let's drink to extinction

there are hands. rough voices speaking languages you know little of. dragging you through the sandy beach to a hut nestled among the flat plains. getting tossed at the feet of some of the major grecian commanders - menelaus, odysseus, diomedes, nestor, agamemnon. all bold, ambitious, legendary warriors and conquerers in their own right.

your blood suddenly runs ice-cold. diomedes being the one to get up from his seat, drawing his blade and putting it to your throat. he towers above you, the boar and lion motifs decorating his armor seeming to come alive in the firelight. he carries himself with an air of austerity, yet dignified still. those lapis-blue eyes are hard, the furrow in his brow evident. his mouth is set in a grim line. " answer me, woman. why were you skulking about my men's encampment in the night? to curry favor with the argives? the achaeans? to betray troy? or was it that we sacked your temple to aphrodite and you wished revenge? "

silence breaks across those gathered in the small space, all eyes on the king of argos. your clothes once pristine, now stained by dirt and mud. you swallow, throat bobbing and lifting the blade some. cold steel presses into the soft flesh of your jugular. your gaze was defiant. blood dripped from a split lip, eyebrow having gained some cuts as well. " you defiled one of aphrodite's sacred places in the wilds. i watched your men sever the heads of the high priestesses, death for those who dared run. you set our beds ablaze, raided our larders. your soldiers forced themselves upon my friends, hearing their screams and cries as their wills broke. and even now you tie me up like some beast. have you no compassion? no caring? " your wrists struggle in the bonds, a boatsman's knot so tight that you swore you could feel bruises forming. a wad of bloodied spit lands at his feet, teeth bared like a wildcat ready to pounce. " how dare you speak to one of the epigoni, descendant of tydeus, one of the seven against thebes, a king in his own right! how dare you raise your voice to the master of the war-cry! " a hand grasps your hair in a tight grip, the roots crying out for pressure release. your head's yanked back, allowing you to peer up into the olive features and wild, dark eyes of the man who'd grabbed you. " enough, Sthenelus. " came the thunderous bark. a command, not yet a statement, but as a warning. ring of metal signaled armor, meant movement -- or perhaps a helm set aside. the quiet hiss of a sword returned to its' scabbard. suddenly, pressure on your neck having vanished.

i know everybody goes ham over ody x dio ( the bros ), and ody x dio x penelope ( ot3 ),

but like

i just wanna

write some diomedes x reader fic

because the many, many fannish interpretations are good and all,

i just want. him.

troy: fall of a city wasn't exactly a good retelling ( i know ) but my favorite actor was in a few episodes and i'd be damned if i'm not gonna jump on this hyperfix train

himmmmmmm 🥰

must resist the urge to write diomedes fic

MUST. RESIST.