own, under the water, a palace with magic that allowed him to breath. It was cold and dark, this was a place where the sunlight could not see, and where his heart would suffer.

In there, she would teach him cruel lessons. "Mortals are disgusting creatures!" "They are nothing more than playthings for immature Gods!" "They are not meant to be adored, they are meant to be looked down upon by higher beings, such as yourself!" She would scream at him while he, would work tirelessly to throw his spears, to grow his muscles, to strengthen his speed. "Forget that lonely mortal!" "I will give you a wife worthy of your blood and name!"

Achilles could not forget his dear Patroclus. The more time he spent without the him, the more the dark haired boy consumed his thoughts. His mother would not be able to rip Patroclus' smile from his mind. Because hidden in her palace is Achilles most prized possession, a golden lyre. This was the only thing his mother had failed to take away from him. Everything else was gone...

His armor was no longer mad of copper, now it was black onyx, and dark iron, his spear was no longer gold, but now it had a an iron handle and a black diamond tip. His food was no longer, the meat fit for a prince, it was ambrosia, the food of the Gods. With every bit he took, he could feel a part of him burning, he mortal half. The only thing keep him grounded to the mortal world was the thought of Patroclus...

"You are ready for Troy"his mother told him one day. "You will find and kill the Trojan prince Hector" "That will solidify, your immortality". With those final words, she allowed him to leave for the war against of Troy...

Little did he know, he would meet the boy who consumed his thoughts like a plague.

He severed his way through the Trojan army, ripping out a thousand heads in under a second, he devoured their armies under his brute strength, he was feared for his speed, he heralded the darkest armor, and the Trojans would forever rue the day they met Achilles. Those who cath his eye will never see the light of day again.

But the prince himself could not care less about his reputation in Troy, nor could he celebrate his honor in the Spartan armies. He was depressed. He spent countless months under the darkness of the under water palace, thinking of his lover. Attempting to fill his empty heart with Trojan blood and Spartan praises would not work. He was surrounded by grief and anger. He begged to see his Patroclus, he wanted to go back to Thaia or Mt.Pelion. Now that he finally escaped the sea, he wanted to glance at Patroclus once more.

Until he heard of rumors circulating around the Spartan soldiers. There was a boy in the Myrmidon camp. Dark haired and dark skinned, and he would hold a golden spear...

#achilles #the song of achilles #patrochilles #patroclus #patrocilles #patrochilles angst #the shattered au #tsoa au #the song of Achilles au

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