Head empty, i say, as if i'm not overthinking everything.

- Nikita Gill

1.

Fly into the sun, defy anyone who tells you that you cannot love Him.

The ocean will break your fall. even if it is by drowning you.

(You knew he would burn you, Icarus you simply thought he was worth the risk)

2.

Get stolen by a God away from the meadows you once knew, wood nymph.

Become Queen of the Underworld. Turn the land of the dead into home.

(You knew didn’t you, Kore? How to survive you would become Persephone?)

3.

Turn yourself into an echo of the person you used to be, then fall in love with him.

And when he doesn’t notice you Instead falls in love with himself, pine away.

(Narcissus could never love you, dear Echo. Not the way he loved himself.)

4.

Become an indestructible monster. Become the thing that warriors speak of in hushed breaths in terror.

When you finally do die at someone’s hands make sure it is glorious.

(Theseus was the only end worthy of you, Minotaur.)

5.

When the Sea God assaults you, turn people into stone. Turn Gods into stone.

Turn anything that threatens you ever again into stone.

(Medusa, Athena turned you monster to protect you. She took your beauty to give you power.)

6.

Adore her so much that the world grieves with your broken heart’s song.

Almost save her from the Underworld. Almost.

(Orpheus, all you had to do was not turn to look at her.)

7.

Marry a God King.

Watch him betray you over and over again. Become bitter and cruel.

Recognise he will never respect you. Promise to make him suffer till he does.

(Hera, I know why you couldn’t leave him, it was all for love, it was all for love)

8.

Become an undefeated warrior in a war where you lose everything you love.

Even the one you love most of all. Don’t realise it. Keep fighting.

(Achilles, Patroclus’ love would have made you immortal anyway.)

9.

Be unhappy in your marriage. Find a dangerous Prince who promises you a real love.

Run away with him

Do not think of the consequences.

(Helen, you didn’t just launch a thousand ships you set kingdoms ablaze.)

10.

Destroy everyone you love in a murderous rage.

Go on a journey hoping it will kill you

(Hercules tell the truth, you hoped those tasks would be your destruction didn’t you?)

Addendum:

Don’t become a myth. Stay human.

Stay mortal.

It is less wounds.

Like please imagine yourself as Briseis. You’re living in your small farming village outside of Troy with your family. There’s been talk of war, but not just any war, a war that’s going to spoken about for centuries. A terrible, bloody thing where men will die by the thousands. You’ve all heard the whispers on the wind- The Greeks have Achilles. The greatest warrior of your time. The boy who can’t be killed.

They descend upon the farming villages first, as you all knew they would. It’s strategic- Dismantle the working class and the royalty will follow. You’re holed up somewhere in a barn with a group of children behind you, some of them your siblings, some of them family friends, when the men enter the building. You know what that means. If they’re taking the time to search and loot the village, all the able bodied men are dead. Your father is dead. You don’t have time to process it before one of the Greeks pulls you to your feet and carries you away. He leaves the children. You’re the only one old enough to be considered a prize.

You’re standing on a podium, clothes tattered and covered in mud. Your hair is wind swept and tangled. Your hands are bound and there’s a thousand eyes tracing your body. You know why you’re here; your mother had pulled you aside a few nights before the war started and sat you down. She told you about the girls who get taken. She needed you to be prepared- as prepared as you could be. You think you’re going to this barbaric looking King who’s much taller than you and much broader than you- Terrifying, loud, and proud. Some of the worst things a man can be.

But then you’re turned in the other direction, to face another leader, a Prince to be exact, and you feel the color drain from your face. They’ve spoken of bright blonde hair and a nimble body, green eyes and bloodied hands. You’d seen him in your nightmares. Achilles. Aristos Achaion. The savior of the Greeks, kills a hundred men by the day. He wants you and he’s not taking no for an answer. Not only are princes known for their appetites but he’s young, younger than the rest by years, and you know that only means he'll be all the more ravenous. The rumors say that he's half god, and the stories of his presence on the battlefield speak enough of his stamina- He won't tire easily like the old Kings might.

Now you’re in his tent, you and him and another boy. His advisor, maybe? His right hand, at least, to be so comfortable in the Prince's tent. That boy approaches you slowly, timidly, speaking gibberish to you in hushing tones. Did you miss something? Did Achilles bring you back as a present for this man? Why was Achilles still here, then? To ensure you behave? As if you weren’t equally terrified of them both. The companion touches you and it’s gentle. Your mother told you it was a rarity and you should be eternally grateful if they’re gentle. Be gracious, she said, but you can’t bring yourself to do it. You flinch away, lash out. There’s a pause, a few more words, and he tries again. You kick away.

He huffs. He’s annoyed. Frustrated. You’re making it worse for yourself, you know you are. He straightens up, glancing around the tent- for what, you don’t know, and then suddenly, he’s grabbing Achilles by the shirt and dragging him into a kiss. A kiss. Not the way your father greets his friends, but the way your father greets your mother. It’s hard pressed, white knuckle grip releasing from a wrinkled tunic. And now Achilles, Aristos Achaion, the boy who can’t be killed, is standing there with reddened cheeks and eyes wide as saucers.