#can't stop thinking about Ulysses

[bennymaxxing]

"Who are you, that do not know your history?"

[datura-tea]

i know we all know the reason ulysses is so ignored and maligned by the fandom but sometimes thinking about it just pisses me off. he is one of - if not the most - fleshed out, complex, interesting characters in the game, his canon dynamic with courier six is incredibly compelling, his design is so cool, his dlc is so thought-provoking and god i think about him so much that i could talk about him for ages without stopping, and the only reason i'm so lonesome in my love for him is because a lot of you can't look beyond his skin color to see who he truly is? pathetic!!

[dionysism]

okay fuck it tier list of every greek mythology or greek myth inspired musical i've listened to (so far)

with, if you care, short reviews for each below the cut. i'm like half asleep but take my poorly organized thoughts

paris the musical

this one is my all time favorite of all the ones listed here. the musical scores and vocals are just on another level. it's a rock opera so it's got guitar solos and the songs are so catchy. business is my favorite track i could loop it for weeks. i also love their patroclus characterization and i am obsessed with achilles in this unironically one of my top patroachilles adaptations of all time and the musical isn't even about them 😭😭 AND PARIS... the actual focus of the musical, i love this take on him too. it's kinda comical but also actually tragic at the same time. which i mean. paris is kinda comical but ultimately tragic in general so its fair 💀 things definitely go down differently in this than in the iliad though like agamemnon and the greeks are actually planning to invade troy before paris even shows up to take helen and ulysses (odysseus) is the only one who thinks this is stupid. he does manage to convince the rest of them to maybe Not, but then paris takes helen after what's supposed to be him going there to strike a trade deal. and agamemnon uses that as the perfect excuse to justify something he already wanted to do unprovoked anyway. also agamemnon and menelaus were going to violate xenia and kill paris in their home after making him a guest (again, before he does anything with helen) which was ?!?!!? but like similar to epic this is more like an au to me than a faithful iliad adaptation. i also love this helen characterization and the whole dynamic between hector paris and cassandra i wish i could put them all in my mouth and chew them up

ulysses dies at dawn

this is another great one. i will say this is the only album from the mechs i've listened to and the band itself has a whole ton of lore so there may be details i'm missing but i love it so much. this is definitely more of an inspired by tale—takes place in the future (i think?) on a planet that's entirely machine and metal and all animals and natural life is extinct. and all the characters are named after greek mythos characters and they have similar stories to their original counterparts but adapted to this futuristic universe and it's just so unbelievably cool. also ulysses nonbinary in this?! (the narrator says the records are lost to time and we can't be sure if ulysses was a "man, woman, both, or neither" and only refer to them with they/them pronouns) anyway i won't say too much on this one because the story tells itself and i don't want to spoil but GO LISTEN this album is fantastic

hadestown

this one i think is the most popular/well known on this list so most of you have probably heard of it but i'll still give my review. everything about this musical is incredible. i absolutely adore this take on orpheus and eurydice. and this is a take on persephone and hades i don't totally hate (because usually i do) and the way at times they paralleled orpheus to hades??? there was a quote i read from its wiki page once that sums it up pretty well, from todd osborne, "it is a musical both about how art can save us and how, especially in an apocalyptic world, hope might be the only thing we have left." just such a beautiful musical and beautiful story and the themes and messages like stop i could talk about this musical for hours let me stop

for epic i've already summed up most of my thoughts on it here

theseus the musical

um. i'm not going to lie there's multiple parts of this where i do not know what they are saying. i have auditory processing issues and i usually really need the lyrics and i cannot find any anywhere for this so i'm kinda just going on vibes. but the songs are catchy and i like the parts i do understand 😭 and well i love theseus. dearly. my little princess with a disorder my freakazoid i want to trap him in a jar like a bug and shake him around his enclosure. i'll kind of take literally anything i can get on him

penelope off broadway

full title is penelope or how the odyssey was really written and this is such a fun one. this is a comedy musical and the premise is that the epic poem, the odyssey, actually comes from fake letters penelope wrote to stall the suitors in odysseus' absence. so she's just making shit up like "umm... my men got turned into pigs so i'm gonna be late sorry babe :/" and signing it as odysseus. obviously not the most accurate characterizations but again its more of a comedy spinoff than a faithful retelling. telemachus also gets a cute little romance. (spoilers ahead if you care) they scared me for a second i thought they were having it that odysseus cheated penelope and she was gonna leave him but that's not the case and it has a happy ending so <3 this one is just so funky and silly like if you want a lighthearted not super serious musical you will love this it's really adorable and the woman who plays penelope's voice is incredible like omg some of the high notes she hits??? woah

jasper in deadland (tw suicide mention)

this one is also an inspired by/based on tale where jasper (orpheus) follows his friend agnes (eurydice) into deadland in an attempt to get her back from what was either an accident or a suicide attempt (but most likely suicide) he runs into various figures from greek norse and egyptian mythology and like it wasn't bad or anything really the songs just weren't catchy enough for me. i'm not gonna lie that's literally my only issue. i just cannot get into it and listen to it multiple times if it's not catchy enough. but the plot is cute!!

percy jackson the musical

i just don't personally care for percy jackson, sorry. never really did. you'd think as a greek mythology obsessed child i'd eat it up and i mean as a kid i did like it a little but i don't know it just never hooked me. i've tried to get back into it but it's even less enjoyable to me now unfortunately. the songs weren't catchy (to me) and i didn't like the lyrics either. it's not necessarily a bad musical. it's just not my thing

aristos the musical

sorry it just kinda felt like tsoa the musical to me and i immediately couldn't enjoy it 😭😭 that's literally all i have to say

[hevthevoidling]

So I don't know if I am just being incredibly paranoid, or that everyone else is not being paranoid enough.

But uh, what is stopping Fable from seeing through Victor's eyes? What is stopping him from just using Len's power and just finding out where everybody is hiding?

I guess it could be that Fable can only use one aspect of a god's power at a time and since he is keeping up the watchers and looking through them, he can't access the cat?

On the other hand Victor apparently has not left the room Ulysses lives in. And that makes me think that the cat knows. He knows how much danger he could put his friend into by prancing about, but he also knows that he can't leave, because that would be cruel.

Oh and the newest Ulysses vod is not making me feel any more positive about the Ulysses situation.

[citrus-moonlight]

Salvation is a Deep Dark Well

Chapter 3: Now When I Look In Your Eyes

[ Masterlist - Part Two ] -> [ Masterlist - Part One ]

Fandom: MCU - Age of Ultron, Black Panther Pairing: Ulysses Klaue x F!Reader Word count: 9.4K Chapters: 3/6 Rating: Explicit

Summary: You manage to distract yourself for long enough to make through the rest of the day, but when Klaue finally returns to you he still makes you wait, surprising you with something unexpected before finally making good on his promise.

Warnings: Explicit!, Mild Age Difference, Reader is Late 30s, Use of Pet Names, Teasing, Smut, Dirty Talk, Reference to Masturbation (F), Mild Size Kink, Soft Dom, Nipple Play, Oral Sex (F!Receiving), Begging, Overstimulation, Multiple Orgasms (F), PIV Sex, Cock Riding, Cream Pie, Praise Kink, Needy Dom, Very Brief Fingering, Cum Eating, Porn With Plot, Reader is In It Now Kids, More Accidental Feelings Oh No

Author's Note: Hello, friends, and welcome back! When I tell you I'm very glad I split up this chapter - this was essentially supposed to be a chapter "prologue" of maybe 2k, and then, well, *gestures broadly*. Klaue wants what he wants, what can I say. 😏

The next chapter is going to be an undertaking (gala!), and I can't really give a timeline at this point, but it's at least outlined and in the meantime you can read their little holiday interlude (which I accidentally wrote first, lol) and it'll now be in order! ☺️

As always, thank you for reading and for sticking with me, I hope you enjoy this next chapter! 💕

✨ Read on AO3 ✨

Chapter title is from "Come Alive" by Cannons

Now that you're by my side I get this feeling, get this feeling Like I'm hypnotized Now when I see your eyes I get this feeling, get this feeling I just come alive And I've been dreaming of you Do you dream of me too?

Through every ounce of will you can summon you somehow manage to last.

After stopping by your room to quickly wash and change, you realize once you get back to the industrial sector that there’s not enough of your shift left to justify starting on any new projects, so instead you occupy yourself with busy work - finally putting away your station that was left in disarray after the tense altercation earlier, and getting rid of everyone’s scrap that's been piling up in the workspace.

Then you trudge through a layer of fresh snow to finally finish the inventory that you’d attempted to start two days ago before everything had gone to shit.

Even as you try to focus on the tedium of the various tasks you inevitably find yourself turning over Klaue’s request - his command - in your mind.

Honestly, you probably wouldn’t have done more than think about it, having really just been wanting to tease him (which you’re starting to enjoy doing, perhaps a little too much), but on top of the natural frustration from being interrupted, then being told that you couldn’t? 

He'd managed to find a way to drive you mad even when he was nowhere near you.

Waves of heat roll through you as you make entries in the log, and every time you move you’re growing increasingly aware of the slick sensation between your thighs, a reminder that you’re already making a mess of your fresh panties.

And, so? What do you want?

Besides whatever he’ll give you.

Besides everything.

A thick index finger slowly sinking into you, dragging and curling while his thumb rubs your throbbing clit until you’re shaking.

Another tick on your paperwork and you circle the total a little more aggressively than necessary, leaving a little tear in the paper, ink marking the page beneath.

Locking up the first cage you move on to the next, feeling as though plumes of steam should be visibly rolling off of you, and eyeing a snowdrift you wonder if it would draw too much attention if you just lay down on it face first. It seems like the only thing that might actually cool you off right now as the overlap of memory and anticipation has an aching heat wrapping around your hips and flowing outward from deep in your belly.

His thigh pressed against your sex, but now you're bare for him, the hair on his leg dark with your arousal as strong muscles flex beneath you, and this time you rut against him for as long as you want.

And he's the first man who's made it feel like it’s alright for you to want. Unafraid of your desire Klaue instead seeks it out, coaxing you to surrender to it, pushing you to admit that it’s yours until you can't help but take and then, oh, the satisfied darkness in his eyes when you do.

As you continue to work you wonder if maybe he’s feeling the same way you are right now. Does it make him hard to think about you while he deals with his men and speaks to important figures? Is he shifting and adjusting himself at the thought of how needy you must be but forced to deny yourself?

Or is he calm, knowing that even now there’s a way that every thought is tethered to him, not thousands of miles away but right here in the same building, waiting.

The idea of him being distracted pleases you, but certainly does nothing to help the throb in your core. You think about how easy it would have been to find a release when you’d stopped by your room, and now you're growing so distracted that you’re tempted to go back or to slip away into a washroom. It would be quick with how worked up you are and then maybe you’d be able to actually concentrate.

After all, how would he know if you did?

And yet a part of you knows that it wouldn’t be satisfying, not really. That same part that connects to the tugging desire to be good, that wants him to be pleased that you’ve obeyed.

So you shake your head and fall back on a trick you use to help curb your emotions when you’ve had to deal with shitty people throughout your career, starting to rhyme off words in your head - glow, tomorrow, elbow, tempo, Orinoco Flow. Gradually your mind begins to calm a bit, and after several slow breaths the ache ebbs enough that you’re able to focus back on the tanks and the clipboard in your hand.

Once you settle into a rhythm you manage to finish the inventory pretty quickly, even if can’t completely stop your mind from spinning a little, and as you lock everything up and head back to drop off the paperwork with Tom, you finally have to admit to yourself that you knew what your answer was going to be as soon as Klaue told you to decide.

Several hours later the sun has fully set when you open your door to the welcome sight of Klaue standing in the hallway.

You want to reach out for him, to grab his shirt and pull him to you, but for now you simply watch as he walks in and slowly shuts the door behind him and turns to face you.

“Did you have enough water?” 

You can’t help but huff a laugh that the first thing out of his mouth is to make sure you’d listened to what he’d said, even though he must be more than aware that all you want is for him to throw you onto the bed.

“I’ve been drinking.” You assure him, though you can’t help rolling your eyes a little. 

His gaze narrows, not questioning but still eyeing the half-empty bottle on your nightstand.

“And you’re feeling alright?”

“I’m feeling like I might lose my mind if you don’t touch me soon,” you all but scoff.

“You know what I mean, darling,” he warns, sharp eyes flicking down to your lips.

For the love of god, please just kiss me.

“Still good, Ulysses, I swear. And I promise I’ll let you know if I’m not.”  you reply, sweetly frustrated, but you can’t help but smile at his concern.

He seems placated, but still doesn’t approach you.

“And did you work past your shift?”

You swear to god one more question and you’re just going to throw yourself at him, though this one still gives you pause.

It had been your instinct to, you can’t deny it, tempted to find more to occupy yourself so that you wouldn’t be quite so trapped with your thoughts. But you’d resisted, and once you passed off the paperwork there was no real reason to stick around.

