#like he PREFERS him over Achilles

[darlingsart]

Can not stop thinking about a modern au where Achilles has to keep Pyrrhus on one of those kid leashes bc he’s literally a little demon

[dimiclaudeblaigan]

Something that SEEERIOUSLY isn’t talked about enough among Rodrigue fans is how Rodrigue (almost? or generally) always refers to Dimitri as “Your/His Highness” except in the moment that Dimitri’s life was at risk right in front of Rodrigue and Rodrigue shielded him with his own body.

Rodrigue is always respectful and aware of their stations, but none of that matters when Dimitri is almost killed. Rodrigue reacts emotionally without station in mind, forgetting to refer to him in an “appropriate” manner and reacting instead in a more intimate manner (i.e. using a person’s name instead of their title).

Most people wouldn’t dare to refer to their prince by their first name, but Rodrigue forgets all that the moment Dimtiri is in danger. He follows up that familial intimacy by calling Dimitri “my boy”. In a way it’s like Rodrigue's formalities are just forced expectations that are ingrained into him, because his actual instinct is to refer to Dimitri in a familial way. If he doesn’t have time to think about what he’s saying, it will be Dimitri’s name that he uses because that’s how he truly thinks of Dimitri.

He doesn’t solely view Dimitri as his prince. He views Dimitri as family, and in a setting where royalty exists, it’s so important to the relationship in question when that societal expectation is broken, simply because it tells you exactly what that character thinks of their royalty.

When royalty’s life is in danger, it would even make sense for people to hesitate because if they do anything, they might also be in danger and generally humans instinctually prioritize their own life (even if they do really want to step in to help). That typically is not the case with humans regarding loved ones, where that instinct instead changes to an instinct where they automatically step in to protect people dear to them - especially parents to their children. Parents - not just in humans but in most forms of life (cats, dogs, etc) - are extremely protective of their children and react without a second - even a first - thought, because it’s not a thought at all when they see their children in danger. It’s a base reaction.

Rodrigue wasn’t witnessing his prince being attacked. He was witnessing his son being attacked, and he reacted as a father would - not as a knight, a vassal or anyone under Dimitri’s station and how they would be expected to react to protect him. Dimitri didn’t have to be his blood son for him to react the same way a blood parent would. Dimitri wasn’t born to him but he was Rodrigue’s son all the same and he couldn’t accept his boy being harmed.

I love that his reaction is exactly the same as what Lambert would have done. I love that in that one moment when he didn’t have time to think about his word choice, such important stations meant absolutely nothing to him. I love that what was important to him was Dimitri the person, and not Dimitri the prince. I love that at the very end, he died knowing his boy was safe and alive. I love that, when he starts reusing “Your Highness”, it’s only after the immediate danger has passed and he has time to actually process his word choice again, because it really drives home how quickly and thoughtlessly he reacted to seeing Dimitri in danger when he dropped formalities to use his first name.

He also didn’t tell him to live for the people or live because he was a prince. He wanted Dimitri to remember to live for himself and likely died with the hope that those being his last words would be taken much more heavily and sincerely, and give Dimitri a lot to think about in regard to caring for himself as a person and not just seeing himself as a prince/future king, because Rodrigue also saw him as a person.

Not only did Rodrigue protect his son (which mind you must have been extremely important to him after already losing a son. Can you imagine how devastated he would be to lose another child? This time he saved a son from death, which he was unable to do previously and he wasn’t present to be able to even try), but he gave Dimitri the thing Dimitri desired the most from those he loved: he treated Dimitri like a regular person who needed to live his own life for himself, and in the single most critical moment to Rodrigue, forgot to use titles and formalities and openly expressed his true feelings just by using Dimitri’s name alone.

Dimitri never liked all those stuffy behaviors and titles. He just wanted to be a person. Rodrigue, his family, gave him that at Rodrigue’s very end, explicitly informing Dimitri that was how this man always thought of him just from that one moment of Rodrigue’s feelings slipping through. He was always keeping up appearances, but Dimitri was always just Dimitri to him.

Also, Rodrigue says “please tell me it wasn’t in vain”. Remember, Rodrigue’s son died in vain. Glenn didn’t actually get to protect Dimitri. Earlier, Rodrigue stated that Dimitri’s injuries left him on the verge of death. Glenn didn’t die protecting him. Glenn died in a tragedy. Nothing Glenn did that day that led to his death actually helped Dimitri survive. Dimitri survived because Gilbert found him in time.

Rodrigue knows that and doesn’t want another person dear to Dimitri to die a death that didn’t need to happen. He also doesn’t want it to be in vain because if it was, he would have died being unable to protect his son. Rodrigue “died for what he believed in”, but he died because he thoughtlessly, without hesitation, died to save his son. He believed in Dimitri, but he also believed Dimitri to be his child as much as Glenn and Felix ever were.

Even though Glenn did die in vain, he attempted to die keeping his best friend alive. He believed in his best friend, just like Lambert believed in his son to be able to saved if he ever went astray.

Before Rodrigue dies, he last thoughts are of Lambert, but also his promise to Lambert, which was about Dimtiri.

Rodrigue was always thinking of his family throughout the whole game (literally, he brings up Felix to Byleth regularly and brings up Glenn throughout the story as well), and that extended to Lambert and Dimtiri. At the very last, he literally died like he lived, and that was for his family.

[gay-dorito-dust]

Hello! Just wanted to say I absolutely love your writing! A bit of a request for the batboys (Jason, Tim, Dick, and Damian), just something silly.

I recently saw a video of a girl saying her boyfriend's entire name as if he was in trouble only for her to tell him she loved him. It was funny to me at the time, it was also late at night lol.

Soo... How would the boys react to reader suddenly saying their full name out of the blue as if they were in trouble as a prank? 👀👀🤭

Dick is thinking to death about what he might done to earn you saying his full name, so much so the poor man was sweating bullets which each step he took in your direction

Did he miss an anniversary?

Date night?

Hayley’s vet appointment?

He wanted to know badly so that he could think up a way to make it up to you however you wanted. Steal his clothes because they smell like him, he didn’t care, he just didn’t like you using his full name.

So as he looked you deep in the eyes, mentally preparing for whatever left your mouth, only for you to relax your face and kiss his cheek much to his surprise.

‘I love you.’ You told him sweetly as you smiled at him.

‘What?’ Dick said.

‘I love you.’ You repeated, still smiling.

‘That’s…that’s all you’ve called my full, legal government name for, to tell me you love me?’ Dick asked as though he was waiting for a joke that was never going to come.

‘Yep.’ You said.

‘No catch.’

‘None.’

‘Can you stop calling me Richard now and go back to calling me baby, cutie, dickie bird or -preferable- handsome now?’ Dick again asks as he felt a weight lift off of his shoulders and was finally able to breathe again now that his questions could finally be laid to sleep.

You chuckled as you kissed his lip. ‘Sure, whatever you say, handsome.’

Damian is unfazed.

He’s use to his full name being used and he doesn’t exactly feel anything but annoyance that he has to leave the piece he has spent the better half of a week working on, just to answer your call.

Damian loved you without a doubt but he’s not exactly fond of whenever you try to follow along these tasteless ‘trends.’ Though he knows himself well enough to know that he would never stay upset or mad at you for long, you were his weak spot, his treasure forever and always even if this is the things they kept you entertained.

‘I know you’re not saying my full name for any particular reason my treasure.’ He told you rather plainly.

‘And how would you know there isn’t a reason I called for you?’ You replied, crossing your arms over your chest. Damian copied.

‘Because I have a good memory and I haven’t missed any important date, that’s not until next week, that and the fact that I can see the muscles in your face struggling to keep the smile at bay.’ Damian said as he pointed out your biggest sign that you were lying about something.

You always involuntarily smiled when telling a lie the title made it far easier for Damian to know that what you were saying was far from the truth. It was your Achilles heel and Damian knew how to use it to his advantage.

‘I’m not.’ You said, struggling to stop the smile.

‘You are and you’re doing a bad job at it my sweet.’ He replied as he was now the one cockily smiling, knowing he’s got you where he wants you that you couldn’t do anything but crack under his stare.

‘Fine you loser, I only called you in here to say I love you, there happy?’ You asked as you pouted.

Damian walked over to you and pressed a kiss to your forehead. ‘All you had to do is say my treasure.’ Was all he said as he spent the rest of the day with you and Titus.

Jason is immediately in front of you within a heartbeat.

He, much like dick, didn’t like it when you use his full name.

You’re his partner! USE THE CUTE NICKNAMES YOU CHOSE FOR HIM INSTEAD! Who’s this Jason Todd? He only responds to Jaybird, jay jay, or baby with the occasional sweetheart from time to time.

‘Chipmunk, can you please tell me want I did wrong?’ Jason asked as he walked into the kitchen where you called him from.

You furrowed your brows. ‘Wrong? I only called you in here to tell you I love you.’ You replied as Jason started at you for a bit before he pinched your side, making you squeal.

‘You’re a little shit, you know that sweetheart.’ Jason asked as he kept pinching your sides, making you giggle and squeal in his hold. ‘Had me all worked up and everything.’ He adds as he starts biting your neck playfully.

‘I’m sorry! I’m sorry! Have mercy!’ You cried, trying to push yourself away from Jason but it was proven nearly impossible when your man was a literal wall of muscle.

‘’All I can hear as the squeaks of a cheeky little mouse.’ Is all Jason said as he continued to tickle, pinch at your sides. He hates it when you call him his full name, it reminded him of lesser then ideal times, sure it sounded far sweeter and loved when it was coming from you rather than theirs, but he’d much rather you call him anything it his full name.

Tim knows what you’re up to the very moment you use his full name.

His detective brain kicks into hyperdrive and goes into the logical explanation as to why the sudden change.

You’ve never used it before, so why now did you use it unless you had seen a cute trend or something that you thought was hilarious on TikTok, or on another social media platform and wanted to try it out for the sake of following whatever was the thing to do.

That or you were genuinely mad and he should at least go talk to you in hopes of de escalating the situation, should it come to it.

‘I love you.’ You said.

‘You’ve said my full name, lured me out of my room, just to say I love you?’ Tim asked with a raised brow as though his heart wasn’t going nuts once again with how much your words easily affected him.

You paused for a brief moment before smiling. ‘Yeah sounds about right.’

Tim sighs but he couldn’t help but feel a smile creep up on his lips. ‘You’re ridiculous sometimes I swear.’ He says under his breath, ‘you almost had me second guessing myself there but I’m glad this is what you called me out for instead.’ He finished as he pressed his forehead against your own, feeling relaxed and clear minded once more.

‘You may say I’m ridiculous but you love it when I keep you on your toes, it’s like a brain exercise in a way.’ You cheekily told him as you kissed his cheek.

‘You call that a brain exercise?’ Tim said. ‘That was barely a brain activity but more like a brain fart if anything.’ He said as you pouted and smacked his bicep, causing him to smile.

‘We can’t all be smart asses like you drake.’ You said and Tim shrugged as he tugged you close.

‘True but you certainly are a pain in the ass.’ Tim replied, which only made you slap his bicep again as he chuckled and you bury your head into his neck.

