#achilles is a bottom im sorry!

[kms-dimple]

Maybe I should write a Patrochilles fic where they're happy because no way I'm gonna be fucking miserable for months over this.

[yanderefarm]

pinned comment activate!! please read the rules

this is an nsft account MINORS DO NOT INTERACT

do not repost my fics. do not feed them to ai. including chat bots.

there will be some dark content and dead dove because of the nature of yandere content to begin with. please be careful and always check content warnings.

i feel like this should go without saying but. I DO NOT CONDONE ANY OF THIS BEHAVIOR OR ACTIONS IN REAL LIFE. this is all fiction and for fun.

be nice. be patient when sending in requests i can be slow and easily distracted.

im ok with fem aligned people interacting and even requesting content just please understand that i will only write male readers.

comments, replies, tags, etc are welcomed and encouraged. if you want to talk in my messages please feel free to!! I'd love to talk to you.

you have my permission to draw or write stories with my original characters if you want to!! id love to see these things

anon list -

🐀 , 😼, 🐙, 🏳️‍🌈, 🥺, 🪐, 🐝, 🍚, 🦇, 🦎, 🦑, 🐕‍🦺, 🎵, 🫥, 🦉, 🦈, 🥄, 🐻, 🧚‍♂️, 👻, tall anon, 🥔, 💍

i will not write: fem!readers, gn! readers, bottom readers, female characters, graphic depictions of violence, graphic descriptions of blood, scat, vore, inflation, graphic depictions of throw up

i will write: chubby!reader, fat!reader, ftm!character, disabled!reader, yandere!reader, monster!reader, slasher!reader, fluff, angst, hurt/comfort, horror, kidnapping, breeding kink, daddy kink, dub con, non con, spanking, free use, pet play, forced fem, objectification, bimbofication, cervix penetration, knife kink, primal kink, dark content, hucow, lactation, dry humping, other freaky shit im not remembering right now

if you're curious if I'll write something feel free to ask!!

(and if i end up writing something i said i wouldn't don't look at me)

you can call me bunny, im 25, i use he/him pronouns and im transmasc. i love men and i love yanderes. i also like weird shit im so sorry in advanced. i post a lot of oc content and shitty art so enjoy the show

if you have any questions feel free to ask!!🐇🐰

last updated; 10/23/24

Original Characters

Ares (Housewife Yandere)

Emil Landorr (Mad King Yandere)

Nephite (Omega Cultist Yandere)

Silvan (Vampire Pet Yandere)

Ajax (Pornstar Yandere)

Noemie (Follower Yandere)

Achilles (Crime Lord Yandere)

Fandoms

Honkai Star Rail, Genshin Impact, Degrees of Lewdity, Hazbin Hotel, Helluva Boss, Jujutsu Kaisen, What in Hell is Bad, Nu Carnival, Creepypastas,

Genshin Impact;

breeding dottore

————

Honkai Star Rail;

jing yuan x jiangshi

blade x yandere

boothill x cyborg

skott x supervisor

dan feng/dan heng x mate

————

What In Hell Is Bad

for heretics (lucifer)

————

Hazbin Hotel

priest vox x his god

valentino x bull demon (with yandere vox)

————

Original Characters;

ares #yandere housewife

house wife yandere & part 2 & part 3

housewife yandere introduction

extras: spanking ares, ares getting jealous, finding ares mid kill, pampering and breeding, ares with another yandere, distracted, arguing with him, the collection, wrong name

art: thank you, kisses, ref sheet, halloween costume

emil #yandere king

yandere mad king & part 2

yandere mad king introduction

extras: emil getting jealous, cuddling with emil, morning wood

art: halloween costume, kisses

nephite #yandere cultist

yandere omega cultist

yandere omega cultist introduction

extras: nephite getting jealous, temptation

art: halloween costume,

silvan #yandere pet

yandere vampire's pet

yandere vampire's pet introduction

extras: silvan getting jealous, comforting silvan, warmth, putting on a show, spanking, collars, petting

doll au: doll saga, wedding doll

art: doll, halloween costume, gold star, kisses

ajax #yandere pornstar

yandere pornstar

yandere pornstar introduction

extras: biting ajaxs chest

art: halloween costume, tattoos

sable

noemie #yandere follower

yandere follower

yandere follower introduction

extras:

art: halloween costume, tattoos

achilles #yandere crime lord

yandere crime lord

extras:

art: halloween costume, tattoos

all of them

baby trapping (ares & nephite)

what if (ares & silvan)

piggy club (ajax & noemie)

art: expressions

references: hair, measurements,

sfw: if you were a worm, asexual reader, chubby reader,

secret admirer, if the reader died, their voices, jealousy,

reader snaps, abused reader, your face in their neck,

ftm reader, on halloween, petting them, their favorite pets,

whos a good boy?, getting a shot, tall reader, presents,

coming home drunk,

nsfw: the one with lactation, the one about butts, freak in the sheets,

himbo reader, service top, top au, the loudest,

ftm au: coming out

divider credits:

hearts & labels & content warning & dark content warning

[patoslover]

Sorry this is kinda long.... I would have liked to share this in the discord server, it's a more private way, but then the lockdown happened and I don't think I can wait any longer to show this.

Ok so.... Yesterday night, I got a bit emotional over my life and a little reflecting on what has happened the past month or so and how it affected me and all [10khaos, maggots discord sv, 15khaos, apocalypselockdown, among others] (as I always do, I'm such a soft-ass (I do hope that made up word doesn't mean anything flirty I'm trying to lowkey insult myself in here tyvm English)) And so as I always do when emotions hit, I wrote a poem-kinda-thing.

I showed it to @lxvenderjewel and @falling-raine and this happened

And later @the-beard-of-edward-teach saw it and well....

I made changes to it since I showed it to them, but it's for better, trust me.

(the poem is at the bottom of the post woo)

I think that's enough of a warning for y'all. But just in case, this made people cry, this poem, it's very very dear to me in levels I can't write I can't explain I can't put into poems all the feelings and stuff, but I hope this poem makes up for the most part.

Be careful. I love you.

Thank you @the-beard-of-edward-teach @arkytiorlecter @voids-ideas @orpiknight @cawdra @apollos-dodgeball-target @obsessed-sketches @zonzolik @dashoulinas-fandom-dump @eybefioro @queermarzipan @lxvenderjewel @ivory--raven @styx142 @myfranticscribbles @empressumbreon @frogs-go-ribbit @thearoacemess @goodomensduh @sounds-void-fishy @arkytiorlecter @random-doctor-on-the-internet @apophid-I-eat-everything @achilles-in-a-blanket-burrito @hello-ello-ello @harbinger-of-existential-dread @howmanyholesinswisscheese @an-ace-on-the-case @goblin-named-sam @1800ineedshelp @chaoticgenderflood @ivory--raven @aroaceblackhole @three-smiles-and-a-unicorn @coppicegate @zonzolik @falling-raine @dashoulinas-fandom-dump @koboldkatalyst @arkytiorlecter @friday-im-in-love-with-crowley @good-usernames-were-taken @weirdly-specific-but-ok THANK YOU THANK YOU ILY (oh wow that's a lot of ppl) (PLS PLS tell me if I forgot anyone there's so many of you, SORRY IF I TAGGED YOU TWICE AAA AND I'M SORRY IF YOU WERE TAGGED AND DUNNO WTF I AM I GOT LOST WITH THE TAGS AAAA AND SORRY IF I TAGGED U AND THE TAG DIDN'T WORK)

I love you all so so so so so so so much, you're so dear to me. Thank you. This is a gift for you.

Demons Out.

There's a hell outside,

Demonic screaming,

Trees, fall's leaving.

And I'm just here inside,

In my bubble.

Trapped inside me,

Trapped in myself.

There's demons out,

Asking to come.

But I won't let them,

I'm not alone.

Inside myself,

Inside my world,

I've got most people

Than all of your's.

They're worth more

Than any gold,

And they're far way,

More beautiful

Than any Sun,

Than any Star,

They are right here,

They are right now.

They're my comfort,

And some my loss,

But they're all lovely

Precious along.

They're the most

Amazing

Beings to exist,

And so I'm afraid

That they'll all be missed.

Because I fear

One day they'll go,

That's why I start

To sing a song.

Please let us all

Become real friends,

Please let us all

Reunite again.

There's demons out,

Angels inside.

There's me in-between

Caring for (them) all

Please let us all

Reunite again.

There's demons out.

And I'm in pain,

But not too much,

We'll find a way.

There's demons out,

We are in pain.

But I will start

To sing again.

I care for each

And every of you,

So then I start

To sing a song.

Please let us all

Reunite again.

There's demons out.

We'll try again.

