#CAN YOU HEAR ME ACHILLES I'M TALKING TO YOU

[tanjir0se]

Hewwo I just made myself sad thinking about Giyuu to Achilles Come Down how're you doin

"…No audience could ever want you, you crave the applause yet hate the attention Then miss it, your act is a ruse"

"…Today, of all days, see How the most dangerous thing is to love How you will heal and you'll rise above Crowned by an overture bold and beyond Ah, it's more courageous to overcome"

Thank you so much anon i am now so fucking lost in the sauce. Waist deep disheveled wandering through the sauce. Months without food or water lost at sea in the sauce. and i will be crumbling into dust thank you

[cftragedy]

they had spent much of their life wanting half the recognition for their accomplishments maxim got by just existing, but if that sort of attention could so easily turn critical, scrutinizing, disappointing? they recoiled as much as they wanted to reach for it.

gif credit

@vitaiisms

[sushiyuzu]

a fake relationship

nanami kento x reader

a/n: interested to read more? click here to read the book!

the school bell rings, echoing through the hallways as students spill out of classrooms, chatting, laughing, and groaning over the latest assignments. you're in no particular rush, meandering through the crowded corridor on your way to your locker. most of your friends have already left, probably heading to the café nearby or the library. but you? you have a different kind of problem to face—one that's been plaguing you all semester: math.

you open your locker with a sigh, tossing in a textbook and pulling out your crumpled math test results. a large, angry red 48/100 glares back at you from the paper, and you wince. it's the third failed math test this month. no matter how hard you try, no matter how many formulas you attempt to memorize, numbers just don't seem to click in your brain. you stuff the paper into your bag, muttering under your breath.

"great. just great."

you're not dumb—far from it. you're a pretty solid student in most subjects, but math? math is your achilles' heel. and you can already picture the conversation with your parents at dinner tonight. they've been on your case about your grades, and if they find out about another flunked exam, well... that's a disaster you're not ready to deal with.

as you slam your locker shut with more force than necessary, you catch a glimpse of nanami kento. he's standing at his locker not far from yours, his face set in that calm, unreadable expression he always wears. neat, composed, a little too perfect, really. you've never spoken more than a few words to him in class, but he's hard not to notice. he's the kind of guy who seems like he has everything figured out—top of the class, disciplined, never flustered by anything.

you're about to turn away when a shrill voice rings through the hallway.

"nanami-kun!"

a group of girls is lingering nearby, one of them stepping forward with a bright, flirtatious smile. "are you free after school? maybe we could study together?"

the girl's voice is sweet, her smile almost rehearsed, like she's done this a hundred times before. it's no secret that nanami is one of the most sought-after guys in school, and girls are always trying to get his attention.

you pause, pretending to fix your bag as you watch out of the corner of your eye, already knowing how this will go.

without even looking up from his locker, nanami replies, "i'm busy."

his voice is polite but detached, and the girl's smile falters. she quickly tries to recover. "oh, well... maybe another time?"

nanami doesn't respond, continuing to organize his books like she's not even there.

the girl fidgets awkwardly before giving up, walking back to her friends with a disappointed shrug. you can hear them whispering and giggling as they retreat down the hall. you almost feel bad for her—but at the same time, it's no surprise. nanami has this way of effortlessly deflecting attention, and yet, that only seems to make people more interested in him.

you snap out of your thoughts, turning to leave, but as you sling your bag over your shoulder, you feel a presence beside you.

"hey."

the deep, calm voice startles you, and you turn to find nanami kento standing right next to you. your heart skips a beat. you're not used to him being this close, let alone speaking to you directly.

"uh, hey?" you reply, trying not to sound as confused as you feel. why is nanami kento talking to you of all people?

he glances around briefly, then lowers his voice, his expression serious. "i need to ask you for a favor."

your eyebrows shoot up. a favor? from nanami? you're intrigued, to say the least. "what kind of favor?"

he hesitates for a moment, his eyes flicking back to the group of girls still lingering at the end of the hallway. then, with that same calm composure, he says, "i need you to pretend to be my girlfriend."

what?

for a second, you're sure you misheard him. "excuse me?"

"a fake relationship," he clarifies. "it'll be temporary."

you blink at him, completely thrown off. this was not the kind of favor you were expecting.

"okay..." you say slowly. "why would you need a fake girlfriend?"

nanami's eyes shift toward the group of girls again, the faintest hint of annoyance crossing his features. "lately, i've been getting a lot of unwanted attention," he explains, his voice low but steady. "it's distracting, and i don't have the time or interest to deal with it."

you take a second to process his words, your mind still trying to catch up. the most composed, serious guy in school needs a fake girlfriend to fend off admirers? it almost sounds ridiculous. but then again... you look at him—stoic, serious, perfectly put-together. you can see why people would constantly try to break down his walls.

"and you think this'll work?" you ask, crossing your arms skeptically.

nanami's expression doesn't change. "yes. people will lose interest once they see i'm already in a relationship."

you chew your lip, still unsure. "okay, but... why me?"

he turns his gaze to you, his eyes steady. "because you're not caught up in that drama. you're not the type to spread rumors, and you're not interested in unnecessary attention."

he has a point. you've always kept a low profile, and you don't really involve yourself in school gossip. but still...

"and what's in it for me?" you ask, raising an eyebrow.

nanami doesn't hesitate. "i'll help you with whatever you need—homework, projects. you need help with math, don't you?"

your stomach flips at the mention of math. of course, nanami would know that. he's in your class, after all, and you've failed more than enough tests for it to be common knowledge by now. but still, hearing it from him—someone who probably never struggles with any subject—stings a little.

"how do you know that?" you mutter, crossing your arms defensively.

nanami raises an eyebrow, unfazed. "i've seen your test results. you're not bad in other subjects, but math is holding you back."

you're about to snap something back, but you stop yourself. he's right. you've been struggling in math all semester, and it's been dragging your grades down. if you fail one more test, your parents will lose it.

"and you're offering to tutor me?" you ask, the skepticism still clear in your voice.

nanami nods. "in exchange for this arrangement."

the offer is tempting—really tempting. it's not like you have any better ideas for improving your math grades, and having nanami, the top student, help you? that could actually save your skin. but at the same time, agreeing to a fake relationship with him? it's crazy.

you glance at nanami again. his expression is calm, composed, but there's something else in his eyes—something genuine. he's not asking for this because he wants attention or drama. he just wants peace.

after a long pause, you sigh. "fine. i'll do it."

for the first time, nanami's expression softens just a little—a flicker of relief, maybe. "thank you."

you smirk, a little more at ease now. "but if you flunk me in math, this deal is off."

nanami chuckles lightly—something you've never heard from him before. "you won't."

as you walk down the hallway together, the weight of the deal you've just made starts to sink in. you're about to dive into something completely unexpected, and who knows how this will all play out?

but one thing's for sure: your school year just got a whole lot more interesting.

[jiayouqi]

✩‧₊˚ first time with him. | m!rover headcanons.

⋆.˚ ⁀➴ synopsis: it's just you and rover alone...so what's it like when things escalate between you two for the first time?

⋆.˚ ⁀➴ characters involved: male rover, gender neutral reader.

⋆.˚ ⁀➴ warnings: sub!rover, dom!reader, very soft first time, gentle, lots of praise, handjob (sub receiving)

⋆.˚ ⁀➴ notes: sub rover is literally something that infects my brain and i'm happy to let it do so. this is self-indulgent, being soft with subs is my achilles heel > <;;!! hope you all enjoy this as much as i like fantasizing about it! requests are open as always, please read rules before sending them in!

⋆.˚ ⁀➴ minors dni with this post/blog.

