or hector or whatever

to make up for the lack of men/grooms in the wedding banner,they should give us a full focus of hot summer male units

give me lifeguard Ike, shark tackler Ryouma, fierce volleyball spiker Marx, king of sandcastles Hector, whatever goes they just all have to be shirtless and glistening under the sun after a brisk swim in the ocean

Nice to meet you. Taken.

Originally posted by freekicking

It’s already my third week away from home, away from Italy. I’ve moved out as I got accepted at a University in the U.K., University of Essex to be more specific. As I wanted to get used to the place and get a job before my studies start, I moved two months earlier. Gladly my parents have an old friend who owns a couple of hotels in London and he let me a room to stay until the university accommodation halls were open to move in.

To be fair, I wouldn’t have been able to do this if it wasn’t for my friend Savvas. Savvas is one of those friends you make during summer holidays as a kid that you lose contact when you are back home but then when social media happen you search their name and there they are? My dad is half Greek so we have been to Greece a lot of times for holidays. When I was eleven years old I met Savvas at the beach one day when my eighteen year old cousin completely ignored me while flirting with some guy. For the whole month I was there, all he was doing was bullying me about how horrible my greek sounded. Well okay to be fair that was not the only thing that he did. We always set a time to meet the next day at the beach, we would stay there until the sun was down or until our mums would come and kick our asses for sitting under the bright burning sun without any protection. Then I had to go back to Italy again. Three years ago I decided to look his name up on facebook and thats how it all started again. Endless conversations. He was the one who made me come to the UK. After he signed a contract with Arsenal he was forcing me to make applications for the universities there.

And here I am now. Having a part-time job, a small hotel room in north London and a great childhood friend by my side.

“I’m going to get the drinks, when you are done if I’m not here waiting for you then come and find me at the bar.” I nodded and made my way into a toilet. Today was the day we’ve been waiting for two years now. Drake’s concert.

“Yeah mum.. no mum.. yes mum.. okay mum.. I said I’m not drinking that much mum relax.. yes mum.. MUM GOODNIGHT!” I ended the call and walked closer to Savvas who was already there waiting for me with two cocktails and two guys that I’ve never seen before.

“Be more polite to your mum!”

“If you want to know she basically called you a rapist because she gave me the lecture of ‘don’t drink way to much tonight and don’t sleep at Savvas place’ so not only I defended you but you also lecture me too.” I said sarcastically as I gave him the most ironic smile ever.

“Yeah even if I was a rapist I wouldn’t have gone for you because if you will be taking as much time as you are taking in the toilet then no! I have been waiting here for like twenty minutes!” now his friends who he wasn’t polite enough to introduce me to, were barely holding their laughter.

“Sorry! My fault that there is queue in there longer that the queue to drake’s bed!”

“Whatever! Anyway. This are my friends Alex and Hector in case you don’t already know them and they invited us to their VIP box because they are all there.” I’m not sure what he meant by all but I turned around to face the two guys and gave them my hand to introduce myself.

“Elizabella.” I said and gave them a smile looking at them for the first time.

“Nice to meet you, we’ve heard a lot about you.” They both said smiled back at me.

“Well I’m not sure if it’s nice for me to meet you as if you are friends with Sav, you are just like him and that is not so nice. And please whatever he said about me, ignore it. It’s probably lies.”

“See! See! And then you ask me why I hate her!”

It has been one of the most beautiful nights I’ve had by far since I moved here. I don’t know if I’ve stopped dancing and singing with Alex at all. Basically, everyone in that VIP box was so cool and they were all party animals. They were almost all of them footballers of Arsenal but from the first team. Savvas is sometimes training with the first team so I guess that’s why he became friends with them. Sadly, the night had to come to an end there I was again in my lonely hotel room. I haven’t actually seen them again at all except from Alex and Rob who came out with Sav and me two more times.

A month passed and here we are to October where I am officially at my new room at the university halls. This weekend I’m staying over at that hotel room in London again as it’s Sav’s birthday and we are going to a greek club. I don’t really know why I agreed on that because I’m not really into greek music but yeah sometimes it’s cool. What confuses me more tho is that Alex, Hector, Rob and Carl have agreed to go to and they don’t even speak greek.

“The guys are coming, I’m going out to let them in.” Savvas shouted into my ear as he wore his jacket.

