#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

[kourota]

what is orv if not a love letter to kdj?

[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

[marali-iin]

Sharpwolf (Antinous x Telemachus), is the peak of "Enemies to Lovers" BUT only before "Hold Them Down". HEAR ME OUT-

Yeah, I know Antinous beats the shit out of Telemachus in "Little Wolf" but THAT'S LITERALLY THE FRICKIN POINT. I know I've always said I hate enemies to lovers, but you know what I hate even more? BAD EXECUTED ENEMIES TO LOVERS. They're supposed to be ENEMIES, not rivals, which people often confuse. "But it's toxic-" TOXIC MY ASS THEY'RE LITERALLY THE TROPE. Enemies are supposed to hate each other, to want the other to suffer, to DIE, they have to be ruthless against each other, because they're supposed to have opposite views of something and be hostile because of it. Antinous and Telemachus are literally that trope

Now, if it's after "Hold Them Down" FUCK THAT, I DON'T WANT IT ANYMORE. I can accept attempted murder, but I draw the line at rape. I can forgive the first two thirds of the song, when Antinous plans to kill Telemachus and break his bones? Enemies at its peak. When Antinous plans to then rape Penelope? GET THAT AWAY FROM ME I'M GLAD THE DUDE IS NO LONGER ALIVE.

I'm slightly disappointed that they had to make the suitors literally rapists so they "look bad", they were shitty enough as they were, in the original Odyssey they never try to rape Penelope, and yeah I know it was to build anger, even I fell for it and I get so fuckin angry. But still, I think we as writers in general often fall for whenever trying to make a character be disliked immediately turn them into a rapist, I've fallen for it, some of my writer friends have fallen for it, I've seen it in books and fanfics. It's normal, I'm glad we collectively hate rapists, but it's still a cliche I'm not ready to accept.

And just to circle back to the original topic and finish this, Antinous and Telemachus have so much potential for enemies to lovers. Antinous simply wants the throne? Telemachus is right there, younger than Penelope and more naive, easier target to manipulate, enemies manipulate each other. Telemachus wants to kick all the suitors out of his home? Antinous is literally the leader of them, manipulate him. Imagine both of these scenarios at the same time, both trying to use the other for their own benefit. And that's the point of Enemies to Lovers, hate each other at first, wish for the other's downfall and slowly start warming up to each other, realizing the flaws of your own view and how they're not that bad. Add a redemption arc and we're good to go, the problem with rapists is that they have no redemption (except Deidamia from Song of Achilles, I'll eventually talk about that but just to make clear in this house we DON'T hate her. Suck it up) That's why I REFUSE to work with post "Hold Them Down" Antinous.

So yeah, that was my rant for today, take this as a lesson. I can really, reallyyyy hate a trope, but I'll always hate more a rapist and a badly executed trope. I have standards

[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!!!

[midnight-bay-if]

(NSFW Question) How would the RO’s act in a situation involving an aphrodisiac? Say Mc accidentally ate something that makes them extremely uncomfortable until they have sex, though the effects aren’t permanent or life-threatening. Would any of the RO’s be willing to help them out? Deep crushing but pre-relationship :3

(NSFW content warning. Not explicit, but very suggestive.)

S: As soon as they realise what your symptoms are demonstrating, S is very conflicted. They've read how unbearably uncomfortable the effects are, so they want to help. Not to mention the self-control it has already taken them to take it slow and court you properly, as you deserve. When S imagined falling into bed with you, it was after a romantic evening or bold love confession. It didn't involve the risk of rolling over after the deed with a deep regret.

In the end, they can't bring themselves to do it. They will stand guard, wait on you hand and foot, give you everything you desire... everything except them.

"I know you are strong enough to withstand this; should you feel the same after... perhaps we can talk."

Rain: They hesitate. In any other instance of you begging, they wouldn't. Absolutely not. They've been craving to see you like this for a long time. They've imagined countless ways to steal your breath; their imagination has kept them good company on many a lonely night. But it frightens them to believe you only ask out of necessity and not desire.