[ellieslaces]

NOTHING’S GONNA HURT YOU, BABY.

featuring: leon kennedy x fem!agent!reader x ashley graham

synopsis: ashley graham's biggest weakness is attractive people, especially kind, attractive people. she was not expecting to be saved by two of the hottest, kindest people she'd ever met, much less to end up crushing on the both of them

content warnings: harsh language; mentions of violence; tension; lots of flirtatious banter; ashley shooting her shot for an entire fic basically; mentions of reader being bisexual; light smut; kissing (f!f & f!m); one bed trope; forced proximity; no real smut bc idk how to write a threesome :(

notes: takes place on the way back from Spain (technically post RE4R); one bed-ish trope (r&leon share a bed, and a room with ashley); ashley is sort of confused about her sexuality; semi-established relationship (r&leon); really more of a sibling dynamic between ashley and leon (it sounds weird, but its balanced in the actual fic, i promise)

word count: 6.13k (i’m so sorry)

chloe talks: was this entirely inspired by @postersofleon ? yeah, i read this post a week or so ago and i'm losin' sleep over it. so full credits to @postersofleon for the plot! luv their lil' drabble :) also, sorry this isn't more of a threesome fic. if it were a triple female threesome, i could work with that, but add a dick into it, i'm clueless. anyways, enjoy ashley fumbling for this whole fic (luv her, i just can't help embarrassing her shes so cute). also, please appreciate this, i wrote around 80% of this while i was supposed to be studying for an exam. that’s on adhd and procrastination :)

now playing: Nohings Gonna Hurt You Baby; Cigarettes After Sex

It is entirely possible that blondes were, indeed, your weakness. Sure, over the years, you'd come to realize there was something especially alluring about lighter hair - possibly the way it reminded you of the sun, or how each strand looked like spun gold. Although, what seemed to seal your fate was the ever dangerous pairing of blonde hair and blue eyes. Oh, how alluring and damning was the color of icy blue coupled with silvery, silken strands.

For a time, you believed your weakness was encompassed only within your field partner, Leon S. Kennedy. God, how handsome was that agent. Not only handsome, but brave, and kind - awkwardly so, but it really is the principle of the thing. It was painstakingly obvious to everyone, other than Leon it seemed, that you were completely and forlornly in love with him. It seemed you were equally as blind to the evidence that Leon Kennedy was also miserably in love with you.

But the one person who noticed it upon first glance was Ashley Graham. Not only for the clear obviousness of the situation, but because the feeling was entirely, and unfortunately mutual. And it was this girl who also awoke the realization within you that Leon was not the only blonde-haired, blue-eyed person you found enticing.

Though, you were not the only one in this clandestine triad who had an impending weakness for certain types of people. No, you were not, Ashley had an Achilles heel for graciously kind people. Not just kind, but attractive. Not in a shallow or superficial way, but to say more that a person would catch her eye. She had no pre-existing physical type - no particular hair color, eye color, or even height preference. Just that they be kind. And much to the First Daughter's dismay, you were both horribly kind. In your own respective ways, of course.

Leon — as aforementioned — was awkwardly kind, despite how well he meant. He never knew exactly how to word his concern, or how to come about comforting someone. It was usually said in simple phrases such as “you okay?” or in way of one of many snarky comments he had stored in the deep recesses of his mind. Ashley thought he was funny; sometimes.

You, on the other hand, were painfully sweet to her. Always reassuring her that she was okay, and you were going to keep her safe. Field medic, that’s how Leon explained your role in her rescue. You were there to keep her and Leon healthy and in one piece, which you were startlingly good at. Any bruise or cut she procured was immediately treated by your sweet disposition and skilled hands. She liked how gentle you were with her.

So yes, Leon was kind in an awkward manner, and you were kind in a practical sense. And that devastating combination was her inevitable downfall.

From the moment you and Leon found her in that church, she knew she was fucked. Because, how could people look that good while doing the sort of jobs you had? There was no way, no way she would ever be able to form coherent sentences around you two. But, somehow, by some miracle, she got on with you both quite well. Despite the obvious moments of third-wheel-ism because you and Leon were so close.

There where multiple reoccurring occasions where Ashley suspected the pair of you may be together. Or at least fucking on the side. Because no two people who are just partners have that dynamic. The constant tension, the way Leon could be protective or even overbearing sometimes. The way you would rush to his side to patch up his wounds — no matter how small and minuscule they were — after a fight. Sometimes, despite how endearing it could be, Ashley was annoyed. Sure, you two had known each other for an extended period of time and had just met Ashley that day. But, it became so aggravating when you would consult each other without the inclusion of Ashley.

Many times you would apologize to her, expressing how sorry you were for leaving her out of conversations or hypothetical battle plans. It wasn’t that either of you thought she was stupid or couldn’t handle it. No, it was more along the lines that you were used to it just being the two of you. There was rarely ever a third party involved — other than Hunnigan chatting away in your ear pieces of course — in these types of situations.

Ashely was smitten, to put it lightly. She’d made several attempts to quote-unquote ‘shoot her shot’ with Leon. Little comments of how brave he was, how thankful she was for his saving her. Even calling him her ‘hero’ on one occasion or another. His name had posted permanent residence in her vocabulary it seemed.

However, her means of flattery with you was completely different. She was a little more bold with you, seeing as you were more of an open person than Leon was. She partook in the cliche, yet never failing flirtatious mannerisms — simple touches, giggling at your jokes, or simply sticking to your side in dangerous situations. It wasn’t that you didn’t notice, no, you just turned a conscious blind eye to it all. Ashley was a college girl, a sorority girl, a privileged girl. She was probably used to using flattery to get what she wanted, to gain the attention she so desperately thrived on.

Though as your time in the hostile Spanish village went on, you came to realize that it wasn’t superficial, Ashley’s flattery toward you and your field partner. Absolutely not, far from it. You realized after Leon had carried her to Luis’ laboratory and you managed to get the machine working to expel the parasite from her body, that Ashley was totally and completely smitten with the pair of you. She was attached in the worst way. And that would be your inevitable downfall.

Leon was consciously blind to it. Your partner — no matter his selfless tendencies and his awkwardly kind nature — was melancholic. He had a firm belief he was predestined to be miserable. That there was always another shoe waiting to drop. He didn’t deserve happiness, peace, love, a good life. So, he ignored it. He ignored how Ashley was equally as taken with him as she was with you. He didn’t bring it up, he didn’t even act like he noticed. Oh, but you did.

You saw the attachment so clearly by the time the three of you had managed to escape the crumbling island via Ada Wong’s gifted jet ski that Ashely was so attached to the pair of you. She’d offered positions on her own personal detail to you, claiming she could put a word in with her father. Denials were made, kind smiles and the shaking of heads. Too kind of an offer and you liked your jobs, is what you’d told her. That wasn’t at all what you were thinking though.

Post a Hunnigan meltdown over your earpieces, the three of you were told to stay the night in a shabby, rundown little local hotel in a larger town a couple dozen miles south of the village. Still in Spain, still tired, still craving a warm shower. One room, two beds. Great, one of you was stuck sleeping with someone. Ashely offered for one of you to have a bed to yourself, she’d sleep with the other. Not a great idea. You and Leon — having spent many awkward and difficult missions together, so this was not strange to either one of you — decided on giving Ashley a bed to herself and taking the other together

If you’d been alone, oh how your lovestruck little heart would have burst. Sharing a bed with Leon Kennedy, the object of your affection. The sole performer in your wildest — and wettest — dreams. But you weren’t alone. Ashley was in the room, a matter of feet away, in her own double sized bed.

If she hadn’t been — to be vulgar and completely honest — nothing would have stopped you from fucking him then and there. The tension between the pair of you had been growing thicker since your arrival in Spain. It was thick, painfully so, and also horrifically obvious not only to you, but yet again, to Ashley. For the longer stretch of the mission, she’d expected a grand confession at any moment. A breakdown caused by a dangerous situation that ensued a moment of emotional and even physical vulnerability. But, to her dismay and yours, that never happened. Because, above all things, Leon was professional for a lack of a better word. He wasn’t going to allow his emotions to jeopardize the mission.

And so no breakdown of emotional distress and vulnerability played out. No confession of hearts bleeding for the other were cried out. Part of you was glad it hadn’t happened that way. But the larger part of your soul which was dedicated to Leon had wished it had. You longed for the day he realized he needed you too. But, to maintain professionalism and dignity, neither of you made such admissions.

Warm showers were taken in rotation in the tiny excuse for a bathroom. The shower was small and permanently stained with grime, but really was clean as the owner swore. The shower head was one of the older ones from the seventies that made the water come out in a dribble, then a forceful rainfall that hurt your back. The toiletries provided by the hotel were small and cheap, but you were clean. That’s all that mattered.

Sans dried blood and grime, you sat on Ashley’s bed, cross legged as you patched up each one of her injuries. Ashley had been the first to shower, after a fifteen minute debate with the two of you over who should go first. She had a few bandages and exposed scrapes that needed to be re-cleaned. So, with gentle hands you did so as Leon took use of his turn to shower.

“Looks good, no signs of infection so far. But, like I said before, I can’t tell too much without the right equipment.” You reassured Ashely as you finished patching up a cut on her arm and began to put your first aid kit back together.

“Thanks,” Ashley nodded, inspecting her scrape riddled skin. Small bruises and surface cuts were beginning to make their appearance, telltale signs of the brutality the three of you had endured in that village.

“Let me know if you feel feverish or see any swelling. That could mean infection.” You offered, being kind but stern.

“‘Kay,” the girl nodded, smiling up at you as you let out a sigh, leaning back on your hands on the bed.

You looked at her, smiling softly as your head tilted to the side a little. “Need me to kiss it better?”

At this, Ashley’s eyes went wide, her cheeks dusted with pink. You felt a little bad then, you just tried to ease the tension. “S’okay, Ashley. I was just playing.” You laughed, your tone lighthearted as you placed a gentle hand on her knee with an equally gentle smile.

It seemed the touch was worst than the comment. Ashley’s entire face went aflame, her eyes wide, and large as she stared at you. An uneasy ache settled in your chest, uncertainty lingering in the air as your smile faded. The initial shock between the pair of you didn’t last long as the door to the bathroom swung open.

“Jesus, you could’ve left me some hot water.” Leon grumbled as he stepped out into the room, lips downturned and brows etched in an annoyed frown.

The three of you were now paused as Leon’s eyes fell on you and Ashely — or more-so on the hand that rested on Ashley’s knee. Reality seemed to snap into place all at once for you, yanking your hand back and standing up.

“Let me check you out.” You mumbled, clearing your throat as you picked up the first aid kit and took residence on your own bed.

“No, I’m fine. Check on Ashley,” Leon shook his head, damp blond strands sticking to his forehead.

“Already did. Just finished. Your turn, whether you like it or not.” You stated, your tone final as you looked up at Leon, brows raised.

The agent let out a huff of agitation, grumbling something indiscernible as he sat down on the bed beside you. You began to gently inspect Leon's wounds- some small, others more intense. Despite his prior hesitation to be taken care of, he was stoic about it all. He sat still, unmoving, silent as you worked to disinfect and cover each wound with fresh bandages. The silence in the room was loud, startlingly uncomfortable as you patched Leon up.

A quick glance over at Ashley as you finished bandaging a deep cut that you'd quickly stitched up on the field showed her wide eyes. Wide baby blue focused on the way your fingers gently worked, how graceful and careful they were again the alabaster tone of Leon's skin.

"Doing okay over there, blondie?” Leon inquired, a small smirk playing on his face as he spotted Ashley's startling gaze on the wounds decorating his skin. He had mistook her fascination of your hands as nervousness of his wounds. But you knew. You could tell what her gaze meant.

"Oh, yeah. M'fine." Ashley recovered very quickly, to your surprise. Well, maybe it wasn't just your hands that had her enraptured, Leon was sitting on the bed, shirtless.

"Alright, hero-boy, all better." You smiled at Leon as you patted his bicep - earning a small, almost inaudible grumble from him - and moving to close your medical kit. You stood, tucking away in your pack and let out a sigh. "’Kay, l for one, am fucking exhausted."

“Yeah, me too,” Ashely murmured, an aura of discomfort still radiating from her. She offered a kind, if not awkward smile to the pair of you before settling into the bed, pulling the overs over her shoulders. “G’night.”

“‘Night,” you smiled, shuffling over to the bed you and Leon were sharing. You sat down on the edge, eyes trained on the back of Ashley’s head — the blonde hair, how it shimmered against the dim light of the single lamp in the room. You felt almost as if you weren’t really there.

“Need me to check you?” Leon asked, snapping you back to reality. You jolted a bit, looking at him from over your shoulder.

“Oh, nah, I’m okay.” You shook your head, clearing your throat as you settled into the bed, flicking off the lamp.