“Coming with you.” I just didn’t want to be left alone with any of his greek friends. I don’t even remember their names and most of them don’t seem to like me so staying there alone would have been more like hell to me. I grabbed his arm gently and followed him as he pushed through dancing bodies to get out of the club.

“It’s freezing how can you make it be out here with only a bra?”

“For the hundredth time, it’s not a bra! It is a bralette top !”

“Whatever! Still!”

“I would have been surprised if you weren’t fighting!” We both turned our heads and faced the guys laughing at our argument.

We had to wait again in a queue as Savvas obviously couldn’t let us in again without waiting. Hector was kind enough to pass me his jacket even if I rejected it at first. I have to admit he looks a little bit mysterious but in beautiful way. The way he looked into my eyes while placing it over my shoulders made the blood in my veins burn enough to make me warm but I didnt want to give back his jacket. The idea that it was previously touching his body and now it was covering me made me go crazy.

The whole night I’ve been dancing and drinking and dancing and drinking all over again. If I remember correctly I even got on stage when a band came on and danced along to one of my favorite greek songs. I remember savvas saying something something like “What’s left now? You are getting up there again to sing?” and that’s all I needed. I went closer to one of the securities and in a few moments, I was on stage again with a mic in my hands this time singing and not caring how many people were in there. I could spot hector in the crowd staring at me and I couldn’t break the eye contact. I loved the idea that he was all focused on me and I know he realized I stayed on stage just to give him more of me dancing and singing.

It was almost 5 am when we left the club and Alex was driving me, Savvas and hector back home as we were the last ones from the group that actually stayed until that late.

“I’m feeling like I am going to be sick.” I said and opened the car window to get some air.

“Well you should have drank less! How many drinks did you have actually? 15? 20?”

“Sav shut up seriously or I’m going to vomit on your ugly head.” Well this made this even worse. “Actually Alex please stop the car.” And with that I was out of the car nearly on my knees with hector behind me holdin my hair and rubbing my back.

“Are you okay?”

“Yeah I am good thanks, should have listened to my mum’s non drinking advices though.”

“You should.”

“Are you done?” Alex shouted from his seat and made us both get into the car. “You are all staying at my place, I’m too tired to drive you all at you places and for sure I am not letting this young lady over there all alone drunk in a hotel room.”

“I guess there is no space for a no as an answer here, is it?” he didn’t even bother to give me an answer so I just shut my mouth and closed my eyes.

I must have fallen asleep because when I re-opened my eyes I was in a bed with an oversized shirt on me and Alex leaving the room.

“Alex?” he turned around and looked at me. “I think I’m going to be sick again.” And with that he walked me to his bathroom and waited until I felt better. “I really don’t think it’s safe to go back to sleep in this condition.”

“I guess. I’ll stay up with you.”

We’ve spend the rest of the night/ early morning having deep talks about anything and everything. It was around 11 when we decided to go to the kitchen and make some breakfast for everyone. Basically Alex was the one making the breakfast while I was sitting on a chair leaning my head on the kitchen counter in just the oversized shirt and hector’s jacket. I looked like a mess. My hair was a mess. My face was a mess. Everything was a mess about me.

“Morning” A really sexy male morning voice made me pick my head up from the counter and look at another mess, Hector, who was just in his boxers and his shirt from last night.

“Good morning. Um.. Im sorry for wearing you jacket again but it’s cold in here and alex wouldnt turn on the heating as he claims its not cold.”

“It’s fine don’t apologize.”

“Thanks.” I smiled and placed my head on the counter again and looked at Alex while he was fighting to cook whatever it looked like pancakes.

I’ve spend the following hour just watching alex and hector fighting about their cooking skills and actually hector lecturing alex on how he should have been cooking and correcting him on whatever move he was trying to make. I couldn’t stop laughing the whole time.

“Ain’t no way I am eating that!” Hector said as he picked a pancake from the plate and threw it again back in. That was it. Alex picked the same pancake and shoved it into Hector’s mouth. I swear he was choking for at least ten minutes and I just couldn’t stop laughing.

“Then you complain about me and Sav fighting! You are worse than us!” I said between my laughers.

The rest of the day went like that. The four of us bullying each other, laughing all the time. The first one to leave was savvas as he had to meet some other friends and then there was hector.

“Wait, Hector!” I said and made a move to remove his jacket off of me but his response made me stop right there.

“Keep it, until the next time.” And before I could even reply he was already gone.