[ink-system]

the poem of patroclus

im so sorry this isnt a mcyt fic i just kinda lost my hyperfixation for it but i finally got out of my writers block so heres a fic i wrote in 1 hour at 11pm

cw: su*cide, grief, death (let me know if i need to add anymore) 

a/n: guess who finally finished reading the song of achilles and has a hyperfixation on it now?!?!??!?! anyways have achilles’ perspective of patroclus’ death with how i think it would have went :]

word count: 1037

I have been through so much pain in my life. Mentally and physically, I am a warrior after all. Aristos achaion. The best of the Greeks. However, no pain, no title, absolutely nothing could have possibly prepared me for this. The overwhelming pain that consumed my entire being, swallowing me whole, eating away at my smile, my laugh, even my will to live. Especially my will to live.

The pain, no- there was no singular word to describe what I am feeling. The absolute heart wrenching, world ending, all consuming feelings I am drowning in. The feelings that are begging me to let go, to just sink to the bottom and give up. There was no use in fighting anymore. No use in running. The one thing I live for is gone. The love of my life. My first and only love. The last love I would ever have, gone.

Patroclus was really, truly gone.

No one could bring him back. No matter how much I begged, pleaded, or screamed to take his place, nothing. No god or goddess would even listen to my screaming prayers, let alone answer them. They would ignore my agony, my all consuming grief.

Patroclus was really, truly gone.

All this pain, just over a stupid title. My stupid pride. Maybe if I had been less prideful I wouldn’t be feeling the crushing pain I had been feeling for what felt like years. Maybe if I had just continued to fight for Agamemnon, continued to fight for my people, Patroclus would still be here. If I had listened to Phoenix, or Odysseus, or… Patroclus, he would still be here.

It had been my own hubris that caused the love of my life to leave me all too soon. I was blinded by my ego and flown far too close to the sun. Except instead of my wings melting, it had been Patroclus’ wings.

It didn’t seem fair. Patroclus’ life for mine.

Patroclus’ life for my own arrogance.

It should have been my downfall, not Patroclus’.

“He died a hero!” Everyone cried to me. The love of my life died doing what I couldn’t.

Be a hero.

The worst pain (although that didn’t even begin to describe what I was experiencing) I had ever felt, all because of one slight from Agamemnon. The torturous feeling that never seemed to lessen, only grow the longer I go without my other half, all because of my pride. My arrogance. My vanity.

The second half of my soul, missing. I have never felt more empty. All I could do was hold his body. Pretend he’s only sleeping, ready to wake up at any moment.

When I had gotten the news, the only thing I could do was hold him. Hold him before I was gone too. Hold him until we are together again. Until I had the second half of my soul back. Until he had his.

I hadn’t eaten, hadn’t drank, or spoken anything except his name. For hours, possibly days (time went by so slowly without Patroclus by my side, it was hard to keep track anymore) I screamed for him. Screamed until my voice was gone, then continuing. No amount of physical pain would ever compare to the waves of agony that never ceased their motion, crashing down onto me in a never ending cycle. No relief. Only the constant reminder of what I had lost. Of what I had caused to happen.

The only miniscule moments of relief I get are fitful, restless sleeps. Sleeps with nightmares of Patroclus calling out for me, begging for me to save him, only for me to be too late. Of waking up to save him, only to find his corpse next to me, my head on his stomach, covering the wound that killed him.

During my fitful naps, it’s easier to pretend Patroclus is sleeping next to me. That we’re holding each other close, just like we used to do in Chiron’s cave. Gods, I would do anything to go back to those days.

The childish innocence and naivety, the hopefulness, moments so full of love and passion, yet still so inexperienced. Experiencing the world together without the harsh realities having yet struck us. Young, innocent love that we were so certain would last.

I suppose it did last, just not in the way we had hoped. I still loved him as much as I did when we were teens, and I hope he felt the same.

We had spoken so much of our future plans, of what we were going to do together. Our elaborate, unrealistic adventures we would go on together, the fun we would have, the sights we would see, people we would save. All for naught.

Perhaps we could do these things together after death. Be happy together in the afterlife, our ashes mixed together, forever one. We could never be apart again.

Our souls forever combined, forever together, forever unchanging.

With one last sigh I stood up, looking around the tent we had shared for years. A few moments of glancing around in the dimness, I found what I had been looking for. The sword Patroclus had been using while he had died.

My sword. The one I had given him to fight my battles with.

With a shaky sob, I turned the sword around, plunging the blade into my stomach, the same wound he had inflicted onto him because of me. Our last moments would be the same, except his would be remembered as heroic.

I sank to the floor, a smile on my face. We would never be apart again.

*****

As I opened my eyes once again, I smiled upon seeing the Underworld. We were ready to be together again.

Mindlessly wandering around for what felt like hours, I found him sitting on a rock, looking up at the sky.

Patroclus. My second half.

Smile widening beyond what I felt was possible, I sprinted towards him as fast as I could, not bearing being apart for another moment. I finally reached him, tackling him to the ground like when we were kids.

‘Hello, Patroclus. I’ve missed you’

He smiled gently at me, ‘Hello, Achilles. I’ve missed you too.’

[satansphatass]

its me again, bee, the one and only, and i am so glad you're back and well, i got no ideas for headcannons but if you feel like writing any fluffy character techno at any point i wouldn't be against it lol (im going to get myself known as a techno simp lol)

Hello bee :)

Thank you for the idea I was feeling very uninspired.

Tbh I think at this point my blog is becoming the home of techno simps 😭✋

Sorry this is short and really shit, I was really unmotivated to write

Simp - Technoblade

Trigger warnings: none

Fluff

Summary: attention deprivation

***

The fire was warm, but it wasn’t quite the same as the embrace of the forever warm anarchist.

They wouldn’t class themselves as clingy, but the past week they had spent without him had been horrendous. They didn’t know if they could die of attention deprivation but at this rate, but it was highly possible.

He had gone to spend time with Phil, quite unfair. Phil was close to death anyways, but y/n? They were too young to die. Especially from something such as loneliness.

He had left behind one of his big warm cloaks so that they didn’t freeze to death in the snowy tundra. They would now spend most of their free time huddled up in it reading one of their many books. The smell reminded them of him, he smelled of old parchment and cookies - one of his favourite foods after a long day, he had a surprisingly sweet tooth for such an imposing man.

***

The air around his cottage was enveloped in a sweet aroma, enticing him even more. He wanted nothing more than to be cosied up on the sofa with y/n and something sweet.

Techno kicked the snow off the bottom of his boots and walked inside the nice warm home. He was immediately attacked by y/n pouncing on top of him.

As soon as they detached themselves from the pink-haired man, they grabbed the tray of cookies on the counter and held them out to him.

“I thought you’d be hungry after your trip!” They said with a smile. What had he done to deserve someone as angelic as this?

He reached for the plate, they were even still warm. Fresh out of the oven. He removed his crown and swept y/n away to the sofa. They landed next to him with a grunt. He pulled them into a strong side embrace and picked up a book placed on the table between them and the roaring fire. It was about Greek mythology - a shared passion between the both of them.

He flipped the pages until he came to the tale of Patroclus and Achilles, a beautiful tale of two lovers. Fighting together until their untimely demise.

He read the story from the pages, occasionally adding some extra details that he had learned from various research, in a gentle voice - it was late and they were both very tired.

His monotone voice slowly lulled them into a sleep full of Greek heroes and creatures. They were both glad to have a nightmare-less sleep back in the comfort of the other, a week apart was far too much.

[brutal-nemesis]

So, I have this new whumpee, and I want him to suffer greatly just because. I was wondering if you have any cruel ideas to use on him.

(normal human, I need him to last for a long time)

We have 3 (disclaimer: i got 4 hours of sleep so the eloquence has left me im sorry)

1. No walking. Either cut up/burn the bottoms of his feet, or, if we want to commit, we can just cut one or both of his achilles tendons :)

2. If we're burning, why not make it spicy. Put ice on the burns for a little bit and then take it away because that makes it hurt worse in my experience, and THEN we will take some cayenne pepper of smth and RUB IT IN THERE

3. i have come up with The Bug Box warning for insects and shit let's dive in

so we get this coffin type box and we tie him up and throw him in and close the lid. There is airflow because this isnt for keeps. When box is sealed, we pipe in a lot of insects/spiders/centipedes and let em go crawly. Preferably not venomous but if we wanna make it a painful sting moment who am i to disagree. Let all the little legs crawl on the him. Under his clothes. On his face.

He can't scream, or they might go in his mouth

Marinate your man in there for 1-5 hours (or longer do what you want)

[andromedasstarship]

in the stars - chapter 3

photo credit - unknown 

pairing - aaron hotchner x reader

warnings - canon-typical criminal minds violence, stalking, depictions of murder/violence, angst, verbal fighting, drinking, unhealthy coping mechanisms, smoking (cigarettes) 

summary -  “If you’re upset over how I ended our relationship, that is completely separate from the dealings of the case and I expect you to be able to conduct yourself appropriately.” Aaron said and you thought this was what ‘seeing red’ meant

a/n - hi besties! im so sorry this update took so long! i really wanted to make it perfect and was struggling with putting this together. to make it up this chapter is a whopping 5.9k words so uh enjoy lol!

masterlist // series masterlist // read it on ao3

chapter 2 // chapter 4

-----

You had to physically stop yourself- gripping the desk chair beside you so hard your knuckles turned white- from following Aaron out the office door and demanding he make sense of the whole good cop- ha!- bad cop show he’d been putting on since the two of you had been horribly reunited outside of the police station. 