“Okay,” Leon shrugged, getting into the bed too, still in just a pair of pants. Everyone was in the barest of clothing. You in a tank top and underwear — Ashely in the same. It was all you had. All your clothes were soiled with dirt, and grime, and blood.

Thinking of nothing in particular, you laid there, staring up at the ceiling of the dark room. The walls creaked every once in a while, odd drafts filtered in from cracks in the ceiling or from the window. It was too quiet. And it stayed that way for a long while.

“Everything okay with Ashley?” Leon asked, his voice quiet, as not to wake the subject of conversation.

“Yeah, everything’s fine.” You mumbled back, turning your head. He, too, was on his back. Both of you too afraid to face each other in bed, seeming too personal. “Why?”

“Just making sure.” His response was quiet, a little too nonchalant, as if he’d forced it to be casual. “It was awkward earlier.”

“Earlier?” You decided to play dumb, despite knowing that Leon wouldn’t believe it. He was well aware you knew what he was talking about. The touch. How Ashley had frozen when you’d touched her leg.

“Whatever, play stupid.” He scoffed with a half smile — a knowing smile. The bastard. “Just saying, she seems attached to you.”

“Oh, and she’s not with you, her hero?” You bit back with a hint of humor. Your voices were still low, hoping Ashely was asleep — or she couldn’t hear you if she wasn’t.

Leon laughed quietly, a rough scoff sound that echoed in your ears. You smiled at little at that sound. “Whatever you say,”

You frowned, gaining the confidence to shuffle onto your side, facing him as you contemplated what that simple, yet heavy ‘whatever’ meant. “What do you mean, whatever?”

Leon sighed, rolling onto his side to face you too. His eyes, still so blue even in the darkness of the motel room, bore into yours. It seemed he didn’t carry the same awkward feeling about this topic as you did. Or, maybe he did and he just hid it exceptionally well. But knowing him, that didn’t seem right.

“She’s just attached to you. Always at your side, or chatting your ear off. And what the hell was with that earlier?” He continued, brows furrowed in their eternal frown.

“I was patching her up. Making sure none of her cuts were infected.” You half shrugged, trying to play it off as something simple, even though it was so complex.

“She looked like she wanted to kiss you or something.”

“Oh, my God,” you rolled your eyes, trying to push away the way your chest tightened at the though. “You’re so fucking dramatic. She wasn’t gonna kiss me.”

“Okay,” Leon shrugged, his tone final and casually dismissive. Like he was finished talking about it. Like he didn’t believe you but didn’t want to say so.

“She was not going to kiss me.” You pushed, voice quiet yet firm. Your own brows were pulled into a frown, like what he’d said was offensive.

But it wasn’t. Kissing Ashley wasn’t a bad thought. It wasn’t as if you’d never kissed another girl before. The first time you had was in the training program for USSTRATCOM, your training partner who made you realize that all girls don’t look at other girls that way. She was the first, others followed.

Ashley was pretty, very pretty. Tall, pretty lips, and the blonde hair, blue eye thing, of course. Kissing her wouldn’t be so bad, really. It would probably be very nice. But nothing like kissing Leon, though.

“Okay.” Leon said again, shifting to lay on his back again, letting his eyes close. The finality of it all aggravated you. So, you asked him a question maybe you shouldn’t have.

“What if she did?” You asked, eyes narrowed and trained on him. A smile bloomed on your face at the way his eyes opened, his brows furrowing deeper at your question.

“What about it? It’s not my business.” Leon grumbled. But the tone he used made it wound like it was very much his business.

“M’kay.” You nodded, quietly celebrating to the way you’d seemed to have stumped him, surprised him.

For a moment, he didn’t respond. He stared at the ceiling, and you stared at him. It was deadly quiet, the rhythmic sound of Ashley’s breathing the sole sound in the room.

“Did you want her to?” Leon asked, mumbling quietly. His eyes stayed on the ceiling, as if he were afraid to look you in the eye when you answered. Afraid you had an answer he wouldn’t like.

“I dunno.” You admitted, honestly. You didn’t know, truly you didn’t. Kissing Ashely wouldn’t be so bad, but you hardly knew the girl. Not to mention her heavy attachment to you. It could get worse if she kissed you.

Leon nodded, not sure of how to answer your admission. He laid there, your eyes on him as you laid on your side. You wished so desperately for him to kiss you, or hold you, or do something. It was painful, the thought that he didn’t feel the same.

“Would that bother you?” You dared to ask, voice so low it was almost inaudible as you spoke.

Leon was still quiet for a long moment, maybe considering whether to answer seriously or with his usual dry humor. The latter won. “Not something I’d wanna walk in on.”

You scoffed, rolling your eyes. “Why? Because we’re girls?”

“Because she’d be kissing you.” He responding, saying it lightly, like the meaning of that simple sentence wasn’t the heaviest thing you’d ever heard.

Your mind did circles, your heart raced. Did he mean that because you were his partner? Or did he mean it out of jealousy. God, you hoped it was jealousy.

“What do you mean by that?” You questioned, voice apprehensive and unsure.

Leon shrugged, a soft, unintelligible grunt falling from his lips. He didn’t look over at you, his eyes still trained on the ceiling. The nagging feeling that was ever present in your chest worsened. The silence was deafening, painful. Then, finally, he spoke.

“It’d just be weird. It’s Ashely, it’d be weird.” He mumbled, like even he didn’t believe his own answer.

Leon’s words befuddled you, made you frown in contemplation. “Because it’s Ashley? What you mean by that?”

“I mean it’s Ashley. It’d be weird.” He repeated, not clarifying at all. This annoyed you.

Eyes narrowed, lips in a line, you scoffed. “Thanks for the explanation.”

“Anytime,” Leon clipped back playfully. But you were in no playful mood.

You huffed, Leon picking up on your attitude as you sat up in bed. “Seriously, what’d you mean by that?”

Leon let out a scoff of his own, rolling his eyes as he looked over at you. “I mean it’s just a weird thought. You and Ashley. We, we just met her, okay?”

“Oh,” you nodded, wishing you hadn’t jumped to your own conclusions internally. You’d thought he meant it was weird because she wasn’t him. Or maybe that he wanted to kiss you. Not such a simple and obvious answer.

“Yeah,” he nodded, letting out a small sigh to stifle a yawn. “Look, can we get some sleep now? Kinda have a long trip home tomorrow.”

“Yeah. Yeah, sorry.” You mumbled, lying back down on your back, eyes on the cracked ceiling once again.

It was quiet again, the discomfort of silence present once more as Ashley slept in the bed next to yours, and Leon tired to sleep beside you. Your mind buzzed with a thousand variations of the same question: why did Leon actually care so damn much?

“Go to sleep. You think too loud.” Leon grumbled, shifting to lay on his side, back facing you.

“At least some of us think,” you quipped quietly, earning a scoff of a laugh from him before he went silent for the final time that night.

Of course Leon woke up at dawn. The asscrack of fucking dawn. And it wasn’t like he was quiet either. Shuffling of his feet as he stumbled to the bathroom, the sink creaking on. You tried so hard to stay asleep, but your stupid internal alarm clock was ringing too. Oh to be in D.C. where it was still dark.

“C’mon, get up. We need to get moving.” Leon said, his voice somewhat gentle as he rested a hand on your shoulder once he’d emerged from the bathroom, fully changed.

“I’m up. You’re loud.” You mumbled, voice muffled as you pressed your face into the pillow.

“Jesus,” Leon whispered under his breath. “Even Ashely’s up.”

“Good for her,” you nestled deeper into the pillow, hearing a second set of footsteps head toward the bathroom. Less than five short seconds later, Leon yanked the covers from your body, sending a muffled yelp from your lips.

“Up, we need to move.” Leon said again, giving your leg a small shake as you grumbled on about a lack of sleep. His gentleness was gone now, replaced by urgency.

Technically, you were still on ‘enemy grounds’. You weren’t safe until you were back on U.S. soil, and even then there carried a risk with Ashley in tow.

So, with more sour encouragement from Leon, you got up and changed into your now dry clothes. Once Ashely used up her turn in the bathroom, you took yours. And not long after, the three of you were heading back toward the lobby of the shabby motel.

You managed to convince Leon to stick around for an extra thirty minutes for a shitty cooked breakfast in the sad excuse for a dining room where the motel offered complimentary breakfast.

Once full of frozen scrambled eggs, stale toast, and really bad coffee, the three of you were on the move once more. It was tricky, getting home like this. Hunnigan had promised that of you made it to a certain location a few miles north of the motel, there would be a chopper waiting to pick you up. Hunnigan hadn’t failed you yet, so you didn’t doubt her.

“How much further?” Ashley asked, her brows creased, forehead already glistening with sweat as the three of you walked through the winding streets of a small village as you had been for the past few hours.

“Not too much. Tired?” You asked, slowing your steps to walk alongside the girl.

She nodded, wiping her forehead with the back of her hand. Sympathy panged in your chest — Ashley wasn’t built for this like you and Leon were. The two of you had trained for exhausting situations such as these, she had not. You frowned.

“Need some water?” You asked gently, holding out a canteen from your belt. Ashley nodded vigorously, taking the canteen and drinking deeply.

You motioned to Leon to stop for a moment, he frowned, but did nonetheless. You stood with Ashley as she drank, taking a break before going back to drinking the water.

“Thanks,” she smiled, handing the canteen back to you — now half empty. “Sorry, I drank a lot.”

“That’s okay. Can’t have you passing out on us now, can we?” You smiled, taking a sip yourself before latching it back on your belt.

Leon, noticing that Ashely was finished with her break, began walking again. You and Ashely followed, keeping a small bit of distance between you and Leon.

“Hey, I um, I overheard you and Leon talking last night. Not everything, but some of it.” Ashley confessed, her voice a bit hesitant.

“Oh, that so? What’d you hear exactly?” You asked casually, worry springing in your chest.

“Just, I’m sorry because I know you guys have a like, groove or whatever. And I mess it up and I make it weird.”

You frowned for a moment, thinking about her words. Then it hit you — she didn’t hear about the kissing discussion, just the last bit about her being new to the trio.

“Oh, Ashely. You don’t make anything weird. Leon and I… we weren’t talking about you making things weird.” You promised, lips curved downward as you and Ashley walked behind Leon.

“Then why’d Leon say that?” Ashely asked, the insecurity obvious in her voice.

You hesitated, unsure whether or not to say it to her face. That he’d thought you two were going to kiss. After a moment of consideration — and seeing Ashely’s sad, curious eyes — you decided to just say it. Consequences be damned.

“Because he thought you were going to try to kiss me. When he came out of the bathroom last night.” You explained gently, shrugging as if it weren’t a big deal. When it kind of was.

The girl was quiet for a long moment, her brows creased, lips turned downward. She swallowed, looking back at you from where she’d been staring at her feet. “And he meant it’d be weird if I did kiss you?”

“Yeah, that’s what he meant. Not because we’re girls,” you were quick to interject your previous statement. “But because it’s just… that you and I don’t really know each other that well.”

Ashley nodded, walking beside you as you followed Leon along the uneven stone paths. Every once in a while, he’d glance backward to make sure you weren’t lingering behind or somehow gotten lost.

“Okay,” one simple word carried such finality. It shook you — Ashley was uncomfortable.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to make you feel weird. I just wanted to be honest.” You tried to explain gently but firmly. You didn’t want her to think you were strange.

“You didn’t make me feel weird.” Ashely shook her head, eyes squinting in the mid-afternoon sun as she looked over at you.

You smiled a little, relieved you hadn’t put her off or made her uncomfortable. That really was the last thing you wanted. “Good,”

The three of you continued to walk along, and a little further up, you demanded a break. Leon huffed, claiming you didn’t have time for a break. But the sun was warm and you were quickly running out of water.

So, you stopped for a quick fifteen minutes before setting off again. Leon was walking much quicker than before — dead set on getting to the extraction point before sundown. Which was very much possible as you were a mere four miles away.

There was a chopper waiting, just as Hunnigan had promised. God, you’d mentally decided to name your first born after her, so thankful to finally leave Spain and sit your ass down.