୨⎯ male rover ⎯୧

a pretty sub, both in looks and in how he sounds.

nervous, about to explode from how anxious he is at the prospect of you two going at it together for the first time.

worries that he'll do something wrong, so his touches are shaky and a little hesitant.

a bit shy, needs your guidance in order to help him understand the flow of it all.

a praise fiend, loves hearing that he’s doing a good job from you and how cute you think he looks when he’s in this state.

the briefest of touches sometimes can rile him up easily. 

going on the running theory that tacet marks are sensitive, he’ll whimper whenever your hand brushes against his, feeling his cheeks flush hot.

it’s the smallest of things for him that get him worked up. a soft kiss on his jawline down to the nape of his neck, the way you nibble his ear, the way your hand is gently rubbing circles on his hip bone, goodness he’s going to burst. 

has the cutest gasps. he’s always surprised by what you do, no matter what it is. 

by the time you actually get to his length, he’s already dripping from his pretty pink tip. he’ll whine and squirm, begging you to help him finish, help him release, help him with the mess you created. 

rover glances down at you with his golden eyes, gasping softly as he sits on your lap and grips onto your shoulders. he’s becoming undone by the second at every tease, every soft graze, every sweet nothing you whisper into his ear. he feels as if he’s going to go insane at this point, whimpering cutely as you gently grab his shaft into your hand. you lean your head a bit to the side, stretching a bit and kissing his tacet mark softly, which earns another small whine from him. 

“p-please, you can’t, i-i can’t do this, i need, i need…” he trails off, cut off by a soft moan as he leans forward and hides his face in the nape of your neck. it's a dizzying feeling, having you touch him like this. his legs are shaking, his pale white thighs on either side of your waist as he hiccups. rover can hear you smile when you talk to him, babying him through everything. 

“what do you need, pretty rover?~ use your words, sweetheart.” augh, there you go again with another compliment. he whines a bit, feeling a bit overwhelmed as he tears up.

“p-please, i need you. i need to cum, i-i’ve been so good haven’t i?” he’ll ask, his voice soft and hoarse as you hum for a moment. he takes your silence as a no sign, but when he suddenly feels you picking up the pace, he’ll suddenly get louder and more vocal. rover’s grip on you becomes harder as he bucks his hips a bit, moving with the motions of your hands to reach his climax faster. but, he doesn’t release until you let him by whispering into his ear that he can. he’s obedient after all, and he would hate to cum without your permission.

he lets out one last high pitched whine before he cums, making a mess on his stomach and yours, the pretty white seed spewing everywhere. rover’s breathing is staggered and shaky right after, hiding in your neck. he feels embarrassed when he feels your fingers brushing up against his soft tummy, whining softly as he hears you lick some of his cum onto your finger and exaggerate the noise of you tasting it. 

“you taste so sweet, rover~ you did such a good job for me.” you tell him, gently rubbing his back and coaxing him down from the high as he loosens up his hold a bit, clinging onto you cutely like a koala as he feels his breathing slowly steady out. he felt as if he just went to the divine and back, and it leaves him wondering when the next time will be.

[yanderefarm]

Ok there's vampire ares, but what about vampire or even pet Achilles, sadistic vampire reader who holds very popular "parties" where all the guests drink, have sex, and watch reader torture humans and vampires alike, maybe even add a casino element with people placing bets on who will scream loudest, last the longest without passing out, etc

cw;; blood drinking, blood, dehumanization, torture, needles, drugs

i was possessed to write this. i love this whole concept so much.

some vampires are kind to humans, they remember their own humanity and treat humans with care like domestic animals. some vampires have either forgotten or abandoned their original humanity in favour of making the weak suffer. and with modern technologies it's easier to push these humans to the absolute breaking point.

you're not so cruel as to hate humans, they make you money and entertain you after all, but you do enjoy hearing a human's will break. that's why you have your nightclub, an underground place where deranged perverts go to torture humans. human pets who were abandoned, human uprising activists, a greedy blood bank employee, a misbehaving human cattle, anything you wanted could be found right here. it was a demon's slice of heaven and the humans pit of hell.

you were enjoying the screams of the damned from your vip seat, blood wine in hand and two of the most sadistic female vampires you knew on your arms. they knew staying near you would mean they got a taste of the best humans to break. one of your usual suppliers approached your seat with 3 humans following behind him. two of them were clearly pets, numbers written on their faces to signify lot numbers, while the third and most beautiful wasn't marked or scarred he looked out of place.

"this was their last day on the auction. no one wants em so-"

"what about him."

the other vampire looks back at the pretty boy and sighs.

"he's a return. his owner complained he doesn't talk, doesn't scream, doesn't even get afraid."

your eyebrow raised in curiosity. you took his chain from the man, yanking the beautiful man closer to you.

"what's your name?"

"i told you he doesn't talk, sir. dunno how mu-"

"achilles."

his pretty voice was like honey. your supplier looked at him shocked while a smirk crossed your lips. you sat up fully intrigued by your new beautiful guest.

"achilles~ how come you're here and not being pampered and adored by one of the nice guys?"

"because I'm too beautiful to waste on them."

you laughed at that, the other vampires sheepishly joining in. as your laughter died you pulled him down to your level by his chain. your cold fingers gently brushed some of his pretty red curls out of his face.

"is that what the one who abandoned you said? or do you really believe it?"

it was amusing how naturally his stoic face leaned into your gentle touch.

"he told me that. he also said beautiful things, like me, look best when we're screaming and crying."

as if to punctuate his cold delivery you could hear a harsh thwack followed by a human's sobbing screams. you ran your thumb over his soft skin down to his pretty lips.

"that's why you didn't scream for him right? wouldn't make a noise, wouldn't cry. no, not you. you won't let these sick vampire bastards win. am i close?"

"i need to get home to my family. nothing he did to me was so unbearable that i couldn't endure for them."

your sadistic smirk turned to a genuine smile as you looked him over.

"... I'll make you a deal. you show me your worth and I'll protect your family."

he remained quiet contemplating it for a minute.

"if my worth is screaming and being in pain i don't know how well i can preform."

you let out a huff in amusement.

"don't worry I'll take care of your suffering if you agree to this."

"i would like to talk more about the terms but i just have to prove to you i have some value? is that correct?"

"that's correct."

"will any value be sufficient even if it's not what you're picturing?"

"hmmm... yes. even if your only value is your blood or your good looks. i still hope you'll endeavor to show me more than that, though."

"so i succeed by simply agreeing. you just hope to motivate me to be pushed to the edge?"

"yes. that's right. so, do you agree?"

"i agree."

you paid the supplier for all three of them, leaving the lesser two to the female vampires by your side. they both went about feeding on their new toys first while you sat achilles in your lap.

after a short while of just sitting there a waiter came up to you with a silver platter. in the middle of the platter was a syringe filled with a hot pink liquid. achilles eyed it, clearly intimidated by the sight but there was nothing he could do to stop you from picking it up. your other hand grabbed his jaw roughly, forcing his lips to purse.

"open."

he hesitated before he opened his mouth.

"tongue out."

his pretty wet tongue slipped out of his mouth giving him a slutty look there in your hands. pretty boy. you released his jaw but he kept his mouth open like a good boy. you tapped the syringe twice before bringing the sharp tip to his outstretched tongue. you didn't hesitate even as he flinched, plunging the whole thing into his tongue.

one of the girls looked at you both with wide eyes. "the whole thing??"

you gently removed the needle and placed it back on the silver platter, dismissing the waiter.

"what was it...?"

"if he's going to be amusing he'll need the whole thing. now get up and strip."

achilles hesitated again, his body actually frozen as he stood there brow furrowed. you let out a heavy sigh and began to unbutton his shirt.

"what... was it...?"

"it was something that will make you feel good. it makes your whole body sensitive."

you pulled his shirt down over his shoulders and discarded it to the side.

"is it dangerous to use all of it..."