Still, they can't resist. They have ached for you much too long, and your heated gaze is enough to set their heart ablaze.

"Tell me how I can take it away. Breathe the word, and I am yours."

Taj: Taj realised their feelings were genuine only recently. In the middle of another verbal spar with you, they imagined your absence, and it hit them like a punch to the gut. They see you now, desperate and wanton, and fuck, do they ever want to give in. Had this happened before... when they thought you were nothing more than a chirping bird, they would have. No hesitation. It wouldn't be the first time they've rolled into bed with someone for the sake of fucking.

But now it matters. God, why does it have to matter?

"Ask me again when you're not blitzed out of your mind, Koel. I want to know when I'm making you beg, it's me your begging for."

N: All it takes is one heated gaze and whispered "please" for them to fall to their knees in front of you. They are no stranger to the effects of such a potent aphrodisiac, having fallen victim to such a ploy from their enemies. Except, they were locked into a dark room after, bound, left to rot. Why use pain to inflict torture when pleasure can be just as excruciating and lacks the mess?

They will satisfy you for as long as you desire. Then, they will don their mask that keeps them protected, smile, and leave. Feelings do not need to play a part. They cannot afford to expose themselves to you.

"Whisper your every desire, my dear; I want to hear everything."

Umbra: They can't stand it. They watch as you writhe and squirm before your eyes lock onto theirs, and you beg, "I need you". The words are their Achilles heel, and they fall to their knees like a devotee might pray at an altar.

"Tell me how."

Nothing can be worse than watching you struggle. If they can take it away, they will. There is not a single thing in this world they would not do for you.

[voidartisan]

Anyway. Survived another semester. So. Star Wars characters as things my friends, professors, and classmates have said (plus a few things i've overheard on campus). two for the price of one bc in spring I forgor

Echo: Fives! GO!

Fives: NO! It's a free country!

Fives: *starts singing Republic anthem*

Echo: you can't sing the national anthem and BE A COWARD!!!

Ahsoka: Maybe they just really wanted there to be a gay weasel

Barriss: Hello. We were just talking about how my grandma's dog has a foot fetish

Sabine, in a class discussing ancient Egyptian art: Okay, don't hate me for this question, but, in the movie The Mummy---

Anakin: I didn't hit him that hard!

Obi-Wan: YOU BROKE HIS NOSE.

Omega: How’d you get those washboard abs, grandma?

Rex: I'd never say anything like that to you on purpose. You're like a daughter to me.

Echo: Thank you

Kanan: I watched two squirrels fighting in the middle of the street this morning. Kinda gave me Hector and Achilles

Din Djarin: WHO IS THIS BABY?

Rex: WHO DID YOU MARRY????

Luke: OH! I got t-boned to this song! :D

Kanan: Thou art the bomb dot com

Hound, dreamily: I want my ashes tested for narcotics

Thorn: They got a dried llama fetus. From Bolivia

Thire: Not the llama fetus

Jesse: Do you eat the cherry pits?

Kix: No? I'm pretty sure those have cyanide in them.

Jesse: *slowly removes cherry pit from mouth*

Obi-Wan: You'd think that with my very high reading level I would have figured that out sooner

Ahsoka: I mean, Yoda's made it that long

Barriss: Okay, but he's filled with happiness and good thoughts. I'm filled with bitterness and ibuprofen.

Ahsoka: This is why we have repentance and insurance

Cody, speaking to a spider in the shower: First of all, you're a pervert

Wooley, awake at 1 am: Next time, we should do drugs

Ezra: I thought I was about to have my Snow White moment, but instead, I almost got rabies

Leia: I'm trying to tell a story, and you're BOOGIEING

Hunter: I like where I am.

Phee: Surrounded by girls?

Hunter: No. Dirt.

Ventress: Give that man some cleavage

Riyo: When I say I've got that dog in me, it's Snoopy

Crosshair: If I was a bird, I would be homicidal

Luke: They made him straight. And SAD.