“Hey, Alex, can i ask you something?”


“Is Hector single?”

“No, he is in a relationship i think for a year now? Why?”

“N-Nothing just a-asking.”


Hope you liked it! Let me know if you want a second part and if you want let me know what you think will happen next!

Let me know as well if you liked it.

Also if you are wondering who Savvas is, his name is Savvas Mourgos and he’s playing for Arsenal. (check him out)

Pirate AU

A Simple Softshell:

“Mister Laurens!” called the steward, “I was just on me way to fetch you meself!”

“What’s going on up there?” John asked, tucking the end of his cravat into his vest, coat thrown over one arm. He’d always been a light sleeper, but the commotion on deck would have been enough to wake even the deepest dreamer.

“The captain wants to speak with you, Mr. Laurens.”

“I see.” John pulled on his coat as he bounded up the stairs.

The stars were unusually bright tonight. The wind bit John’s cheeks ferociously, and his hair was already coming out of his queue and whipping his face. The organized chaos of all-hands-on-deck ebbed and flowed around him as he made his way to the sterncastle.

“Captain Shrewsberry, sir!”

“Mr. Laurens! That was quick.” The captain quickly finished giving orders to his second mate, then turned back to the wheel. The second mate shouted something unintelligible, and half a dozen men ran below deck.

“I was already coming up. The steward said you wanted to speak with me?”

The captain’s face was dark. “We’re going to be boarded.”

“What?” John exclaimed. He turned round, and sure enough, a ship was swiftly approaching The Carolina, almost on top of her.

“At first,” said Captain Shrewsberry, “I thought she was another just trading ship on her way to Charleston. But there’s no mistaking one of the most feared silhouettes in the Atlantic.”

“That little ship?”

“She may be small, but the Heart of Oak has a reputation for making entire ships and crews disappear altogether.”

The ship was approaching startlingly fast. Laurens could now make out the shapes of men on the deck. They were not moving, but standing like night-blackened statues on the deck. No light emanated from the ship, save the glint of the moon on bare cutlasses.

“Do they…have any mercy?”

“No. The captain is a fearsome man whom they call the Little Lion. He has been known to set enemy ships ablaze.”

“Does he…?

“The Lion takes no prisoners.”

John swore. “What are you going to do, Captain Shrewsberry?”

There was a long pause. Then the captain lifted his chin and set his face into adamant defiance. He looked the way John had always imagined Hector would, when faced with a grief-maddened Achilles.

“I will do whatever I must to save my crew.”

John nodded.

“Mr. Laurens, now would be a fine time to hide belowdecks.”

“No, sir. I am no coward.”

“I figured you would say as much,” said Shrewsberry. “Go, then. Do what you need to do to prepare.”

John dashed belowdecks. He retrieved the pistol from his trunk and, not bothering with a queue, quickly bound up his hair again so it wouldn’t interfere with his vision. Laurens left his journals, fossils, and samples as they were–the products of his research were likely the safest things on the ship.

By the time he returned to the upper deck, the ship was already being boarded. The Heart of Oak was still cloaked in darkness, but her crew came into the light as they scrambled across planks laid between the ships. They were an unusually motley crew–clothed in everything from French cravats to the vibrant skirts of West Africa. John noted with surprise (and in spite of himself, piqued curiosity) that over half the crew were black men. Even The Carolina, whose captain was a free black man, was manned mostly by white sailors.

Although every man on deck held at the ready some sort of lethal implement, neither crew attacked.
John’s hand tightened on his pistol. He swallowed.

The last two figures crossed the planks, one black and one white.

The brown one was massive in stature, and dressed smartly in a crimson coat. Although his arms were currently occupied in transporting a stout barrel between the ships, moonlight glinted off the two pistols holstered at his belt.

The pale man was short and slight–the Little Lion, John guessed. His attire was dashingly flamboyant: a long green coat with red cuffs and lapels hung open and unbuttoned, revealing the pistol stuck through his belt as well as the rapier sheathed there. His tricornered hat was complete with gold piping and a large red feather.

The crimson Goliath set the barrel in the middle of the deck. The Little Lion mounted it. There was something wild and powerful in the man’s visage–all shadows and color and boldness of posture–standing over them like a god demanding their awe and homage.

John had been waiting for battle his whole life, and it was not supposed to be like this. It was honor and glory and screaming, not silence and staring at one man like he was an angel announcing the birth of a second Christ. The only thing that was as it should be was John’s heart thudding like it wanted to break free of his chest.

