Art trade of Achilles and Patroclus for @niarchery! She gave me a few different ideas to choose from, but I knew I wanted to draw her suggestion of Achilles in drag seducing Patroclus. If you haven’t read The Song of Achilles, Achilles has to hide as a woman for a good deal of time until Patroclus comes to rescue him, and while this scene might not be entirely canon, it should be. Hope you enjoy, Nia!
Bites on my shoulder, marks like inverted piano keys.
Scratches on my back that he creates like sheet music. Simon whispers in my ear, “This is better than music, isn’t it?”
This is better than music, better than music //
I hate that he’s right. When he’s dead and gone, I won’t be able to listen to music without remembering what it was like to hear it live. To feel music on Simon’s skin, freckles scattered across shoulders I think about whenever I pick up my violin.
Be a song for me //
Music isn’t a thing, music isn’t a place, music is Simon. He is Julliard, he is a priceless Stradivarius. His voice is the first melody I hear in the morning and his good night whispers are my lullaby.
You are my zietgeist, set me fucking free //
“Stop thinking,” he teases in the darkness of our bedroom, hand sliding down my back as I arch my spine up. I relish the pain of contorting my body underneath the black shadow of his wings and the lightness of his smile.
I have never felt more like a cello, more like a harp, more like an instrument, as my body sings beneath the pads of his fingers.
Of course he’d tell me not to think. That’s what he does. Music never thinks, it acts. It echoes around the room, and fuck, does he echo. His violent, wonderful bursts of existence that used to make me think of fire and doom but now they are a symbol of what life is supposed to look like.
Set me fucking free, stop these fucking thoughts //
He is a rhythm that thumps in my veins, he makes me want to get up and move my feet to the beat.
I’ve fought, I thought, stop these fucking thoughts //
“Stop writing music,” his tail seems to tell me, as it coils around my left ankle. Our bed feels like it’s suspended in a place where time doesn’t exist.
You are my zeitgeist, set me fucking free //
I used to only have that feeling of timelessness when I went to a really well-done orchestra performance, with an ornate stage and well-trained musical masters.
But now I find it here too, with Simon, in all his recklessness. He somehow creates an entire album every night, in the moans that escape my throat and the rustle of the comforter falling to the floor. The sharp slam of the bedside drawer, the silent movement of those fucking wings, the smirk on his face that creates dimples.
This is better than music, this is almost abusive //
He makes the music without realizing, he is the music without realizing, and I write the lyrics. I can’t help it, it’s something intrinsically compelling that forces me to match his actions with my words. That’s what we’ve always done, first as kids, then enemies, and now as everything we are.
Please read my mind, stop these fucking thoughts //
“You aren’t immortal,” he whispers, and I huff into the space between his shoulder and neck.
He knows I’m always thinking about that. A yawning, stretching infinity that I won’t be able to handle without him. I can’t do it without Simon, loudly and recklessly making music, becoming music, no matter where he is.
I whisper, “I can’t help it.”
Be a song for me //
Much later, when his body is a crushing weight above me, suffocating my worries until the morning light, I end the night the same way I always do.
I press a kiss to Simon’s temple, tangling my fingers in his curls, and close my eyes with the ghost of a fully written song write behind my eyelids.
I never write them down, but I never forget them. I don’t truly know if I’m immortal or not, but if I am, I’ll always have these.
Have you ever shipped something so hardcore that it literally gives you butterflies in your stomach when you see your ship together, talking, looking at each other and every little movement gives your chills?
Ha, of course you have, it’s tumblr but still… my otps are giving me so many feels tonight! *cries* they are all so beautiful:’)
Oh my god. A car, a touch, a death was heartbreaking. You are so talented. But I can't stand the thought of sad Tyler. Could I have an imagine with TONS of Tyler fluff xx
(Y/N is part of Twenty One Pilots in this one, that’s why she’s the one playing the instruments besides drums and not Tyler.)
“How are you guys tonight?!” Y/N yelled into the microphone.
The crowd cheered, screaming out things that she couldn’t hear. Y/N felt a rush of excitement. The crowd’s screams seemed to ignite her bones.
“Tyler’s still getting dressed, so we’re gonna have to wait for a few minutes. I think he’s looking for his shirt, spoiler alert: I’m wearing it.” She said.
“I know you are. And now I’m wearing yours.” Tyler said into another microphone.
