#and where we could more truly have this like triumvirate of seeing yourself in both the other two parties in tmc lol

[unproduciblesmackdown]

thinking about how of course billions is about people trapped in eternal battle world, and trapped because they won't ever exit, and don't want to because that's the only way they can define their idea of themself or like move through life, to the degree they have to just create or find another battle if one ends or they don't have enough going on at once or they're unhappy about anything & can only respond to that the only way they'll respond to anything: finding someone to consider a target to Defeat & being like nice, i'm so competent & active as a person, so with any other issues in my life, i'm sure it's not my fault at least

and it's been clear that to be someone at the Center of the show means needing to be inflexible enough to never leave that life, which also probably means never engaging in genuine self-reflection besides like, fuming in distress for 5 sec & then immediately searching for blame for someone else, or calling up your designated moral supporter who'll tell you you're upset b/c you're very complex & sympathetic & maybe if you do [xyz] you'll be able to Keep Winning, so like, don't worry, we'll never get too off track here. you have someone like connerty who cares so much about playing by the rules ft. ethics, but he was also someone completely inflexible who would give a shit like "ha ha you broke the law" and be Defeated b/c like yeah damn you do got him in that situation. he may then have gained the flexibility to throw a punch when he's already imprisoned but he's still just gotta retire & pursue some completely different goals

this in contrast with like, what a coincidence (surely not) that the more flexible characters are the ones who also do introspect & reflect & genuinely think about & question themselves ever, & how even beyond that, being in this world of people who overwhelmingly are thee opposite & aiming for a static sense of self & thus strategy for navigating life & all interactions & situations, the more reflective parties also tend to accept both Blame & the fruitlessness of pushing for more/different/better from the people & relationships & situations they're amongst. those willing to take on responsibility at all surrounded by people casting all of it off, always, w/the former already primed to take blame & the latter primed to be looking to find the blame in anyone else, a powerful mismatch....which allows the flexible parties to also put up with shit for longer lol like if they got fed up that quickly or recognized the dead-end here they'd just leave the show lol. like wow can't believe taylor spent their whole life already stuck having to deal with someone who's so very much like these bullshit central men & those trying to emulate them, & perhaps also then have a lifetime of experience extending endless patience & sympathy with little to no expectations for more from people who put up with such a bullshit man & his effects on everything around him, like, what do you mean taylor's mom hasn't seen them b/c douglas didn't want to see them b/c he wasn't yet motivated enough to have to exercise begrudging shows of basic respect. whilest sure seems like taylor felt more concern & basically stated their responsibility re: trying to make their relationship with their dad work / basically take on the task of making his life work for him according to his sense of himself (genius! who deserves the recognition thusly!) and doesn't seem to take on this role re: their mom, who nevertheless is just presumed to move closer to them along w/douglas. and here's taylor never truly putting their foot down re: wendy, no matter what, able to have no real positive expectations in how wendy treats them or thinks of them, but also always able to extend sympathy / decent treatment themself

thinking of like team ben out here as the Nicer axe cap or mpc people who also happen to be people absorbing the L's, blaming themselves for being at the bottom of the hierarchy & being subjected to the always negative treatment doled out to them accordingly, and, winstonesquely, still generally like extending genuine gestures of amicability, efforts of constructive actual communication, etc, & this being shut down & likely punished by all the people around them who won't handle that kind of thing. that Of Course nobody's actually supported around here, like, at best they'll get some kind of "well you're actually talented & valuable :)...." (so why aren't they already treated in a way such that they're aware of this?) "....so just have more confidence already god!" wherein (a) again that just means it's Their Fault that they're having a miserable time at the hands of others & (b) their having "confidence" doesn't really mean like, an emotional buffer between their sense of self-esteem & the message of inferiority in how they're treated, it has to mean externally acting different in some ways, more like A Winner, more like everyone else. the limits of ben trying to sometimes be a buffer for tuk as that kind of friend/mentor role, where either it simply fails or ben's Help is more unilateral "correction." that generally only any increase in aggressive hostility gets them anywhere, and really not that far.

the way dollar bill could always act however he wanted & they could always clean up his messes / save him from himself / just flatout blame other people for what dollar bill did to them or someone else; success in being a mini axe in that way for sure. dollar bill going off the rails over his literal dollar bill & that's not a problem, he's validated b/c he's upset, & b/c rudy knew he'd be upset it's really all rudy's fault....who just so happens to be more of a loser, what with his glasses & possible masturbation ever and all. whilest even when dollar bill is like every season being shit at his job & life, well, just find a loser to trounce while everyone ignores this, cheers you on, takes on responsibility for fixing things for you, blames the person targeted probably. dollar bill couldn't even do in office transphobic hate crime physical attacks, or that but while yelling the r word at the autistic guy he's already harrassing & threatening, without it being really basically the target's fault, & hey, as long as no investors are watching. and we're still dragging dollar bill back to the office b/c uhhh yeah!!

& then of course there's winston, who, like a loser, says things in real efforts for real communication with others, that they winningly can only bring themselves to respond to as "he's not allowed to talk, that's out of line, i have to punish/deny this to reassert our respective status" except for, sometimes, taylor actually communicating in turn, or even simply receiving the information. winston in a duo with the very winning & worthy rian, being something of a quasirival for 5 seconds but even during then, and since, trying to be amicable to establish an actually positive dynamic, trying for actual communication, engaging flexibly & actively based on her feedback & her terms & etc to try to find some more success; versus rian completely inflexible, unwilling to respond to efforts to communicate, unwilling to have an actual relationship with any flexibility & genuineness in turn, or see winston as a person of course, and engage with real emotions. which is hardly an exclusive response of hers, like, everyone else is just the same, she's just also the one interacting with him more often and personally bullying him & standing next to him & immediately responding with clear contempt when he tries things like earnest expressions of "hey rian could you not do what you just did b/c it makes me feel like shit, probably b/c that's what you're trying to do" and "hey that was cool what you just did b/c it makes me feel like—" b/c like, what a loser. real winners cannot handle engaging with another person as a person. when you can just make up & stick to a narrative about "oh but i don't hate winston, who i feel is inherently beneath me. i wouldn't wanna feel bad about killing him, not when i could feel fine about administering more of a death by a thousand cuts with some other people helping out & hey maybe it was their cut that did it after all....but also if you're like 'pwease' then eh sure" or that winston's got a lesser inner existence anyways, some classic dehumanization, no complexity there, & hurting him isn't real, & it'd never be you in his position anyways! especially the more you're buying into "yeah i'm more of a person / more deserving / more real & sympathetic & correct than him :)" & being cheered on as you act that out. pretty cringe of winston to be earnest, flexible, openly trying & wanting & needing things, sounds bad & silly. unlike the winners around him who really cannot handle him or any of these things about him. of course near equivalent in loserness, tuk, is the person with the realest most amicable relationship with him. both of them too incompetent to realize their mutual failings in this, ha ha, real winners are repulsed & fleeing & can't handle a basic exchange with either of them. and the imbalance re: how little others are willing to give them in interest, consideration, time, words, etc, while they're always trying Too Much re: the disinterested others, totally proves their unworthiness