“No. I didn’t.” 

You feel a little silly at the giddiness that follows your truthful reply and the pleased grin that twitches at the corner of his mouth.

“And you waited.”

These words are lower and there is no question in them. 

You’re certain that he already knows the answer, that he could tell as soon as he’d walked in the door. You’ve been antsy, unable to stop shifting on your feet, your restless hands unconsciously picking up your scarf from the table by the door and twisting the short fringe into tiny spikes during this exchange. 

“I did.” 

Slowly he steps toward you, plucking the scarf from your fingers and dropping it back on the table.

“I’m glad to hear it.” His voice drops, your breath hitching in anticipation when a hand lifts to finally reach for you.

But then he pauses, fingertips a hairsbreadth from your skin. Seeming to consider something he pulls back again and you have to bite back the frustrated noise that wants to escape your throat. 

“Come with me,” Klaue moves away from you, nodding toward the door. 

“I’d very much like to, thanks,” you think, the tingle of the near contact leaving your nerves buzzing, but while you're nearing your wit’s end you can’t help but be curious about what he’s thinking. 

Steeling yourself with a deep breath you nod wordlessly, but as you walk over to grab your key card from the bedside table you make a quick decision. Following the temptation of a thought that you’d been considering earlier you slide open the drawer to find something hidden within, quickly pocketing it along with the key and your phone.

Before you’ve gone very far, though, Klaue directs you to the canteen. You can’t say that this is what you were expecting but you wait quietly, curiosity knitting your brows as he starts to work one of the machines, hot water pouring over a black tea bag as he adds a packet of honey to the dark, steaming liquid. But then instead of drinking it himself he hands it to you.

“I know you didn’t drink enough water,” he chides.

Your mouth drops open though no words come out. 

You want to laugh, acutely aware that you both know the reason for the tea. Eyes wide, you glance around and even though you know that anyone who might be watching will continue on oblivious, when your eyes meet his heat flares between your thighs as you recall the tears that stained your cheeks while you gratefully licked his mess from your lips.

“Thank you.” Your heart races as you bite back a smile and finally wrap your fingers around the proffered drink, and then with a darkening look you feel a hand on the small of your back, swiftly guiding you on your way.

You really had felt fine but as you sip the hot liquid you have to admit that it feels nice as the honey soothes your throat, a frown and another swallow of your tea unable to tamp down the flutter in your chest that seems to match the sweetness on your tongue.

When you reach a familiar juncture you wonder if he wants to finish things where they’d started, but then you make a different turn and then another, leading you away from his office until eventually he stops in front of a door that appears to be down its own hallway. 

The cup freezes on its path to your lips when you notice the key card in his hand and the realization suddenly hits you: These are Klaue’s quarters. 

Oh shit.

It hadn’t even occurred to you as a possibility tonight. Not that you hadn’t thought about it - in fact you’d thought about it more than a few times - but you still feel like a deer caught in the headlights as the lock beeps and clicks open.

Your heart pounds as you follow him inside where you’re greeted by an insistent pinging coming from a workstation in the corner, and with an impatient sound Klaue walks to the desk with a scaled down version of what you’d seen in his office.

“Hm, I need to check on this. I’ll just be a minute.” 

You barely hear him. He could have very well told you that an Asgardian ambassador and the Queen of England were waiting for a video call with him and you’re not sure that you would have reacted. 

As you wait for him you force the analytical side of your brain to kick in and try to observe some of the details, noting that his room is almost identical to your own quarters, just bigger: An open layout, a closet in the same spot, but with something that could actually be considered a proper window. 

The main difference is the additional space akin to an office with the desk and electronics connected to several monitors, which doesn’t really surprise you: Klaue doesn’t strike you as the type to ever really stop working - at least not for very long.

Aside from the cool light emanating from the corner where he’s sitting the room is dim and unexpectedly warm, and as you look around your eyes inexorably stray to the bed (his bed), partially made, the covers and sheets a stoney grey and roughly pulled up to where crooked pillows sit against the headboard and- 

Jesus, you need to sit down. 

Unfortunately the only place to sit right now would be the bed, which just makes you need to sit down even more, and-.

Oh god.

Squeezing your eyes shut you take several slow inhales in an attempt to get your pounding heart under control.

“So..” 

You nearly jump at the sound of his voice, and when your eyes fly back open you see that he’s finished, the monitors now sitting dark behind him.

“Have you decided, darling?” Klaue’s words are deceptively casual, belying the heat in his eyes.

He’s back now, focused entirely on you again, chin propped against his knuckles as his hungry gaze slides over your body, and you can’t help how your own eyes immediately stray to his spread thighs and the prominent ridge between them that’s growing evident even in the low light.

“I have.” You manage to keep your voice soft, but you can’t hide the tremble in your reply.

Pushing himself up out of the chair Klaue slowly saunters over to where you still haven't moved, stopping when he's close enough that you can feel the heat of his body, invisible tendrils of need reaching out for him, desperate to close the gap.

“And?” The word is low and breathless and sets your nerves alight.

Finding it difficult to meet his eyes your teeth catch your lower lip, a shy flush working its way through your body even as your desire flares hot again. 

“Well, it wasn’t easy.” You glance at him through your lashes. “I had a lot of time to think. And there are so many ways that you make me feel good.” 

As you speak he finally reaches out to you, fingers grasping the hem of your shirt and tugging it up until you lift your arms to allow him to pull it over your head.

“Go on.” Klaue prompts, leaving you to swallow a moan when he suddenly drops to his knees.

Looking up at you expectantly his hands slide up the backs of your thighs, briefly cupping and squeezing the curve of your ass before moving to your waist to seek the bare skin there.

“Well, I was thinking about…letting you watch me.”

Fingertips still in their ghosting path just above your waistband.

“I thought about letting you watch how I use my fingers to make myself come when I’m alone here. Alone and wishing you could hear me every time I moan your name.”

You can see that his breathing is going rough at your words, and licking your lips you continue.

“Or maybe…using this.” Slipping your fingers into the pocket in the side of your leggings, you pull out what you’d tucked next to your phone earlier, shining silver and not much bigger than a tube of lipstick.

Brief confusion followed by a sharp look of understanding flashes across Klaue's face as he realizes what you’re holding.

“A vibrator?” His voice is intrigued, a brow arching as he takes the small device from you and turns it over in his fingers, perhaps imagining you using it, writhing in pleasure yet unsatisfied because it’s not him. 

But at the same time you can tell he wasn’t expecting this, his expression coloured perhaps with a shade of disappointment. And that shouldn’t make you feel as good as it does. 

He looks like he’s going to say something but holds it back, he’d laid out the parameters, after all. He’d told you that you had to decide how you were going to come, but he didn’t actually say that it had to be him.

“I thought about you watching me with this against my clit, until you decide I’ve had enough. Until I beg you to let me stop.”

You can see his mind working though he’s uncharacteristically quiet, the fingers of his free hand digging into your hip so hard it’s beginning to ache.

“But…then I changed my mind.” 

“Yeah?” Klaue’s voice is strained as he seems to go still as stone, hardly seeming to breathe now, waiting for you to continue.

“I want your mouth, Ulysses.”

A look of pained relief glints across his eyes before hardening back into a vehement blue, and without waiting for you to say anything else he roughly tugs at the waistband of your leggings, peeling them halfway down your thighs, and then with a groaned sigh his lips are suddenly pressed against your clothed mound.

“I was hoping you’d say that.” 

Klaue’s breath is warm through the fabric of your panties, his tone indicating that it may have been less hope and more desperation. 

“Tell me why.” His command is the rumble of a distant storm that sends a shudder through your body.

“Because…I couldn’t stop thinking - I can never stop thinking about it, Ulysses, oh-” 

You gasp when his tongue is suddenly on you, pressing to easily part your cleft before sliding down to taste the damp spot where your arousal has soaked through the fabric.

“Is that all?” He asks with an infuriatingly coy smile, waiting for you to continue. 

“I need your mouth between my legs, I need you to taste what you do to me, what just the thought of you does to me, oh my god-”

He rolls his tongue against your clit, the slick friction quickly growing rougher and more demanding. 

“And because…because I can feel that you want it too, and that makes me feel really fucking good.”

Arching against his mouth your words trail off to a moan, but just as pleasure begins to swirl hot and insistent Klaue pulls away, his fingers tugging your panties down as well, and your hands brace on his shoulders as he helps you out of everything.

“There’s very little in this world I want more, darling. I love feeling how wet you get when you’re desperate for my tongue."

As you watch his fingers moving it occurs to you that he often seems intent on being the one to undress you, calloused palms running over the skin he's revealed, that's his to reveal, eyes dark and riven with need as though seeing you for the first time.

Once you’re stripped down to only your bra he pauses, hands fitting around your waist, forehead resting against your hip. Warm breath washes over your skin and although he’s so, so close to where you’re aching for his touch you find yourself pausing with him, your mind growing quiet.

It’s a different kind of quiet from the way he so deftly empties your head with his fingers or his cock, every thought supplanted by pleasure. There’s still a trembling anticipation that can't be ignored, electricity buzzing steadily through the air between you, but for a moment you both surrender to the calm, hovering in that space between heartbeats.

Your hands explore the backs of his, playing over his rings, over the leather cuff on his wrist, and when they trail over his forearms you can feel the faintest tremble in his muscles as he holds you against him. 

Your fingers find a salt and pepper curl and brush it away from his face, needing to see him, the breath nearly knocked from your lungs when his shining blue gaze finds yours. He almost looks surprised, perhaps unused to your tenderness, but after a breath the crease between his brows softens as he leans into your touch. 

It’s not long, though, before the air begins to crackle again and with his eyes still on yours he shifts, slowly dragging the tip of his nose along your cleft with a deep inhale and a sigh, and just that warmth against your sensitive flesh has you whimpering, the calm quickly ebbing away as your aching need swiftly flows back in.

Your hips flex forward to seek more and your breath catches in anticipation of his tongue, but instead he pulls away, and before you have a chance to protest he's standing again, reaching quickly to unclasp your bra, sensing a crack in his composure in the brief fumble of his fingers as they work the metal loops. 

Now standing naked in his room Klaue moves in close enough that as you breathe the peaks of your nipples brush against his still clothed chest, and when he leans in you instinctively tilt your head.

“Tell me again.” Lips ghosting across the skin beneath your ear sends fresh heat to your core.

“I need your mouth, need you to make me come on your tongue.” You pause before adding. “As many times as you want. Please.” 

“That's right, you will.” Klaue replies, his voice low and tight with need. “Now, on the bed, darling.” 

Without hesitation you quickly make your way over to sit on the bed, the scent of him swirling around you as you adjust the pillows and settle back, and when you glance back up you're greeted by the intoxicating vision of Klaue standing at the foot of the bed, fingers frozen on the bottom button of his now open shirt.

“I can’t tell you how many times I’ve thought about you here in my bed.” He says with a rough sigh, fingers freeing the last button as his gaze slides up your legs and over the soft swell of your breasts.

“Can’t be more than the number of times I’ve thought about being here.” You admit in turn, a smirk beginning but quickly falling as you watch him peel off his shirt, muscles flexing beneath the ink that paints his chest and shoulders.

“I have to say, it seems I was right, Mot.”

“About what?” You frown.

“About how lovely you’d look, right there.”

Caught off guard by the sweetness in his words a reply falters on your lips, and you squeeze your thighs together as though it might help you to hide from the way he makes you feel. But of course he notices.

“Would you spread your legs for me, please?”

Biting your lip you meet his eyes and begin to slowly straighten your legs, sliding them down towards the foot of the bed before letting your knees fall open. At first it’s just enough to give him a teasing peek but the heat of his gaze has you helpless to keep yourself from him. 

Spreading your legs wider you pull your knees back and open, and when the cool air hits you exposed skin you’re immediately aware of just how wet you are, and not just your sex - you can feel the insides of your thighs have become damp with your arousal as well and judging by the look on his face he can see it.

Slowly you shift down a bit more, giving a little upward rock of your hips for his benefit as you tuck one hand up behind your head, letting the other rest across your hip, attempting to look much calmer than you feel.

Following to where you’ve made a lovely display for him on his bed he removes the last of his layers, freeing the deliciously thick curve of his cock to hang heavy and twitching between his thighs, and standing above you he tilts his head appraisingly. A flush of heat crawls through every inch of your body as he takes a moment to drink in the sight of you, then slowly sits down on the edge of the bed..

Reaching out a hand he lets his fingertips alight on your knee before dragging them up over the skin of your inner thigh, his eyes staying fixed along the path they take, watching intently as your muscles flex and quiver beneath his touch.

“Not my fingers, then? You’re sure?” Klaue teases, smirking when your hips cant up against the air. With significant effort you manage to drag your thoughts away from how good it feels, how easy it would be to let him relieve the ache in your core.

“YesI’msure,” you blurt in a rush, quickly reaching down to stop his hand where it hovers inches from your sex.

“Both hands.” He says quietly, eyes flicking above your head in explanation. “And keep them there. Understood?”