Wrecker: I don't need you to tell me what to do, number man!

Quinlan: Hear me out---

Luminara: You are NOT allowed to say that

Anakin: Arsonists are easy to catch. They leave a bunch of evidence.

Ahsoka: Like fire?

Anakin: Like fire.

Anakin, to Obi-Wan: You like blondes so blond that you can't tell if they have receding hairlines or not

Leia: I have no moral code when it comes to my father.

Hunter: I just love you, okay?

Crosshair: Okay.

Hunter: And I'm gonna slap you in the face the next time I see you.

Phee: They de-'tismed my boy

Fives, singing weakly, laying the wrong way on a mattress, with his legs up against the wall and head and arms hanging off the edge: 🎶H-O-T-T-O-G-O, you can take me hot to go~🎶

Anakin: *shows Ahsoka a clip of the Grinch*

Ahsoka: How did they get live footage of you?

Obi-Wan: What were you saying?

Quinlan: I forgot

Obi-Wan: I know; I was just asking out of courtesy

Luke: A FULL rye chip?! Alms for the poor!

Ventress: Hold on, he's gonna do the slutty cape wave again

Rig Nema: He died of a pulmonary embolism

Kix: Happens to the best of us

Ezra: Should I have known that talking in a spoon in my mouth would make it fall? PROBABLY. But what if this ONE TIME it was DIFFERENT

Hera, abruptly: I need to start listening to more ABBA

Tech: I'm too weird and I need to get weirder.

Obi-Wan: Dead husband. With cancer. At least it's in a nice font.

Satine: Hmm. No.

Obi-Wan: I'm sorry, would it be easier to break the news in Times New Roman?

Phee: I am a very patient woman in terms of patience

Fives: *hands Tup his toast in order to take a picture of Jesse lying next to the trashcan*

Fives: *takes picture*

Fives: *holds out hand* Toast me

Padme: He can make that Perry the Platypus noise- and I think that's hot, by the way-

Echo: I’m going to commit a crime if I have to move these gnomes again

Kanan: My gym skills are akin to a headless chicken attempting hopscotch

[rippleclan]

RippleClan: Moon 90, Part 2

Despite fighting his infection, Waspdawn puts the pieces together regarding recent events and confronts his culprit.

[Image ID: Waspdawn says to Oilstripe "Before we do anything, I need to talk to her. I need to understand. Can you be my backup, Oilstripe?"]

Potterypool killed Achilles. At least, she helped, if what Vervaincough and Venturedapple reported was true. It would explain the long brown fur found in her wounds. But Achilles could not have killed Potterypool or Lightningrunner. There was someone else involved. And as Waspdawn thought it through, the faceless spirit that haunted RippleClan over the course of an entire moon began to speak its name.

"I'm not sure you're well enough for this, Waspdawn," Oilstripe muttered as Waspdawn bit an itch just under his bandages. It hurt whenever the tip of his tail touched anything, and his fever came and went, but he still stood in the leader's den with Oilstripe, explaining his theory as night began to fall.

"It's a conversation," Waspdawn huffed. "If she puts up a fight, there are plenty of souls in camp to help me."

"We should just send Wolfgaze to fetch her," Oilstripe sighed, peering around Waspdawn and into the snowy camp. "She can freeze her and bring her for questioning."

"I need to be sure," Waspdawn grunted, moving back in front of his deputy. "Before we do anything, I need to talk to her. I need to understand. Can you be my backup, Oilstripe?" Oilstripe stared at something to Waspdawn's side. A spirit? He could only guess when Oilstripe's eyes wandered. If it was Potterypool or Lightningrunner's ghosts, maybe they could just confirm Waspdawn's accusations and they would all be done with it. But that wasn't how Oilstripe's powers worked, was it?

"She's on Downstar's hunting patrol," Oilstripe finally sighed. "It's nearly last light. They should be back soon. I'll let you have your confrontation, but I'm stepping in the moment she tries to run. Do you understand?" Waspdawn nodded deeply, chin touching his chest. Oilstripe sighed again, shaking out her inner fury.