winston and tuk always having to stay at the bottom of the hierarchy, winston only able to be shitted on even as he extricates himself, ending up surrounded by people who will only act "correctly" according to their superior roles & this mf wags only processing anything as "did that reinforce my being a correct/winning person???" & only responding by trying to reassert to others how much of a winner they are, which requires establishing a loser, and crushing them. winston having recognized / gotten fed up with a bullshit scenario & had realistic expectations of those around them & spent those years being treated like shit yet never crushing an enemy to restore his ego & also spent those years trying to communicate and work with others and share actual info and make actual connections & now independently choosing to make a big shift in his life so that things can be different? is definitely the contemptible loser here while everyone else looks very good faffing around for an episode getting some temporary ego boosts & being very "correct" in every response to winston, even pointing out that rian even noticing something genuine & positive from winston in the absence of it anywhere is first & foremost incorrect, which rian will Also immediately drop in the face of that "well yeah it's more correct to prioritize Anything else. like that he's pathetic & mpc 5ever" like wuh oh rian being doomed from 5x08 "time to embrace acting more correct now" & being truly inflexible from that point on, never had a moment of conflict not resolved by [ignoring that] &/or again just getting someone more correct to declare how it'll be answered. taylor at their most flexible and Taylorest and most juxtaposed with central men & static ossified "winners" when they are also at their best in engaging with winston. taylor Like winston & vice versa in so many substantial & interesting ways, despite their relating to / sympathizing with / devoting much more effort & interest to people more like the central men. that here we are, when taylor might have to give up on Being A Winner, someone who'll walk away with status & resources & a seamless transition into some established business foundation, to really get the wins that matter, against pince, &/or to clock out of a sunk cost factory, &/or to not have strangled every part of themself that can be in conflict with this general situation into eternal dormancy. don't You dare blame latency lol, the taylor who gets to exist outside the conditional "well i guess you're a winner who's very useful to me, like dumping work on you & blaming you if it goes awry. and you can act like a Real winner in the ways that really matter (crushing people)"....is also a taylor who can be rejected & shut down & shut out & have their value denied & be treated shittily despite even knowing they'd be / are good at this shit, superlatively even, & could never feel okay just being regarded as a tool stashed away at someone's disposal. & Has been treated shittly & is liable to accept blame, unilateral responsibility for other's selves & feelings & actions & lives, & marinate in self-loathing. while people who refuse any introspection, questioning, responsibility, awareness, etc, & refuse to handle the least of genuine interactions/relationships with others as real people, are glad to scoff at them & dismiss them & imply or assert their superiority, like, wow have You got a lot to learn, or maybe you can't b/c you're inherently inferior. all just like re: winston!

tl;dr shoutout to the flexible characters who like can & do reflect & change things up actually, just so happening to always be Losing for this in the [only way to win is not to play] arena of fake winners seeing if they can consider themselves superior to everyone else & only even possibly correct always & forever, in the pyramid scheme of social hierarchy & also capitalism

[attollogame]

For the prompts “so… what are we now?” with Suha? (w a little bit of angst?)

[i love suha and i hate causing her pain but let’s party]

You lost track of time somewhere between the third and seventh individual who walked into your holding room, wearing the same blank expression and asking the same set of questions in their boring, monotonous tones. 

How deep was your involvement?

How many meetings did you attend?

Can you tell us the location of….

With the last one, who they wanted always changed. You had been asked for Dreamwalker, for Sysba, for Voltaic, for Desdemona, and your answer was always consistent. You didn’t know. You weren’t that involved. You didn’t attend any meetings. The rest of Ovo had hiked up their skirts and bailed as soon as The Triumvirate pinpointed their latest location; it was just unfortunate that you couldn’t run as quickly. You think they might’ve wanted to throw you in as a scapegoat, anyway. Groups like them always had inner circle cliques that banded together to protect the others, like masses of leeches writing all together, and you never had the time to find that clique. 

Damn them. 

It didn’t surprise you when you were dragged into the depths of The Crowes Court’s hideout, then. You had already been faced with Hypatia; her narrow golden eyes surveyed you like you were nothing but rot on the walls, a far cry from the warm smiles she had previously given you. Markos had been the same, not even sparing you a glance. Alexander hadn’t even come down to see you brought in. You think you must’ve caught them all off-guard with your actions.

And she? 

She didn’t show, either. 

You wonder if Hypatia had gone to her, when the news had first broken out, not to lay it down gently but to inform her with the cold-cut bluntness she was renowned for. She must’ve bit and chewed every ounce of your former lover's flesh; calling her on her naivety, on her slackness, on the way you must’ve manipulated her with your honeyed words and romantic gifts. 

Suha had never known. You had kept your mouth shut around her, not because you were waiting for the right time, but because when you were with her you didn’t want to think about the sickening reality of the game you were playing. Your moments together were already so sparse; Suha always had work, always had duties to fulfill, was always kept at bay by the Crowes. You wanted to focus on her smile, on her laugh, on the looks she’d give you across the Court that held such promise in them.

You didn’t expect her to come.

Which is why it scares you when she does. 

You know it’s her because you can smell her perfume as she enters the room. That strong sandalwood fragrance that had once lingered on your clothes as you slipped out of her room in the early dawn, cheeks flushed and eyes bright with the memories of the prior night, now acts as the noose around your neck. The scraping of the chair being pulled out tells you that you won’t be free from this encounter any time soon.

 Why did they send her. Why did they send her?

A silence fills the room after she settles herself. You keep your eyes trained on the light above you, listening to the buzzing that came from within its electric labyrinth. Your head and neck both throb and you pull idly at the straps that bind your wrists to the table. Silence, silence, silence. Then, 

“I hate cheaters,” she murmurs. You tilt your head down and allow yourself a quick glance at her face. Even in the shadows of the room, you can see she looks exhausted. Her normally flushed skin looks sickly, and the tell-tale signs of bags are beginning to form underneath her eyes. She stares at you, unrelenting, with a blank gaze and you force yourself to look back. 

“I hate cheaters,” she repeats, “but I hate liars even more.” 

“I didn’t lie,” you counter. “You can’t lie about something that’s never been spoken of.” 

“What was your intention?” She counters your comment with a question. It reminds you that this isn’t a lovers tryst, this is an interrogation. You’re a real criminal now, which is quite a feat in a place like Attollo where everyone does crime. “You got close to me, I let you in. What did you want to find here? Information on my family? Information on me?”

She spits each word at you with a venom that you didn’t think she was capable of. Suha, always so calm, always so level-headed, was now staring you down with a look that contained a barely constrained fury. 

“That isn’t true!” Now it’s your turn to be furious. She’s making you to be more of a monster than you actually are. No one has bothered to listen to you ever since you’ve been brought into this place and now she, your own lover, is doing the exact same. You didn’t know because you had just received this mission. You weren’t that involved because they hadn’t trusted you enough yet. You didn’t attend any meetings because you hadn’t had time before your arrest. You hadn’t had time to locate those inner cliques because they threw you to the fucking wolves at the first sign of trouble. 

You had been scapegoated, in the worst possible way. 

“If you just fucking listen to me and allow me to explain myself properly, you’ll understand that none of this was to hurt you! Christ, Suha, the last thing I want to do is inflict even more pain on you when I know you’ve gone through enough,” you take a deep breath and lean forward, keeping eye contact with her, “And you don’t think this isn’t killing me, either? I’m sitting on the opposite side of an interrogation table from the woman I love as she’s treating me like I’m some pariah when in reality, I haven’t done anything wrong!” 