“Yes. I understand, Ulysses.” You nod, the vice of your fingers slowly releasing him.

Once you’ve tucked your hands up and between the two pillows you’re resting against, he seems satisfied and moves the rest of the way onto the bed, positioning his body over yours.

He’s warm and heavy and you can feel the grin when his lips find the hollow of your throat, your hips beginning to roll slowly beneath him, acutely aware of his hard cock nudging against the inside of your thigh.

“I’ve thought about you here like this for so long.” Klaue murmurs, his tongue tasting your skin, trailing slow kisses up one side of your neck and then down the other, making his way down your chest before pausing at your breasts.

Then you think you hear something else, something quieter, whispered against your heartbeat.

“Want to keep you here.”

But you're distracted by his mouth again before you can really register the words, overwhelmed by how you’re already trembling and clenching just from the drag of his lips across your inflamed skin, and maybe you imagined it anyway. 

When his tongue flicks over your nipple none of your thoughts don’t stand a chance, a moan immediately sliding from deep in your chest. He spends just enough time on each to leave them peaked and aching, but when he starts to move further down you stop him.

“No, wait! More please, please..”

You look down at him, breathless and imploring, arching your chest up to encourage him, sighing with relief when his tongue returns to swirl over the pebbled flesh, and soon you’re moaning again as he alternates from one to the other, kissing and sucking until you’re writhing beneath the solid weight of him. 

Just when you think you can’t take any more he holds a nipple between his lips, just the very tip of his tongue flicking quickly until an ache starts to build deep in your belly, everything growing hot and tight and then suddenly your back is arching hard as you let out a broken cry, and while his tongue continues to work a hand cups your other breast, his thumb circling there in a matching rhythm as your cunt clenches around nothing. 

It doesn’t have the same peaking intensity but it still feels like you're coming, like if he keeps doing this you just might, and only when he pulls away does the desperate tension finally release from your muscles with a gasp.

“Another night I’m going to find out how many times I can make you do that.” He looks up at you, his expression more than a little smug. “But right now I think it’s time I made good on my promise, don’t you?”

You’re unable to respond with more than a nod, still panting and shuddering as he resumes his path downward. Your skin shines in the low light as his lips and tongue lave along your stomach and over your hips, and as he finally reaches the juncture of your thighs Klaue adjusts himself, setting there so that he’s lying with his erection pressed firmly into the mattress.

He pauses then, using his thumbs to gently spread you open for him, his mouth hovering just over your aching sex to let you feel his breath before you feel his touch.

“God, you are soaked for me, aren’t you?” 

Before you can form any kind of reply he presses his lips against you, kissing just above your swollen bud, teasingly close to where you need him so badly that all you can do is whine for it.

“What was that, my darling?” He prompts you, gently taunting.

“I need your mouth on my pussy, please I needohhgod-”

He cuts you off with a flick of his tongue, then another, at first grazing you gently but then unable to resist he licks a hungry stripe through your folds, and the sudden slick warmth combined with the vibration of his moan through your cunt has you greedily rolling your hips.

Watching him as his tongue continues to move between your legs you can sense the tension in his shoulders gradually softening, that tension he holds as part of his natural state, ever curled and ready to react drains away as he gives in to your honeyed musk, his arms sliding around your thighs to hold you snug against his mouth.

You want to reach down, to run your hands over his neck and shoulders and through his curls, but you resist, gripping the pillow tighter in an effort to keep them where they are, not daring to take the chance that he might stop.

But then he does pull off of you suddenly, silently looking up at you with heavy lidded eyes.

“What- what’s wrong?” You pant, confused and trying not to be concerned.  

“You’re not a dream, are you?” Klaue murmurs, resting his cheek against the inside of your thigh, plush beneath the scratch of his beard. He watches you for a long moment as though he were a parched man in the desert afraid that you were a mirage, and if he’s not careful he might lose sight of you. 

“I don’t think so?” Relief floods you and you laugh softly.

“No. You taste too good to be a dream.” 

Seeming reassured his mouth is on you again, lips soft and warm as they slowly, slowly close around your clit, and the gentle suction he adds now has your breath stuttering in your chest.

Your body begins to tremble, and seeming to anticipate it his arms tighten around your thighs just as you buck, keeping you in place as everything grows achingly bright and you arch against his mouth until you’re crying out, the pillowcase twisting in your fists as his hum of approval around your clit finally sends your orgasm surging through you hard and swift, pent up hours of thwarted desire finally finding its release.

And even when the pulsing waves begin to soften, he has no intention of stopping.

At times it feels like he’s trying to tease you apart at the seams, at others it seems to want to devour you all at once, and while Klaue has never been shy about exploring you he seems to relish taking his time tonight, soaking in your heat, teasing and licking every inch of you to find new patterns that make you sigh and roll your hips.

Your desperate pleas grow less and less articulate as his fingers dig into the flesh of your hips so that he can grind your cunt against his tongue, and as overwhelming as it is you find yourself sinking into it. Letting the only thing you need be his mouth against the soft place between your legs you eventually lose track of how much time passes, simply focusing on the susurrus of heat and pleasure that flows out from your center as the sheets below you become soaked with your release.

Eventually when you start to whine and try to pull away Klaue sees fit to give you respite, suckling instead at the sensitive flesh of your inner thigh until bruises begin to bloom there, and as his lips drag slowly across your skin you take the chance to watch him, your eyes catching the movement of his hips, his perfect ass flexing as he slowly ruts against the bed. 

He must be achingly hard now, and you find yourself breathless at the thought of the stain he’s leaving on the sheets beneath him. Fresh heat spreads through your core as you imagine how his cock is twitching and leaking for you, and it’s not long before he notices your needy movements starting to seek him out again, eliciting a whimper when he presses a soft kiss against your clit.

This time, though, he waits, letting his mouth simply rest gently against you, warm and soft and shockingly patient, until just as he senses you starting to fully relax he suddenly sucks your clit between his lips and you’re gasping at the heated pressure around your bundle of nerves, his fluttering tongue unrelenting until you’re his name is the only sound your mouth can form.

Even now, sweaty and blissfully exhausted as he chases the last twitches of pleasure from your sex, you’re surprised that you can still feel the heady swirl of need humming through your tender flesh. And yet, although you have no real desire to pull away, and even though he told you that he was going to decide when you were finished, the thought still tugs from the back of your mind that he’s given you enough.

“You don't...don’t have to keep going.” You manage to stammer between panted breaths.

Pulling his mouth off of you Klaue looks up, his beard and full lips glistening with your juices.

“If you think I wouldn't spend the entire night with my mouth against you warm, sweet cunt." He punctuates this with a firm lick that has a moan lilting in your throat. "Then I'm afraid I'm going to have to work a little harder to turn off that mind of yours."

It's tempting, god it's so tempting to let him continue. You can feel yourself growing dangerously addicted to his unabashed hunger between your legs, yet you can’t deny that there’s a growing need for something else.

Because he hasn’t even put his fingers inside of you, only his tongue occasionally dipping down to tease at your entrance, and you’re fucking aching for more, imagining the arch and flex of his back as he fucks into you instead of wasting it on the mattress.

So you tilt your hips up to give him a more open view of where you’re dripping for him, a soft whine in your throat.

“What's the matter, darling? Tell me.”

“You said- you said if I was good…”

“Yes?” His eyes are fixed on yours as he mouths at the sensitive crease where your thigh meets your hip.

“You said I could come on your cock. And I waited. Like you said.”

“Yes, you did.” He pauses, considering. “But you were a tease, too, weren’t you? Pretending you wanted your little toy.”

Shit. Of course he’d figured you out. Your mind spins quickly, trying to figure out a way to keep what you’d been hoping for from slipping away.

“But I wasn’t lying, I did think about that.” 

“Oh, I’m sure you did. But it was never going to be what you asked for, was it?”

You suck at your lower lip to keep from pouting and you have to swallow the lump forming in your throat. 

What the hell has this man done to you? You’d lost count of how many times he’d made you come already and yet you’re on the verge of tears at the thought of not getting to fuck him tonight. But you hardly get to see him, after all. It’s not fair.

“No,” you finally admit meekly. “Ohh ‘m sorry.”

You whimper when the tip of a thick finger begins circling your entrance, but as soon as you tilt your hips to try to encourage him deeper he pulls his hand back.

“No, please, I need you.”

“Would you like to be a little more specific for me?” Klaue asks, watching your face intently as his finger slowly returns, and you know he can feel the flutter of your muscles as he dips teasingly into you.

“I need you inside me.” Saying it out loud sets an invisible spark alight, pushing out thoughts of anything else as your words continue to tumble out in a rush.

“God, do you have any idea how perfect your cock is? How wet I get when I think about you stretching me open? And I think about it it every fucking day. I need you to fuck me, Ulysses, need you to fill me with your cock and your cum, please I need you so fucking bad, I need you, I-”

The last words are cut off when your voice hitches, fighting to hold back the tears that prick hot at the corners of your eyes. 

Desperate with need you’re only dimly aware that he’s moving, shifting himself to the head of the bed so that his back is against the pillows and then he’s tugging you up, causing you to let out a startled “Oh!” as your hands quickly move to catch yourself on his chest, quickly reminded of how strong he is as powerful arms lift you until you’re straddling his lap.

The thick length of him is hot and achingly hard, and he sucks a breath through his teeth when he slides through your folds, parting your cleft until the head, flushed and drooling, bumps against your swollen clit.

“Since you asked so nicely.” Klaue hums with a satisfied grin.

You’re nearly giddy with relief as you feel another upward flex of his hips, a heated slide of skin against slippery skin, and then you press your mouth against his, moaning when you taste yourself on his lips. He responds quickly, his tongue delving into your mouth, your kiss deep and full of desire as the rock of both of your hips grows more insistent.

Bracing more firmly on your knees you lift up, allowing him to slide further down until your kiss is broken by a moan when his cock catches at your entrance, your muscles already trying to clench around him.

Impatient now you reach a hand down between your legs to grip him, gasping at how hot he is beneath your fingers. He gives you a stuttered groan when you drag the mixture of his precum and your arousal along his length before shifting to line him up with your opening, and then finally you drop your hips firmly down. 

Your head tips back with a sigh as you revel in the delicious ache of his girth slowly nudging into you, his mouth immediately moving to nip at the column of your neck, whispering praises against your skin.

“Needed my cock, hmm?” Klaue's voice pitches low. “That's good. I want there to be nothing else you can think about. Don't want you satisfied unless you're full of me.” 

You feel a fresh surge of arousal at his words, your slick already dripping down his cock as you rock down harder, desperate to fit him inside of you.

“Yes, fuck, you feel so good. You're the only one who's ever made me want to beg, Ulysses.”

His eyes darken at your admission, groaning as your walls clench around him.

“I'm a lucky man, then, because you're so beautiful when you beg, klein Mot.”

Bliss continues to spool out through your body, and you’ve been so distracted by the sweet relief that you’re just realizing that he isn’t moving, that there’s a tension in his thighs and in the muscles of his jaw as he fights to keep himself still, focused only on watching you split yourself open on him. 

Keeping your pace slow you allow yourself to luxuriate in every sensation, in the ridges of his cock as he slides deeper into you, the heat of broad hands roaming over you skin, dimpling the flesh of your thighs and then sliding to grip your ass, spreading you obscenely as you work yourself further down his length.

You’ve never been able to watch him like this and you’re nearly delirious from the sight, from the way he reacts to every flutter of your pussy around him, his arms flexing as his grip on you tightens in an effort to hold himself back. As you continue to ride him your own hands can’t help sliding greedily over the firm muscles of his shoulders, over the hair that covers his chest and belly and then down to where, although he’s softening with age, you’re still you’re keenly aware of the strength that resides beneath your fingers. 

But as good as this feels there’s a frustration building, because although it’s gotten easier to take him he’s still so much, and you’re struggling to take him as deep as you want. 

And judging by the look in his eyes, he can sense it.

“More,” you plead, the movement of your hips growing more insistent.

“What's the matter?” He asks with a wolfish glint of gold. “You said you needed my cock, darling. So take it.” 

His bitten words are harsh, lightning crackling behind his teeth.

A surge of adrenaline courses through your veins as your hands slide around to grip the back of his neck in search of more purchase, fingernails digging crescents into his skin as you rock down harder. You can feel a low growl that you slowly realize is coming from your own chest as you desperately work to take all of him, and determined now you don't stop until your hips are snug against his, every inch of you finally stretched and spread open on his cock.

Breathing through the ache of it you take a moment to savour the prize of him fully buried in you, moaning when you give a firm roll of your hips and feel the slick friction of coarse hair at the base of him pressing and dragging against your folds, your eyes slipping closed with a blissful smile.

“Look at you.” Klaue rumbles, his fingers reaching to brush sweat-damp strands of hair away from your face. “That's my good girl.”