"no. it'll just hit you really hard. it's ok, I'll take care of you but you do need to do exactly as I say. now take your pants off."

he stood up doing as you ordered with his cold face. he went to sit in your lap again but instead you lead him to the side of the couch and told him to stand there with his hands behind his back. he could feel everyone in the club staring at his naked body and you noticed his soft cock twitch slightly. you smirked before giving him a quick kiss and returning to your seat.

it took about 20 minutes before you finally heard a sound from achilles. you'd just been sharing one of the other pets, indulging in the free blood, when you heard the softest sluttiest whimper you've ever heard. you looked over to see your forgotten game with his entire body flushed and his cock stiff and leaking. he was clearly trying to stand still but even the slightest bit of breeze made him squirm and flinch. your eyes widened and your hunger that had been successfully satisfied so far tonight was like a fresh tidal wave. you needed to sink your fangs into him. you needed him screaming.

you got up abandoning everything too transfixed on your pretty toy to care. your breath was hitched when you reached inches from his wanting body, your fingers hovered over his skin. he looked over at you his stoic face now red and his eyes had hearts in them. he was like a masterpiece of want and desire you didn't even want to touch him for fear of ruining his perfect body. you hesitantly ran your fingers over his soft pink lips and a sultry moan flowed from his lips like honey.

everyone in the club was staring at you both now. everyone wanted this pretty piece of ass. you felt an odd twinge of jealousy and possessiveness strike. you pulled your hand away from your toy's lips instead grabbing his wrist roughly. god he let out another slutty moan. you couldn't stand that everyone could hear him. you started dragging him forcefully to your private room. as you did you noticed his feet struggling to keep up with your quick steps. you surprised yourself when you slowed down and matched his pace.

god you were already whipped for this pretty human.

as soon as you were in the private room you shoved him into the door, your mouth swallowing his slutty moans with a passionate kiss. his whole sensitive body twitched and jerked as his cock spilled cum onto his stomach. fuck. you pulled away to look at his mess leaving him gasping for air. he looked down as he tried to compose himself and the sight of his stomach covered in cum made him whimper. fuck.

you slammed your hand over his mouth hitting his head against the door.

"you're gonna fucking scream."

[user2772636]

Douzième Fille

12th girl

××《☆》××

Having to be in pairs for a group project, two people with mixed feelings work together to create a presentation. Going into eachothers houses is easy until a certain cat wants to play cupid. Feelings erupt, and miscommunication has to be endured. A soccer game in the rain might prove that Descamps listens more than he should.

===

Joseph Descamps x Reader

Warnings: bullying (poor pichon), boys being boys, very confusing feelings, angst bcs of achilles and patroclus (maybe even joseph and reader???), miscommunication in the enemies to lovers department, swearing

This chapter has references to The Song of Achilles book (ik its not the right timeline, but we have to do this for the angst so bare w me)

===

===

Chapter three: He is half my soul, as the poets say

===

The scores of our exams are being published. I sit in my seat, eyes scanning the numbers and fingertips smoothing out the paper. Most of them are in the ranges of 12-16, which is good enough for me.

"As you know, this is a school where we like to experiment with new methods. Next week, we are going to try a new approach." I look up from my papers, interested in the proposal of something new.

"You're going to prepare a presentation, working in pairs. You'll be working with the classmate sitting next to you, and then you'll present your work in class together. And for a sense of free will, you can present about any subject. How does that sound?"

I look to the girl next to me. Her name was Louise. She's quiet most of the time and keeps to herself. I smile softly. She smiles back.

The teacher clears his throat, eyes on Descamps and Dupin. "You two, of which I already expect a chaotic presentation, will be paired with someone else." His eyes land on me and Louise. Please, no.

"Descamps and Pardine, Louise and Dupin. Please remember your partner." I internally groan, placing my head into my hands. I look to my side, already seeing Louise and Dupin waving to each other, Louise giggling. I groan again. I don't look at Descamps. He doesn't, either.

Pichon raises his hand. "What if we're sitting alone?" The class laughs. I look at Pichon in pity.

"Well, you can work with Ms. Sabiani." The teacher says in response.

"Look. Pichon is blushing. He's turned pink like a pig." Dupin says, and the class laughs again. Even Louise giggles. She likes him, it's obvious, but what is there to like? I roll my eyes.

"That's enough, Dupin." The teacher shouts at him, the smile on his face gone. Annick raises her hand.

"Do we really have to work in pairs?" She asks.

"That's the whole point." He answers. "And I'm warning you, half a pair's work will result in half the grade."

××《☆》××

As I walk down the stairs, I look up when I hear pigs oinking. I wasn't wrong. Descamps' group of friends are pigs.

When I spot Simone and Michèle in the bench under the tree, our usual spot, I make my way to them.

"Help me gain some decency to go up to Descamps and not punch him in the face." I groan as I sit on the bench with them.

"It's unfortunate for you. Our teacher could've picked anyone else." Michèle says, pity in her voice.

"Should I go talk to him now or later?" They don't answer because they see Descamps make his way towards us.

I fight the urge to start an argument with him. About anything, really. Just to get him to stay a bit longer. I clear my throat at the thought.

"Your place?" He says, now standing infront of us, hands in his pockets. I nod once, and he walks away.

"Thank god that was over quick." Something deep inside me knew I didn't mean that.

Jean Pierre walks towards us with a book in hand. I look at Simone with a teasing smile, but there's something in her eyes I can't really tell. Like she knows something.

"Here, this is yours." He hands Michèle the book. "I put it in my bag by mistake." Michèle thanks him. He walks away with a 'see you later'.

Michèle continues to complain to us about her grades. Simone sighs, mind floating away. I look at her confused. I'll ask her about it later.

I look towards Applebaum. We make eye contact, and I smile. He looks away, fear in his eyes. What's up with everyone today?

××《☆》××

In one of those rare moments, my parents are home for dinner. We sit in the dining table, enjoying our food.

"Someone's coming over tomorrow. I know you won't be here, but I thought it'd be better if you knew." I tell them, handing small bits of food to George.

"Oh? What will you be doing?" My father asks, cutting his food into smaller pieces.

"Group project. We'll probably just stay in my room." I pet George as he eats his food.

"Are we going to meet her even after the project?" My mother says, looking up from her food.

"He, actually. And no." This makes them pause, silence surronding the room. My father clears his throat.

"A boy? And both of you will be in your room?" He says, placing his elbows on the table.

I take time to process this. "Papa, no. It's not like that." I turn red in my seat. "Trust me, it's just a project. Nothing else."

"Of course we trust you. It's just, you know. You're a teen, and teens go through... stuff." My mother says, stuttering a bit. I cover my face with my hands.

"Mama, please don't make it weird." I groan.

"No, it's perfectly normal for your age. If you want, we can forget about it-" I cut her off.

"Yes, please. Forget about it." I cut my food aggressively, face as warm as my plate.

We stay quiet as we finish the rest of our dinner.

××《☆》××

"The league of nations, L.O.N..." I fade the rest of the discussion out, watching the way the sun rests on the trees leaves, the birds tending to themselves. Last nights conversation clouds my mind, and I catch myself smiling for no reason.

I sigh every time, biting my lip in my own embarrassment. I glance at Descamps. He's focusing on the lesson for once. Nothing will happen at my place, right?

He feels my gaze on him and gently turns his head. His eye meets mine, and there's a small quirk on the corner of his lip.

"Quiet at the back." Ms. Giraud calls out suddenly.

Descamps looks away. I purse my lips, something stirring in my chest. My breathing is faster, and I feel warmer. Have I gotten sick already?

Annick walks into the room, hair tousled and frizzy. Ms. Giraud shouts at her, and my ear drums are about to explode.

Ms. Giraud gives Annick detention, and with every word Annick said back, an hour or two more.

Ms. Giraud continues to piss me off every second of the day with her strictness and very clear jealousy towards Annick. She finally continues the discussion, and I (annoyingly) decide to finally listen.

××《☆》××

I wait right outside the gate for Descamps. He comes running to the gate but slows down when he sees me, acting like he wasn't just leaping to get here.

"Hey." He says, acting nonchalant. He even has his hand in his pocket.

"Hi. Let's get going." I keep my face blank as I lead the way to my place. We walk in silence, listening to our footsteps next to each other.

Once we make it to my flat's building, I go up the steps, stopping in front of my door and unlocking it.

We step inside, the flat looking warm with the sunlight entering through the windows. I lock my door and drop the keys on my kitchen counter.

"Your coat?" I reach my hands out. He throws his coat to me, the heaviness of it making me stumble. I scowl but hang it anyway.

"Head to my room. Down the hallway to the right." I say as I grab a few supplies from my father's office.

"Want me in your bed already?" He calls out once he's inside. I hear a yelp.

I run to my room. "Descamps, are you okay?" I ask worriedly. He stares at George.

"What is that?" He points to George, who's currently walking toward me. I bend down and pet him, planting a kiss on his head.

