treepigeon
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Pantalone glances towards the thick wooden doors that lead to his bedroom, and imagines Dottore above him, those gloved hands around his throat as they fuck each other senseless. Maybe he would get to see beyond that mask, finally.
Tsaritsa, it was a tempting decision. It really was.
But he’s so afraid of regretting it. What if he wakes up tomorrow, and it was the wrong thing to do? What if Dottore holds it over his head, blackmailing him into doing whatever he wants him to?
What if he finds out that he likes it a lot more than he thought he should?
Or, in which a war is coming, a bet is made to destroy the Heavens, and the Regrator finds that his frozen heart might not be so frozen after all.
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- English
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- 65/?
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Bookmarked by treepigeon
30 May 2026
Bookmarker's Notes
ch65 💕💕💕💕💕💕💕💕💕💕💕💕💕💕💕💕💕💕💕💕💕💕💕💕💕💕💕💕💕💕💕💕💕💕💕💕💕💕💕💕💕💕💕💕💕💕💕💕💕💕💕💕💕💕💕💕💕💕💕💕💕
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"The only way I'm better than your previous dead subordinates is the fact that I'm still alive. And I haven’t disappointed you."
"Yet."
"No," Feofan insists. "I won't."
At twenty, Feofan loses everything he has ever worked for. In the aftermath, he meets the Second of the Fatui Harbingers who makes an exception.
(This should not be perceived as a good thing.)
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Thetis knows her son has the power to burn the world. And without the gentle hands of Patroclus, he can finally ignite into what he was always meant to be.
And yet, as she watches her son’s life collapse before her eyes, she realises what the prophecy really meant.
It is not the death of Hector that kills Achilles, it is the death of Patroclus.
Or, Thetis puts aside her hatred of Patroclus for a second to stop him from dying. Patrochilles get the happy ending they deserve.
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a lesson in love by liionne
Fandoms: The Song of Achilles - Madeline Miller, Greek and Roman Mythology
24 Aug 2014
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"You have to go." Achilles says, and his hands are on Patroclus' chest, but they aren't pushing. No- he's doing a lot of things, but he's not pushing. He's memorising the feeling of smooth skin beneath his hands, and he's counting the pulse that thuds beneath the right, committing that to memory too. He's feeling the rise and fall of his best friend's chest - best friend, boyfriend, lover, whatever; they all feel like synonyms now - and he's meeting those dark brown eyes with his own. "If my mother catches you here she'll kill you."
"I know." Patroclus murmurs, but he makes no move to go.
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I am missing half of my soul.