This had been the second instance of him implying or accusing you of somehow worsening the case. And he hadn’t even been in LA for over 24hrs. It wasn’t fair, you thought, angrily grumbling to yourself about all the different ways you’d love to give him a piece of your mind. If he’d been a regular man, that you’d never met before, you probably wouldn’t consider his current behavior to be so- out of pocket? disgraceful? insulting?- offensive. You knew he had a reputation for being...,a hardass on the job, but that didn’t mean he had to go overboard in his treatment towards you. Maybe he wasn’t going overboard, maybe this was just how he treated every- you weren’t sure exactly how to define yourself in the case- witness? Maybe this is just what his team expected in terms of his behavior towards people he didn’t know.

But he did know you, he knew you quite well. He knew you well enough to know you’d never purposely attempt to slow the case down. Even without his fancy profiler skills, you were certain Aaron Hotchner knew every little thing about you. Or at least he used to. 

And while Aaron may know everything there was to know about you, you were beginning to doubt if you actually knew anything about him. As expected, over the past two months the case had been taking an extreme toll on you; constantly looking over your shoulder and worrying that someone was lurking behind every corner. What made it worse, was that it was yet another situation that required you to keep a secret. You ‘had’ the officers at the station and your agent, but besides them you were dealing with this completely on your own. Making the situation about yourself felt wrong, but you couldn’t even begin to explain how hurt you felt at Aaron's accusations that you were somehow more part of the problem than you were a victim. Yes, you hadn’t gone up to him and explicitly told him how badly you were hurting, but it’s not like it took a genius- or a profiler- to reach that conclusion themselves. 

It hurt, to have someone whose validation you had once- still did- crave so much, suddenly act as if you were a ‘bad guy’. Maybe you were being dramatic, you thought. Maybe you were overreacting and reading far too deep into such short interactions. On the other hand, you reasoned that it was perfectly acceptable to have feelings. Before you could delve deeper into that mental tirade, a sharp knock on the doorframe grabbed your attention. Looking up, you saw JJ leaning halfway into the room. 

“Sorry,” you said, awkwardly letting go of the chair, “I uh, got caught up with uh, just you know, thoughts about the case!” Smooth. You tried to put a cheery tone in your voice. You tried to subtly study her reaction as you walked over to her and it was clear she wasn’t exactly buying into your sudden happy attitude. She didn’t press you though, something you were grateful for. Instead she just moved out of the doorframe, letting you join her in the hallway. 

“The rest of the team has split up already, would you like to start in the basement?” JJ asked. You had only spoken to her a couple times, briefly at that, but you already found great comfort in her presence; you could see why she held the position, her ability to comfort and connect with others was unbeatable. Definitely need to send JJ a case of wine as a gift. 

You nodded dumbly, joining her in the hallway and taking her down towards your basement. Internally, you guessed the little ‘tour’ would only take an hour tops, considering all the little spiels you’d have to give about each room. 

You felt a bit like when you went through airport security or when a police car was on a road you were driving on. That sinking feeling that somehow you were going to get in trouble even though you knew you didn’t have anything to hide. Damn Aaron. His apparent lowly opinion of you was definitely messing with your head. Oh well. 

As you lead JJ towards the basement, you could vaguely hear the other agents throughout the house. A door opening here or the sound of papers rustling over there. You hadn’t exactly asked how they would be able to tell if something was missing or out of place. But honestly? You didn’t really care what the team did in your house, as long as they figured out how the unsub had gotten in there. 

You’d already come to terms with the fact that the unsub had managed to steal your clothes and jewelry, but you just couldn’t shake the fact that he had gotten into your house. Part of you secretly wished he had pick-pocketed you on a busy street or was stealing stuff off a film set instead. It would’ve been equally as bad and creepy and horrifying, but it would’ve been worth still feeling safe in your own house. 

Smacking the lightswitch on the wall behind you, the entire basement became illuminated. “So,” you started, really drawing out the word, “this is the basement. It’s technically one big open floor, but well,” you gestured lazily with your hand, “you can see it’s kinda still split up. There’s a movie room behind those doors right there.” 

JJ stepped ahead of you, walking towards the high windows in the basement. You watched as she ran her fingers along the window edges, carefully going over each one. “Do these open?” She asked, turning back to look at you. 

You quickly shook your head. “They’re mostly just for, like, decoration purposes.” You responded, giving a slight shrug. “I um, I’m not down here much unless I’m having people over. And those stairs we came down are the only way to get in here.” You added, thinking that’d probably be helpful. 

JJ gave you that nice smile again and started towards the movie room. “I’m just gonna look in here real quick and then we can go back upstairs, okay?” 

You stood awkwardly at the bottom of the stairs, rolling back and forth from your heels to your tippy toes, awkwardly playing with your hands in front of yourself. You knew her movie room scan wouldn’t take wrong, there were zero windows in there and no other point of entry besides the door she had walked through. 

Just as you expected, JJ came back out no longer than five minutes later. Once she got closer to you, you turned slowly on your heel and started back up the stairs. “We can start upstairs and then meet the rest of your team on the main level?” You offered.

“Lead the way.” 

“There’s um, two ways to get upstairs. There’s that main staircase you saw in the foyer and also there’s a ‘servants stair’ in the back,” you said, making air quotes with your fingers at the ‘servants stair’ part, “I have people that work in the house sometimes, but it’s not an actual designated staircase for anyone.” You explained, unsure of why you were feeling so anxious. 

“Why don’t we go up using the second set of stairs? Since I’ve already seen the main set.” JJ said. 

You nodded dumbly again, and walked in the direction of the back stairs. Once upstairs, you gave the same room spiel to JJ about six times. This is ‘x’ room, yep those windows can open, nope no one regularly comes into this room, yes the balcony doors do lock from the inside. 

Just as you thought earlier, the little tour took just a couple minutes under an hour. You and JJ were standing in your kitchen, both of you leaning against opposite countertops. According to JJ the whole team had agreed to meet up in your kitchen once they were done with their scans, so it seemed that you two were the first to finish. Also expected. 

You were lucky you hadn’t run into Aaron the entire time. At times you could vaguely hear his voice coming from another room and all that did was pull on your heartstrings and remind you of when the two of you were together. Aside from the sadness factor, you still weren’t sure you could trust yourself to not yell at him as soon as you saw him again. 

“That’s funny.” JJ said amusedly-more to herself than to you-, pulling you out of your thoughts. 

“What is?” You asked. She had moved from her spot by the countertops, to standing in front of your liquor wall, staring up at a bottle you couldn’t quite recognize from your position. 

“Oh, just Agent Hotchner? Out there,” she said, gesturing broadly out to where the rest of the team might be, “he loves this brand of scotch. We joke sometimes that he’d pick it over us if he was given the choice. But apparently it’s super difficult to get. He started getting lucky a few years ago and found a way to buy it, but recently I guess that luck ran out and he hasn’t been able to find it anymore.” 

Your eyes went wide at that. Yes. That scotch was super difficult to get and it was ridiculously expensive. And yes, Aaron loved the stuff. The two of you used to constantly argue over money. He hated that you were always the one paying for everything and had created a ‘rule’ that you weren’t allowed to buy him any gifts. Of course, you managed to find a way around that rule and found that this specific scotch was his gift achilles heel. So, you used to send him a steady supply while also keeping a bottle at your place for the rare occasions he was over. 

“Oh?” You squeaked. 

“Yeah, it’s super rare or something. They only make so many batches a year don’t they?” JJ asked, turning back to look at you. 

You quickly pulled your emotions in when she turned towards you, just giving her your third dumb nod of the day. “Yep, super hard to get. Super super hard. I uh, got as a gift once, I don’t even like the stuff.” 

“You should tell Hotch. I bet he’d pay pretty well for it.” She said with a laugh, shaking her head. Definitely will not be doing that. 

----

Upstairs, Rossi and Hotch were looking through your upstairs office. While your downstairs office was more work based- you stored scripts and had meetings down there, etc.-, your upstairs office was used for your more ‘personal’ work tasks. 

“If the unsub is taking her clothes, we might have better success scoping out her closet. See the potential entry and exit points from her room that the unsub must be taking.” Rossi proposed. 

Hotch nodded at that, putting down the stack of fan mail he’d been flipping through, trying to find any repeats or ‘creepy’ letters. He made a mental note to have Reid come and read through the piles of other mail you had neatly stacked around the room.

Your attention to fanmail had been one of the things that had quickened the process of him falling in love with you. He had had his doubts in the beginning of you relationship- he had stereotyped you for sure-, your age and status giving him somewhat valid concerns that you’d be insanely disconnected from the normal world. You’d proved him wrong in many ways since the beginning, but one of those ways had been the many days you’d call him from this room, reading through every single letter you were sent and always making sure to send a small note back. 

