#i would just like to see how Artemy handles getting called slurs no one has ever been called before by a 12 year old

[notsosecretstash]

Pathologic AU where everything is the same but Sticky is replaced with Cuno.

Inspired by me accidentally picturing Cuno every time someone mentions Sticky.

[boisoup-blog]

something more than a favour, chapter 1  /  READ ON AO3 fandom: Assassin’s Creed Odyssey pairing: Brasidas/Kassandra additional tags: everyone lives au, fake marriage au, unrequited feelings

The nature of the favour was peculiar but, when he asked, she agreed with no questions asked. He assured her that he would only call the favour in when absolutely necessary, “you have my word,” he had promised. However, Kassandra knows what Sparta is like, a little bit too set in it’s ways but it works, normally. So when Brasidas had finally called in the favour, (“the Kings are threatening my position as General,” his letter had said) Kassandra knew that he had worked to hard to have his position taken due to an age old tradition.

So she married him.

Kassandra was, to put it simply, nervous. Her palms were sweaty, her breath uneven and heart thumping a little faster than it probably should. This was the least nerve wracking experience, riding Phobos through the gates of Sparta; what’s making her nervous is who’s waiting for her. Brasidas. He had finally called in a favour that had been in the back of her mind, collecting dust, about 6 months ago.

The nature of the favour was peculiar but, when he asked, she agreed with no questions asked. He assured her that he would only call the favour in when absolutely necessary, “you have my word,” he had promised. However, Kassandra knows what Sparta is like, a little bit too set in it’s ways but it works, normally. So when Brasidas had finally called in the favour, ( “the Kings are threatening my position as General,” his letter had said) Kassandra knew that he had worked to hard to have his position taken due to an age old tradition.

So she married him. She wasn’t going to get married anyway. Her Mater wasn’t exactly pleased with the reasoning behind the union, whereas Nikolaus was ecstatic, providing Brasidas would keep his oaths as a Husband and Kassandra would give them grandchildren. ( “One day,” Nikolaus had added when Kassandra glared at him and Brasidas looked away from his Future Father-in-Law, probably unhappy with the idea of children.)

Phobos finally stopped outside of Brasidas’ house--- well, their house. Kassandra got out of the saddle, took a deep breath and entered their home, where Brasidas was sat at the head of the table, writing on parchment. He only looked up when his wife closed the door behind her.

“Ah, welcome back Kassandra, I trust Messara was fruitful?” Brasidas stood up and braced her shoulder with his hand with a small squeeze and a friendly smile upon his lips. Kassandra’s heart sped up again, as she tried to push down all too real feelings for her law bound, but ultimately fake marriage.

“It was nothing my sword could not handle,” she answered smuggly, patting the hand on her shoulder as she moved away from his grasp, removing the weapon belts from around her waist, hanging them on a hook near the door. One thing she did truly appreciate about Brasidas as a husband, he did not stop her from gallivanting around the Aegean Sea and she could virtually come and go as she pleased. There were only a reasons Kassandra had to be present for, unfortunately, King Archidamus wanted to honour the union between Brasidas and the misthios and was getting impatient due to her extended absences. “Have you heard anything from Archidamus?”

“ King Archidamus, my love.” Brasidas corrected, sitting back in front of his parchment, face almost buried in his work, “and yes, he will dine with us in three nights, the new King, Agesipolis, is giving him some trouble.”

Kassandra was still recovering from the pet name, my love, pretending to dust off her blades as they hung from hook . He did this sometimes, she thought it was so that he could get into the mindset that they were in fact married, not just friends, after all, they were going to try and deceive Archidamus into believing that their marriage was, in fact, real. However, the stutter in her heart was silenced, and she continued the conversation. “I almost feel sorry for Agesipolis,” she admitted, sitting in the chair opposite Brasidas, her elbows on the table, “at least we don’t have to think about the cult anymore.”

(Kassandra never told anyone but Barnabas the Ghost’s real identity, it was the last kindness for someone who helped Kassandra find her family, despite what they did to the Greek world. Although Barnabas liked to tell stories, he also knew when to keep things to himself.)

Brasidas looked up again from his letter and said, “no, we won’t.”

The first night they stayed in the same house, they drank wine until their sentences were slurred and they couldn’t walk in a straight line. That night, as they drank, Kassandra told him everything she had done, from surviving the fall from Mt. Taygetos, to holding a lifeless Phoibe in her arms. Brasidas had sat in silence as she went on and on, going through the motions of anger and sadness. He embraced her that night, and told her that the Cult would never hurt her again, not as long as they were married. Although, she was very drunk at the time and can’t recall whether he actually embraced her or if she imagined it.