Silence, again. It fills the room after your outburst as Suha stares you down, her hands clenched so tight that her knuckles are beginning to pale. Her eyes keep darting from your face, to your chest, to where your own hands are bound, back up to your face again, and her lips are pursed into a thin line. 

Then, slowly, she shakes her head at you. 

“You can expect your court date to be announced to you soon,” she’s speaking as she stands, pushing the metal chair back into place. The buzzing of the light above you fills your ears as you register her words, and a sick sense of desperation closes your throat. “It will be observed by Hypatia Crowe and Alexander Crowe. You will be given the option of an attorney, which I would advise you to take.”

“Suha.” Your voice is sharp, and the tone it carries causes her to pause for a moment and look back at you. You only have the opportunity to ask one question in these precious few seconds of time. You have a million on the tip of your tongue, but when you open your mouth, only one manages to find its way out. 

“What are we now?” 

Silence. She looks at you, her stare as vacant as Hypatia’s had been (like mother like daughter, truly). It feels like the first time you met her, before she had known that she could trust you, before she had allowed you to seep your way into your life. Each precious, tangible moment darts past your eyes like a film; secret exchanges in her garden, her hands along your skin, the way her brown eyes had carried a million hues in the sun and filled with warmth when she laughed. 

Suha lets out a soft sound, a scoff or a sob, you can’t tell, and turns away from you. 

“I am a representative of The Crowes Court. You are a member of an organization responsible for the misery of thousands,” A pause, and then, 

“We? We are nothing but strangers to one another, as it seems we always have been.”

[inthishousewestanpercyjackson]

The End, Sort Of

So I don’t often write fics, I just have other original WIPs to work on, but as much as I loved the Tower of Nero, I though it needed a little of this.

       Percy Jackson arrived at camp that afternoon with Annabeth Chase and Estelle Blofis. I saluted his choice of companions, even if one of them scared me. I’ll let you decide which.

       Campers swarmed the trio - old-timers to greet them, newbies to fawn over the baby. Meg was vanished from my side shadow-travel-style and reappeared at the head of the newbie group. Estelle seemed to like the attention. She squealed with joy at the chorus of baby-talk.

       As soon as the crowd dispersed, Annabeth raced off toward the Big House without explanation. Meg, persistent as ever, lingered by the baby. Soon, she and Percy started up the hill to the pavilion.

       “You’re looking very Lester,” Percy observed as he sat down at the Poseidon table, presumably out of habit. When Meg sat down next to him (ahem, Estelle), I moved to join them.

       “I assure you, I am very Apollo,” I replied. “Where did Annabeth go?”

       “She needed to talk to Chiron.” Percy sat back against the table with a satisfied sigh. “It’s good to be back.”

       “Bad road trip?”

       His eyes brightened. “No, it was great. But...Camp Half-Blood, you know?”

       I nodded my agreement.

       “So.” Percy squished Estelle’s belly a few times to make her giggle, much to our collective delight. “What’s the story? How did the quest go?”

       How did the quest go. Meg and I exchanged a look that included everything from stumbling into camp six months ago to watching the last of the Triumvirate shrivel to ashes in the tower of Nero.

       We told him the story. Sometime around the battle of the Waystation, Annabeth Chase entered the pavilion. She joined Percy soundlessly, sliding onto the bench next to him. Meg, who had never met Annabeth, tipped her head so far to the side I thought it might topple off. Annabeth struck the perfect balance between a smile and a threat, which seemed to satisfy Meg. She went back to playing with Estelle, rocking back and forth cross-legged on the bench.

       Meg let me tell most of the tale. I suspected she was waiting to chime in with the embarrassing parts I “forgot” but I disappointed her. I “forgot” nothing; I was humble that way.

       The difficult part was Jason Grace. From their time at Camp Jupiter, I suspected the two demigods already knew, but Percy’s face turned stony as I described that worst of nights. Annabeth turned away until I finished. Perhaps she didn’t want us to see her tears.

       “I should’ve been there,” Percy said quietly. “I said no. I should’ve come with you.”

       “Percy.” Annabeth put her hand on his shoulder, her eyes red.

       “It wouldn’t have made a difference,” I assured him. “Jason was as strong as they come. Caligula was as evil as they come. They were evenly matched. You would only have gotten yourself killed as well.”

       Percy didn’t respond. Estelle seemed to notice her brother’s grief. She reached for his face, cooing. Percy smiled faintly and lifted her to eye-level. “I did get to meet you.”

       “And Jason would’ve wanted that,” Annabeth said. She leaned against his shoulder and Percy leaned back, an ever-so-slight agreement to put the matter of guilt to rest. But I wondered if it would truly be that easy.

       Tentatively, I continued onto our time at Camp Jupiter and the emperors’ defeat at the hands of Frank Zhang. At last, I spoke of the tower of Nero and Python’s fall into Chaos.

       When I finished, Percy whistled. “That’s a hard fall.”

       “Very,” I agreed.

       He looked at Meg. “Meg? You’re one of the bravest people I know.”

       Meg blushed and responded typically. “Had to do it.”

       “Doesn’t make it any less brave.”

       Annabeth considered both of us, her expression unreadable. Finally, she asked, “What now, Apollo? Now that you’re a god again…”

       She stopped, but her tone implied, Will things be better?

       Better because a trio of evil Roman emperors no longer ruled the world? Yes. Better because prophetic power had been restored? Yes. But I got the feeling that wasn’t what she meant. She wanted to know how I intended to keep my promise to Jason.

       “Being human is hard,” I declared.

       Meg snorted and kicked her red high-tops off the bench, narrowly missing Estelle’s head. Estelle groped after the red shoes with her little fists. Meg apologized for that near-decapitation by sticking her tongue out side-to-side, which made Estelle burst into a new fit of giggles. “Being a demigod is harder.”

       “Let’s say both,” I concurred.

       Percy laughed. He adjusted Estelle on his lap, letting her take hold of his index finger and promptly stick it in her mouth. Percy looked at Meg and I with some measure of solemnity, despite his finger’s current status as a chew-toy.

       “Look, I didn’t want to be a half-blood,” he said. “But…”

       His eyes trailed over the distant Long Island Sound, the cabin green, the Athena Parthenos holding vigil beside Thalia’s pine tree on Half-Blood Hill. From the pavilion, we could see the camp in motion: swords flashing in the sunlight, the moaning of monsters in the forest, demigods training and horsing around like any regular summer campers.

       Percy’s gaze finally landed on Annabeth. He kissed her cheek and smiled. “But it’s worth it.”

       I appraised my young friend in a new light. In a brief flash, I remembered how, at the end of the Titan War, my father had offered immortality to the son of Poseidon. I myself had not paid much attention to all the good-feeling, gift-giving that took place, but I did remember clearly the determination on Percy Jackson’s face when he said no. Instead, he wanted to live out his short mortal life, and he wanted us gods to pay more attention to our demigod children. He made us promise to change.

       Now I wondered how well we had kept that oath in the two years since we made it. Perhaps Styx held us all under her thumb.

       And Jackson’s choice - at the time I couldn’t have begun to understand it. Now, though, after witnessing the goodness and heroism mortality had to offer...I could comprehend that the suffering was worth it.

       “Yes,” I said softly. I sighed. “To answer your question, Annabeth, I’m not sure how much will change. I will do my best - which, I have to say, isn’t very much, but it’s certainly better than it once was. I will remember. And I will attempt to help my fellow Olympians.”