“Good idea, let’s go.” Hotch said. He walked out of office and didn’t think twice, his body automatically walking towards the room a few doors down from your bedroom. You didn’t keep your closet in your bedroom, you had actually put a little couch and sitting room in your bedroom closet space. Instead you’d taken an entire guest room and converted it into a full dressing room/closet that was a better fit for your needs. 

As Hotch went straight into the room, he missed the narrow look Rossi was giving him from the doorframe. It only took a couple minutes, but eventually Hotch looked up, cocking an eyebrow at Rossi. “Are you going to come in?” He questioned. 

“You knew her closet wasn’t in her room.” Rossi noted, amusement clear in his voice. 

Hotch’s face paled, before he steeled his emotions back over. “I saw the clothes while walking past earlier and made the deduction.” 

“She’s pretty, isn’t she Aaron?” Rossi teased, clearly finding a lot of enjoyment in this conversation. 

“Dave,” Hotch groaned, running a hand over his face, “just, not now okay?” He asked, the desperation clear in his voice. 

Rossi certainly didn’t have the entire story figured out, but he wasn’t dumb either, he could piece things together. As much as he’d love to keep busting Hotch over this, there was something about how gentle he had been with you in the conference room and his current clear discomfort that persuaded Rossi otherwise. Rossi grinned at Hotch and raised his hands in mock surrender. 

“So, we know the unsub doesn’t have to necessarily be quiet, her room is at least what, 3-”

“Four and across the hall.” Hotch huffed out, not looking up to meet Rossi’s eyes.

“Four and across the hall away. So he doesn’t need to sneak past her if he’s coming in at night...” 

----

Back in the kitchen, you turned your head at the sound of the back patio doors opening, showing Morgan and Spencer. Guess they’d be the second pair done with their house tour. 

Just as you were about to open your mouth and offer the two of them something to drink, you noticed the rather grim expressions on both their faces. Upon better inspection, you saw Spencer was tightly gripping on to a dirty journal. 

“What’s that?” You asked curiously, trying to get a better look at it. 

“I found this uh, journal out by the edge of your property line. I think it may belong to the unsub.” Reid responded, giving you a tight lipped look. 

It was terribly cliche, but you couldn’t help but gasp at that. Your eyes going wide and your mouth hanging open. 

“I flipped through it, there’s nothing that clearly identifies him, but it seems like he was keeping track of your comings and goings. As well as keeping a list of the things he took from your house, we can cross check that list with-” 

“Can I look at it?” You interjected, a morbid curiosity consuming your mind. 

Reid gave an unsure glance at the two other agents in the room. “I think it’d be better for the rest of the team and I to look through the journal first, and make sure there’s nothing uh...upsetting in it.” 

----

With the new revelations that the unsub had managed to break into your home multiple times, the team decided it would be best for at least one of them to be with you at the house at all times; during the day they would assign a plainclothes officer to discreetly sit watch. It was comical, the way they decided on the watch and then promptly assigned Aaron the first shift of the night. 

You wondered why he agreed to it, knowing he could’ve easily pulled a seniority boss card and taken himself out of any and all future watch shifts as well. He probably didn’t want you to get closer with any of his agents, should you accidentally say something a bit too personal. He also probably assumed that with the late hour of the night, you’d immediately be going to bed or at least locking yourself away in your room for the rest of the night. 

The team had stayed hours after their first walkthroughs of the house, the new list and notes from the unsub giving you all a better idea of what to look for. You had gone through the list of clothes and jewelry in front of the team, giving them a base description of what you assumed the unsub had meant, whether or not you had considered it missing and where you thought you’d last seen it in the house.

Unfortunately, whatever Aaron had been banking on wouldn’t be happening. You hadn’t been able to shake the sinking feeling that your house was no longer a home anymore. It was painfully cheesy, but you knew that trying to sleep would be futile. Nor did you really feel like being ‘alone’ in your room. That didn’t mean you were going to strike up a conversation with Aaron or ask him to play a board game or something, but you wouldn’t be shutting away from the rest of the night. 

After the team left, you had gone upstairs and changed into a more comfortable outfit for the evening; just your trusty sleep shorts and an oversized t-shirt. You were now walking back down the stairs and towards your kitchen; you grasped a lighter and your emergency cigarette pack in one hand. As you made your way into the kitchen, you could feel Aarons eyes on you from wherever he was seated in the living room. You pointedly ignored him, instead setting the pack and lighter down, freeing your hands so you could mix yourself your favorite drink. 

Once your drink was prepped, you balanced all your things in your hands and made your way back through the living room and out the grand French doors that lead to your backyard. You walked over to one of your lounge chairs that overlooked the pool and had a beautiful view of the sky and bright lights of the city. You turned on one of your favorite playlists and made yourself comfy in the chair, lighting up one of the cigarettes. 

With the first inhale, you felt your body relax. It was a horrible habit- you knew that-, but if there was ever a time to stress smoke, you reasoned it was probably now. Over the sound of your music, you faintly heard one of the doors open again, but you didn’t bother turning around. 

“I thought you quit.” Aaron said, quite literally coming out of the shadows. Even though you didn’t turn to look at him, you could perfectly imagine him in your mind; probably leaning up against one of the legs of the cabana, arms tightly crossed and a deep scowl on his face. 

“I did.” You replied plainly, blowing a steady stream of smoke out of your mouth. Using your free hand you picked your glass back off the chair side table, twirling it slowly. As you took a long sip, you could hear Aaron walk closer, not quite coming into view yet. 

“Drinking and abusing substances in response to a traumatic situation is widely frowned upon. 

“Thank you Surgeon General,” you said, rolling your eyes before adding, “no offense Agent, but right now, I don’t really think it matters.” You didn’t even bother attempting to argue that you were on your first drink and first smoke. 

“It matters, when my team will be counting on you tomorrow. The expectation is that you’ll be a useful and legitimate resource.” Aaron said, voice tight. 

“Do you really think I’m dumb enough to actually believe, that you believe that a single drink is going to render me useless?” You asked, finally turning your head so you could give him a pointed look. When he didn’t answer you rolled your eyes again, turning back away from him. “It doesn’t matter, Agent, I’m unavailable to be a resource tomorrow.” 

“What do you mean, unavailable?” Aaron asked. He finally walked into view, sitting down on the chair next to you. He positioned his legs over the edge facing you, resting his elbows off his knees. 

“What do you mean unavailable?” You said mockingly- the alcohol in your system and stress of the day emboldening your behavior. You paused for a moment to take another drag from your cigarette; Aaron didn’t miss the way you turned your head further from him during your exhale. “You have your job Agent, I have mine.” 

“There is a dangerous free man out there with a special interest in you. He’s not only managed to break into your house but is also murdering surrogate women in place of you,” he said, voice growing louder as he went, “and you think you should go to a film set? How immature and irresponsible are-” 

“Stop doing that!” You cut him off, snapping your head to face him. For a brief moment, you were taken aback by how close he’d been sitting. “Stop painting me to be some dumb self centered girl. This is the fourth time today.” You said, staring him hard in the face, neither of your breaking eye contact. He always looked so good with a beard- stop that. 

“I’m trying to do my job and protect you,” he paused, eyes scanning your face, “I couldn’t handle anything happening to you.” In that moment, his voice was so painfully honest and it almost made you want to agree to do whatever dumb rules he had for you. 

Almost.

Instead, you swung your legs to the side of the chair opposite to him, standing up in a quick blur of motion. “Stop doing that too!” You exclaimed, running your free hand over your face. You took a long drag from your cigarette, placing one hand on your hip. Aaron was giving you a genuinely confused look and you just wanted to wipe it off in one big swipe. “Stop doing some weird little bait and switch between acting like I’m a diva and then trying to end it with some vaguely little sweet comment.” 

“You actually think I don’t care about your safety?” Aaron asked, the faintest bit of hurt in his voice. He stood up as well before continuing. “You think this isn’t a difficult case for me?” 

“You do not get to do that!” You said angrily, pointing a free finger out at him. “You are not allowed to try and make yourself a victim in this story while you simultaneously make me part of the problem. How the hell can you see yourself as even remotely ‘good’ when you left the way you did?” There it was. Maybe it was immature, dragging the breakup into the argument, but the days’ tension- not to mention the months of bottled up emotions- was finally snapping inside of you. 

“If you’re upset over how I ended our relationship, that is completely separate from the dealings of the case and I expect you to be able to conduct yourself appropriately.” Aaron said and you thought that this must be what ‘seeing red’ meant. 

“Do you treat all your witnesses like this?” You were full on yelling now, but you couldn’t bring yourself to care. “Is this your version of appropriate conduct, Agent Hotchner? You’ve proven to be nothing but incompetent! You can’t even see two inches past your own fucking face to consider this from my perspective!” 

Your words had their intended effect. Aaron’s face fell for the briefs of moments before years of bottling his own emotions took back over. You had to give him some credit for keeping it, outwardly, more together than you were. “I won't fight with you over something as trivial as this. You’ll report to the station in the morning with the rest of the team.” He ordered, voice dangerously low. 