Later that night, Kassandra went to bed first, wrapped herself up in the blanket, relishing in the luxury of bedding and hoping she’d fall asleep before the other Spartan came to bed. It wasn’t their first time sharing a bed and it wouldn’t be the last time either. Unfortunately sleep did not embrace her quick enough and it did nothing good to her heart and her libido.

Lying on her back, staring at the ceiling trying to count sheep, movement by through the door urged her look down, seeing a full dressed Brasidas enter the room. Fortunately, it seemed like he hadn’t noticed that she was still awake as he unbuckled his cuirass, and lifted it over his head. Kassandra saw the red tunic, that Brasidas wore under his armour, lift a little too high as it got snagged on the cuirass, grazing over his thigh so she could see the hem of his linen underwear---- she swiftly turned on her side, away from Brasidas and temptation.

Just as she got comfortable on her side, she felt the sheet peel back just a little and heard Brasidas shift his weight as he slipped under the sheet. It seemed as if his back was towards her, judging by the way the sheet spread between the two of them.

It was too easy to share a bed with the Spartan General, she always felt too safe, too comfortable and Hypnos always pulled her in just a little too deep. But right now, the image of the red tunic was burned into her memory, his toned thighs, his skin darkened by the sun but most likely flecked with scars and freckles, either way, she just wanted to see what would happen if the tunic went up even further.

Then she remembers the marriage is fake, any feelings are probably a fake, and all she has to do is survive another three nights so she can return to the Andrestia and sail away.

Brasidas was nervous, sleeping next to a woman he frequently likens to Athena and Artemis. He always knew that she was only here as a favour to him but, a small part of him hoped that she was here for something more than the favour. Either way, he knew his love was unrequited (her reaction to him accidentally calling her my love is proof enough of how she sees him, as just a friend,) and, there’s no Spartan military tactic he can apply to be victorious in this situation.

He lay on his side, awake for an unknown amount of time. The General guessed that Kassandra was asleep behind him, she seemed to get go of her strangle grip on the sheet and he could hear her breathing gently and evenly. They’d been in the same bed enough times for him to know when she’s asleep. He carefully peeled back his half of the bedding, trying to slip out of the bed as quietly as possible.

Brasidas didn’t bother with his armour as he left the house, toeing on his sandals as he left their home to walk around Sparta. This was becoming a tradition, to steal away from their shared bed on the first night she returned. To clear my thoughts, he tells himself every time, which is true but, the content of the thoughts differ every time. Sometimes he thinks about professing his love, waking her up with kisses, and other times, he thinks about asking her to end their marriage, the pain of it not being real almost too much to handle.

Regardless, he considers every thought selfish. If he professes his love, it’s selfish, if he asks her to leave, it’s selfish; both ways preserve his feelings and takes none of hers into account.

He returns to their room after a walk around the Temple of Artemis Orthia, his mind cleared and his eyes heavy. He toed off his sandals and slipped back into the sheets, unaware that Kassandra had stirred until she spoke, “you went for a walk again?”

Any tiredness Brasidas had acquired had vanished, replaced by the shock of one, she’s awake and two, she knows about the midnight walks. He was speechless, just for a moment, before answering, “yes, I had to clear my thoughts.” He was lying on his back, staring up at the ceiling, his breath a little uneven, made noticeable by the sheet moving on top of him.

He heard Kassandra shift, then her breath on his shoulder, as she asked, “which thoughts?” She was obviously half asleep, her voice quieter and softer than usual. Brasidas tilted his head towards her, seeing her eyes opening and closing slowly, as if she was fighting to stay awake to hear his thoughts. “If they’re guilty thoughts, I’m great at those,” she murmured with a small but sad smile on her face, “it’s either you or them, you do what you have to do to survive.”

Brasidas huffed, a little bewildered at how casually she rationalises killing, then again, he knows she has always lived in a kill or be killed world, even without the help of Sparta. “They are not guilty thoughts,” Brasidas explained, briefly looking back at the ceiling, “go back to sleep, we will talk in the morning.” He turned back to Kassandra and moved a piece of hair from her eyes. She hummed appreciated but ultimately, didn’t roll back to her side as she usually did.

Brasidas rolled on his side, first away from Kassandra and then towards her, but by that time, she was back asleep, lips open slightly as she breathed evenly. He gazed at her for a few minutes before he too closed his eyes and fell asleep.