       Meg punched my shoulder. “And me? Piano lessons, remember?”

       “Of course,” I replied, rubbing my side. Unfortunately, I could not spare the world from the horrors of Meg McCaffery at the keyboard, but I said I would do my best. That’s all I could do. My time as a mortal had taught me nothing if not that.

       Percy’s grin vanished at the sound of Estelle’s sudden fussing and squirming. Percy deftly checked her diaper and threw his head back. “Woah. That’s a problem.”

       He and Annabeth looked at each other. “Not it,” they said at the same time.

       Percy sighed heavily in surrender. Oh, the woes of being a big brother. Of course, gratefully, I never had to change my sister’s diaper.

       Percy cast another sweeping gaze at the whole of Camp Half-Blood. Then he stood, laying Estelle over his shoulder. “It seems like this place is in good hands.”

       He gave me a fist bump. Dare I say, I thought I saw something akin to pride in his eyes, similar to the look Rachel had worn when she saw how I cared about others. Oh, these hero types. There was much we could learn from them. I was humbled.

       Annabeth nodded respectfully to me. Meg hugged her, which seemed like a jump from the brief stand-off earlier, but what did I know? Meg was nothing if not unpredictable.

       Percy ruffled Meg’s dark hair, which left it only slightly messier than it had been before. Meg didn’t seem to mind. She waved bye-bye at baby Estelle.

       Then the three of them started down the hill. They didn’t look back.

Tower of Nero fic @inthishousewestanpercyjackson

[authorgirl1111]

Demigod’s Grief

Reyna

Reyna stared at the coffin that Apollo and Meg had brought into the citadel. She knew who was inside it. The guards had told her about what Apollo and Meg had said. She wanted to look inside the coffin, half hoping half believing that she was being lied too. But she could do that later right now she needed to be the Praetor.

“I heard about Jason,” Reyna said staring at the Coffin. She motioned to the guards. “Have the body prepared for the funeral” She ordered. The guards bowed once before rolling the coffin away. Apollo and Meg watched it leave, they looked ready to follow the coffin, but Reyna needed something from them first.

“Come with me,” Reyna said. “I would hear your story”

She led them to her

Reyna led them to the Principia, where her dogs where waiting dutifully. She walked to the table and sat at the head. She could see Meg about to follow suit. But Apollo held her back.

“We have to be invited to sit.”

Meg snorted. “That’s stupid”

Apollo sighed. “When in Rome…”

Meg rolled her eyes.

Reyna cleared her throat and Apollo and Meg turned to look at her.

“Tell me everything”

So, they did. They told her about Caligula, about how they had hoped Jason could be of help. How Jason had revealed of the prophecy he had been told, how if he and Piper helped Apollo and Meg. Either he or Piper would die.

So, he sacrificed himself, Reyna thought. Of course, he would. She could feel herself coming apart. She clutched the armrests tightly while Apollo and Meg told her what happened.

When they got to the part when they were in the Labyrinth. They explained that they had been given notes of riddles that they had to solve. That they realized after a while that it was a prophecy.

“And what did the Prophecy say?” Reyna asked.

Apollo and Meg paused before Apollo continued to speak. “I’m so sorry” Apollo said. “But while I did come to make sure that Jason is properly laid to rest…”

“You need something from me,” Reyna said. She wanted to lash out at Apollo tell him to go to the Underworld. But she resisted and allowed him to ask.

“The prophecy we received in California stated that: Apollo faces death in Tarquin’s Tomb unless the doorway to the soundless god is opened by”

Apollo sighed.

Reyna narrowed her eyes. “By who”

Apollo sighed. “It appears to have said “Bellona’s Daughter”

“Appears?”

“The last part of the prophecy was a bunch of different lines that I hadn’t realized was actually an Acrostic poem, until it was pointed out.”

Reyna was a little interested. “What did these lines say?”

Apollo thought. “I can’t remember all of them… Bronze upon gold, east meets west, something about destroying a tyrant? Aid the winged. Enter strangers’ home. Regain lost glory”

Reyna nodded once or twice. “Continue”

So, they explained how Medea had shown up. How Apollo had been chained, how Medea had started to break him apart, how everyone had tried to stop her, How Herophile had insisted that Apollo had finished what was started, but all that came were incoherent lines, how they had almost lost but Piper had come in at the last moment.

When they finished Reyna stood. “Thank you,” Reyna said. “I shall think about what you have told me, and give you my answer soon”

Apollo and Meg nodded and took there leave.

Reyna collapsed back into her chair and for a long time didn’t leave her chair.

 ---        

Before she could give her answer, Reyna had to tell or try to tell the other 7 that Jason had grown close too.

So, she found Frank and Hazel and told them what happened. Hazel had cried, while Frank had stood still holding onto Hazel’s shoulder as she cried. Frank had thanked her for coming to tell him before Reyna had left them alone to deal with there grief.

She had tried to contact Percy and Annabeth but neither had been reachable.

Only after she had done that had she turned back to the problem presented to her. Whether or not she should help Apollo.

Reyna knew that she should. There weren’t many other daughters of Bellona at camp, none with her experience and the only other daughter of Bellona she could think of to help was the leader of the Amazons and was incapable.

Besides. After hearing how Caligula killed Jason, she wanted to help bring the Triumvirate down.

So, she went to Apollo and said that she would help. She brought them back to the Principia again and they talked. At least until Thalia and Iphigenia appeared.

Thalia yelled at Apollo, but Apollo took it in stride. Something that surprised Reyna. Instead, he left her and Thalia alone.

Thalia expressed a desire to see her brother, and so Reyna stood and walked Thalia and her companion over to where Jason’s body was being held. Reyna spoke to her, trying to make Thalia feel a little better- told her that Jason had never forgotten her, not really. By the small smile that appeared, Reyna could tell she succeeded if only a little.

When they entered the room where Jason was. Reyna and Iphigenia held back to give Thalia a moment.

When Thalia started to cry Iphigenia and Reyna turned to give Thalia a bit of privacy.

Reyna’s heart went out to Thalia. Thalia had lost her brother at such a young age and then had only been able to see him again years later. They had barely gotten to know each other before they had needed to go on their own respective quests, and then hadn’t been able to meet up again.

And now they never could.

Thalia made her way back to Jason and they walked out of the building together, just as Apollo was making his way back in.

“No,” Thalia said. “You don’t get to see him.”

Reyna tried to step in to try to get Thalia to listen first. But Thalia refused, and Reyna could not really blame her.

Instead, she just watched as Apollo left.

---        

Thalia graciously excepted the task that Reyna gave her, to prepare the funeral for Jason. Reyna stated that whatever she wanted she would receive but did ask that she remember that Jason was Roman. Thalia had understood and immediately started the preparations.

With Thalia making the preparations she could help Apollo with his prophecy.

---        

They had to fight monsters in order to get to the Tyrants Tomb. In order to find the door to the silent god.

Reyna had given her power to both Apollo and Meg, to help them fight.

But then she felt something odd.

She felt guilt, and anger, coming from Meg and Apollo. That wasn’t so surprising, she had surmised as much when Apollo had delivered Jason’s coffin.

No, what surprised was the scar she could sense, near Apollo’s heart.

---        

When they had a moment of peace and Meg was asleep a couple of feet away. Reyna had asked what had happened. How he had gotten that wound.