The two cats left Downstar's den, eyes sharpening with the brilliant glow of the camp's bonfire. Oilstripe paced around the Shiprock, but Waspdawn lingered close to the nursery. Deep within the warm den, Puddlewhisper laid with her back to the world. Waspdawn could hear the gentle sniffles and shuffles of his new niece and nephew inside, hidden at his sister's belly. Barely a day together, and Puddlewhisper seemed perfectly content with the pair. Try as he might, the same warmth that filled his chest when Gingerpaw and Frostpaw were born simply wasn't there this time. These kits were meant for a different life, a life stolen from them by not just their selfish mother but by Potterypool and the culprit that would soon return home. Those kits deserved an answer to the question of their lives.

As the last creeping vines of sunlight snaked deeper into the forest and out of sight, Downstar entered the camp, a large fish in her jaws. Her fluffy pelt stuck up at odd angles, damp from saltwater. Oilstripe and Waspdawn jogged to meet her.

"Remind me to bring Drumtooth on more rafting patrols," Downstar purred, gently setting her salty catch down. "He's a natural diver." Drumtooth and Asterblaze, both as damp as their leader, whipped around Downstar, Oilstripe, and Waspdawn with their own catches, quickly placing them on the fresh-kill pile and racing for the bonfire. Downstar's good mood dimmed as the expressions on Oilstripe and Waspdawn's faces sunk in.

"I'll explain over here," Oilstripe muttered as the culprit crept between the thorns lining the camp entrance, her pelt perfectly dry, her yellow collar standing out like a sunbeam with the fire's glow. Waspdawn forced his eyes to soften as Oilstripe guided Downstar to the side of camp.

"Lemmy," Waspdawn said casually. "Good hunting?"

"You'll have to thank Drumtooth, not me," Lemmy sighed with a dismissive twitch of her whiskers. "I stayed on shore and made sure the raft didn't capsize." She moved as though about to walk past Waspdawn, but paused and stared closer at him. "You seem tense." Her own face dropped, ever so slightly. "Something happened to Mosspounce."

"No, no," Waspdawn stammered, quickly shaking his head. "No, Mosspounce is alright, he was sharing tongues with Washington when I last saw him." Lemmy's prickly fur relaxed. "No, I just wanted to talk to you, in private. Can we sit at the Resting Place?"

"If you need to," Lemmy hummed, stretching her back out. "Let's make this quick, though. I'm ready to sleep." Lemmy strolled back out of the camp. Waspdawn glanced at Oilstripe and Downstar. The former whispered in the latter's ear, relaying everything Waspdawn had told her. Downstar's mouth drooped open, ears twitching in tiny movements as she absorbed the truth of it all. Waspdawn left them to their revelation and followed Lemmy to the log outside of camp.

The Resting Place was covered in snow, but imprints of lounging cats marked its surface. Lemmy sat with her tail dangling off the log, waiting for her fellow codekeeper. Waspdawn jumped up and sat beside her. He grit his teeth when his tail rested against the decaying wood.

"Should you be out here with your tail?" Lemmy asked.

"Like you said, this will be quick," Waspdawn said, swallowing the pain. He settled his gaze on the dark sea. "We learned that Achilles is dead today. I don't think you've had a chance to hear." Lemmy flicked an ear.

"It's better for all of us that he's gone," Lemmy said. "I knew him well. You would never have convinced him you weren't a threat to the Other Side. He could have attacked us at any time."

"I won't deny that," Waspdawn said. "Do you want to know how he died, Lemmy?" Lemmy flicked an ear again. She matched Waspdawn's cold stare into the freezing ocean beyond. "A witness told us Potterypool killed him. Not alone, though. We didn't get to hear much else, but do you want to hear my theory?" Lemmy stayed still this time. Waspdawn shifted his gaze to the tortoiseshell killer. "I think Potterypool did kill Achilles. She killed him because you asked for her help. And then you killed her."