“I have to work!” You exclaimed, putting heavy emphasis on each word. 

“Going to work isn’t safe. Do you understand that? Your stalker is well acquainted with your schedule, you need to step away from what’s expected of you. It’s dangerous-”

“Oh my god,” you groaned, shaking your head, “are you even listening to yourself? Your job is dangerous every single day, hell you didn’t even step away when the job was dangerous specifically to you! How am I supposed to take advice you can’t even follow?” At the end of your sentence, you angrily stubbed out your cigarette in the ashtray, leaving the butt in the tray. 

“This isn’t about me.” Aaron snapped, voice loudest it’d been all night. “I’m trying to keep you safe. What part of that don’t you understand?” He asked, giving you a tough look. You found yourself at a loss for words and he took your silence as an opening to continue. “I can’t stand to see you get hurt.”

“Are you finally understanding how exhausting it was to love you!” You blurted out, the words catching even you by surprise. You forcibly blinked back the tears forming your eyes. “That this, is how I felt each time you were called away on a case?” 

Aaron was equally as shocked, his mouth opening in vain a few times as he searched for the proper response. “I made sure you were properly aware of the risks and demands of my job before we started our relationship.” Bad answer.

“And I never complained,” you replied, a defeated tone creeping into your voice, “not once, did I?”

“If you’re going to accuse me of hypocrisy, you should recognize it in yourself. You were equally if not more in demand than I was.” 

“I thought you liked that I was so ‘in demand’!” You said, the frustration growing again. “What was it you always said? You liked not having to worry about me alone at home, waiting up for you.” 

“You’re coming to the station tomorrow Y/N. Final order.” Aaron repeated, completely ignoring your last statement. 

“You know what,” you said, the fight in your voice gone, “I don’t have to put up with this and your lame attempts at trying to be a good guy. I’m not having this conversation anymore.” You quickly leaned over to swipe your cigarette pack and glass of the little table. 

“Are you actually going to run away from this?” He asked, almost as if he was trying to bait you back into the argument.

You scoffed loudly, staring him dead in the eyes. “You did.” 

You angrily walked around him, nearly stomping the entire way to the door. As you were halfway into the house you paused for a moment, not even slightly turning your head back towards him. “Blankets are still in the same spot in the living room.” You said, slamming the door behind you as soon the sentence left your lips. 

-----

The next morning, promptly at 8am, an email from your agent was sent to Aaron. It was incredibly petty and inherently personal, but to an outsider it was nothing out of the ordinary for someone of your status. Aaron was near furious, as expected, but even in his stubbornness he could see you had the high ground. Long story short, the email plainly stated vaguely threatened that if your work schedule were to become an issue for the team, you could easily send a ‘spokesperson’ from your team to deal with any and all future communications. Y/N 2, Aaron Hotchner 0.

Back at your house, you were having a lovely morning. The victory tasted sweet in your mouth as you got yourself ready for the long day. Sometime around 4:00AM Reid had switched out with Aaron and the two of you were currently in your kitchen; Reid sitting at one of your countertop stools while you stood over the stove. After being angrily informed by Aaron that you wouldn’t be required to come into the station with Reid, you decided to make a simple breakfast for the two of you. Reid had wanted to leave sooner, but he was also under orders to not leave you alone until you were safely in your own car and on your way.

You weren’t sure how he felt, but you thought you and Reid got along quite well. He was the closest in age to you and even though he didn’t really seem to understand any of the little jokes or references you made, there was still some level of mutual understanding there. It didn’t hurt that he was quite easy on the eyes as well, of course he wasn’t Aaron by any means- stop that! 

Over breakfast, you spent the entire time answering Reid’s many questions about various actors and actresses he was a fan of. Lucky boy, you thought; as all the people he mentioned were quite nice even when the camera was off. What was it that people said about never meeting your hero? 

He graciously offered to do all the clean up, as you had cooked, which gave you a bit of extra time to make sure you were ready to go. When you both were ready and Reid had confirmed the plainclothes officer was positioned on your street, he helped you to your car. 

With one hand on the top of your car, just as you were about to sit down, you stopped and turned to Reid. “I enjoyed breakfast, would you please tell Agent Hotchner how sorry I am that my schedule’s gotten in the way?” You asked, giving him your sweetest smile. It was another petty move and Aaron was sure to see right through it; the team had amazing skills at reading people, you knew that, but you were an equally talented actress. “I’ll make sure to let you guys know when I’ll be back at home tonight.” You added, before sliding into your car. Reid closed the door gently behind you, waving from the outside of your garage as you pulled out and drove off. 

-----

Case wise, the next two days were quiet. You had won the ‘going to work battle’ by a longshot and happily went about your scheduled days. Aaron hadn’t taken another watch shift since the argument, something you were grateful for. It wasn’t until the fourth day, that the case started to pick up again.

“Agent Hotchner?” A young officer stepped into the conference room, holding out a thick manila envelope. “This was just dropped off at the front desk, addressed to you.” That certainly captured the entire team’s attention; every head turning, as if off on a swivel, to face the officer. 

“Who dropped it off?” Hotch demanded. ‘Who dropped it off?” He repeated, an added aggression in his voice. 

“Some kid! Some kid dropped it at the front and left before anyone could get a word out!” The officer said hurriedly, raising one of his hands up in a meek surrender. 

Hotch stepped up to the officer, easily snatching the envelope out of his hands. “Assure that my technical analyst has access to your entire security feed. Now.” He ordered, not giving the officer as a second glance. “Morgan, call Garcia and make sure she accesses those tapes and identifies the kid immediately.” 

Hotch went back to standing in front of the long table in the middle of the room, setting the envelope down in front of him. “Gloves, I need-” A pair were placed in his outstretched hand by Reid before he could finish. “I don’t want anyone touching anything that comes out of here without gloves, understood?” He said, not looking at anyone in particular. His focus, completely drawn to the angry penmanship that spelled out his name. After quickly pulling his gloves all the way on, Hotch grabbed the envelope again, internally shoving down his emotions before ripping off the top edge in one clean pull. Nothing could have prepared him for the way the envelope was overflowing with hundreds of photos of you. He tilted the envelope and they all came falling out, covering the table in front of him. Reid mentally estimated there were over five hundred photos of you- some seemed to be cut, some looked to have writing and designs on them- and there were even a few slips of paper thrown in the mix. 

“Hotch, Garcia managed to grab the plate from what the kid drove off in. She's running it-” Morgan said, his sentence running off as he took in the table full of photos. “Holy shit.” He said quietly, making his way closer to the table as well. 

Hotch reached down, picking up the closest photo to him. There you were, standing on a boardwalk with your hand blocking the sun from your eyes. You looked beautiful- stop that. As Hotch further studied the photo, he picked up a second one, taking another good look. It struck Hotch and the team then, the majority of the photos were grossly intimate; as if the unsub had taken them by himself. Hotch’s stomach twisted when his eyes fell on a photo that looked like you were posing for it, throwing a big smile and peace sign up at the camera. 

“Did Garcia get any hits on any scorned lovers?” Emily asked, holding up a photo of you and a man. The face and body of the man had been aggressively scratched over and cut up, but Aaron had a sinking feeling it was of him. 

“Yea, I got another potential ex photo right here.” Reid said, holding up another picture. In this one you had clearly been looking up at someone, but the photo had been crudely cut up to exclude whoever it was. 

Morgan held up one of the slips of papers, giving it a confused look. “You lost Aaron?” He said, reading off the paper. “What’s the reasoning for singling out Hotch rather than someone closer to her age like Reid” He questioned, not expecting anyone to answer. 

“I got one of Hotch’s face scribbled over. He must’ve gotten the photo online.” Emily added, holding up a professional headshot of Hotch. “Is anyone seeing photos of the rest of us? The unsub could see all of us as interfering with his connection to Y/N.” 

Hotch’s stomach was twisted in all different directions. He knew the moment of truth was coming and was internally cursing himself for not coming clean sooner. But that paled in comparison to the sickness he felt over the unsub clearly being someone who had such personal access to you. He was certain that some of these photos dates back years. The idea that whoever was doing this had been so close to you, for so long, could’ve brought him to his knees. 

“Hotch…” JJ said, her voice accusatory. She looked up at him, face a mix of confusion and a hint of betrayal. She held up another photo and the entire team went quiet. This photo was clearly taken at a distance, but there you were looking lovingly up at a man who was certainly Hotch. 

Hotch had one hand clenched tightly on the edge of the table, taking a deep breath before he looked up at his agents staring expectantly at him.  

“I haven’t been completely honest with you all,” Hotch started, running his free hand over his face, “I met Y/N five years ago and we were together for three, until I ended things.” He was sure someone had audibly gasped at that. “I know you all may have various concerns over my proximity to the case and are valid in any anger you may feel towards me. But right now, I need to go call Y/N and make sure she’s safe.” 

Hotch didn’t give anyone a chance to reply, instead whipping out his phone and near running out the door. Leaving a team of confused and shocked agents in his wake.