For a long moment, no one said anything.

When the Lion finally spoke, it was not a roar, but a calm question: “Which one of you is the captain?”

“I am.” Shrewsberry still stood at the rudder, higher up and in control of the entire ship. Two could play at this game. “My name is Captain Malcom J. Shrewsberry of this trading ship, the The Carolina, and all her crew. Her crew belong to me and I will see them return to Charleston safely.”

The Lion raised an eyebrow, either at Shrewsberry’s speech, or his visage, or both.

“And what of her cargo?” He asked. “Have you any slaves aboard?”

“This vessel trades in Carolina rice and Caribbean rum, not in people.”

“Do you have any bondsmen in the crew?” asked the man.

“I assure you, there are only freemen in this vessel.”

The Lion glanced to each other.

Then the Lion said: “Do you know who I am?”

“You are the one they call the Little Lion.” Captain Shrewsberry stated.

The man grinned. “Aye. And do you know what I do with men who cross me?”

“You kill them.”

“And how do I kill them?”

“You set their ships ablaze with the whole crew still aboard.” The dread these words of Shrewsberry’s struck into the hearts of crew was a tangible thing.

“And do you know what I’m standing on, Shrewsberry?”


“A barrel of gunpowder.”

Angry, frightened murmurs shot through the crew of The Carolina.

“Stop with these games!” shouted Shrewsberry. “What do you want?”

“What do you have?”


“That’s the most ridiculous lie I’ve ever heard. You’re a trading vessel, you’ve got something.”

“It’s the truth. You caught us between ports. We sold our rice for gold at St. Croix yesterday and we’ll use that gold to buy sugar cane at St. Vincent.”

“Absolute rubbish. Why would you do on two islands what could be done on one?”

Because they had a naturalist aboard who insisted they take as many detours as could possibly be justifiable so he could study the flora and fauna of different islands.

John swallowed hard.

“Special interests.”

The Lion cocked an eyebrow again. Still looking at Shrewsberry, he said:

“Pierre, Kebba, go belowdecks and see if he’s lying. Take whatever we can use.” Two of his men cautiously made their way below deck, careful not to come near any of the enemy crew. “Ajax, go find out what this ‘special interest’ is.” The man in the crimson coat followed the others below deck. The captains studied each other.

After what felt like hours, Ajax returned, holding a burlap sack suppressing a grin.

“Found your special interest,” he said. John’s heart skipped a beat. The Little Lion peered into the bag.

“What in the…” Realization dawned with burst of laughter. “You’ve a naturalist aboard? You’re going all the way from St. Croix to St. Vincent’s…for natural philosophy?”

“And not just any naturalist,” said Ajax in French, “A naturalist by the name of John Laurens.”

“Laurens?” The bemusement vanished from the Lion’s face. “As in, Henry Laurens?” John’s heart fell to his stomach. Ajax nodded. The pirate on the barrel began to dig through the sack. “What relation? Brother?”

Ajax handed him a packet of envelopes. “Son.”

I am such a fool, though John as the pirate captain read the signatures on the letters. An absolute idiot.

The Lion looked up, at Captain Shrewsberry. For a pregnant moment, he seemed to grapple with some internal dilemma. John, moving very slowly so as to draw no attention, slipped his pistol into a pocket in the lining of his coat. His sister had added the pocket for the purpose of carrying samples John might find unexpectedly. John prayed it could also conceal a gun.

The two men returned from belowdeck. One of them handed Ajax a bag. A conversation ensued between the captain and his three men in a language John didn’t understand.

The one of them slipped back into French, “Other than that, we found nothing, Captain. Nothing we don’t already have too much of.”

“Luckily,” said the Little Lion. “Ajax did.” In English, he called, “Which of you is John Laurens?”

John uttered a silent prayer and stepped forward. On the other side of that step, he decided it was playing into the enemy’s hand. So he kept walking, striding purposefully toward the barrel, making members of both crews part for him, until he stood directly in front of the barrel, face to face with the pirate captain.

John had strode too close; he could smell oranges and rum on the other man’s breath, he could count the freckles on the other man’s face under dirt and sun-brown, he could see in his impossibly blue eyes the moment when something in the Lion’s gaze snagged on him. Well, at least John could take pride in knowing he’d surprise this capricious king of theatrics.

