#from bee

[est-pulcher]

Okay, sound off: Favourite Homeric simile/metaphor

[atlas-hyperion]

the truth, oh backstabber of mine

snippet of a rhack soulmate lovers-enemies-lovers au I started recently: soulmates can’t lie to each other, rhys is a honeypot (semi-inspired by an ao3 fic) assassin working for maliwan.

It always starts the same. It’s always Rhys, pressed up against the wall by Jack. It sends a thrill through his body—the possessiveness of it all. He never used to like stuff like this, so he’s not sure why this is different. Breaking away from the kiss, Rhys tries to catch his breath. Cupping the older man’s face, he takes a risk and fiddles with the mask’s right-hand clasp. Jack’s surprise and anger is almost palpable, but Rhys doesn’t know why he doesn’t stop.

“Pumpkin, don’t—you—what?” Jack, uncharacteristically stutters through his sentence. He pauses for a few seconds before perking up. “You’re really something else, you know that?” Rhys is pretty sure he hums out a response, too distracted to adequently reply. Well, we can’t have that.

Rhys’ peripheral vision is hazy, though he’s not sure whether it’s from the tunnel vision on Jack or because he’s lacking oxygen. Everything’s just fuzzy and warm. He needs to clear his mind, he does, but he also tucks his chin down to try and hide his blush. He bites his kiss-swollen lips as he tries to find the right words. Once he’s sure of what he wants to say, he glances back up, staring up at the Hyperion CEO.

Injecting a coy look into his eyes, he takes a deep breath, then—

“I’m—actually a corporate honeytrap spy slash assassin sent here to steal Hyperion secrets and I’m sleeping with you because I really do like you but also because if I don’t, Maliwan will send assassins out to kill me.”

Rhys doesn’t actually process what he says. He was going to tell Jack that he loves him - even though he doesn’t, at least not yet. Why couldn’t he say what he wanted to say? Why couldn’t he lie? Lie...he couldn’t lie to Jack!

The firm hand wrapped around his neck, choking the life out of him, isn’t exactly unexpected. The first thought that runs through Rhys’ head is ‘Handsome Jack is my soulmate.’ The thought that immediately follows is ‘This is how I die. My soulmate’s going to kill me.’ Jack pulls out his gun, swinging it towards Rhys’ face like a pistol whip. He closes his eyes. They say it hurts less when you can’t see it coming.

But the hit never comes. Eventually, Rhys pries his eyes open to find the gun pointed directly at his temple—at his ECHOport. He waits for the shot to come and wonders what death feels like. Surely, Hell’s problems are just exaggerated, right? Cause Rhys sure isn’t heading up to Heaven. Not with his ledger.

They hold eye contact; it feels like an eternity but is in fact a brief second, after which Jack drops Rhys onto the cold metal floor. He lands on his metal arm, which sparks and screeches in protest, as if crying out in pain. “You better hope I never see you again.” Jack grits out, glaring with hate in his eyes. Even from his position sprawled on the floor, Rhys can see anger warring with betrayal in the older man’s eyes.

The look pierces him to the core, and despite it all, he can feel tears well up in his eyes. No, no, this can’t be happening! He was supposed to get a happy ending! His soulmate was supposed to be the one person that would understand why Rhys did what he did. After everything he went through because of one little mistake as a kid, his soulmate the one nice thing Rhys was allowed to have! No, no, no!

Jack holsters his pistol, never looking away from Rhys sprawled out on the floor. “Take the next ship off Helios. Go wherever the hell it takes you. I don’t care where, as long as it’s not here.” Jack turns around, sparing Rhys one last look of disdain. Rhys watches his soulmate walk away, leaving Rhys half-naked and alone in the executive hallway. Jack’s last words before the door closes behind him are “Damn it, heroes don’t kill their soulmates. And you’re a hero, Jack.” 

Rhys snaps up into a sitting position, his robotic hand clutching at the front of his shirt, scratching his chest. His breaths come out erratically and strained and he doesn’t realize he’s hyperventilating until his ECHOeye flashes him a warning about elevated heart rate. Wiping the sweat beading off his forehead, Rhys glances around at his temporary room. Just a dream. He runs his flesh-and-blood arm through his hair, and huffs out a nervous chuckle. It’s always a dream. Of course. That’s why he’s been stuck on Pandora for the past five years. Rhys holds back the urge to start laughing uncontrollably. Just a dream.

[eljayetc]

When you get a random card from one of ur best friends and it makes your whole week 💜💚💜💚 ily @bethany.k.d

[est-pulcher]

People will call themselves classicists and have no idea what form the aegis took

[est-pulcher]

Who was gonna tell me that Sulla only had one testicle?

[est-pulcher]

How are you people out here supporting the muse? They're literally glorifying the wrath of Achilles 🙄

[est-pulcher]

Classics scholars will recommend a "recent" piece of scholarship and its something published before the reunification of Germany

[est-pulcher]

Nothing beats reading the most insane take about the odyssey only to scroll down and see the Epic the musical tag