"This is George." I carry George and craddle him like a baby. I walk towards Descamps with the furball in my arms. I rock him slowly.

"You can touch him if you want. He doesn't bite." I smile at the orange cat, then look up at Descamps. He's staring at me with the most soft look I've seen him wear. My heart thumps in my chest.

He clears his throat, hand going up shakily to pet George. George purrs when Descamps pets him. There's now a smile on Descamps face, as warm as his stare.

I bite my lip at the proximity. I memorise as much as I can about him.

The way he was breathing, like he was on a bed so soft he could sink into it. The way he smelt like faded cigarette smoke and expensive cologne. The way his bones moved under his skin as he bent over to take a closer look at George. The number of times he's blinked, the number of times he's laughed under his breath.

I dive deeper into my trance as he looks up at me. The way he stared now is so different from the way he did all those times before. Like we knew something that we haven't acknowledged yet. Or chose not to.

Something falls in the kitchen, and we snap back to reality. My face warms up, the lighting from the windows making it clearer.

Descamps walks away from me, clearing his throat again. "The cat's ugly." This makes me snap my head to his direction.

"What did you just say?" My brows furrow, defensive of the cat sleeping in my arms.

He rolls his eye. "Nothing. Let's get the project started, I guess." I glare at him for a couple more seconds, then I gently place George down on the bed, excusing myself to get more stuff from my father's office.

When I'm halfway to my room, I hear whispering. I peek at the slit on my door, wondering what was happening behind it.

Descamps is petting George, whispering words as if he's hushing a baby to sleep.

My aura softens, and my heart bursts with admiration. I accidentally drop something and curse to myself. Descamps hears the thud on the floor and pushes himself away from George. George continues to sleep.

I open the door then close it gently. "Let's get started."

××《☆》××

"Do you have suggestions?" I ask Descamps. He doesn't answer, his head turned to the side. I sigh.

Before I could say anything, he talks. "What's that?" He nods to the book on my shelf. It was a copy of the story of Achilles and Patroclus, with a notebook strapped on the front.

"It's nothing important." I shake my head. He purses his lips in thought.

"Can I see it?" His question catches me off guard, his head finally turning to look at me. No one's ever showed interest in my books or notes. I stay quiet, then after a while, I nod.

He gets up from the bed and grabs the book. He takes the string that attaches the notebook to the copy off. He scans the back of the book and hums.

"We can base the project off of this, if you don't mind." He holds up the paperback and the notebook. I'm stunned in my place.

"It's really not that interesting-"

"It must be if you had a whole notebook dedicated to it." There isn't even a teasing tone when he said that. He meant it genuinely.

"Fine." I sigh, grabbing the notebook from his grasp.

"Good." "Great." "Amazing." "Piss off." "Whatever."

"Mind if you read it to me?" He says. "I have a feeling I'll understand better when you say it, since it's your work."

I nod, hesitantly. I opened the first page of my notebook. Most of the stuff I've written in it is a summary and a review of the book.

He leans back on my pillows. I let him. I started to read.

"Patroclus was a young prince, exiled from his kingdom for accidentally killing a boy, and was taken in by their neighbouring king, King Peleus."

George purrs as I pet him. I shift to a more comfortable sitting position. Descamps' eyes are on me.

"When Patroclus first saw Achilles, it was in a competition run by Patroclus' father. He described Achilles as if he was looking at a painting made with precision and grace." I flip the page. George walks over to Descamps' lap. I huff, ignoring it.

"When they met and officially talked, Patroclus thought he'd hated Achilles. Achilles and his beauty, his speed, his perfection. In the years that pass, they grow to be attached to the other." George meows. The meow that indicates he wants petting.

I pause my reading, and Descamps looks at me confused. "Why'd you stop?"

"George wants pets." Descamps makes an 'oh' sound and pets George. He meows again.

"Maybe he wants you." Descamps says, petting the fur baby on his lap. I sigh and lean in close to pet George. With the uncomfortable position, I shift to sit beside Descamps on the bed. I clear my throat and pet George. I continue to read.

"They knew everything about each other. What they'd prefer, like how I like the rain too much to cover it with an umbrella, but know I'll get sick without it. That's how the two worked. They knew every detail, every routine, every habit, every movement. A love you'd have to fight the gods for."

A page is flipped, smoothing out of paper echoes in the room.

"Achilles and Patroclus loved each other with every inch of their heart and soul. Quoting the book, Patroclus states, 'He is half my soul, as the poets say'. Along with the famous paragraph." My eyes switch to the next page.

Descamps shifts in his place, leaning back on the pillows, looking at the pages where I'm reading off of. I start to relax, leaning back, too. George purrs.

"I could recognise him by touch alone, by smell; I would know him blind, by the way his breaths came and his feet struck the earth. I would know him in death, at the end of the world."

I take a glance at Descamps, and he's already looking at me. George snores in his sleep, making the aura of the room warmer. More comfortable.

His eye dropped to my lips, and I could've sworn I was hearing a heartbeat as fast as the wind at fall. I glance at his, pink and soft, like a cushion ready for rest.

When we lean in, slowly, too slow, my heart drops as he pulls away and stretches. I furrow my eyebrows, a dread of realisation. He's been toying with me. I close my notebook and gather my things.

"Where are you off to?" He asks. I don't answer him.

"Hey," He grabs my arm. I take it back from him. "What's wrong with you?"

"Nothing." I say coldly. "I'll finish this project myself."

"What? No. This is a group project remember?"

"I can't keep doing this. You're too hard to work with." I stack the books and materials in my arms.

"We haven't even gotten anything done yet." He flops his hands in the air.

"Exactly. You're too distracting."

"What did I do? I've been quiet the whole time."

"Yeah, well, that's the problem. You're too quiet. You aren't suggesting things."

"What does that have to do with anything?" He raises his voice.

"Just shut up, okay? Just leave. I told you I'll finish the project by myself." I get up from the bed, heading to my father's office.

"But I don't get why you're suddenly mad!" He stands up, following me.

"You don't have to know. Just leave me alone, okay?"

"Fucking fine. You're being too stubborn anyways. Do all the work. Getting pissed off for no fucking reason." He grabs his coat from the rack, putting it on. He doesn't even glance at me, opening and shutting the door with a loud slam.

I even out my breathing. It was going fine. Then I think to myself, what was? Me and Descamps, going fine? I laugh at the thought. I hated that boy. I hated him with my whole heart. My mind travels to the notes I was just reading.

Patroclus had thought he hated Achilles in the start, too. I shake the thought out of my head, slipping against the wall to sit on the floor, knees to my chest.

I hear tapping on the floor boards. I look to my side to see George, meowing softly. I take a deep breath in, then reach my hand out to pet him.

I hate him. And I know I do. He lingers in my mind like a fog in the mountains. The way his aura had softened, his smile, his warmth. I hated the thought of him, but then he smiled, and like Achilles, his face was like the sun.

××《☆》××

Night comes, and I lay in my bed, windows slightly open for the wind to come through. I'm restless, not getting a blink of sleep. I'm halfway through the project already. If Descamps had helped, it'd take longer, I think to myself, trying to still feel angry.

I don't feel angry at all anymore. There's a sort of regret in me for pushing him away. But at the same time, it's what he deserved. We had leaned in, and I didn't even know what I was expecting. I should've expected him to pull away, but what was he going to do in the first place?

Was he going to whisper in my ear? If so, what would he whisper to me? Was he going to say something about how I write, how I speak? A thought so blurry pops up in my head, and I brush it off. But it felt warm, so safe, so soft. There was a scent stuck in my head as I reminisced on the thought, trying to figure out what I was thinking.

I fall asleep in the process, dreaming about the thought instead. Limbs touching, bending, adjusting. I taste cigarettes and strawberries. I smell smoke and expensive perfume. I feel something soft against my lips, hands cupping my face, my neck, my head, and my waist.

He felt warm, tall, and heavy against me. I hold onto the dream, relaxing.

××《☆》××

I wake up, sweat coating my skin. George sits on the window sill, the sun making him shine like gold. I sit up and stretch. I get off my bed and head to my bathroom.

My hair is messy, and I have a bit of dried drool on the corner of my mouth. I wash my face to give myself some energy. I take my clothes off lazily, tying my hair up and getting inside my shower.