You sat beside Leon in the back compartment of the chopper, all three of you sporting massive headsets to protect your ears. You chatted away with the pilot — a friend of Hunnigan’s named Danny who was funny, and reminded you of the late Mike who died in pursuit of getting you and Leon out of trouble in the village.

With the promise of a good meal and actual hot showers, Danny flew the three of you home. You were busy looking outside the chopper when Leon nudged your knee with his, earning a slightly venomous glare from you before he pointed to Ashley. Who was dead asleep across from you.

The ride back to D.C. was long, around six hours. Most of which were spent talking with Danny or falling asleep, slumped against Leon’s shoulder. Around twenty minutes before you were set to land — you and Leon had been previously discussing what you were doing first, eating, sleeping, or showering — you shook Ashley awake.

The poor thing was groggy and half asleep as you all filed off the chopper and bid goodbye to Danny — whom you’d made a promise to meet up with and have drinks in honor of Mike at his favorite bar he’d mentioned before he tragically died.

A government issued SUV waited for you, instructing the three of you to pile into the back so you could be taken straight to the President, then to testing. Which you put up a damn good fight. Who the fuck cared about testing? You were hungry and tired and dehydrated as hell. Leon shut you up quick though, despite not being happy about the arrangement himself.

Unfortunately, the car ride was around a half an hour. The driver — not as intimidating had he’d first appeared — flicked between radio stations ntil he landed on one he knew was Ahsley’s favorite. (Apparently he’d been the one to drive Ashely to college, so he knew what music she liked).

Much to Ashely’s dismay and deathly embarrassment, the fucking Backstreet Boys were playing. The driver turned it up, also having the knowledge that this particular track was one of Ashley’s favorites.

Unfortunately, you knew the lyrics too. You mumbled along with them, Leon biting back a smile at how ridiculous his own field partner could be.

“You like the Backstreet Boys?” Ashely asked, her cheeks a bit warm as you bopped your head to the beat and hummed along.

“Nah, but don’t be embarrassed.” You shook your head, smiling at the girl who was sitting between you and Leon.

“Music is music, blondie.” Leon agreed, nodding his head with your positive attitude. He looked back over Ashely’s head at you, trying hard not to smile at your antics. God, you could be so stupidly immature sometimes.

“Oh,” Ashley mumbled, slinking down further in her seat as the driver made the final turn and parked the SUV.

Leon exited first, then Ashley, and you to follow up the rear. You and Leon were armed, still charged with protecting Ashely, no matter the fact that you were indeed on U.S. soil again, and at the White House. The President didn’t greet you outside to your surprise, but you were ushered immediately to his office.

There he was reunited with his daughter, the emotional moment making you have to quietly clear your throat because it even choked you up to see Ashley so happy to see her father again.

You and Leon were thanked profusely, promised your compensation and the highest of honors and awards. To which you didn’t really want (except the money, fuck, you wanted the money), but you knew better than to even try to deny.

With that, you and Leon were quickly dismissed, told you were being led to government testing to be sure you really were clear of the parasites. You gave Ashley a quick goodbye smile and hug, Leon giving her a pat on the shoulder, telling her to behave herself.

She looked so unsure, so strange standing in the Oval Office, clothes grimy and blood stained, hair mussed as she watched you and Leon being escorted from the room.

The First Daughter felt a strange sort of emptiness in her chest then, watching you leave. Her brows furrowed as her father spoke incessantly to her about how worried he’d been and how much he missed her. You were agents, assigned to bring her home and leave. No more, no less. So why was she so devastated to see you go?

Of course, you felt a little sad to leave the girl behind. Despite spending only around forty-eight hours with Ashley, you found yourself realizing you’d miss her. Her smile and her comments and her laugh. The way she always asked if you were alright when you should have been doing so to her. How she tried her hardest to defend you and Leon, despite her chronic helplessness.

These things were not spoken to Leon though as you two walked out of the White House together, followed by guards back to the SUV you’d arrived in. But, even though you didn’t say it, you knew Leon felt it too. Somehow, in forty-eight short hours, Ashley had left a mark on you. The both of you. And you missed her already.

“Wait!” You stopped in your tracks, you and Leon almost simultaneously looking over your shoulder to see Ashley running out of the White House after you. She was panting, trying to catch up.

She ran to Leon first, wrapping her arms around his neck, taking the agent by such surprise it made him stumble backwards a bit. Leon wasn’t much of a hugger, you knew this personally. But, despite the action being hesitant and awkward, he hugged her back.

After a few moments — which you knew in your bones were long for Leon — he gave her a quick pat on the back. Ashely took the motion in stride and unlinked herself, smiling at him.

Then, she turned to you. Of course, you expected a hug as well, and you got one. She wrapped her arms around your neck too, you wrapped your arms around her middle, hugging her back with no hesitation. But what you hadn’t expected, was for her to lean back and press a kiss to your lips.

You paused, frozen, eyes wide as Ashley kissed you. What the fuck? She wasn’t a bad kisser, actually. You felt a little bad, not kissing her back as Ashley pulled away, letting go of you and taking a step back. You sort of wished you had kissed her back. But, as the girl stood there, she held no contempt for the fact that you hadn’t. She knew she’d taken you by complete surprise.

“Thank you, both of you. I know I already said it, but thank you for saving my life. It, it means a lot.” Ashely said, her lips — which had been as soft as you thought they were — curved in a sweet smile. Baby blue eyes darted between you and Leon.

Leon who was as shocked as you that Ashley had kissed you with such little hesitation. He was still recovering as well.

Ashely said no more, just offering one last wide smile before turning around and walking away. Her guard — which had followed her outside, running behind her — escorted her. She didn’t even look back, didn’t get a second look at the still shocked look on your face.

“Holy fuck,” you said finally, looking away from Ashley’s retreating figure to look at Leon. He was shocked as well, brows raised as he blinked for a moment.

“Yep, that was weird.” Leon mumbled, nodding as if in affirmation. He said no more, turning around and walking to the SUV, leaving you in momentary silence.

You blinked yourself back to the present, realizing Leon’s comment. You frowned, turning and quickly walking to the SUV as well. “So I didn’t just have a dehydration induced hallucination? She actually kissed me?”

“She actually kissed you,” Leon nodded as he buckled in the SUV, you climbing in and sitting beside him. The car started and rolled out of the parking lot.

“Oh my God.” You said, brows raised, shaking your head. You were unsure of what else there really was to say. You were at a total loss for words.

“Fucking weird.” Leon shook his head, whispering again.

This caused you to look over at him, brows raised. “Why? Because we’re girls?” You brought up your challenge from the previous night, knowing full well you’d get the same damn response.

“No, because it's you.”

You frowned deeper, lips downturned. Oh, you liked a good fucking challenge. “You think I’m like, un-kissable, or something, Kennedy?”

Leon rolled his eyes, exhaustion obviously catching up to him. He looked tired — physically and mentally. “I didn’t say that. It’s just weird.”

“See, that’s not an explanation. Just like it wasn’t last night.” You chided, eyes narrowed.

“Christ,” Leon mumbled under his breath as shook his head, clearly regretting ever speaking in the last five minutes. “It’s just weird to see my partner being kissed like that.”

You took this as your chance, a grin forming on your lips. “By another girl? Or just in general?”

“General.” Leon responded, obviously not caring of how bored it sounded.

“Jealous or something?” You challenged further, lips pulled in a shit-eating grin.

Oh you’d gotten him there. You could tell by the way Leon’s shoulders tensed and his too casual expression that he was, indeed, sickeningly jealous. An idea — stupid, one that may ruin your dynamic — popped into your head.

You turned your body to face Leon in the backseat, grinning as he frowned at your sudden closeness. With no hesitation or moment for him to react, you leaned forward and kissed him. Square on the mouth. It must be a thing for blondes to have really soft lips.

Leon didn’t say a word, didn’t pull back, didn’t move. He just let you kiss him. Which was strange in and of itself. You placed a hand on his cheek, him a hand on the back of your neck. Eureka, he’d wanted to kiss you all along. Fuck yes, that’s all you could think.

Leon was a decent kisser too, a really good kisser actually. You scooched a little closer, allowing him to hold you by the back of your neck, your body relaxed against his as if it were natural to do so.

Was this what Ashely was feeling when she’d kissed you? Absolute elation and joy? You didn’t let yourself wonder too much, getting swept up in the fact that you were kissing Leon. His hand was gentle yet firm on the back of your neck, your hand on his cheek drifting down to rest against his chest. This moment, God you wished it could last forever.

Which unfortunately, it didn’t. You heard someone clear their throat, the driver looking at you through the rear view mirror. You pulled back, cheeks a little warm. You must look like some sort of girl. Someone who got around maybe. First the First Daughter had kissed you, now you were verging on making out with your field partner in the backseat of a government vehicle.

“Sorry,” you mumbled, pulling away from Leon and sitting back on the seat.

Leon scoffed to himself, letting his hand fall from where it’d been resting on the back of your neck. “You’re stupid,”

“Excuse me?” You let out a small laugh. You’d kissed him and he was calling you stupid? What the hell?

“I can’t believe it took you that long to realize.” Leon shook his head, making you roll your eyes. He’d been jealous the whole time. So the comment of how weird it’d been that Ashley would kiss you — and actually had — was exactly what you thought. Huh, you were some amateur detective.

“Shut up,” you smiled, mumbling as you crossed your arms over your chest, sinking into the seat.

“Nope.” Leon shook his head, making you smile wider.

Maybe these tests wouldn’t be so bad, now that you had two kisses to think on. One you could only ever remember, and one you could receive a million more of once all this was over.

how you can help Palestine! 🇵🇸

[astraystayyh]

You and I

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

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

You, however, are quite the opposite.

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

Hyunjin doesn't know this.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

....

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

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

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

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

"Can we talk, please?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"I believe you. Stop crying, please."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

[dearsnow]

I’D HAVE TO THINK ABOUT IT

- you still think about the man that broke your heart years later. (bradley “rooster” bradshaw x gn!/fem!reader, pure angst (sorry))

word count: 719

a/n - writing angst scratches a part of my writing urges that nothing else can fill lol. i prefer reading fluff, but writing is another story- funny, huh? anyways, enjoy. here’s to writing that doesn’t have a happy ending <3

When your boyfriend was deployed the first time, you thought it wouldn’t be too bad. It was just a few months, right?

You wrote letters, and you sent emails, and you called just enough to whet your taste for his voice before he was pulled away. You’d do anything for Bradley Bradshaw, and he knew it.

“I just don’t think it’s going to work out.” His words fell from his mouth and shattered on your floor like broken glass. You felt a lump form in your throat, choking you. He was saying the one thing you never wanted to hear. “You know how my job is. I’d never be able to treat you like you deserve. I’m sorry, but we have to break it off.”

A stinging set off behind your eyes, clouding your vision and pulling your eyes down to the floor. You could wait. You would take the crumbs of him that he offered like a starved animal, no matter how long you went without food. Didn’t he understand that you’d have waited lifetimes? That you loved him more than you’ve loved anything? You needed him like air, but he needed you like solid ground; if he was in the water, he could survive without you.

“But I love you,” you protested, “I’d wait.”

He shook his head. He loved you too, and that’s why he left you to fend for yourself.

It took three years for you to find someone else, two years for you to marry them, and one more before you had your first child. She was four when you had your second, a boy. He’s three now.

Twelve years. It took twelve years for Bradley to finally leave your mind. You’re reorganizing your old things, discarding everything from your life before your family. That’s when you happen upon a letter you wrote so long ago it seems like a distant dream, yet so fresh in your mind that you can recite a few lines by memory.

Dear Lieutenant Bradley Bradshaw,

I will always love you.

You’re my Achilles heel. I want you so desperately it burns, it burns my throat and my eyes and my heart. I don’t think I can get over that kind of burn.