[mysillylittlewritings]

Drinking Excessively

This is just fun, was fun to writeee :p My consultant says so anywayzz, enjoyy ^^ P.s. sorry it’s late, planning went askew ;/

So, another year, another end of year party. By now, you’d think you’d be used to the shenanigans these people get up to, but no, you do not. The League had a party for New Year’s Eve, and being the residential mom friend it fell on you to watch the rest of your team. Most were fairly old, but obviously not old enough to drink, but that didn’t stop them from stealing a few drinks from the eggnog, which someone, *cough* Dick *cough*, spiked. The joke was, everyone was drinking it, and since it had that extra umph, it went away quickly.  Turns out, when you don’t drink much, it takes very little to get you places, and now, the Team were all very drunk. It was hilarious, to be fair. Their motor skills were gone, and the speech slurred, and inhibitions were nowhere to be found. It was bad laughing at them, but everyone else was. Their mentors not caring one bit, as it was all just the League and the Team, so no one was to come to any harm. In a worst-case scenario, the adults would handle whatever threat that appeared, since they were decidedly not nearly as drunk. It was also hilarious to see how the personality of the people in the group changed. Turns out Wally’s a cryer, Kaldur cannot stop making dumb jokes, Dick has suddenly better moves than when sober, and Conner is surprisingly mellow. Artemis and M’gann both got what’s called “white girl wasted”, and proceeded to compliment everyone on everything, the kind where you’d pay to have around you on a bad day. With your responsible nature, you were decidedly less so drunk, and you figured it’d be a great idea to interact with them while they were in this state, blackmail material, you know?

You walked past Artemis and M’gann, who stopped you to give you a couple of complinments. “Oh, Y/N!” M’gann called, “You’re such a babe, I love you. You’re so smart and funny and caring!” Artemis picked up, “And such a good fighter. I mean, you just kick ass and take names girl.” That last word drawn out. M’gann resumed, “And your hair is just so pretty, and your eyes are like, very pretty.” And Artemis concluded with an “And your skin, hoo buy, it’s so smooth.” She finishes as she touches your face. Ok, enough now. “Aww, you guys, thank you so much, I love you guys so, so, so much!” You reply with a quick hug as you walk away, leaving those two to find their next victim.

You walk passed Conner, who’s sitting on the couch with some of the older heroes, and watch quietly for a moment as he just sits there, in the presence of Clark and no fight insight. Next you walk past Kaldur and a group consisting of Batman, Hal, and Hawkgirl. Hal was outright dying at one of the jokes Kaldur had just finished delivering, with Hawkgirl sniggering and Batman actually cracking a smile. ‘Good on you, Kaldur, making awesome impressions on the older guys.’ You think to yourself and keep going. You spot Dick in a group of female superheroes, with Diana and Dinah in the forefront, all laughing at Dick’s supposedly suave ways. You giggle and take notes of this, he’s what, like 14, hitting on some of the heaviest hitters the League has? ‘Amazing.’ You saw Wally sitting in a corner alone after you passed by Dick, ‘That’s odd, Wally’s usually the life of the party?’ You think and decide to go to him. “Hey Wally, what’s up?” You ask him as you sit down next to him. Technical mistake. You’re now stuck to him, as he latches onto you, bawling. “Y/N! do you know how much life I’ve taken?” He whines, rendering you shocked, he doesn’t kill, what did he mean? “Wally, buddy, what do you mean?” You ask him, dumbfounded.

“The grass Y/N! If Poison Ivy can control it, then it must have life. I trample on so many blades of grass.” He cries harder now, while you breathe lighter, for a smart kid, Wally sure was an idiot at times.

“Buddy, pal, Wally. That’s not how it works, sweetie.” You murmur to him, rubbing circles around his back. “The grass has no feelings, you’re not a mass murderer.”

“But Y/N! I stomp in it, and on so many little grasses, I’ve ruined families.” He’s not letting up, at all. ‘Shit.’ “Look, Wally…” You drop it, how do you convince a drunk Wally grass doesn’t actually have feelings. “Look, let me ask you this Wally, do leaves have feelings?” You ask him, hoping this put it into perspective.

“No,” Wally sniffles, “No, they don’t.”

“And what’s the difference between grass and leaves?” You ask him, “Nothing, is there?”

“No, I suppose not.” He replies, rubbing the heel of his hand to his eyes and takes a deep breath.

“And to the leaves feel pain when they fall from the trees in fall?” You continue.

“No, I suppose not.” He says hesitantly, with a small frown.

“Then the conclusion is,” You say triumphantly, “Grass does not feel pain, making you a non-murderer!”

“You’re right,” Wally says, picking up steam, “Then I am not a murderer!” He’s standing up and gives you a hand up. “Thanks, Y/N, you’re the best.” He says as he hugs you tightly, and runs of around the room, hollering about how he’s most decidedly not a murderer. You smile, and walk up to Batman, who at this point had split of from Kaldur and company to survey the room.

“So, Batman, tell me, there are security cameras around this place, right?” You ask him, he nods yes, “And they have audio, right?” He nods again, “So, I have all the proof this whole thing happened in the morning?” This time, he responds, “Yes, Y/N. You do.”

“Perfect, thank you.” You say, and walk towards the party, time to live this thing up, and hope the Team will make even more fools of themselves. Best party ever!