Once I finish, I comb and fix my hair, head to the kitchen for a quick breakfast, grab my things for school, including the unfinished project, and head to the front door.

A stack of paper tied with string greets me. I furrow my eyebrows. There's no note. I squat down and pick it up. I instantly know who it's from.

It's an essay about Achilles and Patroclus, detailed and opinionated. Written on the last piece of paper, sitting at the bottom of the stack, it reads, "I bought a copy. Finished it for you."

I stood still, processing the words, flipping through the papers to double check if they're authentic. I let out a scoff of surprise. My head snaps to a nearby clock. I'm going to be late if I don't start walking now.

My feet carry me to the front gates of Voltaire, the familiar faces and light chatter calming me. I spot Simone and Michèle, and I make my way to them.

××《☆》××

Rain starts to fall. The rain always brought me comfort. The different sounds it made when hitting different objects, the way it sways with the wind, the smell it gives the grass after.

I lag behind Simone and Michèle as they make their way to the field. I look for my satchel, then remember I'd forgotten my umbrella. I curse to myself, finding the satchel. It felt heavier than usual. I look inside, then see a clear umbrella. I open it and twist it around, gaping in awe. There's a note in the bag. I open to read it.

"Don't get sick from what you love." The note said.

There's only one person I've told about my love for rain.

I head outside, hiding my red face once I see a drenched one-eyed boy. I smile to Simone and Michèle, spotting them seated on a bench. I glance behind me as I sit down, finding an eye already looking at me with a small smile. His smile drops, and he looks away when I catch him. I purse my lips.

We watch the match, getting my mind off of the boy with ash brown hair. Once the match finishes, we all make our way home. I look up, seeing the rain pattering against the clear umbrella. I smile, watching the water droplets slip off the plastic, hearing the pattering of rain.

××《☆》××

The next day, I repeat my routine. I thoroughly read through Descamps' essay, rewritting it to fit in with mine. I should be thankful, and I am, but Descamps is making my head hurt with the way he acts. I walked to school, going subject after subject, until our presentation finally came.

Earlier, I'd slipped him the script, tucking it in his bag. I hope silently that he's memorised it.

Annick and Pichon are presenting in front of the class. I smiled softly, impressed by the presentation, and refreshed with the dynamic of the two. If only things had gone differently with Descamps, we could've been good friends. But we aren't. I don't think we ever will.

Once they finish, our teacher calls me and Descamps to the front. My anxiousness radiates off my body. Simone and Michèle give me a reassuring look. I nod at them slightly.

My eyes meet Descamps, and we're standing at the front of the class. They're quiet, and my eyes scan all of them. Surprisingly, Descamps starts.

"Me and Pardine are going to present the story of Achilles and Patroclus and the debate of their relationship; romantic or platonic?" Descamps looks at me, his hand hovering at the small of my back for support.

I start, and faster than I thought, I finish the presentation. The room claps, as they do with the others. I glance at Descamps but see him already walking back to his seat. My smile dropped slowly, remembering I was still on his bad side, and vice versa.

I walk back to my seat quietly. I don't even hear the score because my mind is too occupied with the thought of him. Would we stay angry at eachother always? At the same time, it shouldn't matter. I hate him. Right?

I shake my head. I hate him, surely. I should. I dig deep in my head for a reason. Bullying Pichon and Michèle, toying with my feelings (feelings I'm not aware whether it's good or bad), the way he acts, and smells, and feels when he's near.

I fucking hate him. I really do. I hate him, I repeat in my head. I hate him, I hate him, I hate him.

Then, like earlier, something inside me knows I don't mean it.

At the end of the day, I make peace with solitude. My mind wanders, and I notice that every time it does, they always end up with the face of a one-eyed boy.

Sure, Descamps gave me a finished essay for our project, and sure, he gave me an umbrella that was clear so I could see the rain. So what? I still hate him. Maybe just a little less now.

××《☆》××

End- Chapter three: He is half my soul, as the poets say.

Next- Chapter four: Flashy Magazines

××《☆》××

End of chapter three. Rollercoaster of emotions this one. It's a bit shorter than usual because i took out a bunch of the scenes in the series to focus on the emotions of reader and hopefully u guys get what im trying to give. Thanks for reading, requests r open, and see u next chapter!!!

[astraystayyh]

You and I

In which you wrongly lash out at Hyunjin and have to mend it back. Human character who makes mistakes and apologizes for them.

You've always envied the people who seek others' warmth when they are feeling down. They seem to become almost translucent, allowing their sadness to seep away from them as their loved one comforts them- as their words and touch wrap around them, leaving no room for sadness or anger to exist anymore.

You, however, are quite the opposite.

Whenever an emotion overwhelms you, you instantly withdraw yourself, refusing for anyone to approach you. You can't let anyone touch you or talk to you, not when the feel of your clothes against your skin irritates you, and you swear you can hear the sound of each blood droplet rushing through your veins, unbearably loud.

Hyunjin doesn't know this.

How could he know? How do you tell someone you've been dating for one month that something as simple as regulating your emotions drains you? That you need to hide, for a couple of hours, sometimes days, just to feel a semblance of normalcy again.

So, you kept it hidden, trying your best to still your feelings; akin to the surface of an undisturbed river. It was easy to do so when being with Hyunjin brought you immense joy. It almost lulled you into thinking that you'd stay this way forever- happy, content. But you are human, and you can't escape the very essence of it- emotions in their rawest form.

You wish you could have told him- that you'd prefer being alone and that you'd talk to him when you're feeling well again. But it isn't time for regrets now. Not when the thoughts in your head swirl chaotically, making the world around you blur. You're overwhelmed, by your studies and a voice in your head that never truly quits down. And you can feel Hyunjin looking at you from the corner of your eye.

He's been worried about you all night, asking you if you were okay and if there was something he could do to help. But every question seemed to drive you over the edge, pushing you closer and closer to the brink of exploding.

"Baby, are you sure there is nothing I can do?" he asks for the umpteenth time, placing a hand on your shoulder. His concern is evident, stemming from a genuine place of care. And you want to slap a hand on your mouth to stop the words from tumbling out, but you don't.

"You know what I need Hyunjin? For you to leave me alone. Is that so hard to understand for you?" you question, looking straight ahead. You sense him physically recoil at your words, hand swiftly retracting back near his side. "I already told you what to do, and you're just making it worse. I can't deal with this right now."

A low chuckle emanates from him, it sounds cold and distant- nothing like you've ever heard from Hyunjin.

"Deal with this? You mean, deal with me?" he stands up abruptly, hand running angrily through his hair. "You know what? You've made it abundantly clear what you needed from me. I'm just fucking stupid for being worried." He grabs his jacket, as his words pierce you like a bow shot by Achilles himself.

Really now? You brought this on yourself and now you're feeling sad? Did you expect him to apologize, beg for you? The voice in your head taunts you and your own gets caught in your throat. 'Im sorry, stay, I didn't mean to lash out' You want to plead, but you remain silent as if someone's robbed you of your ability to speak.

"I'm sorry for making it worse for you, you don't have to worry about it ever again," he sounds angry, but you can sense the underlying sadness in his words. Your eyes meet his and the look on his face tears you apart. You've never seen him so... stricken, so severely affected; by your own doing none the less.

Hyunjin slams the door behind him, as an ugly sob escapes your lips. You've hurt him, badly, you aren't sure how to fix it when you can't even fix yourself.

....

Two days have passed. Forty-eight hours of trying to sort out your thoughts, only to have them tangled even further. The reason why you were overwhelmed in the first place fades into the back of your mind. The only thing you could think of was Hyunjin.

He hadn't called or texted, not that you expected him to. He said you didn't have to worry about it anymore, so he's giving you space, lots of space at that. Isn't that what you wanted? It was, but not like this. Not at the expense of hurting him.

You look absolutely disheveled as you knock on Hyunjin's door. It's 5:47 pm, an odd time for reconciliation, at least that's what you hope will happen as Hyunjin opens the door.

He's seemingly taken aback at the sight of you. His eyes swiftly narrow, and you take an unconscious step back at the animosity in his gaze. "What do you want?"