I’ll move on, though, as I’m sure that’s what you wanted for me. I’ll marry someone. I’ll have children. I’ll have that white picket fence suburban dream, the one where your new neighbors bake you brownies and the sun is just a little too hot all the time. I’ll have a stable life, a nice one. I’ll have a pool and a two-story house. I might even get a dog or three for my kids to play with– a golden retriever trio that came from the same stray litter.

But if you came to me, walked up to my home, and smiled at me through the window, it would be like nothing ever changed. I’m terrified even now that I’ll say your name when my boyfriend wraps his arms around my waist. If you asked me to leave with you, to turn in my divorce papers and lose custody of the children I’ll eventually have, I’d have to think about it. I would have to think about leaving everything I’ve built to elope with you.

What scares me is that I would probably end up doing it.

So, I hope I never see you again, because I don’t want to have to break the hearts of those who love me. And I also hope that if you knock on my door, I’ll have the strength to close it.

Yours truly,

The One Who Would Have Waited.

You set the envelope down on your desk with watery eyes. The worst part about finding the slightly crumpled letter is that it still rings true after all this time, even after you told yourself it held no weight. You’ll forget about the letter eventually, you tell yourself. You’ll forget about the person written in black ink, too.

You have a good life, no one can doubt that. You tell yourself that nothing could be better. But when you think about the love of your life, you don’t think about the person you married.

You think about the man with a mustache who broke your heart so many years ago.

[pupkou]

✧ No Lights To Tell Us ✧

✦ Zagreus (Hades 2018) x Gender Neutral Reader. ✦ Warnings: slight mentions of gore (mention of beheading), mention of blood, mention of swords/blades. ✦ Word Count: 900. ✦ A standalone one shot, set within my "Blood and Darkness" universe (but not yet somewhere specific in that story's timeline). ✦ Link to part one (parts are not yet connected).

Zagreus is nothing if not devoted.

That sentiment applies to everything he's interested in-- but really 'obsessed with' is a better way of putting it, because he doesn't lightheartedly ponder or enjoy anything. He's too intense for any lighthearted observation and studying because he connects too deeply with the stories of others and the worlds that they live in, his heart too big to live without sorrow. Despite his attachments, he lives to find a place of his own, to feel like he belongs, and his ambition to complete this quest has not been strained.

While living in the Underworld provides him with so much inspiration for adventure and reasons to dash around, defeating friends and foes alike, Zagreus can say that his favorite adventure has been knowing you.

Before you, Zagreus trained with Achilles for as many hours as the great hero allowed-- starting their sessions back when it was revealed to him in a dream that there is a world outside of the house of Hades. Zagreus obsesses about his trainings, the way he moves is careful and planned because one wrong move could send him plunging back into the depths of red blood that always seem to greet him eventually-- warm, but not kind. His movements matter because you can only get beheaded so many times before it gets old, and Zagreus prefers to spill blood with a slash of his blade than to be the one lying cold and hard against the stone floor.

But he's also devoted to you, his most beloved (as he calls you).

He did all of the outdated courting rituals, like inviting you over for a grand feast, gifting you ambrosia won in battle, and demonstrating the best way to remove the sweet beads of fruit from a pomegranate (as any good prince would do for a prospective partner) but Zagreus didn't need all those formal actions to be sure of how he feels.

Zagreus, since the moment he laid eyes on you, was obsessed with you. Like a hunting bird watching its soft, warm-hearted prey from above as it flies steadily above, Zagreus set his sights on you, and needed you more than anything. His desire for you outweighed any other, so strong that he lent Orpheus a few words on longing and tenderness. He didn't need time to love you; because his devotion to you was formed in an instant, rendered unchangeable and strong within the blink of an eye like a blacksmith plunging a sword into dark, cool water.

You are his main devotion, his beloved, his favorite shade, and it is through Zagreus' obsession with you that you learn what it is to be loved by a God.

One night, under the living stars and lying on the plush earth of his mother's garden, he rests his head in your lap as you comb your fingers through Zagreus' dark locks of hair. His laurels are set to the side, simmering with crimson and glittering with gold, and he is at peace in your embrace.

"Zagreus?", you say softly, pulling him out of his trance and drawing his bicolored eyes toward you. His eyes of garnet and emerald shine at you inquisitively as his mouth smiles, pleased at hearing his name from the mouth of his lover, the sweetest song he knows.

"Yes, beloved?", he answers, kind and warm.

"Did you hear that the villagers of your mother's hometown have built a temple in your honor?"

"I did, love," he beams, proud of their efforts and appreciation. "Their offerings were quite impressive, I need to remember to reward them with a bountiful season of hunting for their efforts."

"That's kind of you," you muse, petting his hair still as he leans into the soft press of your hand against him. "They're lucky to have someone who is as generous as you, Zagreus."

"You flatter me, darling. I just.. try to give everyone what they deserve," he says, sighing as he looks up at the stars dancing through the night sky, "and to be someone they can believe in."

"I know it isn't easy, my love. After all, if all Gods are worshipped, who is left for the Gods to believe in? Who is there to guide those whose hands mold mortality?"

"It's a bit late to get philisophical," he jokes, although it is without much humor behind his voice. "But I believe that the answer is that we are left with only what we cherish. For me, you are cherished-- so I have you to believe in, to lean on, and to worship in this infinite strand of life. You love me even when I have no offerings, and not even any blood to spill into your cup, and it is not because of my power. You know better than anyone that Gods only have what they have been given-- we have no lights to tell us our fates, only stars."

"I do love you, Zagreus," you affirm, leaning down to kiss his forehead. So many thoughts swirl within his mind, and your kiss helps to soothe his celestial thoughts of life and love. "And I thank the stars that they have led you to me."

Above your heads, in silver and gold, the stars sparkle brighter in their carefully planned formation, as if they are content with the way the scroll of fate has unfurled perfectly.

lmk what you think plz <3 love you

@allright @transchainsawman 💜

[howlingday]

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

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

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

II

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"No."

"N-No?"

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

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

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

"I am not those people, mother."

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

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

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

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

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

"Hello there~!" She greeted.

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

Pyrrha flushed.

Misses Nikos giggled.

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

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

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

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

Pyrrha giggled with Carnelia.

"Moulári pou flertárei." Athena grumbled.

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

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

"He seems nice." Mamá said.

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

Pyrrha gave a nod. "Yes, Mother."

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

"Hey, Mom?"

"Yes, Jaune?"

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

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

"No." She smiled.

"No?"

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

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

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

"Then... Who is my dad?"

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

"So, I don't have dad?"

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

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

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

"Mom, I'm 17."

"When you're older, honey."

[johaerys-writes]

Just saw someone shitting on TSOA yet again (no surprises there) about the fact that Achilles is "canonically" chestnut-haired, and that the fact that he's portrayed as a blonde must be TSOA's fault because, of course, every inaccuracy or misconception about the Iliad or Patrochilles in popular culture can be traced back to TSOA, right? And of course let's ignore the fact that many other popular adaptations like, oh, I don't know, TROY THE MOVIE which was filmed 7 years before TSOA portrays Achilles as a blonde, and that many, many artists several centuries before TSOA was written imagined him as a blonde, starting from the Romans and going aaaaaall the way to the 18th and 19th century to the present day, but let's ignore all of that for a minute, shall we?

The word used to describe Achilles in the Iliad is xanthos, which does not exactly translate as chestnut! It does not exactly translate to any colour word we have in the English language, or probably most modern languages in fact!! Greeks used certain words to describe groups of colours, so xanthos could mean anything from yellow to gold to brown, even ruddy, reddish brown or reddish gold. Translators over the years have used a number of different words to describe Achilles' hair, here are some examples from the translations I have on hand and a couple I searched for this purpose:

George Chapman (1611): yellow

John Dryden (1700): yellow

Alexander Pope (1743): golden

Samuel Butler (1898): yellow

Richard Lattimore (1951): fair

Kazantzakis-Kakridis (1955): blonde

Robert Fagles (1990): fiery

Stanley Lombardo (1997): sandy

Barry B. Powell (2013): light-coloured

Caroline Alexander (2016): tawny

Emily Wilson (2023): chestnut

So, as you can see, there have been many different variations over the years, and none of them are either 100% right or wrong! I don't know what each translator had in mind when they chose to translate xanthos the way they did, what their precise reasoning was, but what we do know is that the word has been used to describe a wealth of different shades so I'm guessing there's a degree of personal interpretation or preference at play here.

And that's all I have to say about that for the moment! Peace out ✌️

[revehae]

day and night (2)

pairing ↠ jeno x (f) reader x haechan

genre .. warnings ↠ smut, noncon, mean!dom!jeno, implied sub!haechan, gun play, degradation, slapping, kidnapping, oral (m receiving), sadist!jeno, implied dacryphilia

summary ↠ weeks have passed since you’ve known freedom and you haven’t lost hope of going home, but jeno intends to whip you into shape. eventually, you resign yourself to the fact that your new home is with jeno and haechan, and a part of you begins to make peace with that.

wc ↠ 3.1k

a/n ↠ the second and final part of day and night. this is a repost!

don’t like it, don’t read.

it had been an uncertain amount of weeks since you last had a taste of freedom; though it felt like it had been months. at least you still knew the warmth of daylight. haechan, ever lenient, was sweet enough to allow you to step briefly outside on occasion, in the gated backyard where no one could see you and you could see no one.

and without jeno’s awareness, of course. as far as jeno was concerned, you spent your days there rotting alive at their control. part of you had been long-tempted to make noise, to scream help at the top of your lungs, because you knew that haechan would never hurt you. at least, not to the extent that jeno would. but you had a creeping feeling that he’d tell jeno, because after all, it was their lives and future at stake if anyone were to find out what they did to you. and jeno would be absolutely furious. in preference of not seeing jeno seething with rage any more of which you already had in the past few weeks—because every instance ended with you in a very compromising position—you very wisely decided to brainstorm a little more.

haechan was the subject of all of your various ideas, even the least lethal ones. you had abused his kindness from the moment you were brought into this situation, in your very futile efforts to convince haechan to tell you who was “forcing” him into the crime, and to let you go. he was a willing participant, you achingly learned and accepted, but you would improve your craft this time.

it was one of those nights - you were locked up inside your room and your captors were only god knows where. when haechan entered, you were dreadful, though unsurprised. you came to learn that your captors - him especially - were awfully needy. the long weeks consisted of fueling their need to get off and them using your body to their heart’s content. this was no different, although you appreciated that haechan was at least not intentionally rough. and he was fairly submissive to you. though he followed his needs very blindly, he still had some compassion for you.

haechan looked at you, eyes begging please. seeing as you had no other real choice, you gave in to his desires as per usual, but this time with a plan.

“f-fuck,” he moaned, utterly sensitive. the moment you sank down around him, haechan was weak. it always went like that; as if the barest touch could satisfy his never-ending needs. you knew that wasn’t true, though. haechan’s greed too often overcame him.

you flattened your palms against his stomach, feeling like you were at the top of the world from above him and every bit of him was a puzzle of the earth. his mouth where his pitchy whines spilled, his wincing eyes, and the heaving of his chest like a storming sea. haechan’s every characteristic was a mere advantage to you; his pleasure bound him. it sought control over his body which it successfully conquered, and that was his achilles heel. he could never deny what his body so desperately wanted.

at almost the height of his pleasure, you attacked. by now, it was too obvious to you when haechan was at the brink. the tremble in his body, his voice soaring in pitch. he simply couldn’t stay still nor quiet. “feel good?” you asked, already aware of the answer. he couldn’t speak through his moans, only nodding his head rapidly in response. “don’t you think i deserve a reward for making you feel so good, baby?”

haechan blinked, swallowing to wet his drying throat. whatever you wanted, the way that you called him baby had him ready to give you the whole world if he could. “reward?” 

“yeah,” you sighed, leaning down to gently press your lips to his neck in between your words, “you should let me go… we can rat jeno out and pin this all on him. and then you’ll have me all… to yourself. doesn’t that sound good? you can have me whenever you want and don’t have to share me.”

haechan gripped your hips, and in mere seconds he was cumming inside of you. he hadn’t yet verbally agreed, but that alone told you that he was likely on-board. if there was anything you had discovered during the span of these weeks, it was that haechan put his greed before anything.

and you felt victorious until another voice startled you. 