-----

a/n - of course, thank you all for reading. it means the world to me! also just the quickest of shoutouts to @kylorendrip and @ssahoodrathotchner who both constantly put up with my writing complaints and all the random ideas i bounce around their dms on the daily. 

taglist - @mac99martin @iwaizumiee @kylorendrip @hqtchner @lieswithoutfairytales @ssahoodrathotchner @midsummernightdream @weasleylovers @evans-dejong @itsmytimetoodream @yoshigguk @28cnn @cuddlyklaus @hotch-meeeeeuppppp @yallgotkik @sunflowersandotherthings @alexrodriguez1269

no permission is given to copy or republish my writing on any other platform or account. if you see this story outside of my blog or my ao3 it is stolen work. i do not own nor claim to own criminal minds or any of the character involved in it.

[therainbowwillow]

Previous part: https://therainbowwillow.tumblr.com/post/640627005428318208/therainbowwillow

Part 9!

Premise/last time on this Hadestown AU: Challenged by the Fates, Hermes scrambles onto the train out of Hadestown just in time. Eurydice and Apollo treat Orpheus’s wounds. Hyacinthus takes a nap. Persephone considers filing for divorce. Achilles and Patroclus silently brood over the fact that they’re sharing a train car with Apollo, who indirectly (okay, not that indirectly) murdered them during the Trojan war. Dionysus encourages his mother to please divorce his homicidal father already. Thanatos and Hypnos flee Hadestown on foot. Hades hides to avoid the riots (that he totally caused by trying to kill Orpheus, this is his fault.)

(can you tell writing a synopsis is sometimes my favorite part of this process? I’m a first time fanfic writer, okay? Let me have this!)

—————————————

Hades slides the last lock into place and begins to barricade his bedroom doors. Being walled up in his living quarters, he thinks, does not look good for his image. Then again... what image does he have left to preserve?

He tries not to remember the pain and terror in Orpheus’s eyes. He was helpless. He hadn’t struggled, only given a desperate plea for his life.

Hades knew Orpheus had escaped. He’d watched Hermes from his tower, as he’d wrapped the wounded poet in his coat and carried the boy away from his confinement.

Hades had been given a choice when the boy arrived: appease the workers by letting Orpheus flee or kill the boy and appear strong. He’d taken the middle route. His shades had no respect for him any longer. Now, they pounded at his bedroom door, chanting Orpheus’s name.

Thanatos had been right, of course. He was weak. Foolish. Everything was far out of Hades’s reach now. Persephone would find her mother. As much alcohol as it might take, she was strong; she’d fight the bindings of the food of the dead. She would not return to him now. Orpheus would survive. Counterintuitively, Hades finds himself hoping the boy had made it out safely. Half of him prays that Orpheus will recover and sing the world back into tune. He’ll never get to see it, Hades realizes. Orpheus’s springtime will be lost on the underworld. Nothing will change. Hadestown will never again see flowers bloom. Eventually, the boy’s song will be forgotten by the dead as the Lethe again took its hold. Orpheus and Eurydice’s persistence may well earn them a seat among the gods. They’d never again return to his halls. All Hades has is his kingdom. And he must keep his grip. He will keep his grip. He always has.

The ground trembles. Another mine collapsed or production line blown sky high, he knows. Hades shuffles through his wife’s dresser, preparing to add it to the barricade. He finds a bottle of wine in the bottom drawer with a note attatched. ‘For when I see you again, Seph!’ it reads, ‘Much love, Dionysus.’ Hades slams the bottleneck against the dresser. It shatters to bits. He pours the wine into his mouth and swallows. It reminds him of the few sweet springtimes he’d spent up above. He finishes the bottle.

—————————————

“Strong enough?” Hermes asks, handing Apollo a bottle of morphine.

“Should be. I’ll give him a dose. It’ll knock him out long enough for me to stabilize his condition. Eurydice, distract him for a second.”

“Hey, Orpheus,” she says. “When we get married-”

“We’re getting married?”

She smiles. “Oh, yes. Anyway, when we get married, you get to help me make the bouquet. And, I was thinking, we could write a nice little poem on the wedding invitations.”

“What would it say?” He asks.

“That’s your job!” She laughs.

“What would you write?”

“I dunno! ‘Roses are red, our love is true, we’re getting married to prove it to you!’”

He grins. “That’s terrible.”

“I told you! I’m not a poet.”

“Okay, so I’ll write the invitations,” he says.

“Let’s hold the ceremony outside. Maybe during cherry blossom?”

“Heads up, Eurydice, he’ll be out of it soon,” Apollo warns her.

Eurydice nods and continues, “Who should we invite?”

“Hermes and Persephone.”

“How about me?” Apollo asks.

“Oh yeah. And Hyacinthus too. Everyone we know can come! We’ll have wine for Seph and I’ll drink grape juice!”

Eurydice laughs. “Do you have any idea how much I love you?”

“A lot,” he says. “A lot a lot.”

“More.”

“All the way to the stars?” He guesses.

“Past the stars and all the way back,” Eurydice corrects him.

His breathing steadies a little. “Can I sleep now?” He asks.

“Yes,” Apollo responds.

“When you wake up,” Eurydice says, “I’ll be right here. We’ll get married during cherry blossom once you’re feeling better and then you’ll teach me how to play the lyre.”

“Tch. Will you actually listen this time?” His words are slurred slightly by the medicine.

“I promise I will.”

“And you won’t try to throw my lyre into the fireplace?”

“I didn’t- okay. No, I won’t.”

“Good. Eurydice, I love you.”

“I love you too. Now get some sleep.”

He closes his eyes and his breathing steadies. Eurydice sinks back in her chair. “He’ll be alright?” she asks.

“Should be.” Apollo winces. “Give me a dose of that morphine or get this arrow out of my ankle, would you?”

“I’ll get Patroclus,” Hermes replies.

He returns a moment later with Achilles and Patroclus in tow. “Well,” Achilles remarks, “looks like karma caught up to you.”

Apollo rolls his eyes. “I saved the kid, now do me a favor and shut it.”

“Fine. Lay down.”

“What, on the floor? I don’t get a bed?”

“Yes, on the floor,” Patroclus snaps. “I’m not dragging you around.”

“Okay, okay.” Apollo puts his hands up in defeat and lowers himself to the ground.

“Listen, your lover boy’s asleep. So how do you want to do this?”

“Quietly,” Apollo says through gritted teeth.

“Alright.” Patroclus stuffs a scrap of cloth into Apollo’s mouth. “Bite this.”

He does. Patroclus snaps the arrow shaft. Apollo clenches his fists.

“Sorry,” Patroclus mutters, unapologetically.

“Mmmph.” Apollo attempts to reply through the cloth.

He yanks the arrow out. Apollo gives a muffled cry of pain. “Alright, there you go. A bandage and you should be fine.”

He spits out the rag. “You’re not even going to bandage it yourself?”

“No. Apollo, you guided a spear through my stomach and an arrow through Achilles’s foot. You let us bleed to death surrounded by the bodies of our fallen friends. Deal with it yourself or find a doctor whose life you didn’t end.”

Apollo stares up at the ceiling. “Take care of Hyacinthus, would you?”

“That I will,” Patroclus replies, honestly. “He’s doing well. He’ll want to see you when the pain meds wear off. So here.” He tosses Apollo a roll of bandages. “I’ll get you when he wakes.”

Hermes kneels at Apollo’s side. “You want a hand?”

“Yeah, yeah,” he says, breathless. “That’d be nice.”

“Thank you. For helping with Orpheus. I know you would’ve liked to see Hyacinthus,” Hermes says.

Apollo half-smiles. “Orpheus is my son too. He’s a good kid, Hermes. You raised him well.”

“He admired you, Apollo. He cherished your visits.”

“I should’ve come more often,” he mutters.

“You were grieving,” Hermes reminds him. “Orpheus knows how it is. He never blamed you.”

“I’ll come by more often once this is all over. I’d like to promise him that.”

“He’d appreciate it, Apollo,” Hermes tells him.

——————————————

“Persephone?” The door opens. She turns in her seat.

“Dionysus. Come sit.” He takes a seat beside her. “What now?” she asks softly.

“You stay with me, Persephone. Demeter and I will take care of you.”

She shakes her head. “I’m bound to that place.”

“You know Demeter would find a way around it. She’d bribe Zeus. Whatever it takes, mama.”

“Remind me this, son. What did I see in that man?” She asks in a low tone.

“He was kind. Reliable. He always treated me well as a boy. Gave me a normal life. As normal as the underworld gets, that is,” Dionysus reminisces.

“What changed? What broke inside of him for him to put a knife through Orpheus? Send shades to hunt us? I cannot say that he is not the man I know, though. I’ve seen this for years.”

“I...” he pauses. “I don’t know.”

“I feared for you, Dionysus. I sent you away to keep you out of his grasp. I stayed longer winters to distract him. It wears on me, even now.”

“Mother, I can handle myself.”