"Can we talk, please?"

Hyunjin scrutinizes you for a moment, his expression guarded. He looks far better than you, but there are newfound dark circles under his eyes. You hope you aren't the cause behind him.

"Come in," he steps away and you enter, uncertainty hanging over the both of you like a heavy fog.

Hyunjin settles on the couch but you remain standing, pacing back and forth as you try to organize your thoughts. Everything you wanted to say seemingly vanished you when you needed it most.

"Sit down. You're making me dizzy," he finally says, rubbing his eyes tiredly. You oblige quickly, heels now tapping furiously on the ground.

"Would you like some water?" he asks after a while, and there is a timid softness in his words, one you clung to so you'd be able to breathe again.

"No, thank you." You lick your lips nervously. "Hyunjin, I'm sorry. I shouldn't have talked to you that way. I was mean and rude and I understand that I had hurt you. But it wasn't my intention. It's never ever my intention to hurt you. I care about you too much for that."

"People you care about shouldn't make things worse for you," he points out, refusing to meet your gaze.

"You aren't... I mean, it's not you. It's me."

"Really?" he arches an eyebrow at the stereotypical sentence and you groan, frustrated at your inability to articulate your regret properly.

"Look, I got overwhelmed and when I'm like this, I need to stay alone. It has nothing to do with you, or how I feel for you. And I feel for you a lot, and I'm so scared I'll lose you and I can't seem to speak well-" tears trail down your cheek and you wipe them away angrily. You brought this on yourself, you shouldn't cry on top of it.

"I'm so sorry, immensely sorry, Hyunjin. if you still want me, I promise you I will never do this again. I won't lash out at you, you don't deserve that and it was uncalled for. I'm really sorry."

His silence is deafening as you nervously pick at your cuticles, scratching them over and over in your anxiousness. Why isn't he saying anything?

"Okay, um..." you chuckle nervously, as the bulge in your throat threatens to swallow you whole. "I'll let you think of it. I'm so sorry again. And I'm sorry for coming before asking you if you were busy. I'm sorry to bother you and I'm- I'm sorry I'm this way." You hurriedly stand up, heading towards the door when a warm hand wraps around your wrist, stopping you in your tracks.

Hyunjin's arms circle your waist, his chin resting on your shoulder, anchoring you in place.

"When I'm sad or angry, being near you makes me feel better. It really does. I thought I could do the same for you. That's why I insisted on staying. But I shouldn't have. You and I are different, doesn't mean it's bad," he mumbles onto your neck, tightening his hold on you.

"You've hurt me a lot, but I forgive you because I want us to do better next time. No yelling. No harsh words, okay?"

"Okay. I'll do better. I'm so sorry. So sorry, Hyunjin, you have no idea."

"It's okay. We're good now."

"Really?" you turn around, clutching his arms tightly. "I'm so sorry."

"I forgive you, stop apologizing," he giggles softly, wiping away the tears trailing down your face.

"I'm sorry, I swear I won't do it again," you apologize again, burying your face in his chest. your tears dampen his shirt but you can't move away. Not that you could in the first place, since his hold on you only tightens further.

"I believe you. Stop crying, please."

"Okay, I'm sorry. God, I'm sorry for saying sorry."

"Shh, baby. No more crying. I missed you," Hyunjin admits softly, placing a gentle kiss on the top of your head.

"I missed you so much more. More than you know."

"Maybe we should start telling each other exactly how much, hm? Not leave it up to imagination."

"Okay, I will. I want to work on this with you. If you want."

"I want to. Couldn't sleep without you."

"I'm so sorry," it slips from your mouth before you can stop it, guilt overflowing from you in waves.

"I thought I told you to stop apologizing, hm?" he questions as he picks you up and spins you around, as a laugh escapes your lips, morphing into full-blown giggles. It is only when a genuine smile graces your lips that Hyunjin puts you down once again.

[shen-mu]

You want the acclaim, the mother of mothers (it's not worth it, Achilles) More poignant than fame or the taste of another (don't listen, Achilles) But be real and just jump, you dense motherfucker (you're worth more, Achilles) You will not be more than a rat in the gutter (so much more than a rat) You want my opinion, my opinion you've got (no one asked your opinion) You asked for my counsel, I gave you my thoughts (no one asked for your thoughts) Be done with this now and jump off the roof (be done with this now and get off the roof) Can you hear me, Achilles? I'm talking to you 2b2t!Fit x ghost!Pac x Madagio

[mysticmeadowscamp]

can you hear me Achilles? I'm talking to you

[howlingday]

(demi- arkos au) pyrrha makes the mistake of asking her mother how to attract boys.

The Virgin Goddess is not nearly as helpful as you'd think.

secondary story: jaune has two moms, why does he exist? like physically speaking? (jaune takes psychic damage as his goddess mother explains in detail all the advantages of shapeshifting)

II

"Pyrrha! It's so good to hear from you!"

"Hi, Mom." Pyrrha smiled through the video feed. "Um, is mamá there?"

"And if I am?" The goddess said clearly from out of view. "Would you prefer I not be here?"

"No, no, I don't mind! I just..." She sighed. "I have a question, and I'm afraid of the answer you'll give."

"Oh no..." Her mortal mother gave a soft groan.

"If this is in regards to courting, then I'm afraid I will be of little help." Her other mother said. "If this were in regard to the tournament approaching, then perhaps I would be of better service."

"So you don't have any advice at all?"

"I never said that. I have brought kingdoms to their knees and risen children to tyrants. If there is a way within my knowledge, then I will help you with what I know."

"Okay." Pyrrha took a deep breath. "So, there's this boy-"

"No."

"N-No?"

"No." Athena repeated, this time in a more commanding voice. "Men are fools who would destroy everything they touch in service of their own hubris. You would only benefit yourself by abstaining from them altogether."

"All men or all mortals?" Pyrrha's eyes glanced to her mamá, who gave a gulp. Pyrrha could feel a migraine grow, as though her brain were trying to escape from her skull. It was dull, but the message was clear. 'Don't question the will of Athena'. "He's... different..."

"As was Heracles. And Odysseus. And Paris, and Perseus, and Achilles-"

"I am not those people, mother."

"No, but I'm Jaune is very much the same as them in one way or another." Pyrrha became quiet. "Oh, yes, child of mine. I know the name of this man you seek. And he will bring you naught but ruin."

Pyrrha became silent, her lips pursed. She wanted to yell, though it would do no good. Throwing a public tantrum never solved anything for anyone, as her mother taught her. But it would feel so good, wouldn't it?

"Is that his name?" Mamá asked, hoping to ease the tension. "Jaune?"

"Are you talking about me?" Pyrrha whirled around to find her team leader walking up to her, his hood up and his sunglasses on.

"Jaune!" She looked to her mother, then looked to him. She waved him over and his face came into view of the screen. "Jaune, this is my mamá, Carnelia."

"Hello there~!" She greeted.

"Hullo, Misses Nikos~!" He waved to her. "I can see where Pyrrha gets her beauty from."

Pyrrha flushed.

Misses Nikos giggled.

"Oh..." Another voice growled. "You..."

"Uh, hi? Is that your... Dad?"

"Jaune, this is... my other mother."

"Oh, nice to meet you, too, Misses Nikos!" Jaune smiled to the empty space. "Uh, my name is Jaune, Jaune Arc. Short, sweet, and rolls off the tongue. The ladies love it!"

Pyrrha giggled with Carnelia.

"Moulári pou flertárei." Athena grumbled.

"Wait, what was that about a donkey?" Jaune blinked. Suddenly, his scroll buzzed. Checking it, he hopped away. "Oh, sorry to cut this short! I gotta go. It was nice meeting you~!" Jaune turned and ran for the door. "See ya later, Pyr!"

"Uh, l-later?" Pyrrha waved. She looked to her mothers, Athena now in view. "So... That was Jaune."

"He seems nice." Mamá said.

"Pyrrha..." For the first time ever, her mother paused before speaking. "Focus on you studies for now. You are here to fight, not to flirt."

Pyrrha gave a nod. "Yes, Mother."

--------------------------------------------------

"Hey, Mom?"

"Yes, Jaune?"

"I was wondering... Do I have a dad?"