Y/N turned to see Tyler wearing one of her black t-shirts. It clung to his ribs, making him look smaller than he was. He looked adorable in it. Tyler liked seeing Y/N in his clothes anyway. They fit her fine, considering Y/N and Tyler weren’t the same height, his clothes were baggy on her in places. It made her look so childish, and Tyler loved it.
“Wow, hot.” Y/N said.
The crowd screamed again as Tyler wrapped an arm around her and kissed her cheek. She smiled leaning into him. He hadn’t been this cuddly with her in quite a while. He didn’t want to stop.
“Alright guys, you already know I’m with Y/N. If you want to know why or how, check YouTube, or Twitter. Or something else, I don’t know, I’m old.” Tyler said.
“It’s okay, baby, I’ll change your diapers for you.” Y/N said.
The crowd laughed, and Tyler grinned at her, shaking his head. Tyler found that his stool was in the middle of the stage, far away from Y/N. He didn’t like that one bit. Tyler grabbed his stool, dragging it over to Y/N’s side.
“Who put the stool all the way over there?” Tyler mumbled, his microphone barely catching it.
“Why? Where else would you want to sit?” Y/N replied.
They were trapped in their own little world for a moment. Talking quietly, not realizing their microphones were picking up every word. The crowd watched in silence, entranced by the love in Tyler’s eyes.
“I wanted to sit next to you.” Tyler replied shrugging.
“Why?” Y/N asked.
“Because I love you, you dweeb.” He replied.
The crowd screamed at that, pulling them out of their little bubble. Y/N blushed deeply, kissing Tyler’s cheek.
“I love you too.” Y/N said into her microphone.
The crowd screamed, but there was a small chorus of ‘boo’s as well. Tyler paid them no mind as he leaned on Y/N’s shoulder.
“Alright, we’re gonna start off with We Don’t Believe What’s On TV. Now, I know I told you all that I wrote this for Jenna, and… I lied. Every love song I’ve ever written has been about Y/N. I’ve known Y/N for a really long time. Like, what? Six years?” Tyler turned to Y/N.
“Yeah, a little more than that, I think.” Y/N replied.
“Yeah, and I wrote a ton of songs for her. She wasn’t even with me for most of them. So if you ever hear a song by us that’s about someone, it’s probably about her. Or Josh, he’s my buddy.” Tyler said.
Josh smiled at Tyler, who winked back. Y/N giggled, making Tyler smile at her. Everyone in the crowd could see how much he loved her. The way he seemed to gravitate towards her, the way he sometimes couldn’t take his eyes off of her. No one could deny his love for her.
“Alright, let’s start the song.” Tyler said.
Josh started the song, and Tyler watched Y/N strum his ukulele smoothly. Tyler had always admired her skill. She seemed like she could do anything to Tyler. Tyler sang right through the song, walking around on stage but always returning to Y/N.
Tyler cupped her cheek, kissing her gently as a the song neared its end and the crowd sang it for him. She smiled, kissing him back, and they drowned out the sound of the screaming crowd for the sake of the moment. She gently placed her hands on his chest, pushing him away. He smiled at her as he screamed out the last line of the song.
“I now understand why they put your stool in the middle of the stage, Ty.” Y/N said.
The crowd laughed as Tyler clutched his chest with a hurtful expression on his face. Y/N playfully shoved him, and he fell to the floor dramatically. Everyone laughed harder as he did.
“Alright, next is Car Radio.” Tyler said.
Everyone screamed the loudest anyone’s ever heard. Tyler laid on the floor as he sang the song, watching Y/N play the piano. After the song ended, Tyler flapped his hands around. Y/N walked over to him, helping him up.
“Thanks, baby.” Tyler said into her microphone.
She shook her head, sitting back down on her stool.
“Alright, we’ve got like ten more songs to do before the show’s over. You guys ready for that?” Tyler asked.
Everyone cheered loudly, and Tyler grinned.
“Alright, Migraine, let’s go.” Tyler said.
They flew through the ten songs easily, this was just another concert. Maybe not in Tyler’s mind, every concert was different, but it was a concert nonetheless.
“That’s all folks!” Y/N said, making Tyler chuckle.
“Thank you for coming, and remember to stay alive!!!” Tyler screamed.
And with that Tyler, Josh, and Y/N walked off of the stage.