Tugged back by his words your eyes flutter open again as you rise up and slowly drop back down, your breathing mirroring one another as you find a rhythm. When you begin to add a rolling motion in time with each downward plunge you’re gratified when his mouth drops open, head tilting back to knock against the headboard with a groaned curse, though he still watches you through dark lashes, taking in the pleased curve of your lips and the bounce of your tits as your movements start to grow rougher.

Because you’re not sure if it's the angle from being on top and him sitting up like this but every slide of his cock into is you drawing an intoxicating flush of pleasure, tension swiftly coiling deep in your belly and licking a path up your spine as your breath comes in shorter and shorter gasps, and already being so overstimulated you’re unprepared for how quickly you can feel your climax approaching.

“Fuck, that’s it.” His voice is rough with hard fought restraint. “Use my cock like the needy little thing you are.”

Sweat beads on your skin, threads of pleasure stringing tight as the first inevitable surge begins to build, but then your thighs flex and your back arches and with the change in angle and the way your muscles are starting to tighten around him he’s suddenly slipping from where he’d been perfectly rooted deep inside you and you can feel the heated pleasure pulling away. 

You were so close that you can’t get out anything more than a mixture of frustrated pleas, but then his voice cuts through the haze, dark and driving straight to your core.

“No.” Klaue growls. “Stay down.”

Gripping your hips tight he finally takes control, a hoarse cry ripped from your throat as he roughly forces his cock back into your clenching cunt, and startled by the sound that escapes you bite your lip hard, trying to hold it back.

“None of that,” he grits. “You're going to let me hear you, yeah? Because those lovely noises you make, they’re mine. The way my name sounds when you come, that's for me.”

Both of his arms encircle your waist and then you’re surrounded by him, by his grip, his voice, his musk, all of it demanding your pleasure, and your mouth drops open as you succumb to his command with a ragged moan.

Your thighs are burning now as you ride him, but with the edges of your climax gathering again you wouldn’t stop even if you could, and this time when your muscles tense and you buck suddenly against his grip he’s ready, powerful arms holding you in place.

You cling to his shoulders, desperate to hold on to something as you feel yourself tipping, the nearly unbearable friction against your clit drawing everything to a bright point, a silvery haze creeping in at the edges of your vision as you hover over the line between blissful agony and release.

“Going to come so hard for me, aren’t you?” His rasping words are more a plea than a question, rough from the rhythm of your hips as you grind helplessly against him. “So fucking beautiful.”

Finally you gasp a lungful of air as though hitting a shock of cold water and then the breath is forced from your lungs by a sob, tears you hadn't realized were pooling in your eyes spilling over as your orgasm crashes through you, his name falling in a tattered cry from your lips.

Your inhibitions are completely lost as you fuck yourself on his cock, chasing wave after wave of pleasure that rolls through your body and you can feel the rush of your release slicking the skin between you as you fall utterly apart, the heat of it only just starting to ebb when his gruff words bring you back to him, cutting through the din of ecstasy.

“Fuck, Mot don't stop. Need to come in your pussy, I'm-” Klaue stammers, his voice cracking with need.

“Ohh please,” you can only moan through hitched sobs.

Not able to thrust into you the way he normally wants he instead grips you tight, bracing his heels against the mattress and rutting his hips up as best he can while roughly grinding you down, his eyes squeezing shut as he focuses on keeping himself buried as deep inside of you as he can.

“Look at me,” you plead, your voice thick with tears and want.

Klaue’s eyes snap to yours, bright with the flame of a sapphire sacrament  and after a few more broken thrusts he jerks beneath you, the muscles of his thighs flexing against the insides of yours, his bruising grip holding you down until relief floods his features and you feel the first hard throb of his cock, your name a honeyed plea on his lips as he comes deep inside you.

The tension in your body has finally begun to soften and as you regain some control you force yourself to hold as still as you can, wanting to feel everything, to feel every pulse as he spills himself inside you, soaking in the delicious sound of every grunted sigh as the thick warmth of his cum fills you.

He continues to twitch and throb inside you as you both catch your breath, large hands beginning to soothe over your back and sides and then back down to your hips, a satisfied hum rolling through his chest as his touch follows the lazy cant of your hips.

Sweat damp skin slides against skin and your moan matches his when he grips your ass and rocks you slowly up and then back down on his still stiff length, and though he hisses at the overstimulation he does it again, and then again, until wet sounds are filling the room as you writhe languidly against each other, the sticky slick of both of your leaking out from where you’re deliciously swollen and sore.

“God, the only thing better than the sweet taste of you, darling, is how pretty your pussy sounds when you’re full of my cum.”

“Jesus, Ulysses.” Your reply is half moan, half delirious laughter. “You’re going to kill me, I swear.” 

He sucks a breath at the flex of your muscles around him when you laugh, though he still looks rather pleased with himself. 

“Just returning the favour,” Klaue teases, though there's a sweet edge to his smug grin. 

Giving him a watery smile you tuck your head down to rest your damp cheek against the slope of his shoulder, and when you start to work your hands between his back and the pillow he adjusts so that you can slide them around his broad waist.

Gradually you both grow still, the only movement for several moments is the rise and fall of your chests as you quietly rest against one another, the claw on the cord around his neck pressing into you to leave a mirrored indentation in your skin.

Slowly you nuzzle your cheek along the scruff of his beard, seeking every bit of contact he'll give you, relaxing further when the weight of his arms settles around your waist, and as you sit wrapped in each other you allow for the thought that maybe he's just as reluctant as you to untwine just yet. 

And that maybe you did hear him say it earlier.

“Want to keep you here.”

Still, you don't want to overthink what he meant, so for now you let yourself simply enjoy this, here, tracing the salt of inked skin along his neck with your lips, though perhaps still hoping that, for tonight at least, he’ll want to keep you a little longer. 

When you do eventually separate you're both still content not to get up right away, bodies relaxed and half pressed against one another, a hand splayed across a waist, hip and thigh meeting.

You're not sure when he does get up but as you drift in and out of sleep you hear Klaue in the shower, although you have no interest in moving yourself, not caring about the mess between your thighs enough to do anything about it just yet. You might even admit that you're rather enjoying it.

Eventually he returns to where you lie in a half-twilight, your eyes blinking open when the mattress dips beneath his weight.

“You don't have to leave, darling, but I do need to go,” he says. “I won't be able to come back tonight, but you’re welcome to stay as long as you'd like.”

Pushing yourself up you begin to protest but his mouth quickly finds yours, silencing you with a swipe of his tongue. The kiss is firm and slow, a hand moving to cup your jaw, working with his lips to guide you back down to the pillow.

“It's really no problem to go back,” you start when he releases you, “I can-”

He kisses you again deeper this time, a little more demanding, coaxing your mouth open as his tongue slides against yours until you’re wondering what your reason was for arguing at all, and when he releases you this time you can only look up at him with a glassy-eyed smile.

“Rest.” He murmurs, a thumb drifting across your cheek as you nod.

Before he stands to go, though, he draws your attention to something in his hand that glints in the low light.

“I'll be keeping this here, by the way.”

Your mouth forms a silent “o” as you watch him tuck your vibrator into the drawer of his night table and slide it shut. 

“I forgot about that.” You whisper with a bashful smile.

“So did I,” he admits, his fingers tugging down the sheet that's covering you to reveal your naked form. “And when I did remember, I wasn't really in the mood to share.”

His hand coaxes a knee open, his jaw clenching when he catches the mess still shining between your legs.

“But you might not be so lucky in the future.” 

There's a glint of a warning when his eyes return to yours, but before you can say anything you’re gasping when he suddenly slides two fingers into you, thrusting deep before pulling back out and you moan when, instead of offering them to you, he takes them into his own mouth, a satisfied hum rumbling through his chest at the taste of you mixed with him.

You’re still staring at him half stunned when he stands back up, licking his lips as his eyes sweep appraisingly over your body, as though he's trying to commit the image of you like this to memory.

“And you say I'm a tease. Do you have to go??” You try not to sound too needy, though you're pretty sure the way your hips are shifting again gives you away.

“I'm afraid I do, darling. Believe me, if I didn't...” He gives a rough sigh, frustration plain on his face. “But I'm here for two more days, and I will be taking advantage of them.”

“I certainly hope so,” you reply, a lazy smile curving your lips.

He gives you one last look as he closes behind him, and almost immediately you can feel sleep starting to steal over you again. You don't plan on staying very long, though, and as you turn over and tug the sheet back up you tell yourself you’re just going to close your eyes for a few more minutes, however it's several hours later when you open them again and realize that it’s now late (or early, rather). 

Once you manage to orient yourself in the unfamiliar space you have to laugh, entirely unsurprised at this point that you’d passed out almost immediately.

After showering you actually don't rush to leave, but strange as it is to be here without him you find yourself unable to resist the chance to observe his room a little more closely.

While this obviously isn't a permanent space it still has details of him scattered around; you'd noted a razor and shaving bar next to the sink, one of his khaki shirts hanging on a hook in the bathroom.

You take a peek at a shelf by the door, full of books that for the most part you don't recognize or aren't in English, but you do spot Mary Shelley's “Frankenstein”, a small wood carved stingray next to it. 

Hanging on the wall beside the shelf there's a framed photo of the ocean that looks like it was taken by a 35mm camera. Is it from somewhere he's been? Did he take it himself?

Sitting back down on the bed you intend to check your messages but your mind still wanders. You wonder if he does have somewhere that’s…maybe not home, but a place where pieces of him might be a little more embedded, that looks and smells familiar when he returns from time away. Somewhere that he rests.

You know it's time to head back to your room so you can get ready for the morning shift but you’re hesitant to get up just yet. Glancing at the bed and the mussed sheets, your hand slides over the pillow he'd been leaning against, acutely aware of the scent of him surrounding you, and without really thinking you lean down and press your nose into the creased fabric.

Immediately you're overwhelmed by the heady scent of him that infiltrates your senses: His musk beneath the soap, sweat and a faint trace of oil, all tied up with the still present scent of your mixed arousal, and it's only when you take a shuddering breath that you realize you’d been holding back a sob.

Sitting back up your hand quickly flies to your mouth, breath caught in your chest as you blink away the tears.

Shit.

The intensity of it honestly doesn't surprise you anymore, Klaue makes you feel - seems to revel in making you feel - more than you ever thought you could, teasing away the layers, revealing pieces of you that you didn’t even realize had been hidden. 

“I don’t know what this is.”

“And I don’t know if I can tell you.”

None of this feels any clearer now yet there's a certainty settling in your chest, and it feels like that part of you that's been unsteady since you’d met Klaue in Utrecht is finally starting to right itself. And at the same time, maybe for the first time, you feel something unlocking in you, opening to the possibility of perhaps letting someone else help you find your balance.

So although you have no idea where this path leads, you're starting to accept that you aren't going to be able to stop until you find out.

AN: Once again, thank you so much for reading! 🥰 As I said this next chapter is going to be a beast (already trying to talk myself out of splitting it up again if it comes to that, lol), but I'm looking forward to continuing to exploring things between these two idiots, and I hope you'll come along for the ride!

[diamondzoey]

Raine: According to the footage here, you shook the vending machine and when the shake alarm went off, you punched the glass and broke it.

Keres: …I was hungry.

—————————————————————————-

Bloodmoon!Azren: Valentine’s day is just a consumerist holiday that holds no real value other than drive people insane buying heart shaped chocolates for their significant others and pos-

Bloodmoon!Jemma: I wrote you a poem.

Bloodmoon!Azren, already crying: You did?

—————————————————————————

Chester : *About to do something incredibly stupid*

Nash : I know I can't stop you, but I won't let you go by yourself.

—————————————————————————

Sammy, trying their first ever cup of coffee: I am ENERGY!

Calamity, an avid coffee drinker, on their twelfth cup of the day: Someone slap me awake or I am literally going to fall into a coma in ten seconds.

—————————————————————————-

Malachi: :)

Vincent : >:(

Malachi: Turn that frown upside down!

Vincent : ):<

Malachi: Not sure what I was expecting...

—————————————————————————-

Lucy , bleeding out on the ground: Blood loss? No, I know exactly where it is.

—————————————————————————-

Nash : Hey, check out my Spongebob umbrella!

*Nash opens their umbrella while indoors*

Emerald : Nash , that’s bad luck…

Nash : Chill out, Emerald !

God!Chester, kicking down the door: WHO SUMMONED ME?!?!

Nash and Emerald : *screams*

—————————————————————————-

Sorcerer: I give you a cursed amulet!

Vincent : Cool! It’ll make me look cute, and the shadow that follows me will make me more active, I’ll get out more!

—————————————————————————-

Emerald : Sometimes, I don’t realize an event was traumatic until I tell it as a funny story and notice everyone is staring at me weird.

—————————————————————————-

Vincent : I didn’t know that air fryers are a real thing. Used to think that they were made up by the internet as a funny joke and that their purpose was to “fry air”.

Sammy: WAIT, BUT IT FRIES THE AIR TO FRY THE FOOD??