The kitchen was quiet. His mother, Iva, clenched her jaw at the stove while Aphrodite, his biological mother, hummed while carving an apple. The family of nine were having stew with an apple pie for dessert. Setting the knife down, Aphrodite looked to her son with glistening eyes.

"No." She smiled.

"No?"

"No." She picked up the knife again and began slicing the apple into halves.

"What about David?" Jaune asked. The huntsman gone and away from home often was the father of seven children in the Arc family. All girls. His only son was not truly his to claim, if he so chose to do.

Aphrodite giggled. "No, not him, either."

"Then... Who is my dad?"

"I am." She set the knife aside and began placing the slices into the pie crust. "You are my son, and I am your mother."

"So, I don't have dad?"

"Y-You do have a father," Iva said, earning a quirked brow from Aphrodite, "just... not one biologically."

"I... I don't understand." Jaune blinked.

"I'll explain everything when you're older." Aphrodite chirped.

"Mom, I'm 17."

"When you're older, honey."

[theotherbuckley]

Evan 'Buck' Buckley - Achilles Come Down by Gang of Youths (Part 3 v2)

You want the acclaim, the mother of mothers (it's not worth it, Achilles) More poignant than fame or the taste of another (don't listen, Achilles) But be real and just jump, you dense motherfucker (you're worth more, Achilles) You will not be more than a rat in the gutter (so much more than a rat) You want my opinion, my opinion you've got (no one asked your opinion) You asked for my counsel, I gave you my thoughts (no one asked for your thoughts) Be done with this now and jump off the roof (be done with this now and get off the roof) Can you hear me, Achilles? I'm talking to you I'm talking to you I'm talking to you I'm talking to you Achilles, come down Achilles, come down

Bobby - Part 1 here Eddie - Part 2 here Buck - Part 3 v1 here Madney - coming tomorrow

[cftragedy]

you think this is something you can control, something you can twist up and hide away like everything else. maybe in some ways it is. some part of you is aware that every time you try to bury things down deep, they burn brighter when they break through. but for now, you can hold off. for now, you can lie.

[starfanatic]

Personality Headcanons

(Since the greek male love interests have little to none to go off of)

HYACINTHUS: I think people believe that he acts like very sweet and gentle, but I think that doesn't make a lot of sense for Hyacinthus and it's kind of a easy basic answer. Hyacinthus, to me, seems like more of a military type person. I mean, he's in SPARTA, and everybody knows how Sparta acts like. I'm not saying he can't be a nice person, but I think there is far more to him. He's not necessarily delicate in my opinion, he's very strong and very competitive. He can be protective, even over Apollo, and a amazing fighter. I think that he liked Apollo so much because he didn't have to worry about anything around him. He can be stressfree, and he loved that. I think he was also a direct person with the way he spoke. Essentially the way Patroclus acted like in the Iliad, because I believe they kind of parallel one another, like Achilles parallels Apollo in some ways.

NERITES: Nerites is a fun one, actually. It took a while for me to make up a personality because of what little we have of him. We know Aphrodite and Poseidon both love him, we know that he's Amphitrite's little brother, and we know he's extraordinarily beautiful. Also that he's Poseidon's charioteer. I also heard that he was VERY VERY fast to the point he even challenged Helios (or maybe he didn't and Helios was just jealous tbh). So I'm thinking that maybe he's a daredevil of sorts? Very energetic and very playful kind of like the typical little brother. He's a ride-or-die type of person and doesn't like staying in one place. Also, maybe he can be a little bit bratty at times, giving Poseidon a little bit of sass certain times (Poseidon is way more unbothered then people would typically think). Also I think Nerites is very much aware of HOW pretty he is and uses his pretty privelege to get away with pranks and stuff. I mean how is Poseidon supposed to punish him with those pretty doe eyes? Come on!

Ganymede: He's actually the more simpler ones. He's the only one that I can genuinely see as gentle and delicate. I think he was probably pampered a lot due to his immense beauty, so kind of the opposite of Hyacinthus. When he first came to Olympus I think he was genuinely frightened and Zeus had to comfort him. (Cute little headcanon that he met Nerites and felt a bit more comfortable due to Nerites' company). Even though we all know what PROBABLY happened based on Zeus' behavior, I like to think that Zeus was very patient with Ganymede and refused to touch him until Ganymede initiated first. I think Ganymede also kind of doesn't realize how much privilege he has? He's a bit spoiled but doesn't quite realize it? He knows he's pretty but he doesn't exactly understand HOW pretty he is, and he also doesn't understand how far Zeus would go for him. He's not necessarily insecure, just completely unaware and not too out of touch.

Adonis: Adonis is literally the insane dude who you speak to who constantly talks about and is fascinated by DEATH or the UNIVERSE or how the world is going to collapse any second. If Adonis spoke to the average joe, they would probably only listen because of how beautiful Adonis is. Adonis realizes he's very beautiful, but it's extremely effortless. I think Aphrodite kind of likes that he doesn't try so hard, and it just comes for him. Adonis doesn't like special treatment for his looks either (but he definitely gets it anyway). Adonis is incredibly fearless when it comes to death, and gets excited when he almost dies. Adonis has a great singing voice but will ONLY sing around people he feels deserve it. Not even out of arrogance, but because he only wants people he loves and trusts to hear it.

[ph4os]

I hate it when pagans say they hate "Epic: The Musical" and any other adaptation of mythology because they consider it blasphemous/offensive. I understand that they can be considered as such because they are written and produced mainly by non-pagans but in some cases we have to be objective, some are real works of art and, more importantly, we must not forget that in ancient Greece (when the citizens of the poleis were obliged to practice religion) staging myths was the order of the day. So no, it's not offensive and no, it's not blasphemous, maybe you may not like them for your own personal taste but if you go against certain readjustments just to be alternative you're not cool and you're not respecting the Gods better than others do. I'm the first one that doesn't like a lot of retelling, especially when it comes to books, but frankly we should remember that the Gods are not the same entities as the myths. The only purpose of myths is to reflect the behaviors of man and teach what is right and what is not (according to the customs and customs of ancient Greece of course). I understand that some representations do not reflect the way we perceive the Gods but unfortunately (or fortunately) we can't do anything about it. If, for example, you don't like Hera is rapresented in "Blood Of Zeus", don't watch it but you can't say that, if another pagan likes it, then they're doing something wrong. According to this reasoning we should erase all Greek and Roman mythology because "x deity would never do such a thing!!!" You're right, they wouldn't, but the person who wrote x myth needed to teach a certain behavior and the person who wrote x readjustments maybe wanted to talk about a certain topic and using greek myths seemed to them the best way to do that. I'm not saying it's respectful, I'm not saying it's okay for non-pagans to use our religion to do their comforts, but I'm saying we shouldn't start judging what other pagans hear/read/watch. I hate "the song of Achilles" but because I can't stand mythologically accurate Achilles and that book it's not mythological accurate, if there's a pagan who follows the cult of heroes and worships him and reads that book and likes it, I'm certainly not going to insult that person. I'm a devotee of Apollo, and I personally love Rick Riordan's trilogy about Him, and if someone came to tell me that I don't have to like it because the God doesn't like it, I would honestly tell them to shut the fuck up.

[streets-in-paradise]

His Weakness - Achilles x (Fem)Reader

Troy (2004) Oneshot

Warnings: Injury, brief description of healing practice.

Summary: Achilles is taking care of you after you injured your heel and the situation iniciates a talk on the legend about his only weakness.

Note: For the medical part, i tried to make it as accurate to the period as possible through what i remember of the descriptions of medicine found in the iliad.

Tags: @zoegarfield

Racing across the landscape of the myrmidons was so much fun, but it could be dangerous for reckless racers that didn't know the grounds as well. Phtia was a rocky territory, but you were so used to run carefreely on your old homeland that you didn't entirely acknowledged the difference. The result was a fall that put end to the amusement as Achilles rushed in aid of you before Patroclus could claim the victory. He felt very bad for challenging you despite the wise advice of his cousin, but you didn't allow the sweet lad to take any guilt.

Pain aside, being carried back by your beloved hero felt very nice. He held you in his arms to ease the scare of the fall and although you tried to play tough for him, it was evident that you had trouble with your left foot and he didn't let you take one more step.