Apollo hadn’t wanted to talk about it. Told Reyna that it didn’t matter because he had failed, that his plan hadn’t worked, and all it had done was make him immobile when it truly mattered.

“It’s just a wound from a stupid thing that happened,” Apollo said.

Reyna knew better than to push, a lot of soldiers she dealt with had wounds that they didn’t-couldn’t talk about their war wounds.

Reyna went quiet for a moment. “Does it have anything to do with Jason?” She asked.

Apollo flinched away. “I tried to help, he and Meg were trapped venti that Medea and Caligula were going to suck out my essence to be the new sun-god. So, I used that against him.

Reyna’s eyes widened. “Apollo- what did you do?”

Apollo looked away. “I threatened to kill myself.”

Reyna sat in shock; her eyes wide.

“When he refused to let Meg and Jason go, I stabbed myself and Medea’s control on the venti lessened and Jason was able to free meg and, well you know the rest.

Reyna nodded slowly, but didn’t know what to say- what could you say to that?

---        

It took days before they could find the Tyrants Tomb. Apollo had immediately been sucked into the tomb; Reyna could hear some ghostly cackling from the inside.

Meg started trying to open the door, break it down but nothing she did work. Reyna stopped her and reminded her of the prophecy, that they (she) had to open the door of the silent god.

Meg hadn’t liked it, but she decided to follow Reyna anyway.

----

Reyna had almost been unable to open the doorway to the silent god, but at the last possible moment, she had succeeded. She had broken bones and a scar along her forehead. But she succeeded.

But unfortunately, Apollo had not come out unscathed. When they finally found their way into the tomb, there was Apollo, lying in a pool of his own red blood, near death, and not breathing.

Reyna had immediately started CPR, barking at Meg, to get help. For a moment Meg had just stared at Apollo unable to move.

“Meg,” Reyna said sternly already on the ground. “Go, get help.”

“Apollo,” Meg said. “I order you to stay alive.”

Reyna hadn’t waited to see if her order had worked, but when she went to breathe for Apollo, he found Apollo to be breathing – shallow and hard but breathing, nonetheless.

---                    

Reyna and Meg had to be looked at too. Turned out Reyna had accidentally broken a few ribs. Oops. Meg had a sprained arm.

Apollo, unfortunately, had needed far more extensive care and had been wheeled away the moment he had entered the hospital.

“Do you think he’ll be fine?” Meg asked.

Reyna turned to Meg. Her head was faced down, and she seemed to be fiddling with her hands.

Meg was scared. Reyna placed a hand on meg’s shoulder. “I doubt the fates would let him die without finishing his quest.” She said.

Slowly Meg nodded.

---        

Apollo awoke a few days later when Reyna had come to visit him, Apollo had already heard about her own injuries by Meg.

“You shouldn’t have risked yourself like that,” Apollo said.

“It was the only way,” Reyna said. “You could have died.”

“Your ribs could have punctured your lungs, you should have stopped,” Apollo said.

Reyna shook her head. “I did it to save your life, it’s what you did for Jason, what Jason did for you.”

Apollo snorted. “And look how wonderfully that turned out for him.”

Reyna’s eyes widened, but instead of shouting, instead of telling Apollo that was uncalled for, she stopped. From an outside perspective, Apollo could be insulting Jason’s sacrifice, but Reyna had heard Apollo when he told her about his injury. She had felt his guilt and self-hate.

So, Reyna took a deep breath. “It was worth the risk,” Reyna said.

Apollo turned to Reyna his eyes wide. But Reyna was unable to continue so she quickly turned and left the room.

---        

The next time Reyna and Apollo met, it was after Apollo had been discharged from the hospital, Reyna was in her favourite place in the city, she hadn’t expected Apollo to find her.

Or perhaps he wasn’t looking, instead just looking for a place think too.

“I can leave,” He said when he found her there.

Reyna just shrugged, she didn’t want company, but she didn’t really want to be alone either.

For a long while, he just sat beside her not saying, or doing anything.

“Jason’s funeral is tomorrow,” Apollo said.

Reyna looked down. So soon?

Apollo didn’t say anything else after that. Just stayed quiet.

“We were inseparable” Reyna said, she could feel Apollo’s eyes on her, but she continued looking straight ahead. “Back before the giants and the Titans, back when it was just, training and nothing else, we were inseparable,” Reyna said. “We told each other everything” Reyna said. “He told me how he had vague memories of having a sister, I told him about my past, my past with my father, who I killed because of how unbalanced and dangerous he was.”

Apollo said nothing, but she had a sense that he was surprised. Reyna didn’t stop.

“He never judged me for that” Reyna said. Tears collecting in her eyes, she felt something take her hand, or maybe it was just her imagination. “Never, he understood,” She said. “He was the only person who could understand when I was angry or sad. He knew my favourite foods, my fighting styles, and I knew his favourite colour and how to counter his fighting styles, when the teachers were about bust us for breaking the rules, we would cover for each other all the time. Jason would defend me, and I would defend him.”  

Reyna looked down. “When we were made co-praetor, it was hardly even a surprise. The two of us knew each other like the back of our hands.”

“Then he disappeared for months, and when I finally see him again, everything's different. He finds he prefers camp half-blood, to our home, he wants to leave it behind.” Reyna said. “The home, he would have died for is the home he would turn away from without a second thought.”

“I doubt he saw it as that” Apollo said. “I doubt he saw it less about leaving you, and more as… branching out”

Reyna turned away.

. “I’m sure if you two had been able to contact each other, Jason would have done it every day,” Apollo said.

Reyna wasn’t too sure. “I miss him.” She said her voice cracked on the last word and she felt the tears she had been trying to hold away fall.

Apollo held her as tightly as he could. “I know, I’m sorry” He whispered.

A/N so this has had minimal edits. I’m posting this now because I wanted to post this before I read Tyrants Tomb.  If I do continue it’s probably not going to contain many Tyrants tombs spoilers. It might just also might not, depends on what works for the story. 

[writingsbychelle]

Two Hearts, One Heartbeat

Summary: Keeping the relationship between you and Isaak a secret was already hard enough but as Nikolai vanishes without a trace and Isaak has to take over the role of the King it becomes almost impossible. 

Pairing: Isaak Andreyev x Reader

Request: /

Warnings: mentions of dying?

Word Count: 1.993

(A/N: This is literally only written for @stardustbooknerd because I love her very much even though she keeps coming after me. Anyways, Isaak deserves more love and I’m still salty af over the ending of King of Scars.)

     A thin layer of sweat covered your skin as you snuggled against the slightly damp body of your boyfriend, your breath slowly returning back to normal as your fingers began tracing random patterns on Isaak’s chest. The guard pressed his lips against the top of your head, tightening his arms around your waist at the same time while you both tried to enjoy the rare moments of silence. None of your friends knew about your relationship with the former soldier, Saints, not even Genya had figured it out and usually she was the first one to detect traces of romance between the people near her. Maybe it was the fact that the Grisha Triumvirate and the people surrounding your King were too preoccupied with trying to restore Ravka after the Civil War, or maybe your friend was just distracted by her husband but you liked to think that your _phenomenal_ acting skills kept you from getting caught. Truly, it was a miracle no one had seen Isaak sneak in and out of your room at night, the stolen kisses after you informed Nikolai you had to discuss something with the guards, telling him to already go ahead just for you to be pressed against the nearest wall with your boyfriend’s arms wrapped around you.