Vincent : I DIDN’T KNOW IT WAS A KITCHEN APPLIANCE, MY FIRST ASSUMPTION WAS SOMETHING AKIN TO AN AIR CONDITIONER!

Ulysses: IT’S NOT LIKE AN AIR CONDITIONER????

Amber: You guys clearly don’t own an air fryer.

—————————————————————————-

Vincent : I just drank a lego piece.

Victor: ...what the hell?! You melted plastic and drank the liquid?

Vincent : Yes.

Victor : Why did you even melt a lego in the first place?!

Vincent : Because it looked like chocolate! So I drank it! You know, like a chocolate shake?

—————————————————————————-

Amber: Guys… the principal just called—

Joan: It was Adriana !

Adriana : It was Azren!

Azren: It was Durate !

Durate : It was me!

—————————————————————————-

Marco : I have a bad feeling about this, guys.

Adriana : Oh don’t worry, you’ll be fine.

Calix: Yeah, what’s the worst that could happen?

Marco , being bailed out of jail the next morning: I hate you all.

—————————————————————————-

Sammy: When I said bring me something back from the beach I meant like a conch shell!

Calix: *Struggling to hold a seagull* Fucking say that next time!

—————————————————————————-

Lamia : When did you become a hero?

Calamity: Um… the moment I saved you from getting killed.

Lamia : You’re the last person on earth I wanted to rescue me.

Calamity: Well… sucks to be you, don’t it.

——————���——————————————————-

Jemma: I love you.

Azren : I love you too. I've waited so long to hear you say that.

*Jemma and Azren kiss passionately*

Vincent , to Easton: You owe me 20 dollars.

—————————————————————————-

Duarte : Good news!

Calix: You found where I hid your phone?

Duarte : ...

Calix: You found your phone?

————————————————————-

Bugs in this

Raine- @willowve01

Keres- @gatorboys22

Azren/Calamity- @strayharmony943

Chester- @not-5-rats

Nash- @lightdragon789

Sammy- @ccstiles

Malachi- @stxph-artist

Vincent/Victor- @littlesiren79

Amber- @astralbulldragon13

Adriana- @idontevenknow7878

Joan- @rustycopper4use

Jemma/Lamia- @diamondzoey (me :3)

Calix- @pinkcocopuff-aqualoid

Emerald- @aspenm00n

Ulysses- @lunaritychuwolf

Lucy- @castbracelet240

Marco- @magebunkshelf

Durate- @puffin-smoke

[just-existing-as-you-do-blog]

I was not prepared for Ocie to explicitly imply that she thinks Centross killed himself. It makes sense that she would think that though. Notably Rae doesn't think that which is interesting because he saved Centross from that previously. He keeps saying that he "doesn't know what happened." While Ocie says "I think I know what happened." Also it's interesting that when Ocie learned about Chaos she took Oscar when she ran from home, but this time she doesn't know she has someone to blame so instead of making Ulysses (cause vorogo) or Ven (cause Chaos) stay away from Oscar she has decided that she needs to stay away.

Oscar is probably going to be really mad at her when she comes back, like he was mad at Jerry because of the Reset. Also Ocie is hitting the stages of grief like a textbook so far so she's been through denial anger bargaining and she's just vibing in bargaining. Like if she abandons Oscar and Jerry then she won't have to watch them die. Even Momboo, the only other person like her is leaving and she can't stop it.

In conclusion this is very in charecter for Kai but it makes me sad.

[sluttyquarantinetheory]

There are many concerning things about the American education system but asking an objective question and getting an objective answer is always going to be a mixed bag.

The College Students Can't Read article doesn't cite a question that people seem to think it implies. Asking "what's your favorite book?" Is not the same as asking "what book made you want to study literature?" Like those are two different questions and likely have different answers for people. My favorite book is Pride and Prejudice. But the book that got me obsessing over storytelling when I was a kid was a book called Five Minute Fairy Tales.

There is a constant human desire to believe that everyone else is stupid. It's not a new phenomenon nor one that'll go away any time soon. And a large part of this debate also comes from people not being able to read the entire article due to it being pay walled.

People are focused in on college students saying shit like their favorite book is Precy Jackson and it's just become a debate on if it's anti-intellectual to enjoy kids media. There are significant differences about how children's media is written compared to adult literature, but when it comes to analyzing a story it's no less intellectual to study fairy tales than it is to study the modern young adult craze.

The article or at least the headline and few paragraphs everyone could read for free is very effectively written to seed controversy. To the side who is concerned about the state of american education it confirms this deep seeded fear we have about people getting dumber and to those on the other side it seems like a personal attack for not willingly jumping through academic hoops of what's considered intellectual. It's great at scratching personal anxieties around american academia and there is a lot that can be said about it.

It's concerning if high schools aren't assigning full novels for study and it's also worth discussing if the academic pace of studying multiple massive tomes a semester is an effective teaching strategy to begin with.

Students struggling with academia is rarely a fault of the individual. Usually the system and a lack of accommodations. And students going off the college and struggling to keep up is not new either. Just by it's very nature keeping up with course readings while also dealing with roommate disputes, and dishes, and working part time, and whatever else is a struggle for a huge amount of university students.

Legitimately if we want to discuss this we need to stop with the "lol young people are stupid" crap. We actually have to look at what factors are in play. An anecdote about how students cite Percy Jackson as a favorite more than Ulysses is not a basis for anything. Not a basis for concern nor a basis for the state of american academia. It's just an anecdote that is not opening the discussion to the people who are answering the question.

[onbearfeet]

As requested, here are a few Monster Mash asks based on the "oc asks: not-so-nice edition" list. You decide which characters they're for.

What is a surprising thing your character hides?

What does your character do when they should be sleeping but can't?

What's the worst wound your character has experienced? It can be physical or emotional.

Mwahahahahahaaaaaaa. I think I'll do multiple characters. WARNING: There's mature content in this one, and it's not just canon-typical violence. See the tags if you're worried.

What is a surprising thing your character hides?

Ted has a really beautiful singing voice, even in Man-Thing form. He no longer has the physical equipment to form words in any human language, though, so he's sensitive about it and doesn't let on that he still enjoys singing. But he's sung more than a few lullabies to Jack when he's been asleep or in a coma or whatever. And Alpine gets funny little children's melodies or goofy love songs when it's just the two of them. She accepts this as no less than the worship she deserves, of course.

Elsa is shockingly generous and tells no one but her accountant about it. She inherited an absolutely stupid amount of money from her father's estate, and she IMMEDIATELY stopped using his fortune to fund his "crusade", so she's essentially sitting on a dragon's hoard. She took almost nothing with her when she ran away, so she's lived poor for most of her adult life and is deeply sympathetic to other people in that situation, not that she'll admit it. She had her finance pro shut down the murder-cult fund and set up a clean new fund to support whatever charity she damn well pleases. She's still trying to think of ideas and will probably ask the boys eventually, but just for a start, every public library in the state got a healthy donation, and every shelter she stayed in that treated its inhabitants halfway decently got a bigger one. She's also looking into funding--founding, if she has to--an organization defending the rights and interests of homeschooled children, especially those in high-control environments. Elsa was homeschooled for much of her education according to Ulysses' rather eccentric tastes, and she had to teach herself an awful lot of actual education out of the library. And that's before all the trouble she had as a non-emancipated minor who didn't have her own copies of her identity documents.

God, what DOESN'T Jack hide? He's been alive long enough that there's a huge gray zone of stuff he might have failed to mention because he doesn't want people to know OR because it just never came up. He obviously hasn't discussed his family of origin in detail, at least not with Elsa or Bucky, but I don't consider that surprising. I'm tempted to say his hidden side is something sweet and wholesome, but that's not surprising either. If I said he was hiding something terrible he or the wolf had done, that probably wouldn't surprise most people at all. If I had to guess ... the only SURPRISING thing I can think of is his spirituality, which is complex and deeply personal to him. His family might have been Orthodox, but he's got a lot of Catholic guilt written all over him, and the curse only complicates that more. I don't think he's talked to anyone about what he does or doesn't believe in a hundred years or more. He certainly hasn't talked to me.

Bucky was a sex worker in a time-displaced brothel. Okay, that's both a joke AND an oversimplification, but the first thing I thought of when I saw this question was that Bucky had the same problem as Jack: old, complicated, obviously full of both good traits and horrible trauma so nothing is SURPRISING. Then I remembered that around 2016, I handwrote a story establishing that Bucky had worked for a while as an artist at Lady Sally's. If you've never read Spider Robinson's Callahan books, they're a series of short SF stories and novels centered on a bar run by (spoiler alert) a time traveler who's trying to save the world retroactively by preventing the Cold War from going hot. They are brilliant and hilarious and they formed me as a person. There is also a spin-off series focusing on Callahan's wife, Lady Sally McGee, who does the same thing but with a brothel. The reasoning is complex, but the stories are delightful and some of the first positive, sympathetic, relatively clear-eyed depictions of sex workers (or artists, as they're called here and who am I to disagree?) I ever encountered. So it is my headcanon that young Bucky Barnes started washing dishes at Lady Sally's as a teenager, and she kept an eye on the kid because he had a lot of history ahead of him. He worked as an artist for at least a year before the war, not least because it was the only job in the late 30s that paid well enough to let him afford Steve's medicines. (Sally was keeping an eye on Buck's "roommate", too.) Bucky never told Steve, but he was actually quite a talented and popular artist, and he liked working there. He gave notice when he and Steve finally admitted their feelings for each other, wanting to be monogamous with the man he loved, but Sally insisted he come to her if he or Steve ever needed anything in the future, and she slipped him money from time to time via his former coworkers--who, as far as Steve knew, were just girls Bucky dated to keep up appearances. The connection came in handy, too, when the Winter Soldier was sent to kill a man at Lady Sally's and the staff were able to send him away again thanks to his half-remembered connection to the place. Lady Sally's is closed in our time, but you never know when Bucky might get a phone call from the Lady.

What does your character do when they should be sleeping but can't? I'll leave Ted out of this one on the grounds that his biology is different enough that "should be sleeping" may not apply.

So, on a sleepless night at Bloodstone Manor? Jack bakes. He's got access to a well-stocked kitchen now, anything he makes WILL get eaten, and baking is less likely to wake anyone else than playing his guitar or running endless zoomie laps. He also feels a little better when he can do something kind (and profoundly human) out of his emotional turmoil. Helping people helps Jack, and if there are no monsters to rescue or curses to break, he can at least make sure his people have something delicious for breakfast. (Or a midnight snack. Let's face it, somebody else will wake up from a nightmare in an hour.)

Elsa is currently the queen of maladaptive coping mechanisms. She's cut down on drinking since the boys moved in, much to everyone's relief, but she's still in rough shape emotionally. Although she sleeps better than the others thanks to her sleep-anywhere hunter training, she does occasionally have nights when her brain won't shut up, and her solution to that is to run herself into the ground. She'll hit the dojo for as many hours as it takes, usually. Bucky is trying to coax her into something less destructive in his unique sergeant-y way. The sentence "Your magic rock is not an excuse to bust your knuckles again, so wear some damn gloves!" has been uttered.

Bucky is actually the best adjusted on this front, mostly because his sleep disturbances are the worst. (Jack has more traumatic memories overall. Bucky’s are more concentrated, and he's had to heal brain damage on top of it.) Thanks to his time in Wakanda, he's learned some basic meditation techniques and some therapy exercises to help himself calm down a little. Alpine has some kind of extra sense for when Bucky is in distress, so on the rare occasion she's not already in bed with him when he wakes up screaming, she'll come running in immediately. He usually ends up either curled around her, doing breathing exercises, or settling down in bed with a book while she purrs on his chest until the tension finally melts out of him. Bucky isn't healed by any stretch of the imagination, but by God he's trying.

What's the worst wound your character has experienced? It can be physical or emotional.

Ted Sallis died of his injuries from a horrific accident, drowning in a swamp while his super-soldier serum burned him from the inside out after the so-called love of his life betrayed him. That's the worst for him. Only Jack knows about it, and even he doesn't know it all. Nothing else comes close.

Jack is pretty good at toughing out physical pain by now, so his worst wounds are definitely emotional. I think the worst one was finding out that his sister, Lissa, had died. It was a natural death, but he didn't find out until years later, and she was his last connection to who he was before the wolf. The wound has never fully healed.

Elsa's worst wound is what she told Bucky about in "Bucky Meets the Legion of Monsters": realizing that the monsters she'd been hunting, even without her father's input, had mostly been people. That's an identity-shattering experience that has fundamentally changed her.

Bucky’s worst physical wound was losing his arm. His worst emotional wound was either when he realized Steve wasn't coming to save him from Hydra a second time or when he realized Steve wasn't coming back from his time jaunt. Bucky is profoundly loyal and loving, and he is constantly disappointed by other people's failure to meet him where he is. Thus, he doesn't trust easily, but Steve has always had Bucky’s entire heart, and Steve's broken it twice now. It wasn't intentional the first time and we don't yet know what happened the second, but like Jack, Bucky is walking around with an unhealed wound in his soul. If Steve ever reappears in Bucky’s life, there will be Consequences. Even if Bucky will always forgive Steve and would take him back without hesitation, the rest of the squad will have serious concerns about a fella who'd abandon Bucky Barnes two whole times.

