ALonePenguin



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  1. Public Bookmark 74

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    Patroclus, on the other hand, would define himself as a disaster at braiding, but despite all this, Achilles still asked him to braid it for him. Patroclus has yet to discover why, because if he were him, he wouldn’t let him anywhere near his hair.

    Especially since Achilles’ hair is so fine - like spun gold. He’d grown out of his natural ringlets at about age twelve, his hair dissolving into waves instead of curls. And now that it was longer, running down past his shoulder blades, it hung down his head like fire in the sunlight. Patroclus was almost afraid he would ruin it if he ever touched it - it was perfect.

     

    or: that one fic about his hair

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    23 Nov 2025

  2. Public Bookmark 52

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    Let me tell you a story.

    It's one of my favourites. A stolen queen. A husband who gathers an army to rescue her from her lecherous captor. A thousand ships from faraway lands all banding together to come to her rescue.

    That story is not the one I will tell you now.

    No, this story involves two boys.

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    23 Nov 2025

  3. Public Bookmark 56

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    Then he asks me. “Would you come with me?”

    I cannot answer him - the words are stuck in my throat. It topples me over, and I lean towards him, pressing his hands to my skin where we are joined. I press my tears into his skin, soaking his fingers, and sob until I can no longer breathe.

     

    or: they don't go to troy, but things aren't always the way we want them to be

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    21 Nov 2025

  4. Public Bookmark 76

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    He undoes the top button, but now that leaves more of his chest on view. His brows furrow, looking at himself.

    Would Pat think it’s okay? He did say they were going to a nice restaurant, but Achilles considers most of the restaurants from this time to be nice.

    He shifts the collar again, tugging at it, but it does nothing. The collar hangs open, showcasing perhaps just too much skin. Too much for a first date, anyway.

    Not that it really feels like a first date - all of these firsts with Patroclus are never firsts for Achilles.

     

    or: another reincarnation au that no one asked for

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    21 Nov 2025

  5. Public Bookmark 29

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    “Don’t die one me, Pelides,” a voice says, stern and strained. “Don’t you dare, do you hear? Just stay with me, okay?”

    He knows that voice.

    The light is taken away, and he is met with amber eyes, a worry etched permanently inside them. It is the color he sees when he closes his eyes. It is the color of warmth, of safety. Of home.

    How did he get back home?

     

    or: a modern-time army au

    Language:
    English
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    30,861
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    8/8
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    17 Nov 2025