“Not against Hades. I will not have you put yourself on the line for me, son,” she tells him, sharply.

“I don’t want you going back there, Persephone!” he pleads.

She shakes her head. “Hades will contact his brother. Zeus has no pity for a woman’s whining. Hades will keep his kingdom, and he will keep his wife.”

“Mother-”

She cuts him off. “Be realistic. We must work out a reasonable agreement. We need to protect Orpheus, first and foremost. If he is not protected by my contract, then I will not take it. I will plead for shorter months stuck down there, but I would hope for very little. You will swear to me that you will follow the rules laid out for us, regardless of how harsh they may be.”

“I will not,” he says.

“This isn’t up for debate. Hades owns me. He owns everything that touches his foresaken realm. I am his queen; I am his prisoner.”

“I’m not letting him have you!”

“I’m not giving you a choice, Dionysus. I bound myself to him. I cannot change the past. All we can do is try, my son.”

[barry-j-blupjeans]

rules: put your music on shuffle and list the first 10 songs (and then tag 10 people)

I was tagged by @sgrumby uwu thank

Crazy = Genius by Panic! At The Disco

Could Have Been Me by The Struts

Just One Yesterday by Fall Out Boy

Be Nice To Me by The Front Bottoms

Sex with a Ghost by Teddy Hyde

Despair by Leo

Let Me Down Slowly by Alec Benjamin

Mama Said by Lukas Graham

Achilles by Gareth Fernandez

Level of Concern by Twenty One Pilots

Tagging: @abraca-fuck-you @feychella @argonaut--keene @the-badass-journal-keeper (and anyone else bc i honestly dont know who to tag, im sorry D:!!)

[flatstarcarcosa]

house/home

Ship: wilson and wilson at large warnings: exploration of trauma and PTSD, references to abuse note: this ended up being similar to the last thing i did, what started out as a simple headcanon exploration turned into an emotionally charged, rambling piece that at one point, turns into a story. it has not been proof read yet. 

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

slade and i discover pretty quickly after the move to vermont that simply packing my shit and taking care of any lingering obligations in florida i was tied too is not, in fact, the entire solution to my problems. 

which of course ties into the larger theme of our whole relationship at this point in that we’re both just constantly attempting to run away from our problems, our pasts, our trauma all while scolding each other and saying it doesn’t work like that. 

he finds i don’t get settled right away. or even within a few weeks or months. the vermont house, for all purposes, for the longest of time, is not my house. it is not my home. i quickly default back into the same mindset i have had my entire life, drilled and beaten into me since i was a child that if someone else has paid for it, if someone else has bought it, if someone else has acquired it and is allowing me to use it, 

it is not mine. it is theirs.

which of course, that’s not the mindset that slade is coming from. he picked the vermont house because it made the most sense logistically. it was already there, sitting and waiting. filled with belongings he could never fit in elsewhere, filled with dust, filled with ghosts of memories past. 

it made sense to use it. 

so when we finally arrive, both regretting the initial idea of turning the move into a road trip, my things are waiting in storage containers. two large ones, sitting in the driveway and blocking access to the detached garage. 

the house smells of pine and wood and must, having been shuttered up for so long. he comments that he can’t exactly remember the last time he was here, and he opens windows and adjusts the thermostat as he moves through. 

everything is decorated in warm colors and wood, brown furniture and carpeting, and old linoleum in the kitchen that has seen better days. it’s distinctly him, and his presence coats everything i touch, as if his absence has meant nothing. 

which it probably hasn’t. after all, a house is four walls and a roof and completely unconcerned with the on-goings inside it.

my things get moved in at an easy pace, boxes stacked out of the way in the basement while we try to figure out placement. 

slade jokes we’re both going to have to pick and choose on the books; my amount added to his exceeding the capacity. he comments something about adding more bookcases in his study, and he trails off when he mentions something about adeline always wanting that done years ago. 

there’s pictures of her in his study. her, and grant, and joey. more pictures of the three of them alone or together than there are of slade with them all. one in particular, that i find by accident stuffed behind a novel about Achilles, specifically has slade’s face cut out of it. i don’t ask. i don’t have to. 

over the next few weeks my presence adds to his. 

we have a fake argument about the two batman statues i have, me putting them on shelves in the living room only to find them in absurd places the next day. he puts one in the freezer, another in a garbage can. 

my small collection of novelty mugs makes it’s way into the kitchen, along of course, with my shot glasses. we decide to donate my coffee maker, as slade’s is bigger and still functional. 

at first we come to what seems like the logical conclusion that my bedroom items will go in his room; in the master bedroom. we put my bedframe in the basement, wrap the mattress for now and leave it leaning next to it. my sheet sets go in the closet, i add my pillows to his bed. 

my shampoo and my facial cleansers sit next to his in the bathroom, our toothbrushes resting in the holder. my cologne next to his. my clippers in the box under the cabinet, next to a tiered container holding make up. my nail polish nestles next to his beard trimmer. 

as the weeks go by, little by little i try to claim the offered spaces as my own. 

i wake up one day to find he’s changed the living room furniture, i’m not sure why, and he seems oddly evasive about it. he jokes something about one of the kids throwing a party once, someone leaving nasty stains. he always meant to replace it. 

he always meant to do a lot of things, he says. 

i realize we’re both being crushed by our own innate guilt, whether rational or not, and that all we’ve done is try to run away from it again. 

and of course, it hasn’t worked. it doesn’t work, it will never work, because you cannot run from these things. they are a train, and you cannot outrun a train. 

i find myself wide awake one night, the sound of him breathing softly and measured next to me, and i’m staring up in the dark at a still unfamiliar ceiling and i realize that nothing is right,

none of this is right, none of this fits. 

i am not, yet, accustomed to this new space. im unused to the noises of the house settling, the noises inside and out of it, and i lay there in the blinding dark desperately searching for something familiar to latch onto before i sink to the bottom 

and i find nothing. 

even his warm, solid form right next to me isn’t enough to tether me to the present and once again i’m overcome with the unalienable need to run. 

he finds me on the back porch hours later, having apparently rolled over and noticed my absence, half a pack of cigarettes butted in the ash tray next to me, another one trailing smoke into the sky from my hand. i am still not calm enough to speak, and knowing that i will have to feels like a vice on my chest.  

my mind races to prepare answers, the raging urge of self-preservation steering towards the right answers, and the correct answers, and the answers the other party wants to hear, and it is a habit i never foresee myself breaking. 

the entire time i am screaming at myself to stop because it’s not necessary and it is not appropriate. and logically, i know this. my brain acknowledges the commands yet tells me so sorry there’s nothing we can do to stop this, it’s a train after all. 

he picks out a cigarette of his own, gently pulling the lighter from between the fingers on my other hand. he sits down on the edge of my seat, to my right of course, always to my right and the side he can see from. he exhales a lungful of smoke and for a few moments, the questions don’t come. 

my brain stops misfiring, the synapses all seeming to come to a stop as they compare now to then and finally decide, yes 

yes we can stop now. 

yes, you were right, now is not the same as then. 

a semblance of control returns to my body as he reaches behind me to lean on the back of the chair. 

“where’d you go?” he asks, casually, simply. as if that’s the most logical question to ask, as if that makes perfect sense, and i almost want to scream

because it absolutely is.  

and yet, even still, “what?” is all i can choke out, and i know my attempt to cover it with a cough from the cigarette is as see through as glass, but i do it anyway.

“you went somewhere,” he says, tapping ash. his fingers trail up my back, coming to rest at the nape of my neck, his thumb rubbing circles against my hairline. 

“i...i don’t know,” i say, and i want to cry all over again because of how far away and how small i sound. 

“hm,” is all he responds with. he nudges me with a knee, and i slide over and allow him to sit fully. i stub out my cigarette and immediately reach for another one, and he flicks the lighter and doesn’t comment on the chain smoking and for several minutes we say nothing. 

i know he’s waiting on me to invite him in. to give a cue, a sign that yes i’m fine now and yes i will be fine and yes i will give you a new list of all my problems and you can find out how to fix them, because that’s what you constantly try to do, because that’s all you know how to do, even to the point of creating problems just so you can solve them.  

and i cannot give him that because i know deep, deep within the most choked off parts of myself that there are just things that cannot, will not be fixed. 

and they cannot be run from, either. 

but they can accommodated. they can be unearthed and they can be tended to and they can be allowed to breathe and perhaps if i stop trying to strangle myself into the submission of others, i could get a foothold in my own mind. 

“could you maybe...move my bed and some of my stuff in the basement to one of your spare bedrooms?” i ask, and i hope that the fearfulness i’m feeling at daring to ask for something to be done for my comfort isn’t drowning my words. 

he lets out a smoky sigh, tilting his head back and looking up at the stars as he brushes his fingers against my steaming cheek. 

“i forgot how much you need a space of your own,” he says. my brain, still partially controlled by ghosts pulling on the strings of trauma, searches desperately for anything in his voice to justify the panic. for the annoyance, the exasperation, the condemnation, 

and yet there is nothing to find. 