Then John felt a prickle of cold at his chin. He’d let himself get distracted staring defiantly up into the Lion’s face and had missed the moment when he unsheathed his claws.

The pirate captain said something in the language John didn’t understand, then jumped down from the barrel. John winced; the man had kept his blade at Laurens’ throats all the while, and John could feel a few drops of blood bead and slide down his throat like sweat. One of the pirates was holding a torch over the barrel.

Ajax handed the bag to his captain, who tossed it at the feet of a Carolina sailor. Gold pieces scattered across the deck. The Lion positioned himself behind John, one arm holding Laurens captive in what felt like a lover’s embrace (or would have, if Laurens left arm were free), the other holding a dagger to his throat. The pirate’s left hand was splayed wide on Laurens’ chest.

John hated this pirate, for rendering him impotent and vulnerable. He hated his heart for betraying his fear under his enemy’s fingers. But then a faint pulsing sensation on John’s back vindicated him–the harrowed heartbeat of his captor. Even the Little Lion himself was a subject to fear, it seemed.

They were equals.

“Use that,” said the Lion to Captain Shrewsberry over John’s shoulder. “To get back to Charleston. I want you to deliver a message for me. Tell Henry Laurens that whatever his son is worth to him, I want double in ransom.”

the zeros

requested by anonymous

AU in which youre part of the zeros, and you meet 10k, and things go exactly where you think they will

The first time you meet him you it’s with a gun pressed to his head. He has his own digging into your temple, both of you in a silent standoff, neither dropping their weapon.
“Don’t make me pull the trigger.” You warn. He doesn’t say anything, his own fingers tightening around his gun.
It seems that neither of you are going to walk away.
Then the bomb blows you off your feet.
You land flat on your back, the world buzzing around you, breath knocked out of you. You cough the blood out of your mouth, rolling onto your stomach, trying to get your bearings. You see the boy with the gun sprawled a few feet away from you, a Z in a white coat slinking towards him, moving differently than any other Z you’ve ever seen. You pull your aching body to your feet, and reach for your machete, gripping it in your hand. You move right behind the boy, lifting the blade. The Z stops, staring at you for a moment, before turning and running away.
You don’t know why you save the boy. You just know that you can’t let him die.

Keep reading

Nice to meet you. Taken. (2)

Hector Bellerin Imagine: Part 1

Originally posted by shkodranmustafi

As weeks passed me and Sav’s friends came closer. Especially with Alex. That guy is so funny and he doesn’t even try. Of course he is always bullying me just like Sav does and maybe worse but it’s not like I don’t bully him either. What I like the most is that he is being so over protective around me because he claims that even if I turned 18, I’m still underage and not an adult. As for talking about me turning 18. My birthday has been the best and the worse day of my life at the same time.

I wasn’t planning to do anything special other than going out to a club or something but Alex insisted that we had to have dinner first all together so we decided I would cook for them but as my place is far from London, we would do it at Alex’s place. No need to mention the fights me and Alex had while cooking.

As I barely had any close friends in England, other than the boys and a few girls from university, Alex had the incredible idea to ask the non-single boys to bring their girlfriends too so we wouldn’t be just four girls with that many guys at the club. And you know what that means. Hector had to invite his girlfriend Berta or whatever her name she said it was the other day when hector and her picked me up from the train station to drive me to alex’s place. That was one of the worst car-rides I’ve ever had. Hector being all flirty with her and me sitting at the back of the car still trying to figure out what “I would be stupid if I kissed you right now but I would also be stupid if I don’t” meant when he said it two days ago. Or maybe what he meant with all those ‘text me when you are safe and home’, ‘don’t drink too much tonight’, ‘don’t be too late back home’ texts he would constantly sent throughout the previous weeks. Or maybe when he drove all the way from London to my place just to spend the evening with me without even giving me a warning.

Keep reading

Protective Father

“Mummy, Mummy, guess what?” Your little girl had just run in through the front door screaming for you. “I’m in here sweetie.” As soon as she heard your voice coming from the kitchen, she rushed into there, Hector trailing behind her. The look on his face told you that whatever it is your daughter had to say to you with such enthusiasm is something that obviously didn’t please him. You kneeled down so that you were on the same level with your daughter, reaching out to stabilize her and prevent her from crashing into you. “What is it that’s got you so excited?”