[liesmyth]

#I simply think the fandom reaction would be hysterical if he like. went gentle into that good night or whatever

TRUE but also. It seems to me that John Lockedtomb is the very picture of "I will not go gentle into this good night I am going to be a huge bitch about it"

(Also of "Rage against the dying of the light". but that's less funny)

ALSO ALSO I'm not sure if by "go gentle into this good night" you meant "die" or "go away to live a quiet life on whatever planet is an option" but I can't help but be reminded of the Rocky Horror production I saw years ago where I swear Riffraff gunned down Frank while he was still singing "I'm going home". (sth sth Ulysses the First with a steel chair)

OK YEAH, EJG isn't "going gentle" anywhere. I definitely meant it as, I don't think he's in for any kind of Righteous Retribution from any of the 'Good' characters, or anything as clear-cut as that.

I think there's a very very solid chance John will die by the end of the series, but I don't think it will be framed as just or positive or anything along those lines. This is the guy who became a wrathful god in the pursuit of vengeance! If there's any moral lesson we get in TLT, is that revenge gets you nowhere. Sorry @ all the people thinking John is gonna get his just desserts and the world will be better off for it: it's not that kind of story.

TO ME, John will probably die, but it'd be HIS choice, and framed as something that's at least somewhat positive for him; I think he badly wants to stop existing and just let go. Or maybe he'll get something extremely fucking weird, like he becomes the moon to Alecto's earth or whatever. I think he and Alecto are too deeply intrinsically intertwined to be separated, but they won't exist in their current forms by the end of the series.

However. There's that one interview Taz gave where she said that TLT is full of horrible queers and some of them walk away scott-free even after doing horrible things. And I so so want that badly to be about John. I don't even think it'd be HIS ideal happy ending, that man longs for death. But it'd be MY ideal happy ending just because the fandom reaction in certain circles would fuel me for years

[deadpresidents]

Serious Q: Which presidents do you think had the most problems with alcohol while in office? You wrote that Nixon was drunk sometimes at the end of his term before resigning, for example. But who do you think had the most consistent problem with the bottle over their presidency?

The only Presidents who are believed to have been alcoholics are Franklin Pierce and George W. Bush, but in both cases, their alcoholism didn't take place while they were in office. Bush famously stopped drinking when he was 40 years old. Pierce was a heavy drinker as a member of Congress, but seemed to have a handle of things while he was President. But things went off the rails for him after he left office and he basically drank himself to death.

Ulysses S. Grant's drinking was sometimes a problem, but it apparently only flared up when he was lonely and stationed far away from his wife. Being stationed in California and Oregon after the Mexican-American War was really difficult for him and his drinking resulted in him basically having to resign his commission and return to civilian life. He fell off the wagon a handful of times during the Civil War, but it didn't incapacitate him as it had on the West Coast, and he didn't seem to have any issues with alcohol while he was President.

Nixon's drinking was probably the most concerning, but not because it happened constantly. Nixon was a notorious lightweight when it came to drinking, and he would get drunk very easily. The major issue with Nixon is his temperament, combined with intoxication, especially when things were going really badly with Watergate. There were serious worries from people within the Nixon Administration about what Nixon might do or orders he might give while drunk, particularly in the last weeks of his Presidency.

I think the other person worth mentioning is Andrew Johnson. There is some debate about whether or not Andrew Johnson was an alcoholic or even a heavy drinker. He had an infamous incident at his inauguration as Vice President in 1865 when he was apparently not feeling well and decided to have a couple of stiff drinks to get through the inaugural ceremonies. But those drinks were a little too stiff, and he launched into a rambling and insulting speech to Congress after he took the Vice Presidential oath. Johnson is one of the more obscure Presidents, so there's not as much definitive information about his life and career as, say, Ulysses S. Grant. Johnson was also abrasive and widely disliked by his colleagues, so it's know how true the memories of many of his contemporary sources were. But there are many, many examples of Johnson -- both before and during his Presidency -- making speeches where he was abusive and threatening to the audience and when speaking about his many political opponents. I think it's probably likely that alcohol played a part in some of those wild speeches and his behavior in public, but I can't prove it.

Other than that, it seems most of our Presidents who drank -- even those who drank more heavily than others -- had pretty good tolerance for their alcohol and didn't allow it to affect their job performance during their Presidencies. Some of these guys were pretty hardy dudes -- I mean, John Adams started smoking when he was 8 years old and was said to drink hard cider for breakfast and lived until he was 90 years old (in the early 19th century!) -- so most of them could handle their shit.

[candy-fae]

A lot of those wikis will describe him as psychotic and violent and uncaring of who he hurts but like. He's a really nice guy. Evacuate a building of innocent factory workers before he explodes it nice.

He gets hit with fear toxin in Shadow of the Bat, and his nightmare is the world falling apart because of pollution and judicial corruption and stuff and he's devastated for the sake of everyone else. He's very self sacrificial

He was introduced to comics not long after Tim Drake was. Also with the intention of "we could make this kid Robin" You literally have a thought bubble of Batman thinking about it when Gordon asks

Anarky is a man for the people. He starts out by reading and responding to residential complaints in the paper. He threatens the mayor to cut down on emmissions pollution(by only having public transport) and housing all of the homeless within a day(?), or else he'll blow up the bridge

He will quite literally give someone the shirt off his back

Batman doesn't really like Other Vigilantes in Gotham that he can't directly monitor himself, but he gives Anarky his blessing(lol) in Through the Keyhole, I believe

Lonnie doesn't even start as Anarky. He starts as Moneyspider. Siphoning money from the rich, creating Swiss bank accounts, and "donating" the money over seas to poor farmers in... Cambodia? I don't remember. But he sent a buncha people 1,000-10,000(? it's been a while)

Hell, Anarky and Ollie's Green Arrow get along. They've worked together a few times. That exploding factory? GA helped with that

If I remember correctly, Lonnie killed Very Few people and for good reason. I.E. When Ulysses Armstrong usurps the name. Which... Is probably where shows and other media take inspiration from... But Ulysses just uses the name Anarky for meaningless chaos and destruction. He ends up trhing to kill all of Gotham's gangs during the gang war. It's a Whole Thing. And then, I believe Lonnie kills him(?) because Ulysses literally murdered 25ish people while using Anarky as a face. Again. It's a Whole Thing, lol

But uhhh

Yeah. Lonnie Machin is great, I love him and so do several others. If you scroll through his tag, you'll see us going ballistic and have some character analysis. He even has a couple solo runs as Anarky! Tumblr user azbats has a phenomenal reading guide for him! :3

(I just have personal vendetta(ba-dum, tss) against CW Arrow for their characterization)

I LOVE how you explained this, firstly. That was such an interesting read. Second, I’ve not actually seen green arrow!! Just clips! I was mainly going off what I remember from the Arkham games, and tbh I don’t even know if I finished the anarky mission haha. It nevertheless, I kinda wanna learn more!! He sounds super cool! I have like, a whole comic about stopping exploitation so color me intrigued!! He sounds like a super cool guy?? And yeah I didn’t get that at ALL from what I saw from the CW, but I’ve heard they’re notorious for taking a character and butchering them so I believe it.

I might remake my silly little candy-verse (eh? Eh?) anarky!

[the-eyes-of-andyserkis]

Bringin' Home the Rain - Chapter 3: "Demons"

Masterlist

Fandom: MCU - Age of Ultron, Black Panther Pairing: Ulysses Klaue x F!Reader Word count: 5.9K Chapters: 3/5 Rating: Explicit

Chapter Summary: You can't stop thinking about Klaue, and after an encounter where you find out he feels the same all you can think about is how you can get him to touch you again.

Warnings: Explicit Rating, Alcohol, Blood and Injury, Minor Injuries, Mild Hurt/Comfort, Age Difference, Masturbation, Smut, PWP, But a bit of Plot if you squint, Dirty Talk, Praise, Teasing, Oral (M! Receiving)

A/N: Well, there's a reason I separated the set up and turned this into five chapters! It was taking longer than expected, but then I remembered that it was more than twice as long as the first two and cut myself some slack. The smut is incoming, so thank you for your patience and your feedback so far, it's been lovely to read!

Title is from the song "Bringin' Home the Rain" by The Builders and the Butchers.

AO3 Link

You're dancin' with your demons baby You forgot your former lie It was hard swimming once And now you're daily diving in

You do end up asking Klaue for something.

Most of the space at the compound is in use, but while wandering around one night when you can’t sleep you find a set of doors leading to an unused tech wing: drafting rooms, large metal and wood shops, and most interestingly to you several smaller rooms each with TIG welding machines - something you haven’t been using very much in your current work - as well a welding table, a tungsten grinder, and built in fume extraction hood. Perfect.

TIG welding would give you a chance to practice your finer detail skills. It’s a technique that requires focus and steady hands, but at the same time you can be creative and “draw” with it, anything from an octopus to random patterns that might resemble a Rorschach test image. This was the other side of the coin of metallurgy, the one that allowed you to focus on the creation and the connection rather than worrying about pure functionality and the end result. 

When you tell your shift lead Tom, a short but very broad Irishman, that you want to get in touch with Klaue he looks surprised and then mildly concerned.

“Everything’s fine!” you assure him. “He just said to let him know if there was anything that I needed and, well, there’s something that I need.”

“Ok, sure, I’ll let him know,” he says, relieved but still uncertain, his expression indicating that he might think that you’re crazy for actively looking to draw Klaue’s attention, and you certainly can’t blame him for that.

Unfortunately, you haven’t been able to think of very much other than Klaue in the two weeks since your last encounter. You thought that maybe after a few days of giving in to the persistent thoughts of him that the feelings would temper, but as it turns out they only intensified. Most nights now, and sometimes mornings (and showers), your mind is drawn to him and your hand finds its way between your legs, though you keep his name clenched firmly behind your teeth.

The skull tattoo visible beneath an unbuttoned collar, muscle and tendon flexing beneath the ink as strong arms pick you up and press you against the wall.

You try to reason with yourself: You know that he’s not the kind of man you should be thinking this way about to begin with, not to mention that he barely touched you, and you have no idea if he even thinks about you at all, so why are you torturing yourself?

It’s not like you’ve never been interested in sex before, you’ve had plenty of good, even great sex. However you’d admit that your experiences tended to be mediocre more often than not, and generally speaking it wasn’t something that was typically front of mind for you. If you weren’t in a relationship sometimes weeks could go by and you’d find yourself barely thinking about it, and when it did happen it felt like it was more about scratching an itch than satisfying any particular need.

You’ve never ached for it before. Not like this.

Fingers curled in your hair, tongue moving relentlessly against yours and you’re unable to hold back the sounds he's drawing from you.

Two days after your request you’re surprised when you sleepily check your morning messages and see one from Klaue. 

You quickly sit up in bed and start typing a reply explaining what you found and what you want to do, and he responds back that that was fine and you could use the tools, but you would have to buy any extra materials and maintain the equipment yourself. Not a problem, you assure him, typing the last message with one hand and wondering how he would react if you sent him a photo so could see what your other hand was doing right now.

Kneeling between your thighs, hovering there for agonizing seconds, waiting for you to beg him.

You clear out several garbage bags worth of debris and old materials from the room, wipe down all the surfaces, and test everything to make sure it actually turns on. Finally you drag a ragged but solid (and very heavy) two seater couch that you found in the metal shop down the hall to complete the space.

The following week all of your new supplies have arrived and you’re spending some time after your shift taking inventory. Your gear is laid out, tungsten welding rods along with nickel, magnesium, and copper filler rods are all sorted, and the base material - your stainless steel canvas - has been cleaned and polished and is ready for you to finally get started during your free day tomorrow. 

You’re trying to decide what kind of design you want to start with when the hairs on the back of your neck prickle with awareness and when you whip your head around you see Klaue leaning against the doorway and watching you with a look that makes your breath catch. 

“Oh, Klaue. Hi, uh, I didn’t know you were back." 

He pushes his shoulder off of the doorframe and saunters into the room. 

“Got back this morning, just here for a couple of days. I wanted to see what all this was about,” he says, gesturing to the table as he comes to stand beside you.

“Ok, sure,” you say, relieved to have something to talk about and to keep your focus off of him. “Well, like I said before I want to work on my detail skills with the TIG welder so that I don’t get too rusty. Plus it’ll give me something to do inside now that it’s getting colder, and I always find it benefits my work all around.”

Klaue looks at the gear and papers that are spread across the table. “And how are you planning to do that?” 

You’re surprised that he actually seems...interested? And it’s been so long since you talked to someone about the craft that you eagerly start explaining.

“Ok, so TIG welding,” you look at him but then immediately look away when you’re see how blue his eyes are, even under the harsh fluorescent lights. “It makes a finer weld seam, and I can use that to create these intricate designs.” 