“well, bra-fucking-vo!” jeno whooped, though you knew his amusement was probably anything but sincere. your eyes widened and you crawled off of haechan, backing away as instant fear shot through your chest. if jeno had heard all of that, it went without a doubt that you were in for a punishment.

oh, this was a classic. either jeno excelled at being at the wrong place at the wrong time or this room was something of cursed, though either way, you hated it when this happened. granted, this was only the second time it had, but jeno had invoked enough fear in you from that day alone for you to dread him ever discovering even the thought of you trying to escape.

“j-jeno, i-”

“j-j-jeno, shut the fuck up,” he mocked, switching on a dime. you could see it clearly then - the rage burning like wildfire in his irises.

haechan had been startled, too. it seemed that he only clearly got back into his head when it was too late; when jeno appeared, and he realized just how terrible of a trance you had him in only mere moments ago. it was far too easy for you to hypnotize him and put him under your enticingly dark spells.

jeno shut the door behind him and then stormed over, but much to your surprise, he didn’t storm over to you. he grabbed haechan - who had very swiftly redressed - by his collar, growling, “you fucking idiot. does your dumbass really think she’s gonna let you off the hook just like that? no, she’s gonna turn you and i both in the very second she gets the fucking chance. think with your head instead of your tiny ass balls for once.”

immediately afterwards, jeno released him roughly, making haechan nearly fall back against the sheets. and then, he finally turned to you. you crawled back, pushing yourself away with your hands, yet you had nowhere you could run nor hide. “and you. boy, do i got something for you,” jeno chuckled, and swung his flat palm towards your face. you shut your eyes, but it never came. jeno paused mid-slap, then said in the midst of his rage, “you know what? i have a better idea.”

jeno left the room. you could only dread whatever idea had suddenly popped up inside his head, and the feeling only heightened when you saw him re-enter some moments later with a gun firm in his hand. the fear on your face made him laugh, but you brought it upon yourself anyways. if you had just been an obedient little plaything for them, he would have never needed to bring out the extremes. though, shockingly enough, he walked over and handed the gun to haechan, who stared at him in confusion. 

“you aren’t off the hook, baby,” jeno said mockingly, nudging haechan. “come on.”

haechan obediently followed him to the other side of the bed where you quivered and cowered. you weren’t the only one to be punished when it came down to displeasing jeno, and you probably wouldn’t believe him if he said that he knew that better than you did. 

jeno grabbed you by your neck, ordering sharply, “get on your knees.”

you dropped to your knees without hesitance, only willing to please him so urgently because you didn’t want to upset him further. and god, he was easily irritable.

“you’re going to suck me off,” he said simply, “and your baby here is gonna hold that gun to your head to keep you in compliance.” 

haechan’s eyes flashed with shock, and he quickly tried to dissuade jeno, “but-”

“no ‘but’s. do you wanna go to fucking prison? kiss your dreams goodbye?” jeno barked, to which haechan shook his head immediately. “then, do what the hell i said. simple as that.”

it took everything in you when you felt the gun being pressed to your head once again not to cry, but you didn’t want to show jeno any signs of weakness. he didn’t care if you sobbed and if anything, it probably got him off even more. sickly enough.

jeno kicked you with his foot, and you bit back a groan of pain. “fuck are you waiting for? get on with it.”

you obeyed, reaching for his pants and pulling them down his ankles. his underwear followed. you didn’t move with intention, heart racing so fast to the point where you hardly felt alive, detached from your body and only physically present. the fear born in you controlled your every move.

jeno was already half-hard, and you mindlessly pumped his dick, him going fully stiff in your palms before you knew it. you latched your lips onto him, drawing him into your mouth. you were at least grateful that he had left you with some control, in spite of the gun haechan was holding to the side of your head. you recalled the many times within the span of the past few weeks where he had given your mouth a rough fucking - stressed from practice and all those sorts of things and letting it out on you - until your throat had gone sore and you could do nothing but croak hoarsely when he fucked you full only moments after. at least for now, the pace was somewhat yours. 

or not. 

you went too slow. you didn’t mean to tease, but jeno surely took it as such. jeno grabbed the gun from haechan and pointed it at your temple himself, then very quickly pulled the trigger. when you heard the click, you prepared to meet your end, the frightened tears finally streaming warmly down your cheeks as the thought of freedom rolled into your brain. but nothing came, and when you glanced up at jeno, teary-eyed, his cock twitched in your mouth.

“that’s what happens when you tease,” jeno said, a wicked grin on his lips, and he handed the revolver back to haechan. “only one of the chambers is loaded. fuck around and find out which one is.” 

you didn’t want to do that, and so you upped your pace, trying your hardest to satisfy him. he tipped his head back, roughly yanking for a fistful of your hair and forcing your mouth deeper down his shaft.

when he opened his eyes back, he laughed. not at you, but at haechan, the one who tried to hurt you as little as possible. come to think of it, the only time he ever did was because of the influence of jeno, which was why his kindness was so easy to manipulate. if only jeno had never popped up when he did. you might have actually gotten away with it. instead, both you and haechan were being forced to do something you hated.

“haechan, your hands are shaking like crazy,” jeno remarked teasingly. then, he looked at you and mocked, “you better pray your baby doesn’t fuck around and kill you.”

it was that day you began to accept that you would never know freedom again.

jeno wanted to be sure you knew it, though, just so that you would never forget and in case you needed the rough reminder. and also because he simply loved the look on your face as all the hope was drained from it, and you realized once more that your fate lied in their hands.

once jeno found out about you and haechan’s backyard escapades, he forbid haechan from ever taking you back outside, allegedly because being out there was giving you ideas. and it was, but they ultimately always fell through, obviously, and most of them were too stupid to even dare be attempted.

on occasions where he was feeling extremely cruel, he would fuck you with the news channel playing in the background, forcing you to listen to the news anchor talk about your disappearance and how they were, fortunately enough, still searching for you, though the police had little leads. he would taunt, “soon, they’ll give up and stop looking. no one’s going to save you, whore.”

and that broke you like nothing else had. it stung to think that this was what had become of your life ever so suddenly, in the blink of an eye. this was the lifestyle that you were being forced to adapt to, one where you felt more like a pet than a person. a doll than anything even breathing and alive.

then, weeks became months, and you were beginning to see your captors in a different light. perhaps it was the lack of vitamin D and other human interactions getting to your head, but there came the realization that they were attractive. you had simply been too blinded by hatred to accept it. though now, you were becoming attracted to them.

soon, you began snooping around. usually they kept you barricaded upstairs (they took preliminary measures to ensure you couldn’t escape, locking the windows and doors and such.) so when you were certain that both of them were in class, you left your room and ventured into one of theirs. it was haechan’s that you entered, you realized sooner than later. the pictures of him and some of his friends or family on the walls, his gaming chair and console very telling. you ignored the box of tissues on his desk, glancing around elsewhere. it wasn’t tidy or messy, but you got the undying urge to clean, and that you did. in all honesty, you had nothing better to do. 

then, you went to jeno’s. his room was clean, surprisingly so, though also terribly bare. the only pictures he had were ones taken after his teams had won games and he was holding the trophy. he had a case busting at the seams with trophies from the endless amount of achievements he had made in his lifetime. to you, that part made sense.

“fuck are you doing?” 

you jumped, startled. though you weren’t surprised when you turned around and saw jeno standing at the door frame. scratch your bedroom being cursed - if they all weren’t, then he definitely just knew how to be at the wrong place at the wrong time. 3 times was certainly not a coincidence.

in an instant, you replied, “i wasn’t messing with anything, i swear-”

jeno burst into laughter. he liked it too much that you were afraid of him. all of the fear that flooded you in moments upon noticing his presence was what he lived for.

“were you gonna clean up my room, too?” jeno asked teasingly, stepping forward. for once, he didn’t seem mad. not that you had done anything to merit his anger - yet. so you only stood there, hoping he wouldn’t switch up. “like some fucking maid or something?”

gulping, you stammered, “i thought you were in class.”

“yeah, it got canceled last-minute,” he shrugged, now at your side and playing with your hair. something about his presence was constricting. you held your breath, unable to ignore that he was there almost whenever he stood in the same room as you. “we can do something better though, right?”

at the same time, you were so used to him lashing out and punishing you whenever he caught you doing something that this was too unfamiliar and didn’t feel right. sure, he was still mean enough to mock you, but jeno never played with your hair; he played with you. it was something haechan had gotten accustomed to, the more unshocking person. jeno’s every move aroused suspicion in you.

jeno pulled your hair a little roughly - reminding you that you forgot to respond - and asked again, more firmly, “right?”

and there it was.

“right,” you answered swiftly.

“knees.”

so down on your knees you went. you unfastened his belt and pulled down his clothes, and stroked him stiff. it was a well-practiced routine, though the difference now was that you seemed to suck him with greed, taking him in your mouth as if you hadn’t eaten in days (and as cruel as jeno could be, he never starved you). which did not go unnoticed by the man you knelt before.

“just like that. keep it up and maybe i’ll reward that stupid cunt of yours.”

and you hated that that excited you. you were only glad that he wasn’t inside of you, because he would have felt you tightening around his dick if he was being needy, or his fingers if he was being nice.

much like haechan, jeno also had obvious signs of being close to the edge. when you were giving him head, he liked to grip your hair and take matters into his own hands, quite literally, guiding your way around his cock until he came. nothing had changed today. he was groaning, pulling you down further down. he didn’t care if you gagged, either. it was none of his concern if you couldn’t breathe. he had one goal and that was to use your mouth for his pleasure.

and he liked to see you swallow. so, when he came, that was what you did, but some of his cum streamed down your chin and dripped onto the floor in a tiny puddle.

you tried to stand, but jeno pulled back down. you glanced at him, confused, but he only shot you an expecting look. “where do you think you’re going? you have a mess to clean.” 

your eyes flickered a couple of times, and then you realized he meant the puddle. “i can go get some napkins,” you said, trying to stand again. 

jeno didn’t allow it, pulling you again, and with a fistful of your hair in his clutch, he lowered your head down to the floor, ordering sharply. “clean. it.”

after you blinked a couple of times, that was when you realized what he meant. and the more you waited around, the more violent he got, lifting your head and slamming it back down, just above the floor to give you a scare. so you did as told, licking the puddle away with your tongue. easily one of the most shameful things you’ve done.

you didn’t realize he was recording until you were finally able to lift your head up, and saw his camera pointed in your face. “haechan’s gonna lose his fucking mind,” jeno chuckled. “should we give him a show?”

[babyrdie]

Any Patroclus headcanon?

Okay, I don't know how common this headcanon is, but I like reversing Achilles and Patroclus' roles in their childhood. Since Patroclus doesn't have much content about his childhood, I suppose I'll fill in the blanks with headcanons!

I like to think that, as a child, Patroclus was more impatient and aggressive and so an accident over something silly like dice resulted in Clysonimus' death (I'm combining different versions in this).

Reading The Iliad, it seemed to me that Patroclus used to be royalty (he's called a prince), while reading Pindar I got the impression that Menoetius was a noble since it's said that his family wasn't originally from Opus, but the king of Opus valued them and gave them part of the land. He's also one of Helen's suitors in more than one source, and I imagine most of those who dared to be there or send their sons there at least had status to offer. I generally prefer the idea that he was a prince, but regardless…in both cases, Patroclus was raised in a high-status household. Mentions of his sister Myrto (in Aristides) and his brother Abderos (in the Photius' Bibliotheca) are both late, which makes me think that it's possible that for a long time Patroclus was established as an only child. Can you imagine what it was like to be an only child of high status? Let's be honest, I don't believe someone like that would be a docile and humble child.