Lemmy said nothing. Her tail dusted snow off the Resting Place. A boreal owl hooted somewhere in the forest. The wind echoed in Waspdawn's ears. His tail was no longer his biggest source of pain.

"Here's what I think happened," Waspdawn said. "You were out of camp at the same time as Potterypool. You met along the river, likely by coincidence. At that time, you saw either Nimble or Achilles. If Venturedapple knew who Nimble was, I assume you'd know her from stories at least. Nimble built her kitting nest not far from the river, and she was close to her mate. It would make sense for both of them to make camp and hunt along the river. Regardless of which cat you saw, you decided it wasn't safe for the Clan to have Achilles at our border. Potterypool agreed. So you both crossed the river and hunted Achilles down.

"Potterypool took the brunt of Achilles' attacks, as her wounds tell us. Eventually, though, you both killed him. But Nimble was watching. I think Potterypool realized Nimble was pregnant and regretted taking a father from his kits. She was going to confess your shared murder, but you disagreed. You argued, and it escalated until Potterypool was dead at your paws." Waspdawn sneered as he talked. "You buried her in hopes no one would find out, and you cleaned yourself off before you returned to camp, as though nothing happened.

"But you still weren't safe. Lightningrunner was out of camp too. I think she saw something, likely the burial. She didn't realize what she saw until later, she may not have fully understood, even then. That's because I believe she spoke to you about it in private, and you knew you had to silence her. So you tracked her to Battle Beach and ambushed her when she was alone! Tell me I'm wrong, Lemmy!"

Lemmy didn't respond for a while. Waspdawn's claws poked through the snow.

"You're wrong," Lemmy said. Waspdawn held his breath. "I didn't kill Lightningrunner. I had no part in that. But Potterypool…" Lemmy sunk off the Resting Place. She sighed deeply. "I couldn't let Achilles hurt anyone else in RippleClan. He nearly killed your brother. His death was justified, but Potterypool didn't understand. It all went too far. I'm… sorry, Waspdawn."

"If you're sorry," Waspdawn growled, voice struggling not to spike, "then you'll come with me and face trial for both of their murders. You don't get to deny Lightningrunner's death. You can't hide your ruthlessness."

"You're an intelligent cat, Waspdawn," Lemmy huffed. "You figured out nearly everything that unfolded with Potterypool. But Lightningrunner? Your story is just that. A story. You have no proof she and I ever interacted."

"She had a conversation with Mosspounce, it stuck with her," Waspdawn snapped. "She realized what she saw."

"You're searching for an easy way out," Lemmy snapped back. "If I killed Lightningrunner, where was my scent? I was hunting that day. Do you think I found the time to catch a fish and kill Lightningrunner, all the while escaping her patrol?"

"If you're sorry for Potterypool's death," Waspdawn hissed, jumping off the Resting Place, "then why aren't you sorry for killing my sister?"

"Take me prisoner," Lemmy growled, sitting with her tail over her unseathed claws. "You found me out, and I won't run from it. I'll tell the truth. I'll take my punishment. I know what I did was wrong. I'll tell it all at my trial, whether you like what I have to say or not."

The moments after that blurred in Waspdawn's memory. Escorting Lemmy to the quarantine den, gathering her family, informing the codekeepers… it all happened in a flicker of light, the flap of a wing. Had Waspdawn done it? Had be outed the Clanmate who had his sister's blood on her paws?

Or was Lemmy, for the first time in a moon, telling the entire truth?

(Waspdawn: 56, male, codekeeper, strict, learner of lore, clue finder)

(Oilstripe: 94, female, deputy, charismatic, ghost speaker)

(Puddlewhisper: 56, trans female, codekeeper, righteous, keen eye, ghost sense)

(Downstar: 149, female, leader, wise, trusted advisor, very clever)

(Lemmy: 66, female, codekeeper, cold, deep StarClan bond, good mediator)

Honeybuzz and Estherfern ask Lemmy for a favor.