“And the different alloys make different colors?” He indicates the rows of filler rods you have lined up on the table. 

“Yes, exactly. Also some are shiny and some have more of a matte finish. Before you got here I was just debating if I wanted to start with a specific design or go with something more abstract and just kinda wing it,” you shrug. “That would probably be better since it’s going to be a mess to start with anyway, at least until I get the rhythm of it again.”

Klaue moves behind you, reaching around your body for the stack of designs and rifling through them. He stays close to you though, close enough that in the cool air of the room you can feel the warmth of him and your body is reacting swiftly, heat building with a throb between your thighs and you have to concentrate to keep the tremor out of your breath. 

He picks out a swirling design that emulates the plumes of waves crashing together. Or maybe flames.

“Like this?” Klaue’s voice is rough and low and it goes straight to your center. You're so keyed up that the sound of it combined with his proximity causes something in your brain to short circuit, and it’s involuntary when the muscles of your cunt clench and then your back is arching with a reflexive roll of your hips. 

It’s then that you find out how close he actually is when your ass makes contact with the front of his pants. You mindlessly revel in the sensation for a split second before realizing what you’ve done, and then you gasp and pull away in shock.

“Oh god, I’m sorry- '' you start to fumble out an apology but suddenly Klaue’s hands are on your hips, pulling you back against him, and you can feel it when he groans. Pushing you forward he traps you between the table and his body and when you feel the stiffening length of him pressing into your ass it’s your turn to moan as you lean back into him, unable to stop your hips from rolling again in response.

Your back is flush with Klaue’s broad chest and he presses his face into your neck, nosing into your hair. Hot puffs of breath torture your skin while his hands keep a bruising grip on you, fingers digging into the flesh of your hips.

“You’re going to drive me fucking insane.” he growls.

“I am??” you gasp. “You’re the one- !” You try to turn around to face him but he pushes you roughly back against the table with a rattle of metal and holds you in place, your own hands flying up to brace yourself against the weight of him.

“Yes”, he hisses against your ear. “Since the night you walked right up to me in that bar. You know I saw you as soon as I walked in? All alone,” he tsked. “Saw you staring at that other table, as if any of those men - those boys,” he spits out the word with disdain, “could give you what you need.” 

His hands leave your hips to brush up your sides, gathering up the hem of your shirt so that his fingers can find your skin beneath it. The metal of his rings is cool but his fingers seem to scald you and you’re sure they must be leaving behind blackened streaks of ash in their wake; he’s barely touched you and you’re burning.

“Oh?” you say, your voice coy even as you’re becoming breathless, panting at his words. “And you think you know what I need?” And, god, it's impossible to imagine at this moment that there's anyone in the world who is less capable of backing down than you.

Klaue growls again and the vibration drives your senses to the edge of reason. He’s rutting slowly and shamelessly against you, the now very hard curve of his erection digging into the swell of your ass. He still has you pinned which is preventing you from finding some relief, some friction of your own, and all you can do is squeeze your thighs together to try to ease some of the desperate ache that’s building deep in your belly.

“Yes, I think I fucking do, darling- “

Before he can say anything else you hear voices coming from down the hallway. Klaue suddenly pulls away from you and you find that you’re almost frantic at the loss while still trying to process that “darling”.

“Boss?” says David, standing in the doorway and looking between the two of you. He must be able to see how flustered you are, flushed and wide eyed, but mercifully he makes no outward indication that he notices. “The Minister is almost ready. Line three in your office.”

You finally dare to look at Klaue, dark eyed and disheveled and hanging onto his control by a thread. You desperately want him to stay, want to grab onto him for dear life and beg him to fuck you until you can’t breathe.

But he doesn’t and you don’t and he finally turns away without saying anything else and follows David out of the room.

You keep taking deep breaths until you start to calm down, the vibration in your body eventually dispersing to a faint prickle in your extremities. As you breathe you circle back around to something he had said, and at first you're furious because how dare he when he was the one driving you insane. But those feelings are quickly forgotten when your mind finally catches up to what the fuck just happened, followed swiftly by the realization that yes, Klaue has in fact been thinking about you.

If you hadn’t been interrupted how far would it have gone? Would he have bent you over, pushed your pants down around your thighs and bruised your hips against the table as he fucked your from behind? He had been so close, thin layers of fabric the only barrier separating you from a shift of his hips and the relief of his cock sinking into you.

That night is the first time his name slips off your tongue on a shaky moan when you come. It’s also the first time that it leaves you wanting, your own touch not enough now that you know the feeling of his hands on your skin, now that you know the way his cock feels grinding against you, thick and so fucking hard

You’ve tipped over the edge, you had a while ago in fact, and like waking from a half dream with a start you finally accept how long you’ve been falling. All you can think of is Ulysses Klaue and you’re no longer interested in pretending that you don’t, you just know that you really need to find a way to get him to touch you again.

You don’t see Klaue at all the next morning and after lunch you’re back in your workroom and finally ready to get started on the first design, hoping that it will double as a distraction. All of your gear is prepped and you’re checking the pressure on the argon tank when you see a familiar shape in your peripheral. Your heart rate spikes and you immediately straighten up in anticipation before realizing with a sting of disappointment that he’s not alone, there are two other men waiting outside in the hall.

Preoccupied by something on his phone Klaue doesn’t look at you when he speaks.

“I need you to make a run to Bucharest."

You pause in confusion because that was not what you were expecting him to say at all, and it takes you a moment to parse his words.

“It’s a small exchange. My usual people are already occupied with other jobs and this is time sensitive."

You finally clue in to what he’s talking about: this is one of those non-skill related things you were told might be expected of you when you started, and evidently your number has finally come up.

Now, you’ve always convinced yourself that you don’t actually have a death wish, that you just enjoy a good adrenaline rush is all, however you start to seriously question this after what you say next.

“Uh, no.” you reply simply. 

Maybe it's the frustration spilling over from yesterday, or the fact that he’s seemingly so unbothered as if he hadn’t had his cock pressed against you in this exact space less than twenty-four hours ago. Either way you’re so irritated by this interruption that your sense of self-preservation has evidently decided to zip off to another reality. 

"This is my time,” you continue. “I earned it, and I’m not particularly interested in being a ‘gopher’ right now.” 

Well, he’s definitely looking at you now, but other than his eyes searing into yours you receive no other reaction from him, and apparently deciding to ignore your refusal Klaue continues on.

“It should be a four hour round trip, and if you leave now you’ll be back before sundown.” The tone of his voice might sound even but his posture is tense and coiled, and even though you know that you should really take the chance he’s offering you, you just can’t make yourself do it.

“Listen, I work my ass off, I pull my weight around here and then some. I finally have everything ready to go here and I just want to relax for five fucking minutes.” 

A muscle in Klaue’s jaw twitches and he levels his gaze at you, dark salt and pepper curls falling across his forehead. His next words are quiet but no one could miss the simmering threat in them.

“You knew what you signed up for with this job,” his voice is so low that you nearly have to strain to hear him. “Everyone’s all the way in on this and sometimes that means doing what needs to be done when it needs to be done. No questions asked.” 

“But-”

He holds up a hand to silence you, his eyes dark and hinting at the danger that awaits if you continue pushing.

You’re only a few inches different in height but as Klaue squares his shoulders and steps toward you his anger fills all corners of the room, making it feel as though he’s towering over you. As he crosses the boundary into your personal space you force yourself to hold your ground and your nose fills with the scent of sweat and oil and something earthy, like juniper. 

“So even if you weren’t the best person available right now,” Klaue tilts his head down until he’s just inches away from your face. “When I tell you to do something, you fucking do it.”

Your eyelids flutter and you barely manage to suppress a moan as your sex throbs at his words. Staring up at him you’re overwhelmed by the thought that if you rose up on your toes you could easily close the gap between your mouths, however a single sane thought manages to cut through the haze of lust to remind you that he’s waiting for a response. While it doesn’t make you any less pissed off you know that he’s right.

“Fine,” you say curtly. “Whatever you need.”

He hesitates briefly, eyes flicking quickly down to your mouth.

“Good,” he finally says, stepping away. “You’ll need to leave immediately, I’ll send you the location and instructions.”

“Great.” you reply, a false sweetness in your voice.

Almost out the door he stops and turns back to look at you one more time.

“You should be careful, darling.” Klaue says, a dangerous smile playing across his face. “That mouth is going to get you into trouble.” And then once again he’s gone.

“Goddamnit”, you mutter and let out a shaky breath, then gather your things and run back to your quarters to change.

* * * * * * * * * *

You actually enjoy the drive, as much as you hate to admit it. It’s late September and the leaves are already well painted with their fall colours at the higher elevations, but it’s still comfortable enough that you’re able to keep the window down most of the way there, although even the roar of the wind isn’t doing much to muffle your thoughts.

Your entire body feels like a live wire, like he’s still touching you, and god it felt so good when he was touching you. It felt so good to come undone under his hands as he coaxed out something familiar, drawing to the surface the part of you that craves the rush, finding it there in the rock of your hips and then giving you permission to stop trying to tamp it down.

You shake your head to clear it as you arrive at the pickup location, grateful for the distraction. There is some brief tension when they don't immediately recognize you as one of the usual operatives, but once the ringleader confirms who you are things kick into gear, and you’re surprised by how smoothly everything goes. You hand them the sealed manila envelope that you were given, after which several unmarked containers are loaded in the back of the truck.

Once the exchange is complete you text Klaue confirmation as he’d instructed - moments later the other men all look at their phones, and evidently seeing what they want they lose interest and wave you along.

As you’re about to drive away your phone pings with another message and you stop to read it:

“Good girl.”

You make a sound that’s a cross between a laugh and a moan and then rest your head between your hands on the steering wheel. Something you’ve learned about Klaue is that there is nothing unintentional about what he says or does, so you know he did that on purpose. Because he guessed what it might do to you. 

“Yes, I think I fucking do, darling.“

And once again he's right because the thought of his voice speaking those words in a rough whisper against your ear has you burning, no longer shocked by how quickly you’re nearly writhing with arousal.

You don’t have time to wallow, though, the sun is setting and you’d rather not be driving through the mountains in the dark, so taking a breath you throw the truck into gear and turn back onto the road, once again driving with the windows down. The air is getting colder now with the sun close to setting yet it does even less now to distract you than before as his words repeat over and over again in your head.

You really just want to go straight back to your quarters but you still need to clean up the mess you left behind after leaving in a rush. 

Back in your workroom you hastily go to drop your bag and jacket on the couch but instead you get scared out of your wits, gasping comically as you grab your chest when you register the unexpected shape that’s already sitting there.

And of course it’s Klaue, chuckling infuriatingly at your startled reaction.

“What the hell!" you exclaim when you finally catch your breath. "What are you doing here??"

He doesn’t say anything, and after a few moments you gesture a wordless “Well?” 

It’s then you notice that his eyes are focused on your body rather than anything you might be saying. With a flush it occurs to you that other than accidentally getting partially undressed when you were hurt, Klaue hasn’t seen you wearing anything other than your work clothes since you got here, only ever the heavy and shapeless garments meant to protect you when you’re welding. Seeing you now in just the black leggings and fitted Henley you’d changed into before leaving for Bucharest seems to have caught him off guard.

After brazenly dragging his gaze over you for what feels like an eon Klaue finally leans forward and rests his forearms on his knees, eyes focusing directly on you now. 

“You seem to be forgetting that I own this building. And you're only here", with raised eyebrows Klaue looks around the room to make his point, "because I allowed it."

You squeeze your eyes shut and take a breath, all of the earlier frustration is rushing back in and you don’t have the patience to argue with his non-answer.

“You know what?” you say with a resigned sigh. “You're right. That's fine. Just don’t move my stuff around when you're in here. Please.” He leans back against the couch with a smirk and seems to turn his attention back to whatever he was working on when you walked in.

With a sigh you start to clear off of the table and put away your tools, all the while silently seething at him and painfully aware of his existence in your space. So maybe when you stretch your arms over your head to ease the stiffness from the long drive you arch your lower back a little. And maybe you bend over a bit further than strictly necessary to put something away on a low shelf, tilting your hips so that your ass is on display. With satisfaction you hear a sharp intake of breath behind you but when you look back Klaue still seems to be focused on his phone.

His posture seems relaxed with one arm stretched out along the back of the faded cushions and knees casually spread wide. As you watch, though, he shifts his hips and smooths a hand down his thigh, and when your eyes wander to his lap you lick your lips when clearly see the outline of his erection through the fabric. 

At first you wonder what he’s waiting for but then you find that you don’t really care, and a calm settles over you as you realize that you’re done waiting. 

Oh, I drive you crazy? Fucking watch me.

You gather your things and then make as if you’re going to leave, but instead of walking out you close the door and let your bag drop to the floor with a thud. 

The sound brings his attention back to you and confused but intrigued his eyes slide over your body as you stride over to stand in front of him.