The smile on your little girl’s face was infectious, you couldn’t help but smile, even if your husband was standing a few feet away scowling about something. “I have a boyfriend.” As soon as those words left her mouth, you had to do a double take to make sure that you heard her right. Your five year old daughter was telling you that she had a boyfriend. You knew that this would happen someday but you hadn’t expected the day to come so soon. “You have a boyfriend? Who is it?”

The smile on your daughters face seemed to brighten as if she had just been waiting for you to ask that question. As soon as you did, she started rambling about how one of the boy’s at school had come up to her during break time and told her that he liked her and that he wanted to be boyfriend. He had given her a flower and everything. She reached into her bag and pulled out the crushed up flower. You had to smile at the story. Kids were so cute, and your daughter was the cutest, in your biased opinion.

“Well, he seems like a really nice guy.” Your daughter nodded. “Mommy, can I have a play date with him.” You nodded and stood up. “Alright, but first, I have to meet his mom, okay, and for now, go and wash your hands, I’ll make a snack for you.” At the mention of food, your daughter scurried out of the kitchen and towards the bathroom. With her out of the way, you turned to face your husband, whose scowl just seemed to have deepened as your daughter had been telling her story.

“What’s got your knickers in a twist?” Your question obviously didn’t amuse him because his scowl got even deeper. Anymore deeper and his face would permanently become like that. “She’s five, I really don’t think it’s proper or necessary, for that matter, for her to have a boyfriend at that age.” You rolled your eyes. Hector was being protective. “Oh come on, it’s all good fun. I doubt she even really knows what a boyfriend is.” As you spoke, you got closer to Hector. You stopped a few inches in front of him. Wrapping your arms around his, you rested your head on his shoulder, His arms, out of instinct, went around your waist.

“Relax, she’s still your little girl, she’ll always be your little girl, but at some point she will grow up and she will begin dating. We just have to realize that it’s going to happen. Don’t worry though, you still have a few years before it happens. As for this ‘boyfriend’ of her, it’s cute. Just accept it as that.” Hector sighed but you could feel him nodding his head. Placing a kiss at the crown of your head, he said, “Alright, I’ll try. When she does start dating though, nothing you say is going to stop me from interrogating that punk.” You laughed but nodded your head. “Deal.” You knew that when the time came for your daughter to really begin dating, Hector would be nothing if not protective. He was being protective now, so you could only imagine how protective he would be when your daughter brought home her first real boyfriend. Oh boy.

-I hope you like it colourfulsharpie 




JIMMY NEUTRON: BOY GENIUS creator John Davis claims that even though he was once a boy, he was never a genius. Fans of Jimmy, Planet Sheen and the movie Ant Bully will certainly disagree. Hector talks tech with the computer whiz, animation master, and astrophotographer (whatever that is!) and learns how technical challenges can be your best inspiration as we roam Spaceship Earth.

Listen on:

Enormous thanks to John for joining us! 

Keep up with our intrepid host Hector on his own Twitter and Instagram pages. And stay tuned to NickAnimation25 for next week’s podcast featuring Lauren Faust.

Bellamy and Hector of Troy

You guys I am so psyched that we got a little more confirmation of Bellamy Blake, History Nerd with Gina’s gift, but even more so, I am thrilled that it was The Iliad, because do you know what that means?

That means that Bellamy grew up listening to a story about Hector, Prince of Troy.  (Fun fact: Hector was my #1 literary crush as a high school senior, which should explain just about everything you need to know about me.)  Hector is a good, honorable man who loves his family and will do anything to protect them.  He is a man that went to his death to save his brother and who fought nobly for a doomed cause because that’s what heroes do.  

One of my favorite things about The Iliad is that for a Greek poem, the Greeks do not come across looking all that great.  They are petty and vain and squabble over the spoils of war while Hector and and the Trojans behave honorably (we’re gonna ignore Paris for the moment because Paris sucks).  In particular, Hector is portrayed as an intelligent and kind man as well as a loving husband and father.  He is a good prince of Troy–bound by honor and duty– whereas Achilles is all hubris and narcissism and uncontrolled rage.  It’s hard to read The Iliad and not side with the Trojans, and I will bet you good money Bellamy idolized Hector as a wee boy because Hector always does whatever it takes to protect those he loves.

And then in 3x01 Gina shows up with this book he used to love about a man who died to save his people and all it does is remind Bellamy of the monster he thinks he’s become.