[Image ID: Honeybuzz and Estherfern approach Lemmy.]

---

Lemmy asked for no visitors. One of the few things she dared to ask of RippleClan now. What could she say to her mate, to her daughters and her friends? She would say it all at her trial and face her execution with dignity.

It had been a few days since the truth came out, at least what Waspdawn declared to be the truth. She had been caught, that was true, but Lightningrunner's blood did not stain her fangs. That murderer was still out there. She owed it to RippleClan to make them see that. For now, though, in the late night before her grand trial, she stayed under guard in the quarantine den, eyes closed, yet not asleep. Simply waiting.

Soft voices outside the den stirred her from her few thoughts. She opened one eye. Honeybuzz and Estherfern stood outside, speaking with Rapidleaf and Brightreed. Lemmy couldn't hear their words. She turned with her back to the newcomers, tucking her face into the worn moss of her prisoner's nest.

"How is this den so cold?" Honeybuzz asked, shivering as he and Estherfern entered the den. "We keep patients here! We can't let it get this chilly!"

"Focus," Estherfern huffed. Their pawsteps grew closer. Lemmy could feel their breath on her back.

"Is this some sort of death rite?" Lemmy sighed, giving into their presence. She sat up, her collar twisting against her neck. To her surprise, she could no longer see Rapidleaf and Brightreed's vague forms outside.

"You're not going to be executed," Honeybuzz insisted, sitting beside the damned molly's nest. "Downstar just brought it up because—"

"Because I won't admit to a murder I didn't commit," Lemmy huffed, lips curling. "My story will be the same at the trial. I am not Lightningrunner's killer."

"We're trying to help you, you stupid kit," Estherfern suddenly spat, matching Lemmy's expression.

"Do you care about justice or a simple solution?" Lemmy snapped. Her whiskers nearly touched Estherfern's as the two mollies growled at each other.

"You're not the only cat we're trying to help, Lemmy," Honeybuzz hissed, forcing himself between her and Estherfern. Estherfern huffed and sat in the remnants of an old nest. Honeybuzz's cicada wing necklace bounced against his chest as he settled back down. "Now, can you please listen to us? The rest of the Clan thinks we're here to help you clear your conscience. We know you didn't kill Lightningrunner, but we need you to admit to it anyway." Lemmy stared unblinking at Honeybuzz. Honeybuzz met her intensity and raised it, desperation mixed into his natural confidence.

"The Clan is in danger so long as her true killer is out there," Lemmy growled. "Lightningrunner was killed from behind, without mercy. Why would I protect them?"

"You don't know the full story," Estherfern muttered.

"The Clan thinks you're guilty now," Honeybuzz explained before Lemmy could probe Estherfern's ominous statement, "but if you insist on your innocence with Lightningrunner's death, eventually cats will start asking questions again. For the good of the Clan, we can't have them ask questions. It would shatter families. I don't want anyone else to go through what my family is feeling." While it was far from the first time guilt gripped her guts, a new regret itched inside of Lemmy. She stole Honeybuzz's sister from him, yet Honeybuzz didn't call for Lemmy's blood to stain the forest floor like Vervaincough and Halibutdusk had upon the reveal.

"Who killed her, then?" Lemmy asked softly. Honeybuzz glanced at Estherfern. The old brown cleric nodded. Then Honeybuzz said a name, the last name Lemmy could ever imagine tearing into the back of Lightningrunner's neck.

"Whitepaw."

(Lemmy: 66, female, codekeeper, cold, deep StarClan bond, good mediator)

(Honeybuzz: 38, male, cleric, daring, skilled toolsmith, good teacher)

(Estherfern: 124, female, cleric, adventurous, great mediator, prophecy seeker)

[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.

[emberchii]

[ can you hear me, achilles? i'm talking to you. ]

this is a redraw from 2020, but Achilles Come Down is always a hard-hitter when I listen to it, haha

[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."