“Undo your pants,” you say, looking down at him.

Klaue’s eyes fly up to meet yours, his lips parting slightly. 

“Pardon?” he rumbles, after a beat. His voice is steady but you don't miss another shift of his hips.

You tip your chin toward his belt and say again, “Undo your pants”.

A smile slowly crooks the corner of his mouth but it doesn't do a thing to mask the storm behind his eyes.

“If I have to ask again I’m just going to leave”, you said straightforwardly and begin to turn away.

That seems to break the spell and blindly tossing his phone aside Klaue’s hands move quickly to the buckle of his belt as you step the rest of the way forward to drop to your knees in front of him and he grins when he registers what you’re doing. 

“You been thinkin’ about this for a while, darling?” he asks with a Cheshire glint in his eyes as he draws down the zipper.

You run your hands up his thighs and when you slide a hand over where he’s straining against his underwear you can feel that he’s already almost fully hard, twitching under your fingers. 

“Seems like you have been,” you reply with a squeeze to illustrate your point, his groan cutting off any retort while you teasingly stroke along his length.

You don’t last long doing this though, you need more of him, so you reach your hands up to tug at his waistband. Taking the hint Klaue braces his booted feet on the floor to lift his hips, steadily working both layers down until they’re finally low enough to free his erection which drops heavy between his thighs. He’s deliciously thick, curving smoothly up to where the head is already dark and leaking precum, and you’re unable to suppress a low whine when he wraps a hand around himself to languidly stroke his length.

“Is this what you want, hm?” Klaue’s voice is a rough and he smirks at your hungry expression as you watch his fist sliding over his cock. 

“Not quite,” you reply and lick your lips as your own hand joins his to wrap around the thickness of him, finally feeling him. He draws a hissed breath through his teeth and removes his hand so you can work him properly. 

You use your thumb to spread the bead of precum around the head, drawing your hand down to the brush of hair at the base of him and then back up, your eyes following the trail up his belly to where you can see it meet the edge of tattoo that looks like the tail of a crocodile. You wish briefly that you could get his shirt off of him but your focus is drawn back to his cock and how fucking good it feels in your hand, hot and silky under your fingers.

“Do you think about this when you touch yourself?” Klaue hums and you look up so that you can watch his face as your hand strokes him, the focused expression in his eyes belying the heat behind them. 

“I think about a lot of things,” you say, confirming his implication with a teasing smile. “Like you bending me over that table and fucking me, hard, leaving the door open so anyone could see how much I want it.” You tighten your grip on him as you speak, deeply satisfied when his eyes go dark and hooded and he moans, and you definitely need him to do more of that, so you finally do what you’ve been wanting since you caught that shift of his hips and lean down to close your lips around him. 

It’s your turn to moan as the head of his cock pushes into your mouth and it’s answered by an intoxicating rumble as your lips and tongue slide down and around his now achingly hard length, starting off slow, savoring the tang of him as you explore every ridge and curve. You run the flat of your tongue from the base to the tip of his thick shaft, then swirl it around the head and along the sensitive underside before releasing him with a wet pop and starting over again.

You can feel how wet you’re getting just from this and when you look up the sight of his dark and greedy expression has you nearly coming undone. An aching throb rolls through your slick sex and you don’t mean to whimper a needy sound around him but you do, and Klaue grins when he hears it.

“You might’ve been playing coy, but I knew how much you’d love having my cock in your mouth,” he rumbles.

Well, you can’t exactly argue with that so instead you suck - hard - hollowing out your cheeks and allowing the pressure to drag him further into your mouth. Klaue’s eyes squeeze shut and with a startled inhale he’s groaning long and deep and you’d swear before god that you can feel it against your tongue.

As you continue to suck him in and out of your mouth like this you feel his fingers slide into your hair and tighten into a fist. He’s not pushing down, right now just following the steady bobbing movement of your head, but you can feel the edge of want in his grip and your scalp stings under his touch, your entire body aching in response.

As good as it feels and as much as you would love to give in and let him take control, you instead pull your mouth off of him before he can push any harder.

"None of that”, you say, gratified when he rolls his hips upward in protest, mindlessly seeking for the lost heat and sensation. "You can fuck my mouth later", you purr as your hand continues a teasing rhythm along his length that’s now slick from your mouth. "But right now I'm going to suck your cock."

You barely recognize your own voice, desperate and demanding and full of aching need as you sit back between his Klaue’s thighs while he stares down at you, chest heaving and eyes hooded with a combination of frustration and lust.

“You want me to keep sucking your cock, don’t you?” Then, keeping your eyes on his you lower your mouth and flick your tongue through the slit at the tip of him to gather more of the precum that’s leaking there now.

Klaue growls at that and you can see the thoughts warring behind his eyes. You don’t know if this man who is so used to taking what he wants will allow you to take instead, but you don’t want to let him think too long on which he wants more so you squeeze his cock hard enough to elicit a startled hiss, returning his focus to you with a surge of heat.

“Yes,” he grits out, clenching his hands into fists at his sides.

If he was going to say anything else he doesn’t have the chance, the word is barely out when your lips are around him again and you throb at the sound of relief he makes when as your mouth returns to its ministrations. You’re surprising yourself with how much you really fucking want this, how much you love how hard he is under your tongue, and how delirious you feel as he nearly begs you, cursing and mumbling thickly, “Fuck, just like that.”

You take him further into your mouth, your lips stretching wide around him as the head of his cock hits the back of your throat, not taking him in all the way but enough to make your eyes start to water and to tease him with the tightening sensation.

“Fucking perfect mouth, Christ” he pants. “Looks so good with my cock in it.” Klaue’s words send another frisson of heat to your already soaked center and you can’t help rolling your hips in time with the movements of your mouth, and you know that he can see it. 

“Wish it was inside your tight cunt instead?” he says, teasing, and you moan around him because of course you fucking do and all of your focus is required to keep up your rhythm as think about where else he could stretch you open.

He’s starting to pant as he watches where he’s almost disappearing into your mouth while your hand continues a twisting stroke at the base of him.

“Fuck, gonna come soon, darling,” Klaue groans a warning, his voice straining against the fraying edges of his control.

You desperately want to make him come like this, want to feel him pulsing on your tongue and coating your mouth. However, the part of you that makes you want to jump off a cliff into the waiting ocean below, the chaotic part that you love and that’s felt so uncertain since you met Klaue is finally back in control and, well, it wants something else. It wants to fall.

Pulling back and shallowing your movements again you quicken your pace, and even though he’s still trying to temper his thrusts he can’t help flexing his hips so that his cock slides up through your spit-slicked fist. His tone shifts from pleasure to a more urgent need with every wet suck of your mouth until the only sound he’s making is a panting grunt that matches your rhythm as you feel him nearing his edge.

Then without warning you quickly pull your mouth and hands off of him and sit back, Klaue’s expression one of confused desperation, dark and unfocused.

“Finish yourself,” you demand.

Klaue’s eyes lock onto yours as a hand moves quickly to grip his cock and then you watch him jerk himself fast and rough and harder than you ever could have. He tenses suddenly, his expression momentarily frozen somewhere between agony and bliss and then his body bows forward and he’s coming with a strangled groan while you watch mesmerized as ropes of come spill thickly over his fist and on to his stomach. 

As Klaue strokes himself through the last spasms of his climax you stand up, wiping your mouth with the back of your arm and eyeing him appraisingly. Then, feeling absolutely high as a kite, you grab your things from where you had dropped them earlier and before he has a chance to recover you open the door and walk out the room.

Maybe if you’d looked back at him one more time you would have walked a little more quickly as you made your way back to your quarters. 

Because if you had looked back you would have seen a single thing burning in his eyes as they followed you out:

Run.

Thank you for reading! I hope the wait was worth it (and we're not done yet.)

Also, here's an example of the TIG welding art that's mentioned, it's actually really cool!

[tarrenterror25]

Thank you so much for doing this, Tarren, I can't wait to see everything you come up with! 🥰

Ok, I have been trying to think of something cool for a prompt, but I can't help but be basic so:

🕸 Soft!Werewolf!Klaue

Perhaps it's after he's changed for the first time and he doesn’t want to admit it, but he's nervous that you won't want to be with him anymore.

No specific rating request, dealer's choice! Love you!!!! 🧡👻🎃🐺🧡

🕸️ Caught! - Send in a character with a prompt/theme and I will write a drabble for you! (Less than 500 words)

Fear Lounge

First off, how dare you 😤 because this idea is indeed VERY cool!💕🥹 I love this so much!! I did make it a little angsty, but I hope you like it, love!

Soft!Werewolf!Klaue x Reader

Tags: bite wound

Klaue knew the full moon would bring about his change. The damn beast that bit him on his last job was a werewolf and Klaue would have ignored the wound if it weren’t for the symptoms. He could feel his teeth ache, his bones sore, his senses, particularly smell, becoming stronger. There was more hair on his chest and arms than usual and his silver jewelry irritated his skin to the point he has to stop wearing it.

Not wanting to transform in the house, Klaue ran out to the woods nearby, but he was unaware that you had followed him and had watched him the entire time.

Now he’s human again and on the rampage in the house, shouting angrily, convinced he’s a monster and you want nothing to do with him.

“Klaue!”

He’s not listening; he rambles and paces frantically.

“No! Leave, run! I know that’s what you want to do! God! Why did you follow me?!”

“Ulysses!”

He stops and turns to look at you. “There’s no way you could possibly want this, love,” he says, his tone sounding almost defeated.

Slowly, you step towards him, a hand outstretched until it makes contact with his bare chest. There you can see the wound, the source of his affliction, indentations scarred into his skin where teeth were.

You embrace him and he lets out a sigh of relief.

“I won’t leave you,” you say.

“Are you sure?” he asks as his arms come around you. “I’m a monster now, you know…”

You squeeze him tighter. “We’ll figure it out.”

Klaue’s head nuzzles against yours and trails down to bury in your neck, like a canine seeking comfort. “You might change your mind,” he whispers. You can tell the thought pains him to say out loud.

You cradle his head to you, fingers running through his hair. “Shut up, you don’t know that,” you reply.

He pulls his head away from you and looks into your eyes. “Look at me and honestly tell me you don’t feel any differently for me now,” he says.

You’ve never seen Klaue look so…vulnerable. He won’t say it out loud, but you know he’s scared. He could deal with his condition, but losing you? You can see in his eyes that he wouldn’t be able to cope if he lost you because of his carelessness and allowing himself to get bit and become this creature of the night.

“I don’t.”

Your tone is sincere.

You break the tension by putting a hand to his cheek, watching as he leans into your touch.

[the-pjo-archive]

No Home In Sight

pjo fic concept featuring a son of kronos I'm not a writer, I have no idea if this is any good

~~~~~~~~~~~

I walked along the highway grumbling, following some kid who introduced himself as Ulysses Well, I guess he's not just "some kid" considering he has goat legs, and is apparently 30 something; he looked my age though.

He said he was supposed to take me back to this "camp" and he's some sort of "protector" Honestly just thinking about that makes me crack up, I have never seen someone more nervous. Though, everyone gets put on edge around me, I think it's my eyes.. they're unnatural, a light brown that seems golden in some lights, I was always called a freak for it, mom said I got it from dad. Apparently I got everything from dad, this mythical man I've never met. This man who was there one night and gone the next. Everyone says my mom was never the same after she met him. Apparently she got paranoid, and a lot of other things as well... basically, she was not a mentally stable mother, barely present enough to raise me.

If I ever find this man I will get revenge for both my mom and myself.

Anyway back to the journey at hand, Ulysses had stopped near an underpass looking somehow more anxious than usual I sighed and walked up to him, "Why'd we stop? I thought we still have awhile to walk." Ulysses baa'd quietly, which I chose to ignore, "I smell monsters, somehow you've hidden your scent this long but still... I don't want to take any chances" I stared at him offended "My scent??? Dude I've known you for like a day, you can't just talk about how I smell! Besides, there's no showers next to the highway." "No, not like that, your demigod scent; I thought we went over this already." "I seriously still think you're leading me to a cult, maybe we should go to the police." Yet for some indescribable reason I still followed him when he said the coast was clear. And as the sun set over the horizon we made it, honestly I've never seen anyone as relieved as Ulysses in that moment, and he proudly presented his camp "A strawberry farm? You dragged me halfway across the state for a strawberry farm?!" Ulysses took my hand, which surprised me considering how scared he seemed around me, "just over this hill, you'll see"

I sighed and took another step then... oh my god. You would think I was dreaming. Before me an entire village like space just materialized, I saw columned buildings like in D.C and kids running around, and more goat-legged kids, and... was that a fucking pegasus??

[queeoretician]

For reference (from the "Sermon on Cavaliers and Necromancers"):

valancy says one flesh one end sounds like instructions for a sex toy. can't stop thinking about that so can someone stop cris and alfred before the sex toy phrase catches on, thanks

(I had to combine Titania, Ulysses and Other into a single option because Tumblr only supports up to 12 options in a poll...)