So I think that Patroclus as a child was really what you would expect from a prince/son of a noble who is an only child and can most likely get away with the trouble he causes easily. I can imagine someone like that getting angry enough over dices to accidentally kill someone. I think being exiled to Phithia hit him hard, not because he was sad but because he felt offended. So Patroclus wasn't really good company when he arrived on Phithia. If anything, he was irritated to see Achilles in the position he used to be in, even more irritated because they're cousins ​​and used to have similar privileges and now it was as if Patroclus was just like any other of the servants there. Ironically Achilles, having been raised mainly by Chiron, used to be much more humble and controlled than Patroclus just as Peleus expected (yes, I was inspired by Iphigenia at Aulis here. Also, in my chronology, Achilles in Pelion is before Patroclus because Hesiod justifies Achilles' absence among Helen's suitors with the explanation that he was in Pelion at the time and The Iliad implies that Patroclus wasn't in Pelion, since it says that Achilles learned to heal from Chiron and then passed this on to Patroclus rather than Patroclus learning it together)

I like to think that Patroclus' personality change happened on Phithia. He no longer had the status to protect him from her bad attitude like he once did. In some ways, Peleus was still lenient with him. Peleus used to be prince of Aegina and also lost his status when he was exiled because of someone's death (his half-brother Phocus. However, unlike Patroclus, in most versions Phocus' death wasn't accidental), and he was only able to have a good life again because the king of Phithia, to which Peleus fled, at the time was a generous host to him. Peleus wished to be something similar to Patroclus, even more so because they were also related (here I am considering the version in which they're related by Aegina, which makes Patroclus cousin once removed to Achilles. But, of course, there are other versions of the blood relationship). Still, Peleus wasn't as indulgent as Menoetius (who was lenient enough to have gotten to that point).

Patroclus's relationship with Achilles was initially turbulent. Achilles was raised by someone as wise as Chiron, but in the end he was still mostly raised away from other humans being taught by a centaur teacher and looked after by nymphs (inspired by Argonautica). As such, he was simply very bad at understanding common mortals, which was the case with Patroclus. It took him a while to realize that Patroclus was angry with him because he had resentment and envy, and when he did he wasn't really…err sensitive about it. He was like "oh you envy me" in a surprised tone, which only made Patroclus even more irritated. For Patroclus, it didn't make sense for someone so oblivious to be a prince and, consequently, to be destined to lead people. How could Achilles be a good leader if he cannot understand those who serve him at all? The idea of ​​swearing loyalty to someone like that seemed absurd.

Because Achilles saw how different Peleus and Phoenix acted towards Patroclus compared to the other servants, he became interested. The problem is that, having almost no emotional or social awareness, everything Achilles did only seemed to make Patroclus' temper worse. Meanwhile, Patroclus tried his best to restrain himself, after all he knew that a servant couldn't deal with a prince. Unfortunately, his temper sometimes won, which caused him to fight with Achilles. Every now and then, even physically, which later developed into them sparring together. But in the end Achilles would still go after him, sometimes trying to please him with things like offering an expensive delicacy that Patroclus supposedly should no longer be entitled to, and Achilles even taught him things he learned in Pelion (yes, inspired by The Iliad).. Achilles was so oblivious that he insisted on continuing to call Patroclus a prince, which to Patroclus seemed like a mockery of his current status (it wasn't. And yes, inspired by The Iliad).

However, seeing how Achilles remains much more controlled than him made Patroclus feel even worse. And so, he felt that reacting aggressively would lead to nothing in the end. Achilles wasn't being affected by this, and Patroclus just seemed like an idiot who wouldn't stop complaining. He knew he was lucky that Achilles saw him as a weird kind of entertainment. Otherwise, Achilles might have taken offense and used his status as a prince to make his life unbearable. He was already getting away with Peleus' indulgence, and now he was getting away with Achilles' curiosity. Having gradually become friends with other servants and seeing how they noticed the privileges Patroclus still had over them, Patroclus realized the situation. While his friends were trying so hard and were hardly improving their lives, Patroclus was doing everything wrong and still having a better life than them. It didn't seem fair, and now that he was living closely with the servants it became evident. He wasn't so angry anymore, he was embarrassed.

If he was going to get away with not doing the work and if he was going to continue to experience the expensive things that Achilles kept offering him while his friends continued to stagnate despite their best efforts, then Patroclus felt he should at least earn it. Otherwise, how could he look at others who were supposedly in the same position as him? It wasn't even about Peleus being disappointed or Achilles being confused, it was really about the other servants, people that Patroclus didn't often think about when he was the one being served. In particular, Patroclus became very good at taking care of horses, animals he was interested in and even rode in Opus but never needed to take care of (after all, he had servants who did that for him).

In Phithia, Patroclus' main reference was Phoenix. Phoenix used to be a prince (son of King Amyntor) and also became a vassal when he sought protection in Phithia, where Peleus accepted him just as he accepted Patroclus (I like to think that Peleus did this precisely because of the hospitality he received from the previous king of Phithia during his exile, as I already said). Phoenix was an advisor and, being Patroclus' main reference, that's why Patroclus later also became a kind of advisor to Achilles. Wishing to be as respectful as Phoenix was despite no longer being a prince, Patroclus tried to become more controlled, mature, and wise. He might not have had the wise centaur mentor to teach him like Achilles had, but Patroclus had something that Achilles didn't and that was normal interaction with other people.

No matter how hard Achilles tried, he was still distant. He was too much strict, too much aloof, too much polite, too much divine, someone like that hardly seemed spontaneous in the eyes of other people, especially other children his age (inspired by his characterization in Iphigenia at Aulis). But Patroclus, being so spontaneous and humanly flawed and having even changed because of his friends, became more and more popular. He was a "man of the people", so to speak.

And then it was Achilles' turn to envy him. Because Achilles could have a divine mother, still be a prince, have superhuman speed and strength, have an exceptional education, but he couldn't become as loved as Patroclus, who didn't have a divine mother, was no longer a prince, wasn't superhuman and didn't have a Pelion education. While Patroclus once envied how different Achilles was from other mortals, Achilles envied how much Patroclus was just like other mortals. Patroclus then began trying to help him with this, sometimes acting as his intermediary. They became complementary, with Achilles making Patroclus better in his fighting skills and knowledge while Patroclus helped him to deal better with other people.

When Patroclus met Thetis, he was absolutely impressed. Looking at her, he was able to see everything in her that reminded him of Achilles, which only reminded him of Achilles' divine blood, which he had forgotten about because of their friendship (it's a little hard to remember that your best-friend is a prophetized demigod when he's younger than you and acts insecure when it comes to making friends). And yet, what Patroclus felt was not fear, but admiration. Thetis, wishing the best possible for her son, was happy to see that Achilles had someone to help him understand mortals. After all, this role Thetis could never play, nor did she want to (she certainly didn't have good memories of mortals and didn't miss it when she still lived in Phithia. Returning to the sea was a decision she never regretted).

Over the years, Patroclus and Achilles reversed. Patroclus, raised as someone of high status who could get away with his bad temper, went from being a selfish and impulsive person to being patient and empathetic. On the other hand, Achilles, raised far from the evil of the world, went from an extremely innocent child to someone who would seek and maintain his glory at any cost. They remained complementary, but in opposite directions to how they began.

And the reason Patroclus tried to console Briseis is precisely because of the slaves he befriended in Phithia (which, mind you, didn't stop him from accepting Iphis when Achilles gave her to him). In turn, Achilles planned for Patroclus to take care of Neoptolemus after his death (not my invention, it's in The Iliad) because he admired Patroclus' evolution and how well he took care of him, and he couldn't help but wish Neoptolemus had someone like this. Of course, unfortunately that didn't happen.

In Book 16 of The Iliad, Zeus is an agent of Patroclus' death in order to make him disobey Achilles' order not to come too close to Troy (because Achilles was afraid that one of the gods on the Trojan side would kill him). I like to think that the bloodthirsty, petty, debauched and mocking personality we see in Book 16, so different from how he is portrayed in the rest of The Iliad, was Zeus resurfacing in Patroclus who he used to be. It's not that it's not Patroclus, but that it's a part of him that he had learned to control. At his death, Patroclus used his last words to mock Hector (for those who don't remember, he says that Hector only won because of Zeus and Apollo, that Patroclus would have beaten several Hectors if it weren't for that and that Achilles will kick his ass), ignoring the part of him that had learned not to be too proud and thus dying without denying himself (no matter how flawed he was).

Ironically, it was this behavior that made his disguise as Achilles more believable, since he behaved similarly to Achilles when on the battlefield. Because their completeness wasn't just about their differences, but about the similarities they had. Patroclus was only able to be Achilles because, deep inside, they had some essence that made them similar (although not all the time, since in The Iliad eventually the Trojans recognize him. Yes, contrary to what is generally said, Patroclus wasn't only recognized when the armor was removed from him). If someone had asked, for example, Antilochus to do this, I doubt it would have worked even for a short time.

So basically that's my headcanon about the evolution of Patroclus's personality. But of course, that's just a headcanon!

[punkshort]

Will you eventually do a Swept Away, likes and dislikes post for Joel? The little taste of his character is just delicioussss, he’s so mysterious. I’m dyingggg to crawl inside your brain and see how his character is going to unfold 😍💋

I would love to! I love getting this ask because it always gives me good ideas for future chapters, so thank you!

Let's jump in:

Likes:

1. Sunsets: he loves the colors and how every day is different. He loves it because it's a work of art that everyone in the world can appreciate, no matter who you are.

2. Boxing: it's the only form of exercise he actually enjoys. He really likes taking his anger out on a punching bag, and he tends to hold in a lot of anger from his job.

3. Money: I mean, come on, that's not a big surprise. He likes to live comfortably and without having to worry about the cost of anything. And, sure, when he slaps his black card down and someone does a double take, he feels a rush of pride.

4. Cigars: he didn't used to like them but they have grown on him throughout the years. A colleague of his convinced him to join a cigar club and he found it was a great way to network and rub elbows with the elites.

5. Poetry: he will never admit it, though.

6. Filet Mignon: he loves a perfectly cooked medium rare steak. When he was choosing which restaurant to lease space to on the first floor of his hotel, he only looked at steakhouses because he liked the idea of having a good steak a mere elevator ride away.

7. The Natural Look: he prefers women who don't use too much makeup or plastic surgery/fillers. Almost all of the women he knows, whether through set ups or spouses of his colleagues, all look like they've gone to the same doctor and had the same procedures. He likes women who are comfortable in their skin and aren't fake.

8. McDonald's French fries: it's his Achilles heel. Every now and then after a long, boring art gallery opening or cocktail party, he will instruct his driver to go to McDonald's on the way back to his penthouse to get some fries.

9. Private Jet: he loves being able to come and go whenever he pleases, anywhere he wants. And he especially loves not having to go through security and be surrounded by people squished into a tin can. He likes that he can stretch out and eat a good meal and even sleep in a real bed when he travels, which is often.

Dislikes:

1. Kale: it's a vile weed and he won't touch it.

2. Surprise parties: he absolutely loathes being surprised. Especially when it's been a long enough day and he thinks he's going home to relax and suddenly his penthouse is filled with fifty people drinking all his booze and making a mess of his home and he has to pretend to enjoy it.

3. Lifting weights: he thinks it's obnoxious and he doesn't care about glamour muscles but his trainer always makes him do one day a week where he lifts weights. He gets it over with as quickly as he can.

4. Satin sheets: too slippery and his pillow always ends up on the floor.

5. Campfires: he hates the smoke from campfires because it gets stuck in his clothes and he has to send everything he was wearing to the cleaners right away before it spreads to other fabrics.

6. Lillies: they remind him of funerals.

7. Tea: he could never find a tea he actually enjoyed. All tea tastes like hot water with a dash of some vague flavor and it's just never worth it. Unless he's sick with a sore throat. Then he might have some.

8. Boats: he tends to go out on yachts and sailboats quite a bit, but he doesn't like the open water. He gets seasick and he always has to take pills beforehand.

9. Golf: because all my Joels hate golf, for no particular reason.

[nixie-writes]

I love love love that trope where a normally gentle/sweet character does a 180 when their loved one is in trouble. If requests are open could I request how Blitz, Stolas, and Verosika would react their s/o suddenly becoming a badass to defend them?