     “Do you think we should tell them?” you turned your head to look at Isaak, his brown eyes softening as he gazed at you.

     “I’m ready if you are, my love. We just have to consider what might happen and how people will react. A powerful Grisha, one of the most trusted advisers of the King, being in a relationship with a simple guard…I doubt many people will agree with this.”

     You tilted your head so you were able to press a quick kiss against Isaak’s lips, your hand sliding up towards his jaw, your touch light and soft, “We don’t have to tell anyone right away. I could test the waters to see what people would think? At some point, I’d like at least our close friends to know, I’m sure they wouldn’t judge…”

     “And if they do, you could always stop their hearts or make their lungs collapse,” Isaak suggested with a cheeky grin on his face, causing you to chuckle.

     “I’m a Healer, not a Heartrender, my love.”

---

     Keeping your relationship hidden became a lot harder once Isaak had to take over the role of Nikolai as the King of Ravka. Since Nikolai and Zoya vanished without a trace while trying to find a way to get rid of his…sickness in the Shadow Fold. You had tried to sneak into the chamber that belonged to the King, now occupied by your boyfriend, several times but one of the twins, Tolya and Tamar, seemed to always be situated in front of the big double doors, making it impossible for you to spend at least some moments in privacy with Isaak. To say you were getting annoyed by this would’ve been an understatement. You were getting aggregated, your body tense and your skin tingling at every moment you had to spend separated from the man you loved. The fact that Genya came up with the idea of Isaak spending more time with Princess Ehri of Shu Han only worsened your mood even more, so much, in fact, that even David had noticed as you let yourself fall into the chair next to him while he was hunched over his notebook, scribbling and drawing new inventions into it.

     “You seem stressed out, (Y/N). What’s going on?” he looked up shortly before going back to his notebook, his hand moving quickly across the page but you could tell that he was still listening even if he didn’t look like it.

     “Besides the fact that Nikolai is gone and we’re basically driving Ravka to ruins? Nothing much…” you trailed off, fumbling with the cup of tea in front of you.

     “I know it doesn’t look good but we’ll manage this,” David tried to cheer you up, carefully placing his hand on your shoulder and giving it a soft squeeze before he lost himself in his work once again.

     “Thanks, David,” you mumbled before standing up again, grabbing your mug as you walked out of the small room to get some fresh air before you were to go back into the palace to make sure your boyfriend wouldn’t mess up while talking with any of the important people that had come to the party.

     Parties had never been something you really looked forward to, so you completely understood Isaak for wanting to get away as soon as possible from the loud music, the drinking and feasting, and from all those people that wanted to talk to the King. You felt sorry for your boyfriend, you truly did, and you could only hope that Nikolai and Zoya would resurface as soon as possible so they could take over again and allow you some alone time with the brown-haired man you loved. But even though the current situation wasn’t ideal, you still had to admit that Isaak was doing an amazing job at pretending to be Nikolai. Saints, you couldn’ve sworn being in a different skin made your boyfriend more confident, much to your amusement.

     Raising your cup to your lips you took a small sip, letting the warm liquid heat your body from the inside, while your feet carried to towards the conservatory when you heard a familiar shout in front of you, coming directly from where you were headed. Quickly you sped up your pace, clutching the cup in your hands so tight you might’ve crushed if it wouldn’t have fallen from your hands the second you stepped into the conservatory, the scene before you causing your body to freeze, the cup slowly slipping from your fingers and falling to the pavement underneath your feet. Almost instantly everyone seemed to stop their shouting and turned to look at you, Tamar who knelt beside the Shu princess with a dagger sticking from her chest, Genya with tears running down her face as her husband David held her close, Tolya, Zoya and Nikolai, the real Nikolai, who was wearing what seemed to be prisoner’s clothes, stood around another body laying on the floor, a pool of blood covering the floor around the man who looked so very much like the king.

     “Isaak?” you choked out, your mouth going slack as tears filled your eyes.

     You felt like you couldn’t breath, your chest tightening with every intake of air, like a python had wrapped itself around you and was tightening around your body every time you tried to take a breath while your heart beat frantically in your chest. It was as if the world came to a stop, everything around you blurring as your eyes settled on Isaak’s body on the cold, grey floor when you took a careful step forward, almost as if you were afraid he would disintegrate right in front of your eyes. Seeing his motionless body still on the floor, the stillness of his chest, you couldn’t help but fly forward, collapsing on your knees as you buried your face in the place where his shoulder met his neck, your arms lifting his limp body up as you pressed him against you.

     “No. No, no, no, no, please…,” you sobbed out, salty tears stinging in your eyes before they rolled don’t your cheeks.

     You didn’t notice Tolya and Nikolai taking a step back, you didn’t notice that Genya stopped crying, you didn’t notice the tears that ran down your face and wet Isaak’s clothes or the sticky blood that coated your hands, all you noticed was the faint heartbeat in his chest, your healing abilities gripping tight onto it as a warm feeling spread through your body, setting your every nerve alight while Isaak’s heartbeat seemed to grow stronger and stronger with every passing moment.

     Almost as if nothing had happened Isaak let out a gasp, sitting up after he opened his eyes, blinking in confusion as he took in his surroundings before his gaze settled in your tear-streaked face.

     “(Y/N)? What happened, my love?”

     Without answering him you just crashed forward, connecting your lips with his as your blood-covered hands tangled themselves in his soft hair, leaving red streaks through it. A sob of relief tore itself from the back of your throat, ripping you away from Isaak before you leaned your forehead against his, the feeling of being reunited with the man you loved pushing your fatigue away from the forefront.

     Carefully your boyfriend reached up, his hands cupping your cheeks as his thumbs wiped away the tears that were covering your cheeks, the touch prompting you to finally open your eyes again, just to look into his, which sadly enough still looked like Nikolai’s.

     “I hate to ruin this moment but…does anyone mind explaining this?” Nikolai gestured to Isaak and you, both of you sitting on the floor before you slowly got up, offering a hand to your boyfriend and pulling him to his feet.

     Still wobbly and weak, Isaak leaned against you for support, you arm instinctively wrapping itself around his waist to keep him steady.

     “I second that,” Genya said while trying to keep a smirk from forming on her lips, ultimately failing with her attempt though.

     “Yeah, about that…” you trailed off, “We’ve been together for a while now but we just…we wanted to tell you but there never seemed to be an appropriate moment to break the news.”

     “It’s good to see you back, Nikolai,” Isaak tried to grin at his old friend but let out a wince as he did.      “You should sit down, Isaak,” Nikolai stepped over to where you were standing, pushing Isaak down into a chair while shooting a teasing smirk in your direction together with a quick wriggle of his eyebrows which you answered with a roll of your eyes.

     You already knew your King would never let you live down the fact that you, a powerful Grisha Healer who had the dream of becoming a princess when she was a child, ended up falling for a simple guard such as Isaak, who just so happened to be a good friend of Nikolai as well.

     After discussing how to proceed from where you found yourself at, Isaak and you were left alone in the conservatory with Genya, who was surprisingly quick to restore the way your boyfriend looked before she had turned him into Nikolai.

     “It’s good to see your actual face again,” you chuckled slightly once Genya left to deal with the guests until everyone would meet up with you again.