Laying on his bed for further inspection later revealed that the source of stronger pain was a badly bruised heel hurting you whenever you tried to stand up. Used to see way worse in the wounded from battle, he probably knew it was something you would recover from giving healing time to the injury. With proper rest, you would be alright in a week. However, in the meantime you would be in pain and very bored, so he wanted to be the one in charge of making you feel better.

Achilles loved you too much to stand your great discomfort without trying every measures he had available to help to go through it. Keeping you company, playing the lyre to help you relax, or telling you stories while staying in bed with you so you would fall asleep to the sound of his voice and the heat of his body.

Despite you would insist in wanting to do it yourself, he allways ended up applying the wet cloth on the wound and giving you the calming drugs to ease the painfull inflamation. The lovefull respect for your temporary fragility would have shocked anyone among the people who didn't know him for real. Those who used to see him as a fighter beast wouldn't believe their eyes regarding his caregiver performance. His hands knew how to inflict and calm pain giving death or caresses with the same amount of skill.

After finishing the task, he was carefully drying your skin when an ironically cute thought occured to you that you simply couldn't keep to yourself.

" Can you believe that, from all the chances for damage, I had to hurt my heel? " You commented to him. " Now we share a weakness, no one can deny we are meant to be. "

Achilles chuckled and your glances briefly meet.

" Where did you got that from? Didn't you hear they call me the swift-footed? You are mine, but we aren't bonded by the heel. "

" There is a local legend that the myrmidons whisper to each other, a secret they believe to be protecting. " You recalled in a mysterious tone. " Eudorus told me about it, they say that when you were a baby your mother inmersed you in the waters of the river Styx and that made your skin invulnerable to the wounds of bronze. Given that she was supposedly holding you by the heel, this is the only spot of your body that remains mortal and your preference for closed footwear has fed that rumour. "

He should have guessed that it was going to be a matter of time untill you would bring that up.

" Each city you go, they have made up a different idea of what may kill me. " He answered in a mock. " I'm like the minotaur, or the hydra. The fear I inspire forces people to invent mystical ways of feeling in control of their fright. They all believe they have found my weak spot, but nobody trully knows of my true human weakness. "

" Can you please stop comparing yourself to monsters?" You interrupted him. " You frightening, beautifull man. In your hands I feel blessed even in sickness. "

Still delicately holding your exposed leg, he placed a soft kiss in the front of your ankle.

" I'm so weak for you … Can't you tell? " He purred, teasing you. " The messengers of Agamemnon could come ríght now asking me to follow them to war, and I wouldn't leave your side not even if I would be told to be paid with lands and a share of the treasure as big as his. No fighting untill you would be back on your feet, nothing can get me away from you when i know you need me. "

He made you giggle in pure enjoyment of his love.

" Very beautifull, but not compelling for the legends. " You sweetly corrected. " When people invent a hero, they wouldn't expect him to list his lady as his mythical weakness. It's not attractive in symbolic terms. "

Achilles wasn't very concerned about the observation.

" That's why they will never guess it. "

With that, he resumed his playfull kissing in a road going up over the skin of your leg. You could tell he guessed you were starting to feel better, or otherwise he wouldn't have seeked for that sort of intimacy so suddenly.

[reinedeslys-central]

more!! again!! for the nico after blood of olympus fic!! actually I thought of this while writing the last one but I just finished it.

His elbows buckle and he lets himself fall into Will, snorting at his theatrical groan under the weight. They lay there for a second until Will shoves him gently, and Nico lets him manoeuvre them into a more comfortable position.

"Hi," he whispers, moving a curl away from his cheek. The greenish tint of the loft window casts a weird shadow over Will's face.

"Hey yourself," Will murmurs back, winking.

Nico rolls his eyes. "You look like Apollo when you do that. Please stop." Will squawks in protest.

"I do not! Also, since when do you remember what Apollo looks like? Actually, no, don't answer that, you can't bring up my dad while we're in bed, Nico, why would you do this to me?"

Now it's Nico's turn to sputter and whack Will in the chest - getting another dramatic oof and a laugh in return - before turning around to face Hazel's bed. He's not sure when he'll ever be able to sleep facing the wall. Will can't do it either.

As Will's arms curl around his waist and draw him back against him, just like they did back in the infirmary that one day, he thinks maybe he'd be okay trying that with him sometime. One day, in a house with gates, no longer wary of monsters.

Will noses the back of his neck, causing him to twitch. "What is it?"

Will's answering smile presses through the rough cotton of his t-shirt. "Nothing, sunshine."

Nico frowns under the covers. "Hey, what do you think of houses with gates?" He whispers.

"Gates? Well, it'd be safer, I guess, but we'd lose the neighbours coming over -"

"As if you want to see random people at the door anyway. What if they're monsters?"

"Oh, come on, darlin', I'm from Austin. Of course I gotta keep space for the neighbours to come knocking."

"…Fences? Actually, hey, why'd you assume I was talking about us? Obviously - Obviously I was talking about random. Random houses. For architecture reasons."

Will muffles his laugh into the back of his neck, again. "Oh, my bad. And I'm only here because you ripped a stitch on the lava wall yesterday."

Nico feels his ears warm.

"Shut up."

"I didn't say anything."

"..Still."

Will reels him in closer until his back hits his chest and he can press a soft peck to Nico's still-red ears. "I think a fence is a great idea, by the way. We could ask Hazel for help with some ward stones too, like you have in the cabin. Gotta make sure we've got at least one window and standing space in every direction, though, or at least in the east, because you know my dad would sulk if he didn't get to scream me awake in the morning."

Nico's blush gets worse.

"Now who's talking about your dad in bed?" He gives up on pretending. Will sees him through every time, anyway. "Also, shrines, obviously, and we need a spot to stargaze."

"Yeah, shrines, obviously. Maybe just yours, mine, and Lady Hestia's though, or else everyone else is gonna get pissy."

Nico barks out a laugh like it's shocked out of him. "Pissy? Don't let them hear you say that."

Will holds him tighter and settles against the pillows. "Sure thing, sunshine. Now can we sleep?"

"Yeah, yeah."

It's not long after that that Will's breath evens out behind him, his muscles untensing. Nico knows he's got a few minutes yet, so he thinks.

Today was…. good.

Today was nice. Normal, even. Just a day of camp schedules, working in the infirmary, an admittedly short campfire, and this. No monsters, and no mistakes. No deaths, but..

Unbidden, the moments in the infirmary come to mind. He thinks of helping Will scrub in for his one surgery of the day, a kid that had gotten parts of an arrow stuck in their leg a week ago and hadn't noticed til yesterday. He thinks of yesterday during capture-the-flag, stepping in and desperately trying to copy what he'd watched Will do, because Lydia was hanging crooked from a tree and there was no one else around but him-

He thinks of Patroclus tying the straps of Achilles' armour, watching his lover sleep peacefully. He thinks of what Connor had told him about at the campfire weeks ago, of Silena Beauregard taking on a drakon when Clarisse declared the Ares Cabin wouldn't be fighting.

He thinks he might understand.

Lydia wasn't the same (thank the gods), but if there was something to be done that only Will could do right, yet couldn't, and the only way Nico could take up his mantle would be to die trying - then, yeah. He'd do whatever it would take for these kids. To do what Will would do. He's gone to Tartarus already, hasn't he? At worst, he'd try his best and greet his father early if he failed to survive. Nico could even give Charon a tip on the way in for the hell of it, why not?

If there is a luxury that comes from being a child of Hades, after all, it is that dying is not the thing that scares him.

There's a brazier still lit outside the window. Its glow falls in slits across their bed.

Will grumbles, pushing his feet forward until their ankles are wound together. The sheets shift.

Nico smiles into the dark, into the chirping of crickets and the soft glow of the fireflies out the window, and falls asleep.

more for this fic:

scene 0 - prologue-ish scene 1 - the library of social awkwardness or here (or in my heart, 'kidney function is not a right, it's a privilege' lol)

general writing directory

also lmk if you want more lore. I am so down to talk about this fic + the worldbuilding ideas I have for it in the notes it is unreal