I love writing for Verosika but I never get requests for her. I'm so happy someone requested her.

Blitz

-you were with him on a mission and Millie and Moxxie were off doing their couples' stuff. You and Blitz skipped on joining, preferring to get some work out of the way.

-you were on the prowl after your target when police officers approached you two, asking unnecessary questions. You tried to make them buzz off but Blitz made a snarky remark and was tazed.

-seeing Blitz be put down like that ignited a spark in you. You pulled out your small dagger and leaped onto the first cop you could reach, digging your knife into his collarbone and scraping bone. He cried out and shoved you off but he was incapacitated by his wound.

-the other cop rounded on you and you swirled down his leg, slicing his Achilles's heel on both legs, dropping him on his ass. You stood up, blood clotting your clothes and pulled out your gun. Aiming it between both cops' foreheads you warned them to fuck off or meet the end of your barrel. They scurried away, one being half carried by the other.

-you turned to Blitz, checking him over. He assured you he's had much worse, like when Dhorks caught him and Moxxie, and was fine but you still worried. He complimented how well you handled yourself and told you he wanted to see more of that in the future.

Stolas

-you were his personal guard during one of the parties his wife, Stella, was throwing. You knew it was wrong to be with a married man but what they didn't know couldn't hurt them, right? Not like their marriage wasn't arranged from the beginning.

-that said, you were by his side through the night as he got shit faced. He chugged Absinthe and danced with you sloppily, getting a little too close to Stella for comfort.

-when Stolas left to use the restroom Stella approached you. "The fuck do you think you're doing with my husband?!" she demanded. You shrugged. "Enjoying your party?" you feigned innocence. It was at this point Stolas arrived back from the restroom.

-"Stella, you're being paranoid. I'm just having fun with my body guard. Go gossip with your lady friends." you were shocked by how brutally blunt Stolas was with his wife and it didn't bode well with her. Lifting an arm she snarled, rearing up on him. "You think I'm naive Stolas? You don't think I see you with your new toy?" she tossed her hand to land a slap across Stolas' cheek but it never hit his face.

-instead you took the slap to your own face, pushing Stolas behind you. "Stella I have been nothing but polite to you but if you're going to be the whiniest bitch I've ever met there's plenty of dirty laundry I can air about you." you threatened, never looking away from her angry glare. After an intense staring contest she snorted and tore her wrist from your hand. "Whatever, you pathetic body guard. You win tonight." with that she left, grabbing a glass of wine as she walked away.

-Stolas thanked you immensely for your intervention and you insisted you were just doing your job, but admitted you hated seeing your man being abused by his wife. He waved it off, she never got out of hand with him, but you made him promise to tell you if she ever needed to be straightened out again.

Verosika

-as another bouncer at one of Verosika's clubs your job was to make sure only the right people entered her parties. You let in most who arrived as they were on the list but one hound showed up who wasn't on the list and refused to leave.

-he insisted you let him in, telling you he was Verosika's biggest fan. You calmly told him you couldn't let him in because he wasn't on the list. He got angrier and stormed past you into the party. You were unable to stop him before he reached Verosika.

-he angrily asked her why she didn't put him on her list. She told him that she wasn't required to do as he asked and her party was exclusively for good friends.

-it was as he reared back to pounce on her that you jumped him, wrapping an arm around his esophagus and choking him to the floor. You held a knee on his spine as you cuffed him and dragged him outside, kicking his ass out.

-Verosika made a public announcement thanking you for getting rid of the heckler and for the first time, announced you as her partner.

-"I'd like to thank my wonderful partner [Y/N] for getting rid of that nasty hound! This party was saved thanks to them, give 'em a hand!"

[kiatheinsomniac]

ooo how about.. how would the assassins (your usual bunch) react to an s/o who loves and is really good giving the sloppy toppy? 👁️👅👁️

☾ ⋆ ﾟ𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 / 𝐑𝐔𝐋𝐄𝐒 𝐍𝐎𝐓𝐄𝐒: it's been a while since I wrote some ac content hehe 𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐑𝐀𝐂𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐒: altaïr, ezio, connor, arno, jacob 𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒: MDNI, NSFW content, smut, oral (m. receiving)

｡･:*˚:✧｡altaïr ibn-la'ahad

♡ oh altaïr just loves that about you. He'll kindly ask for you to give him head after a long or frustrating day as he wraps his arms around your waist from behind and kisses the back of your neck, breath fanning over the shell of your ear to seduce you (not that it takes a lot seeing as this is something you love to do).

♡ altaïr is the type to have you on your knees beneath his desk - it's one of his favourite places for the two of you to do this when the door is locked. He often has to pour over paperwork and letters and it's the least favourite part of his job.

♡ so, he'll just sit back, spread his legs to make room for you and set a hand upon your head as you get to work. He'll pet your hair and just feel the way you bob your head up and down as he loses himself in the sensation of you swallowing him down your throat and he'll be sure to remember this the next time he's stressing over work

｡･:*˚:✧｡ezio auditore

♡ oh Ezio is just thrilled that you enjoy giving him blowjobs so much. To begin with, he was very insistent on returning the favour but you've made it clear to him that's it's not necessary because you're not only doing it for him, you're doing it because you enjoy it. He never really asks for you to do this for him because he knows you'll do it of your own volition anyway.

♡ Ezio never seems to live alone throughout the franchise so I imagine that he prefers to do this in hidden places instead: maybe some secret spot of his down by the river arno, in some ruins in roma or perhaps in the tunnels beneath it, upon some rooftop with a view of costantinopoli's unique skyline. Either place is public, sure, but no one really goes there at the times he brings you there and so there's only the slightest risk of being caught.

♡ he tries to keep any groans and moans to a minimum so that the two of you won't be caught but he just loves to murmur words of praise to you all while you're down on your knees. He likes making you look up at him with your pretty eyes while you're down there. He lets you take the lead physically but he'll enjoy commanding you to go faster or slower or to take it deeper or use your tongue.

｡･:*˚:✧｡ratonhnhaké:ton | connor kenway

♡ he's quite shy about it but he'll never refuse you. He feels a little bad that you give him oral much more than he returns it but you've reassured him time and time again that this is something you're doing for the both of you and not just him so it's ok! He never, ever has any complaints though.

♡ seeing as Achilles' injury means he rarely leaves Davenport Manor, you and Connor often do this out in the woods around the homestead in a specific area that the two of you frequent just to be intimate together without having to worry about keeping things down so that the old man downstairs won't overhear you (you'd both be beyond mortified).

♡ Ratonhnhaké:ton knows he's big so he'll let you have complete control over what's going on. He'll have his hands on your head but it's mostly to just comb his fingers through your hair while he thanks you and tells you how good you make him feel through muffled whimpers as he bites his lips. He might tug your hair when he gets close to coming but he'll apologise the moment he realises he's doing it too much.

｡･:*˚:✧｡arno dorian

♡ as much as Arno respects that this is something you really love doing and he does like getting head from you, he's the type that genuinely prefers to give oral than to receive it. But at the same time he wants what will make you happy so he lets you have your fun.

♡ Arno tends to only do these things in private with you so this will mostly only happen in his home at the café-theatre or maybe in the club hall beneath it when he knows no one will walk in on the two of you.

♡ as said above, Arno prefers to give oral than to receive it and so his compromise is that when you want to give him oral, the two of you will often sixty-nine. He just loves having you sit on his face while your lips wrap around his cock and he can taste you on his tongue while he can feel the vibrations of your moans.

｡･:*˚:✧｡jacob frye

♡ Jacob thinks your mouth is absolutely incredible. He loves that you're always so eager to give him head and just how good you are at it. He's not too shy to spread his legs apart to make room for you while he pats his lap to beckon you over.

♡ If you're in a train carriage alone, Jacob will lock the doors, draw the curtains that look into the other carriages, and will set a pillow on the floor for your knees so that you don't get uncomfortable. He's not against a quickie here or there in some semi-public place where you could get caught so long as it's not somewhere dirty - you're a lady and you deserve better than that in his eyes.

♡ one of his favourite ways of doing this is to have you kneeling or sitting on the floor with your back to the wall, the back of your head touching it. He'll have you look up at him while he lets you take the lead or he starts off slow until he builds up to fucking your face. He just loves the noises you make and he's quick to bring you to your feet and messily kiss you the moment he's done or he wants to move on to something else.

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[thecampfirestory]

them all meeting at a summer camp would kinda make the Campfire name make sense anyway

like if they all grow up going to this camp (which usually have a wide range of ages so it would make sense for them to have met despite their age gap) AND all of them have reasons that would make sense lore-wise why they go to camp (twins + dee and vee have parents who are friends and probably send them to camp to have fun , achilles’ parents are um………………. let’s just say ,,, likely to send him off to camp ,,,, and maybe nate grew up going before Ted decided to stop working as much)

plus also then camp fun and maybe camp counselor twins + dee ….? :3

actually this is so good hang on.

Dee, Cadmus, and Florian being camp counselors for the first time after being campers

Vee is there bc. Dee as well

Achilles doesnt wanna b there but kind of prefers This over being with xyr dad

Nate maybe could be new in town and wanted to give a shot to summer camp to make new friends bc school year was already over when he got there and spending the summer alone on a new town didnt seem super fun to him

Maybe.

Nate and Achilles befriended first. Dont ask me why, their friendship just clicked

Achilles didnt like Vee at first bc they were WAYYYY too enthusiastic about all the activities and kind of. had sort of a "teacher's pet" attitude w the camp counselors (thats because the counselors are THEIR SIBLING and their sibling's FRIENDS, you dummy)

[darlingsart]

Would you tell us about your patrochilles modern au with Pyrrhus? What are you hcs?

Sure thing!

So in my mind I imagine this whole thing started when Patroclus got into a great university overseas (I’ve always imagined Achilles like a year younger than him) so he ends up going and they try out the long distance thing for a while but it’s never quite right so they decide that taking a break might be best. Achilles is dramatically over the top heartbroken so his mother tries to set him up with a coworker’s daughter, Deidameia.

The one time they do go out, they end up sleeping together but it’s a one and done deal and after that they don’t see each other again.

Flash forward a few years later, Patroclus is finally finishing up his degree and getting ready to come back home so they agree to get back together and try this whole thing again. For the first few months that Patroclus is back, everything is bliss, they get an apartment, Achilles has a good job at his dad’s company (an easy job where he barely does anything and gets paid a ton of money. Yay for nepotism) and Patroclus is busy with grad school. Things are going really well! Until Deidameia shows up at their door one day with a three year old kid and tells Achilles that he’s the father and thus begins their journey through parenthood lmao

(More under the cut bc there’s a lot lmao)

Some head canons I have:

-At first they have joint custody of Pyrrhus which pretty quickly turns to full custody

-Pyrrhus is a little energetic menace, he’s always in trouble for something

-I’ve said it before but I love the idea that Pyrrhus prefers Patroclus over Achilles. Like let’s say Achilles tries to make him something to eat Pyrrhus is quick to say “That’s not the way Pat makes it!” And is always like WELL Pat does this like this, etc.

-I would imagine that Patroclus wasn’t thrilled about any of this at first because while Achilles did tell him he went on one date with someone else, he failed to mention that he had slept with this girl so this entire situation catches him off guard. BUT he ends up bonding with Pyrrhus pretty quickly

-Achilles is the type of parent who solves Pyrrhus’ tantrums with ice cream or sweets bc like what the heck else is he supposed to lmao and Patroclus is always like you’re gonna spoil his appetite

-Thetis is an overbearing grandma who’s just happy to have a grandchild, she’s always visiting with gifts and such

-Weekend trips to the zoo/museums/parks, lots of fun stuff together which Pyrrhus seems to appreciate even if he doesn’t always say thank you

-Pyrrhus is kept on one of those kid leashes until he’s like 7 because he can’t be trusted not to bite someone else’s kid or get into something

I’ve got so much for this au I’ll have to write a fic one day 😅