“of course,” he says, “we can clear out one of the spare bedrooms and we can move as much of your stuff into it as you need.” 

he stresses all the right words in all the right ways so that it doesn’t come across as sarcastic or demeaning in response to my obvious needs and for a moment i could swear i black out as everything that i’ve fought for so long to snuff out explodes into sparks. 

i drop my cigarette at one point, completely unaware i’ve done it as i lean forward and press my head into his chest, fingers coiling into his shirt and he slips an arm around my waist and tugs me closer, leaning me against his hip in what feels like a practiced motion that he’s done hundreds of times.  

“i’m sorry,” i say, breathing the words into him. 

“that’s fine,” he says. “you’re fine.” 

“i know,” i say. 

we fall into silence for a while, interrupted only when i hear him sniffing, and for a moment i think is he crying too, now? did i start this?  then suddenly he’s swearing, jumping out of the chair and nearly knocking me to the porch, and i’m so startled all i can do is blink like a confused animal as i register the smell of smoldering wood.

“your cigarette is burning a hole in the porch,” he says, stepping away to turn the light on. 

and as i watch him go to reflexively grind the cigarette out with his foot, stopping when he realizes he’s not wearing shoes to turn and grab one of my boots from our shoe stand just outside the door, i can’t stop the laughter that bubbles up from my core. 

i hear a train whistle in the distance, and i can’t make out if it is a real whistle, or my auditory wiring misfiring, and i don’t care. i’ll ask him tomorrow, if there’s train tracks somewhere nearby, because it settles in the back of my mind that there will be a tomorrow, and a day after, and a day after that, and it wraps around me like a fuzzy jacket. 

he offers a hand and i take it, and it slips down to my waist as he leads me back inside. 

“you know, you don’t have to try to burn our house down to get my attention,” he says as the door slides shut behind us, and there’s the faintest hint of a smile on his lips as he speaks. i catch sight of the moonlight streaming in behind him, and it imposes on my eyes the sight from what feels like so long ago, 

the sun light beaming down on him in a florida parking lot as he looks down to grab for the dog’s leash, a stranger in my home saving my only friend from running head first into traffic while hunting a lone lizard

and i think what are the odds, 

that then is, in fact, so similar to now. 

[hardytoms]

Rules: Answer the questions at the bottom, then make up 10 of your own for the next person to answer.

tagged by @burgessinthestreets and @nightcourtfury​ so I’m doing both of their sets of questions :) Putting it under a read more - sorry if you’re on mobile! I’m not tagging anyone (if you want to do any of these feel free to just pick a random 10 and say I tagged you! I’d love to read your answers!) but I wanted to answer these because they were fun

Carla’s Questions

1. Nature vs. Nurture and why? Both. Stories of twins growing up separately but having the same personality traits and likes/dislikes is really interesting to me (a flimsy rationale for nature but it’s been many years since I’ve taken a college level psychology course that talks about this hahaha) but also I think nurture has a HUGE effect on personalities. People choose how they want to act ultimately and that’s 100% affected by their environments

2. What is your interior design aesthetic? tbh i just want a lot of plants and some semblance of organization. also hardwood floors and big windows 

3. What is your biggest fear? my family and friends dying

4. Pancakes or French toast? french toast 10000%

5. The sciences or the arts? both! also are they really mutually exclusive?

6. Government: should it be big or small? S M A L L

7. Your least favorite chore? doing the dishes

8. What is your Achilles heel (what would be your downfall)? my need to be there and be a constant source of support for everyone all the time

9. The traits you find the most deplorable in others? (aside from the obvious -ism’s/-gyny’s) no sense of loyalty, liars, lack of compassion 

10. Five things you love about yourself? my sense of humor, my strength, my eyes, my hair, my compassion

Kristine’s Questions

1. If you had to wear only one color for the rest of your life which would you choose? omg black

2. A song you play during roadtrips? pfft Life is a Highway NEXT

3. One place you would love to visit? If I wasn’t going to Ireland in April I’d say that but otherwise Norway and Banff !!

4. Favorite greek mythology story/character? Anything surrounding Hades is good shit so for characters probably him but story-wise Achilles and Odysseus probably! Pandora’s is a v good story too

5. Favorite quote? “When I was a boy and I would see scary things in the news, my mother would say to me, ‘Look for the helpers. You will always find people who are helping.’”

“The problem, often not discovered until late in life, is that when you look for things in life like love, meaning, motivation, it implies they are sitting behind a tree or under a rock. The most successful people in life recognize, that in life they create their own love, they manufacture their own meaning, they generate their own motivation. For me, I am driven by two main philosophies, know more today about the world than I knew yesterday. And lessen the suffering of others. You’d be surprised how far that gets you.”

“Do all the good you can. By all the means you can. In all the ways you can. In all the places you can. At all the times you can. To all the people you can. As long as ever you can.” 

“How you make others feel about themselves says a lot about you.”

I HAVE SO MANY I CANT CHOOSE JUST ONE

6. A favorite book that you find yourself rereading over and over again? harry potter is my number one

7. Best movie series to marathon? LORD OF THE RINGS

8. What is one thing you keep saying you’re going to try? fucking learning how to do embroidery

9. One makeup item you carry with you always? does chapstick count??? i dont carry any makeup with me unless im going out and if i am then its whatever lip color im wearing!

10. Any advice? be fuckin nice to people

[specialsnowflakecentral]

hello! it is me again and im finally sucking it up and i finally got the courage to ask for a critique on the anatomy and clothing folds! (also sorry abt the linework i can do more refined lines than that but i made this rlly late)

Hello! Kudos for getting the courage to submit a critique, I understand that’s always daunting, so without further ado, let’s deliver! 

Ok ignoring the shaky lines, the most glaring issue is the anatomy, it looks pudgy and is inflated where it should not be. Her feet look like monkey’s feet, which may be deliberate(?) But for this, I’ll assume human feet were attempted. So let's break it down to specifics.

You will notice in this example, how there is a notable indent around the Achilles area, before leading up to sloping calf muscles. In your drawing, her calf’s slope down an inch below the knee as opposed to sitting right under it. The thighs down to the knee look alright- though with the mismatched calf it looks off, the shin is always a good slant beneath the knee (like so) unless it has extra fat upon it, or is posed like this. Legs slope downwards before curving into the feet.

Now the feet. As stated earlier they look like primate feet.  Which given the character? Doesn’t make sense nor does it look good to be balanced on such hand like feet due to the height, and assumed weight. Human feet have a long slope before descending into generally short toes. The Ankle, heel, and the pad of the foot are very much undefined- if not none existent in your drawing and the result leaves much to desire. Now the nails, as yours are positioned on the toes, I will assume they are not claws but sharp nails- in which case they curl up and off without even sitting on the toes in your drawing.

A quickly thrown together example at an odd angle, but you can see the sharp nails curl over the toe and act like sharpened nails, and not claws.

Moving upwards... The crotch/ stomach area. Judging by the lack of folds on the pants and the general tightness, I’ll assume leggings were used. Now with leggings-despite the stereotype, they don’t outline your crotch nearly as much as predicted, a vague outline but not a camel toe (depending on the material and if its a good fit). Like so. Leggings don’t have many folds or not large ones, a little light v line sits around the hips and a few lines on the bottom, otherwise without movement, standing still there is not many lines. (again it depends on the material) 

The stomach/hip/chest ratio is off. It looks as if there’s a big ball there. Fat generally slopes downward as you’ll see here  there is an indent between the waist and hips, something your drawing has delayed to just under the breast Her stomach is set too high up. The arms are also far too chunky in all the wrong places to seem reasonable compared to her general body ratio as well as the one arm just disappearing behind the pants. The critique with the toe nails applies to the finger nails. Unless you are actively drawing claws which, sharp nails are still nails.

The shoulder and collarbone are not aligned comfortably to the neck-which stretches uncomfortably up the crop top. There is a defined muscle between the neck and shoulders as you can see.

The crop top’s folds slope around the anatomy, but that isn’t a good thing.Crop tops do not have a great amount of folds around the front save for outlining your chest and generally curve up from your arm pit. Like So x, x  They are not cut in half t-shirts ( unless your character has personally done that)  and their weight of folds and position sits a lot differently.

Finally the face. To be blunt it looks like a cat, territory you don’t want for a humanoid. The mouth is too large and cuts right over the cheeks and sits right under the nose. The nose is alright but too big for the size of the face.  3d face topology guides serve as an odd but useful reference for how the face should be held together so that eyes aren’t flying into your forehead. As example. Example 2 The horns and hair leave no space for the forehead and skull and the effect is creepy. Hair should always compliment a face, and one should take the skull into consideration. The jaw also merges right on the neck which in turn leaves the ears looking off. The ears are alright but given the tiny face + skull it does not compliment it and sits way too high up on the forehead. One tip about the hair; Hair is not fur. While it can be a stylistic choice, generally hairs should not poke out like fur without copious amounts of gel or bed hair- which given the hair style does not make sense.

Anyway I hope this helped! 

- Mod Elf Fucker