     “It feels good to be in my own skin, too,” Isaak mumbled, his eyes drifting off as if he seemed deep in thought.

     “Isaak? Is everything alright?”

     “I…I could’ve died, (Y/N). You saved my life,” he said as turned to look at you, tears shining in his eyes.

     Shaking your head softly, you reached up to press your hands against his cheeks and pull him forward into a quick kiss, “I did what anyone in my position would’ve done.”

     “I love you,” you boyfriend blurted out, clasping your hands tightly in his as he spoke those meaningful three words for the first time.

     “I love you, too,” you mumbled out before moving forward to connect your lips with Isaak’s, his hands tangled in your hair as he pulled you closer, a soft sigh escaping you as you silently thanked the Saints that you had the conservatory to yourselves for the next two hours.

FEEDBACK IS GREATLY APPRECIATED!

[learnspanishfans]

How to Learn Swedish: 37 Lessons from My 6 Months Living in Sweden

When I realized I was going to have the chance to spend six months working in Sweden, I naturally got interested in the Swedish language. More so, when I started getting work emails I needed Google Translate to read. Even more so when I landed and couldn’t read the signs around me or understand anything people were saying. I decided I needed to learn Swedish. Towards the end of my time in Sweden, I went to Norway for the Starmus Science Festival. Stephen Hawking, moonwalkers and other astronauts, Nobel Prize winners and other intellectual stars lit up the stage in Trondheim, but I was struck linguistically by Norwegian. I knew it was similar to Swedish, but now I really 'got it'. It truly hit home that I'd learned some Viking. So, let’s dive in. Here’s a crash course in how to speak Swedish -- or as it could well be called: “how to learn Viking”. I went into this mission speaking English and German - and as Swedish is a Germanic language, I found this background knowledge really useful. Here are the 34 lessons I picked up in my time learning Swedish. Some of them are specific to Swedish, some of them will be useful for learning any language. Here goes:

How to Learn Swedish: The First Steps

Before you start learning a language, it’s best to find out about some of its features. This is so you can size up the challenge ahead, decide on a good strategy and jump in with some ‘feel’ for where you are headed. Lesson 1: Context is everything in language learning. Oddly, I was thrown in at the deep end but quite enjoyed it. One of the things with beginner language learning is that it’s well, so simple. That’s of course where you need to begin if you want to speak, but the meaty stuff comes farther along. My first exposure to Swedish was very advanced: emails from my University Department. The downside was that I couldn’t read hardly any of it, but the upside was that it was meaningful. I needed to understand these emails for my job. Lesson 2: Google Translate is your friend. I set about translating with Google Translate. I found it works pretty well but still makes some gaffs that you just have to look past. So, I knew I could rely on it as a tool, but only when taken with a grain of salt. Lesson 3: Look for cognates - the words you already know. Reading emails was a quick way of sizing up the types and numbers of cognates. Speaking both English and German, I had a good head start on Swedish, but was surprised how much of it looked ‘very different’. Lesson 4: Guess where you can - but take good note of when you guess wrong - and why. Often, when I compared my guesses to translations, I saw a lot of fuzz. Cognates I missed, especially because of the spelling and cognates I got wrong because they aren’t what they look like. My estimation of the challenge rose. Lesson 5: Use Google Translate’s audio feature. I used Google Translate to listen to my emails. My estimation of the difficulties of learning Swedish rose higher. What I was reading wasn’t looking a lot like what I was hearing. I was longing for good old German – where what you see is what you get. Lesson 6: Understand how well (or not) the spoken and written versions of your language match. I would learn much later that this in German what you see is what you get because the language was written down for the first time much later than Swedish. This means Swedish sounded one way when it was first written and is quite different today. Lesson 7: Keep note of all the words you’ve learned or want to learn. From Day 1, I took time to keep a digital record of the words I wanted to learn. I started a Google spreadsheet. Lesson 8: Focus on learning the words that matter to you - not what the phrasebooks tell you to learn. I built up a small and very specialist vocabulary specific to emails and my field. I learned to recognize words like nyheter (news), brev (letter), vidarebefordrat brev (forwarded email) Inbjudan (invitation), studenter (students) and phrases like Till alla medarbetare (to all employees). Lesson 9: Make a special effort to learn the “glue words.” I started to learn ‘the little words’. These ‘glue words’ occur so frequently, it’s best to learn straight off the bat. Three important glue words in Swedish are och (and), men (but) and “eller” (or). The sooner you conquer them, the better. Lesson 10: Two more essential glue words are en and ett. En is for animate and ett is for the inanimate definite article (a, an). Swedish condensed male and female a while back, which makes Swedish easier than German which retains the male, female, neuter (der, die, das) triumvirate. Lesson 11: Go with “en” when you’re unsure. I was told when in doubt go with en because it fits with some 85% of words. If people look at you funny, switch to ett. Lesson 12: There’s lots of romance in Swedish. Interestingly, I noted Swedish has a lot more romance language cognates than German. For example, “ice-cream” is glass, like the Italian glace, and “to write” is skriva. This makes Swedish an intriguing mix. I found out later this is due to an early influx from Latin and later from French. If you don’t already know a lot of French, this helps put into context unexpected letter combinations like fåtölj, from the French fauteuil, “armchair”. Lesson 13: Swedish word order is more akin to English than German. In fact, because of this, some say Norwegian is the easiest foreign language for an English speaker to learn. This is aided by the fact that Swedish is a subject-verb-object (SVO) like English, while German is SOV. Lesson 14: Adjectives come before nouns and are modified according to noun type (en or ett). Lesson 15: You’ll spend a lot of time on prepositions to get speaking idiomatic Swedish. Prepositions come before their nouns. This unlike a language such as Hindi, where they come after the noun. However, prepositions can be quite different in usage from their seeming equivalents in English. Lesson 16: While German capitalizes nouns, Swedish does not. In fact, it even drops caps from words we capitalize like nationalities, days of the week or months of the year. For example, on Sunday is på söndagen. Lesson 17: Immerse yourself as much as possible. With a dusting of recognition vocabulary, I hit the ground for a one-week visit. It confirmed just how widespread and beautifully spoken English is in Sweden. It can be hard to learn a new language in a country that speaks so much English, so well. Lesson 18: The first word to learn in any language is “thank you”. Then come the greetings “hello” and “goodbye”. I had long been saying ‘hey’ when I met friends, and I suddenly realized I fit into Sweden perfectly – hej is the primary greeting in Sweden. I felt more Swedish when I got to using hej hej and the same for thank you (tack). I now generally use tack tack. Lesson 19: Look for “cultural tokens” - words that you see all around you Along with the greetings, I managed to compile a list of the first 20 cultural tokens I encountered, like the famous köttbullar (meatballs) and kanelbullar (cinnamon rolls).

Learn to Speak Swedish: Living in Sweden

Lesson 20: Listen to all the words around you. Moving there, meant really trying to listen to Swedish, even though I only understood a little bit of what was being said. It was hard to escape the “English-bubble”, as most Swedish people speak fluent English, and would offer to speak with me in English. Lesson 21: Use what you know from other languages… to decipher as many cognates as possible. I decided to focus first on cracking the cognate patterns that would help me pick up the similarities to German as it would result in the quickest growth in my vocabulary and listening comprehension. For example, I saw betala in stores (on the cash register) and it took a bit to realize is it like bezahlen in German – to pay. Many of the cognates are shortened versions of the German (e.g. dropping of the ge- prefix). As I previously mentioned, there is also a lot of Latin in Swedish, so any knowledge you have of romance languages will come in useful too. Lesson 22: Don’t stick in your comfort zone of cognates forever. A huge turning point came being forced to do laundry in a communal room – I had to decipher the instructions for booking a time to use the machines: Ah! Those Norse words! The neighbour caught me using the wrong machine. Ah! Tvätt! My eyes missed the stickers on the washers saying tvätt 1 and tvätt 2. In typical Swedish fashion, he was incredibly nice and helpful and explained it means laundry. It was a eureka moment. I had to stop skipping those Viking words in favour of the more comfort-inducing German and French cognates. Lesson 23: Relish the unfamiliar. The Norse words became my favorites. Norse sticks out a mile for the wonderful letter combinations like: snygg (good looking), sjö (lake), kvinna (woman), pojke (boy). These are clearly north Germanic and not anything like the words you find in modern German. Lesson 24: Focus on a particular type of vocabulary you want to learn and build your specialist vocabulary. My second ‘breakthrough’ was to not try to be a vocabulary jack-of-all-trades. I went where it was natural to go: food. My practical exposure to Swedish was shopping for food, menus in cafes and my search for Swedish recipes. When you love something, it’s infinitely easier to stay motivated. Lesson 25: Enjoy the buzz when you’ve learned enough to recognize words in the real world. The first recipe I followed in Swedish was for a classic Swedish cheese pie! Because of this I got my first ‘word reward’, being able to read a sign for hot chocolate with cream in my favorite café. I’d just learned the word from cream (grädde). Things were starting to ‘add up’ – an excellent sign. Lesson 26: Make your phone support your learning. I invested in downloading the core Swedish vocabulary for Google Translate so I could use the image recognition feature to decode labels and recipes: as a treat, I would occasionally buy the glossy magazine Mat and Vin (Food and Wine), which I loved.

My Two Month Swedish Crash Course

After 8 weeks living in Sweden, I decided to take Swedish seriously and do my own “Swedish crash course”. Lesson 27: Set yourself a goal. I set myself a goal of two months to be able to ‘read Swedish’. For me, this meant understanding the ‘easy-Swedish’ on the news site 8sidor.se. This clear focus really helped. At first, I could read hardly anything on 8sidor.se. By week 6 I could read 75% of the content of stories and by week 7, I could do 100% on some. Today, for example, reading an article on Elton John, I only needed to look up hedrade (honoured), drabbas (suffer) and grindarna (gates) and I have gained a sense of familiarity with the language that is comforting even if I have a long way to go. Lesson 28: Give yourself a set amount of time per day. Short, intense bursts of focused concentration can prove invaluable, as long as you’re really able to concentrate. The crash course approach was my best phase of learning Swedish. I spent at least an hour a day, often more. Working intensively proved exponentially helpful as I saw words in many contexts in a short period of time. Intensive bursts of learning really help with reinforcement if you are consuming a wide range of materials. Lesson 29: Go for the top 1,000 words in your new language. I crammed vocabulary. Like an athletic boot camp, I conquered 1,000 of the easiest, highest frequency words. I used Quizlet flashcards. I’d listen and watch while commuting. It helps hugely to learn the high frequency words first: never waste your time on low frequency words until you’re ready for them. Lesson 30: Use online resources and videos. I learned off the web, especially YouTube, and focused on active listening: I looked for resources to help my listening, reading, and comprehension all at once. Lesson 31: ABBA! I found out that ABBA recorded in Swedish. In particular, I listened to “En av oss” over and over again watching with English subtitles. The vocabulary of the song “One of us” is helpfully simple and straightforward. For fun, I looked at a lot of lyrics in translation – they are different. I found they were quite different. Good to bear in mind if you know the English lyrics and expect to hear them verbatim in Swedish – you won’t. Lesson 32: The Swedish alphabet is different to English I learned there are 3 extra letters – it’s not an umlaut like in German (for a missing “e”) but three real letters at the end of the alphabet. The vowels are really complex in Swedish – and there are hard and soft versions. Swedish is what’s called a pitch language. This explains the unique second upturn in many words and gives the language its musical lilt Lesson 33: Knowing some grammar helps you make a lot more sense of what you’re reading. Learning grammar rules helped me distinguish words by their endings and thus significantly help with reading comprehension: One tricky aspect of Swedish is the lack of a word ‘the’, rather the definite article is appended to the end of each noun and is different in singular and plural. This takes some getting used to. Verbs are actually easier than English: there is no equivalent of ‘ing’, there are only five tenses, and verbs stay the same for all the pronouns. Passives ends in ‘s’ as do possessive forms of nouns. Adjectives have endings that match their nouns (based on en or ett). Adverbs never change – thank goodness something is static. Later I learned that many adverbs end in ‘t’. Lesson 34: Bring it all together with dialogue. Pronunciation, grammar and vocabulary all come together when listening to simple dialogues. I decided to focus to this video, Useful everyday phrases - Super Easy Swedish 1, subtitled in Swedish and English, to so some ‘deep learning’. This means comprehending to the point that you can hear the sentences in your head and recreate them, including with substitute words. This is the life-blood of speaking. Learning to Speak Swedish: Lessons with a Teacher My crash course over, I felt ready to start speaking with a Swedish teacher. I had gotten inside reading, but I wanted to pop the English-bubble in terms of speaking. Here’s what I learned with my teacher. Lesson 35: Read aloud to force yourself to speak… and improve your pronunciation. With my teacher’s help, I read aloud from books to work on pronunciation. This series of videos, “Träna att tala”, shows just how ‘red’ Swedish text can be when you mark up the differences between written and spoken Swedish. There was a lot to learn, but it helped immensely with my listening comprehension. Lesson 36: Learn basic sentences structures. I did this with both English and German sentences to see the extent of the difference - and the differences are numerous! Swedish really is a mix of German, English and a lot of its own stuff too (that Viking!). This exercise proved how different Swedish is to German and English, and created interesting challenges triangulating between English, German and novice spoken Swedish. Lesson 37: Make yourself a cheat sheet. During the last lesson, I created myself a ‘cheat sheet’ full of basic conversational statements and questions. The devil is in the details. In many ways, I ended where I should have started. Many people dispense with grammar and jump right to basic conversation but I would have been too curious about the “why’s” to sit still. And it left the best for last -- conversation.

My Next Step in Speaking Swedish: Towards ‘Talking to Learn’

Now that I’ve left Sweden, I would love to go back. I’m still trying to read the news in Swedish, and I’ve taken to watching Swedish movies with English subtitles. I can’t recommend “En man som heter Ove” highly enough. My next step is to pick up with my list of basic statements and questions and go from there, building up a core set of phrases and sentences I can say with confidence. I now have a vocabulary that far exceeds what I would have attained if I’d spent my time learning to speak basic touristic Swedish. I was just too keen to read ‘real world Swedish’ not to invest my time being a bookworm. After this long and enjoyable ‘prequel’, I’m prepped to get to my end goal of “talking to learn”. Are you learning Swedish? I’d love to hear about that. Tell me why you’re learning Swedish, and the steps you’re taking to learn in the comments.

The post How to Learn Swedish: 37 Lessons from My 6 Months Living in Sweden appeared first on Fluent in 3 months - Language Hacking and Travel Tips.

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